Of dreams and damages

I was a normal village girl when I first came to town. The tall buildings, big cars and the street-light hues caught my attention, like I was some five-year old. Unlike my place, there were way too many people here. And not only the number but the fashion of people baffled me; I wondered for a long while initially whether girls wore jeans and pants instead of suits forgetfully, or wear shorter skirts exposing long ‘baits’ for perverted eyes. The place was reeling like a movie every day, enhancing the image I had in mind when I was in the bus on my way here. And best of all, I felt like a fairy-tale girl, lost in a big city, who was sure that dreams do come true. How could I not believe that? Coming here was a dream that I had seen with my eyes closed so many times, it had me convinced that I was prepared for the challenges I might have to face.

I joined work at a call centre. I had passed my 12th class with 95%, and was the pride of my village when I left to be the biggest star from my hometown. Being the only girl in my village who knew English well, my parents were extremely proud of me. Not only was I most that certain my good communication skills in such a foreign language would be the most useful talent I could yield, but I was most fascinated to do a job that applied my said skills. I also got admission in a B.A. (P) course in a college under the University of Delhi. My heart swelled up when I got my first paycheck and earned my college fees myself. I called up everyone back home to share the news, even promised to send some money back if I managed my expenses well. I took up a place on rent with two other girls – Laila and Nisha. We all were in the same course, for which I was a bit glad that I might get help with my studies. We had our differences, but they were nice to me and fairly shared the household chores.

As classes started I got busy with work and college, and the only time I saw my flat mates was on weekends. Every Saturday I made it a point to revise my course material for the previous week and catch up with the assignments. I was a happy and content life. One weekend I was reading my notes when I heard Laila call out to me. She and Nisha were all dressed up in shiny, skimpy clothing. They were going to a club in the night and wanted me to join in. I had never seen a club, wasn’t even sure what it meant. I agreed but wasn’t sure what to wear, so Nisha gave me one of her dresses. It was a knee-length dress; I was very uncomfortable when both Laila and Nisha comforted me. They taught me how to drink vodka shots with a lemon to ‘ease off the hardness’ when you drink it. I didn’t understand what it meant until I tried. I enjoyed it still, because I trusted my friends and it made them happy. The club was nice, everyone was dressed up. There were a lot of couples making out, and I bet they had no clue how uncomfortable they made me feel. Somehow I felt at ease, as people were only interested in themselves. Everyone was drinking, smoking and dancing to the tunes of recent Bollywood tracks. I am not a very good dancer but I had a lot fun. I never saw how time flew by but the party ended late in the night.

This became the new routine for every weekend. We started to keep in touch with the people we used to meet in clubs – no fun without them. And before I could blink, my friend-circle broadened. My life was going so fast that it was difficult to keep a track of time. Happy in the change, I had started to drink all kinds of liquor, even smoking weed. I hardly realized that I had made 5 boyfriends and made out with a zillion random people. Life wasn’t bad at all. My friends supported me in whatever I did. Soon exams came and I was struggling through the books which I hadn’t seen in the entire year. I was not able to understand a bit also as I wasn’t familiar with the lectures. I skipped most of them as I had to meet friends, go for shopping or plan for parties. I failed two of my modules, but my friends consoled me saying it is fine – such great friends I have. I attended many lectures stoned or drunk – it was fun.

Now, I am in an asylum, they say I am crazy, all I need is some cocaine, but they say no to that – can’t they understand? Or was I lost? They don’t even let me meet my mother. I want to tell her that I am sorry for not being around when baba died. I will surely tell her that I don’t like this place when I meet her. I want to go back to the village… with all the green trees, and the smell of muddy soil, and freshly cut crops… and help her with the cooking. They don’t love me here anymore. They don’t even give me good food; just medicines. I am scared they might kill me one day. I am not mad; maybe am becoming now, now that they give me shocks. When I try to run and dance they tie me to the bed and sometimes put me to sleep. I struggle really hard but they don’t let me go. The nurse yesterday told me she would let me go but she wanted something in return. She touched me everywhere. At first I didn’t get it but then she started pushing her body on me. Her rough hands were hurting me but I couldn’t stop her. I was sure today that she would bring ma along with her. But she came today also, alone. She hurt me; put something in me from behind. I bled but it felt worth it, because maybe… I get to see my mother tomorrow.

