The Land of Eternal Silica

In the land of the ancient kings, Egypt is a wonderful place to see. Across the vast expanses of the desert are scattered pieces of a beautiful civilization that has oft been said to be the pinnacle of scientific discovery and from whose depths came the Ethynkera Device whose accuracy in predicting moon patterns hasn’t been paralleled by even modern day computer.

Much that was great now lies tarnished and ruined. Around the great pyramids of Giza lies a sprawling city with little or no planning. The roads remain choked with traffic, the drivers as horrible as those found in New Delhi. Buildings adorned the skyline as I travelled from Cairo to Giza, buildings that were dreams of people lie empty and barren like hellish edicts.

The morning begins on the Alexandria Desert Road; a long day lies ahead as the bus tumbles on, twisting, turning, jumping at every hole or disturbance in the road.

Alexandria was one of the greatest ports of the new dynasty and was under Greek rule substantially. It was the setting of the romance between Cleopatra and Julius Caesar and between Cleopatra and Mark Anthony. It is the biggest port of the country of Egypt.

Now, Alexandria resembles a ghost town. The outskirts have tall buildings with unpainted and crumbling facades, the streets narrow and the people desperate for money. They start urging you to buy their fares the moment they lay their eyes on you.

As I leave Amud El-Sawari, I see a weekly market adorning both sides of the street. The shops sell Burqas, Street Jewellery and quite amusingly Women’s Lingerie in the open. It is a normal phenomenon as such but the presence of outdoor shops selling lingerie and women actually buying them seemed a bit odd to me, especially since almost all the women I had seen till now in Egypt had been wearing burqas.

The thing about Egypt is that, even though it has been oppressed for so long and it seems that it is heading towards another period of oppression, this time religious, the heart of the people remains very strong. Egyptians are the warmest people that I have met. I met a little boy named Ahmed; he came to sell me a book of old Egyptian coins. I told him that I had already bought a few from Alexandria. He asked me what I paid for them and quietly replied that I had been given a good deal.

He did not try to persuade me to buy it again. He stood with me near my bus as I finished my ciggerete; he was not even old enough to be in college. He told me about the schools in Egypt and how they teach. At the end when it was time for me to leave, he hugged me and said goodbye. I instantly reached to check if my wallet was there, it was something stuck in my system. I felt horrible inside, Ahmed did not see me check for my wallet, he had already gone.

Amidst all the utter chaos of broken facades and unpainted buildings stands this majestic building inscribed with words from countless languages, the new Library of Alexandria. You go inside and it does not look less extravagant than the library of congress itself. State of the art security systems, 8 floors of books, I felt in heaven, really.

Just outside the library were the 4 main universities of Alexandria and the coffee shops nearby were filled with students. They were quite an inquisitive bunch and bubbling with enthusiasm, not much unlike me. As I left with the coffee in my hand I felt bad for them, my future had endless freedom written on it, and theirs had Sharia.

I’m Disgusted.

 

This city needs a vigilante.

This city needs to wake up to several mornings of mutilated bodies of criminals splayed on the sidewalks.

If I had a gun and If I had the resources I’d shoot them all in the head. The rapists, the molesters, the ones who got arrested and the ones who sit at home smiling. If i only had a way, If i only had an ounce of authority or power.

Delhi has now crossed limits and boundaries and I think it is time that people take actions.

A man touches you on the bus, push a knife into his stomach. He looks at you wrongly, gouge his eyes out.

You just simply cannot wait for your “leaders” to make things right. Our leaders are nothing but an infestation of pests. The question or the debate is no longer about BJP or Congress because it is almost like choosing between two evils.

It doesn’t matter who is more corrupt or more honest or whatever because at the end of the day they all live by the same principles. They are all purchasable.

Women, you should kill all the men you see, in true honesty I feel that none of us deserve to live anymore. Maybe with our end the plague will die out, maybe things will change because otherwise I’m sure that everything in this world is corruptible.

The Usual Symptoms

You are so ready to feel loved and feel worthy of being loved and yet you are so choosy on what that love would look like. Think of all the various types of love you have received in your life and realize that someone who is always late all the time isn’t really that bad. Some of the people who said they loved you just wanted to find a shortcut into your pants or they called you names, hit you, messed up your head and left you all in the name of affection. Life forces you to reach a stage when even someone remotely showing interested in you, makes you feel like you’ve caught the big fish.