life-file folder-ed

All these years of my life, I have assumed that one day I will get my perfect fit – the one who will come and sweep me off my feet. I was always living fine expecting “an arranged setting” of marriage, believed like many other Indian girls that marriage changes everything. Parents will choose the perfect guy and he will sweep me off from my feet over a few cups of coffee. Love will happen, followed by a perfect married life.

But in this chase of finding the right person, whom I am very sure everyone finds someday, we keep meeting a lot of wrong people. Your first day in office, you are nervous and then the scariest part comes – your introduction to the team, the people you will be working with every day. You are overwhelmed but you chose your words wisely; ‘Hope they like me… what if they think I am stupid… Shit I didn’t brush up Excel, Power-point… they might ask me something… what if I don’t know?’ A mind full of questions and there, you hear a faint ‘Hey’, you hush it away with the other thoughts in you head. “I said hello.” ‘Oh my god, someone actually said that! Embarrassing… Why am I so lost all the time? Bad day! Why God… why me?’ I turned behind and replied softly still staring at the floor, not even sure if my voice reached his ears. I raised my eyes to see if he was angry. He was a mediocre looking boy of around my age, not very tall, would be around few inches taller than me. He wore a nice blue shirt but it was shabbily tucked in, sleeves folded, a normal physique but a warm friendly smile on his face, which was a relief. He told me his name was L. L started a friendly conversation, and with that a sense of calmness dawned over me. Did he do it intentionally; did he know that I was nervous? Whatever, I am just glad he is in my team.’ Friends told me I should be careful. These people appear to be pleasant, but they end up being rude when it comes to work. Still, I shooed away such voices in my head and started to stare at my computer screen. Poof! I received a request from him on my chat window to join him for lunch in the canteen, along with his other friends at 12. It was my first day. The thought of meeting new people was scary, but I calmed down told myself that they were his friends. As the clock stuck noon, I went down, all excited now. I met a few more people, some from my team, and others from different departments. They seemed welcoming; we laughed while we finished our lunch and then went out for an ice-cream. Soon I was able to join them in the jokes they cracked. My life painted itself perfect on the very first day – an amazing job, a good set of friends, a friendly team; people would die to be in my place.

Getting up early was a problem for the first few days, but soon I got used to it. Everyone treated me nicely, once or twice I got scolded by my mentor but that was fine. I enjoyed my job. Soon it will be the end of the month. I had a long list of things I wanted to buy with m first salary. Life was dreamy. My talks with L increased every day. When the office-time of 9 to 5 wasn’t enough, we kicked-off with the exchange of messages on the way back. This was not all. We started to meet often to grab a quick bite before a movie on weekends. Soon we became a pair of good friends, or had already become one long back. I had other friends in office, but he was becoming the one person that I could trust with everything. He was the one to comfort me when I was low, and was there for me when I wanted to dance on happy news.

Before long, I was asked to go to US for a project. I did not know how long it would take; it could take a year, or maybe longer. On the day before I was leaving, L disclosed that he liked me. I was confused, and I never felt that way for him ever, not even close. But the fear of losing a good friend scared me more than anything. I didn’t want to hurt him. I tried to explain and tried to go back being what we were. I went to the States and the conversations continued. But the new life wasn't as much fun. I was away from everything I loved, work was not going well, and I started having frequent fights with my close friends, even L. No one seemed to understand. 'If I don’t like him why do I expect so much from him? Why should he be here with me? Bloody hell, I don’t care whatever he has to be. Argh! I am so confused about my feelings. Maybe I don’t care. I am just in this ‘phase’… but he does like me. Maybe this time he is busy. Next time he will be there.'

Moreover, there were a lot of chances. But fights grew, and so did the distances. Everyone seemed to be wrong. 'Or maybe I became rude and arrogant'. It was my fault, but no one was there to sit with me to tell me that the phase will pass soon. I went back home after a year and soon he did something that broke me. I could not trust him any more. He had become aloof. Maybe I was too late to like him back, and maybe he found someone else in this time. Maybe they just say that “love happens for good” and never mean it. Maybe it is just all pain and no happiness. Now, what do I take from this? Did he never like me? Did he lie to me? All blank questions ricocheted with empty answers.

I just fail to understand, how can anyone so different from the guy of your dreams, whom you think is not the right guy for sure, get so close to hurt you. And the pain is worse than that, given by the closest friend. Now I changed my work place, not scared of meeting a shrewd boss or a horrible team, but terrified to meet that smiling face.

bed-bite story

Like a normal Delhi girl I grew up watching Karan Johar movies and believed that one day my prince charming will come my way, and I will have a perfect job. The end simply had to be perfect of my not-so-perfect life. Till now, thankfully, I have had amazing friends. They have supported me in all my decisions.

Like a normal 22 year old, I have had a failed relationship, a zillion crushes, even stayed up all night for a message from some little infatuation which just lasted for days. I have had five or six best friends till now, from which some have hurt me while some are still in touch, and have stood by me in my ups and downs. Most of my friends think that I don’t live in the real world which is bad. People are selfish and not everybody is good. As soon as I finished my Masters, I looked forward to fin my perfect job, and then soon I would meet my guy at some coffee shop, we fall in love and get married. I would meet my friends like I do now even after marriage, and life would be perfect. But this dream of a perfect story came soon crashed, the market was bad and there were no jobs available. Still you get an interview offer, you dress up nicely. The interview went amazing. You talked about your dreams and made the interviewer laugh at times. There was no way they could reject me. I waited for the call very confidently and then after two weeks they regretfully informed me, that they selected someone else. I kept my calm but soon gave up.

At family functions, all Uncles are asking about where you career is going while I was trying to flow with the flow. Aunties are bothered about my marriage
and soon I hear ‘Rishtaas’ pouring in.

The idiot isn’t messaging back, and I waited for a long while; but he is just not interested. “Maybe he just said he liked me coz he didn’t have anyone at that moment, and now maybe, he likes someone else. Why am I bothered? I told him that I don’t like him, but he is still supposed to give me importance. Maybe he found someone else. Arrgghhh, I am so stupid. Maybe it’s all my fault. Yes it’s me. How am I supposed to
understand that he loves me when he doesn’t even have time to message?”

Things are different with your friends now. I tried to make them understand that I have some problems. Instead of supporting me and ‘being there’, they are telling me that I have lived my life all wrong. “You will lose everyone like this, you have to show more attitude,” she said. I didn’t think so, but even a slight disagreement leads to a big ego clash and I am left crying while she states all my past mistakes one by one on your face.

You have a contact-list of 550 people in this world, and you are lonely. Not one person could I call. My two-three best buddies just left me with my own problems, as they think that ‘some kind of ego’ has come into me. I question everything in my life and all of a sudden there is no one to put the blame on.

Unscrambled eggs

It was two in the afternoon. I could hear the noises outside. People were crying; they were upset. I wasn’t upset… just scared. I knew things would change and hoped for good. That night I locked myself up so that no one can see me. As it is, I am not very good around people, I haven’t had a decent conversation with someone in three years. The following morning was the ceremony at the church. I wore an ill-fitted black dress that belonged to my mother. When I reached the church they asked me to say a few words about her, I stood up and felt a lump in my throat. I didn’t know her. I never liked her. She never was there for me; she saw what dad did to me, yet never interfered. “I will miss her.” I lied. I just knew what they wanted to hear. There was a big lunch at home; I hadn’t eaten properly in years. I picked up a big slice of cake and started eating in one corner. People gave me and my dad sympathising looks. I looked at my dad and knew he was upset, whatever he did with me for all these years… but he loved her. The day he found she had cancer and she wouldn’t live, he held me and cried all night. It was right after that it all started. Three years back, still as clear as yesterday. My mom came into my room and explained to me that from now on my dad will love me a little more. I had not understood then as I was just thirteen. She held me and cried and kept giving me pills so I don’t get pregnant. I don’t blame her entirely, he would beat both of us and she feared he would kill me if I don’t let him have sex with me.
I loved him and assumed that he loved me and did all that because he loved me more. I had always known that I was adopted, but even as a kid he used to take me to play and help me with my homework. While mom was always out with her work or friends, she never was home for my birthdays. I never took her side when dad and she used to fight, not even when I knew dad was wrong. I always thought dad should have left her,
till she got very ill. I felt bad for her. I used to help her during the day, and in the night dad used to come drunk and would beat her up. Then he used to come in my room and have sex with me. He used to hit me as blood excited him more. I felt so guilty that I stopped talking to anyone in school. My grades were affected and everyone assumed it was because my mother is ill. He was a respected man and no
one would ever think of him doing such things about him. After everyone had left, I went to take a shower and changed into something casual. I could hear him talk to someone on phone and my head was swirling, so I lied down on the bed that once felt safe, but was not anymore. I slept off. After an hour I got up with a start. I saw him coming in. I was scared. I pretended to sleep but that didn’t help, he knew I was up. He told me that from that day on I would be staying in his room. For a minute, I thought he was a changed person and would apologise, but I was not
prepared to take his wife’s position. I knew I couldn’t say no, or else he would beat me.
He used to tell me that I had no one except him, no one in this world loved me and sex is the only thing I am good at. I was scared and knew with mom not around he would have his way with me whenever he wanted.I was scared but I submitted to him. That night after I dinner I went to his room. He came following me and pushed me to the bed he removed his clothes and pulled my night-gown up. I tried to block my thoughts, otherwise I would feel sick and that would excite him more. He used to get excited if I was sick, or even when I had periods. I felt him go deep in me. He applied so much force that I thought I would die. After he was done, he lied there on me while I could feel his heavy breath on my face. He got up and kissed me on my cheeks, he always did that when I was good.I love it when he does that, it assures me that he still loves me.
I tried to sleep but couldn’t. I knew things would not be the same; I would never be the same. My dad has always liked collecting whiskies and wines. The oldest one he had was a 38 years-old bottle of whiskey. I opened the bottle and drank it. It burnt my throat. It started to itch but the pain I felt inside me was far more. I drank and drank and puked all over, I lighted up a cigarette for myself, but not with the intention to smoke. I put it on my arm. It pained so much that I thought I would die. Nothing could soothe my pain today. I went for a shower to clean myself. Nevertheless, I felt dirty. the soap wasn’t able to clean me. I ran back to the kitchen shelf, I was still wet. I picked up a knife and took it to my room. Pushing the drapes to the sides of the window and seeing the stars made me feel safe. I sat there teary eyed as I felt the sharp knife slice into my skin. I cut myself till I was drowsy and soon I peacefully slept off on my bed which was once the safest place in the whole world.

Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet

The alarm rang, she knew she had to get up and get ready for office else she would be late for her meeting. Working on a presentation for her boss kept her up till 2 after mid night, she felt weak and tired. The lack of sleep and the fear of presentation had made her twist and turn all night. She tried getting up but her back hurt. With tired weary hands she picked up her phone from the side of the bed there were three new messages. The first one was from her boss to remind her not to be late to work. The second one from some random phone company message,” they have nothing else to do than spam my phone.” The third message made her blush and smile, ”hey, good morning,I know you must be tired and sleeping peacefully by now, all I want to say is nothing in the world, I'd rather want than to be with you right now. I love you more than anything Nishtha.” With a smile on her face, forgetting all the tension she got up and started her morning errands. She got ready and thought she would have to leave without her breakfast but to her surprise her roommate hadalready made a sandwich for her. It was a hot day, but she didn’t care. She picked up her car keys and walked towards the parking lot. There was a skip in her walk and all she did was think about him and smile. Till then she had read the message thrice, the day started well as she thought to herself, ”I hope the presentation goes well too.” The traffic bothered her a little but soon she reached office and the clock kept ticking. All her work was appreciated, the presentation went well. The phone rang around lunch, she knew who it was. “hello, my boss loved my work, my presentation went well. I am so so happy. Ye ye ye and (short pause and with a giggle) I love you.” He smiled gently as if he understood exactly what she meant and hoped she was there next to him, wanted to hold her tight, kiss her on her forehead and tell her that he was proud of her, he just didn’t know how to explain it to her. It was a really busy day she thought to herself as she cursed the government for such bad infrastructure and poor traffic sense of people. The radio blaring out loud in her car with the radio jockey going on and on with his stupid jokes irritated her even more, as she scrolled through the channels she came across Rod Stewart’s ‘have I told you lately that I love you’. She couldn’t stop but think of him, she tried calling him but he was in a meeting and kept cutting. She trusted him more than ever and she knew he was the one. It all started when they met for the first time and their friend teased her that they are perfect for each other, the jokes grew and they never realized when they started liking each other so much. They were not in a relationship, not even in the same town but they felt connected. She always thought it was just one sided liking till one day he mailed her ,” I can’t help but think how beautiful you'd be looking right now, sleeping with your both fists clasped together and your head cutely over it . A serene expression on your face dreaming of everything in the world. Knees folded under the sheet; can’t help it but imagine the dim moonlight falling on your face making it look like something; something from a poet's dream. I just want to be with you.... I want to be the shoulder you put your head on to and I want to rub my cheek lightly against yours and say slowly ....dream all you can, I am there to shoulder them” she repeated the lines to herself.

She knew he loved her more than she did, but he was too scared to admit as she had once told him that she was scared of relationships.

Months passed in the same way and their loved grew deeper and stronger. But the busy schedule kept them from talking to each other for long. She kept calling he kept telling her about his zillion meetings he had to attend and projects and things became weird. They had more fights than ever, his aloof reactions bothered her. She was scared for them and one day he stopped picking up or even replying to her messages. She called so many times and his phone was off, she knew something was wrong. His facebook said everything; he was in a relationship with someone. Nishtha cried and cried and could not understand any of it. “How could he do that to her and why” was all she could think of. She called for a month but no one picked.

After a long time she receives a mail from him,” Nishtha, I love you but I can’t be with you because this girl is crazy and she will die if I don’t be with her.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read the mail. She couldn’t get it, “if he loves me, he should be with me. What about me, what about my dying inside every day, hoping that one day you will come back. What about my going through the long mails u sent me, the messages…. “ she loved him too much and she was wrong she was alone, he didn’t love her, he just liked her and now he is gone and would never come back. She didn’t know if he was right or wrong, all she knew was that she was left alone. That night once again she cried herself to sleep again...

Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once

The heat is on, it is getting to me. The heat is fatal. Now to think about, last few days have been rather complicated. When there is too much on the plate, you never know where to start and with what, too much to do and just not knowing where to start and with what and when you do start there is that continued feel of all the other that needs to be done. So it all ends up in a fix.

A few days back, a girl came to me crying and opened up her past for me. A very strong willed girl I must say. She and her very good friend were out on a drive, things were fine they were talking, having some beers and discussing life. They stopped at a couple of places had food at a restaurant things were fine. In the evening before dropping her, the guy came close to her kissed her on. It was nice, both felt something very strong. After some days they met and this continued and they got a little more intimate. The guy fell in love with the girl. While the girl still liked him as a friend. Even after thinking a lot the girl wasn’t able to think of him as someone more than a friend. Thinking she would hurt the guy more, she started ignoring him and the guy started thinking that the girl used him. She tried to tell him, make him understand but he wouldn’t listen. I don’t blame him, he loved her. The girl tried to go back to the good friends they were, but things were not the same. Slowly they parted ways. The guy moved on with his life. But the girl still sits there thinking that maybe she used him. She cried and cried, I couldn’t stop thinking about it later. The guy moved on, and so should she I told her. I told her it was past, it was long back.

She was looking for someone to understand her, someone to tell her that she is not a bad person. I hope she felt better after she went home. The question just stayed in my head, how people keep blaming themselves for things happened way in the past and cling to the bad memories more than the good ones.

Maybe after that day even I am thinking too much about the mistakes I did in the past, maybe I m blaming myself unnecessarily. To think about it now, were they really mistakes? No one tries to fail or mess things up on purpose. Each one of us wakes up in the morning, walks out in the world and does the best we can. Understand it is important to take responsibility of your mistakes, but it doesn’t mean you let your past grip you.

I want to ask you all; do u think she is wrong? Do you think she should spend all her life crying about a mistake she did? Do you think we should seize our mistakes and keep feeling guilty it happened?

A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives flowers.

Hey this blog is dedicated to my dearest friend divya, coz she is the one waiting for my blog for so long :D. Anyways, this time I will talk about something even I am not too sure of. These are just my views on it, they are quite random and some can even be wrong. It is something that I have learnt from books and long discussions.

Today I am discussing the something I am. Some call it God some call it a chemical reaction or maybe you can call it A or something else. The unknown cannot be taught, it has to be learned. And even when you have learned it, it remains unknown, that’s the beauty of it. God never becomes knowledge, but on a contrary the more you know the more mysterious it becomes. As you come near the centre all certainty is lost, all clinging disappeared. So sometimes we confuse it with that there is no God. But when we actually reach the centre, the seeker within us is lost, the knower has disappeared. When there is no knower how can we reduce the unknown to knowledge?

Saints throughout centuries have asserted that God is ever copious and there is no limit to his grace. While man may get wary of asking, he never gets tired of giving. His treasures are unlimited and there is nothing man desires and cannot get. All men are made alike. They have the same origin. The maker is also one. They are a drop of the same ocean and have the same ultimate end. He is real, eternal. He is everlasting; everything in the universe and universe itself is false. He alone is true.

We sometimes feel that we are being tested. I say it’s a part of ignorance. You can test something that you are not sure of. If God tests you that means he doesn’t know you. But it is not the case. He knows your past, present, future, your strengths and weaknesses. He alone gives you strength. We only test ourselves, because we do not have confidence. We always see God as a fatherly figure watching us somewhere from above. We demand like a child, but when we see God as a child we have no demands. God is the every core of our existence. God clings to you like a baby to his mother until you die. Love it like a mother; take care of it as you do for your kids. Love makes every object come to life. We see the children talking to the moon; they say that the moon smiles to them. As if it expresses its emotions to them. A mere mouse, Mickey mouse, is seen like a living human being but as we grow up some of us start to consider even a living mouse as an object. See the God into everything, even the mouse.

Now, you may ask that why aggressiveness is there or anger in the world if God is watchman to every one? But you may have noticed that they become aggressive when they see u r weak. Everything here belongs to God, just relax and be prepared to go down. If you go down on the floor, you cannot be bought further down. Have faith in him as you are not alone. Don’t surrender as it is what the meek do. Surrender is not an act it’s a state and we can never recreate a state. Jealousy and anger are not the traits of God as he is the only one, the sole creator. He has no one to compete with, no one to look up for. Have the ability to see God in the person sitting next to you. The food we eat is God and the stomach ache we get is also God. Everyone and everything within us and outside, every existent thing is God.