You allow the disdainful courtship to proceed fairly quickly because you want to hear them say “I Love You”. Getting to know them properly with proper amounts of reflection and hesitation is currently not your plan of action. There is just someone frequently finding themselves in your arms, giving you a sense of devotion. You don’t even feel that you deserve more.

You hold on to them very tightly sitting together on the sofa of a posh upmarket café, knowing that the moment you both leave things will be different. You come to get used to the fact that they only give love in minute amounts, yet you cannot get accustomed to it. You feel a certain amount of longing even when they are only a few feet away from you. Their presence at your side is always a pleasant surprise, never something that you can ever take for granted.

You ask them for more signs of commitment and they stall you. You want them to tell you how much they need you but inside you know that they will say it only to please you. You quietly pray to god for a version of them that cares about you as much as you do for them. You quietly wish that they take you to a place with all their friends and proudly present you to every new person you meet. Just think about the life you would’ve had, if you did not know that they somehow felt ashamed about you. You know that they will never declare true love but bring yourself to believe that you don’t care.

But you do.

You feel the grasp of the relation closing around your neck and yet you don’t get a kick in the shin to tell you that “You deserve better”. You tell yourself that you expected worse than this and are contempt with the current situation, shame on you.

You meet a common friend on the road and they ask you “How long have you been in love?” and your ‘lover’ meekly replies “Ohh! We’re just seeing each other!” It suddenly brings you to realize that you are in a platonic relationship but you gave them free benefits, all that you planned with them was just like contemplated suicide, harsh.

Best of luck explaining the situation to all your closest friends who you told about your true love.

You tell them you are not in love.

You know you are.

You tell yourself that you’ll choose wisely next time. You won’t.

I’m Angry, Furious and Raving Mad.

 

India is a country that borrows vastly from its past, such has oft been said about the country that I currently live in. Why India? Let us not anglicise the term, let us call the land Hindustan as our forefathers used to call it.

The past has shown women who speak for and think of themselves to be immoral and villainous; it is not I who is saying this. Go read the Mahabharata, the Ramayana or any Indian Scripture for that matter. On one hand our forefathers worshipped goddesses and on the other they condemned those who resembled embodiments of these very goddesses.

Women who are portrayed as the Perfect Woman in these epics are enormously beautiful, insanely willing to give service and totally dependent. They part that strikes as absolutely stupid is where the Evil Woman is neither beautiful nor willing to give and yet totally dependent on the males. A weird patriarchal society had been wrought by our forefathers that had no important place for women even though some parts of the Vedas argue.

The sex-appropriate ideals that are prominent throughout The Ramayana were a reflection of the patriarchal values that structured ancient Indian society. By placing the characteristics of the virtuous woman in stark contrast with the behaviours of men and immoral women, the epic attempts to justify the superiority of men and the subordination of women. This design also imparts upon the audience that the worth of a woman is measured by her beauty and the pleasure she can provide to her husband, and that her value was found through him rather than through herself.

Sita, in the Ramayana was captured by Ravana due to Rama’s foolishness and yet it has her character that came into question. It was she who had to take the “Fire’s Test” to prove herself. In this respect I find Ravana to be a better man than the ideal Rama, at least Ravana never forced himself upon the woman.

There are numerous examples in the glorious past of this country that detail the horrific crimes that have taken place on women. The “Nagarvadhu” was an elaborate concept detailed by our horny forefathers. A woman was chosen to be the “Nagarvadhu” or bride of the city, her work was to provide sexual satisfaction to anyone who came a knocking at her door. As I write this I am afraid that a religious fanatic of a political party might come across this and tell the world about this as a certain measure to stop rape in the present day.

India is actually one of the few countries in the world to have propaganda for “Religious Prostitution” in the ancient times. Pre-Pubescent Girls were married off to the Temple Idols and very conveniently had to service the priests, devotees and wayfarers.

Moving on to the medieval age, it simply does not matter because nobody in today’s society has heard of Razia Sultana, Durgavati, Mirabai and it has no effect on the minds of the people either.

The British oppression further widened the rifts between classes and turned women into objects. The British chased after the so-called “Dark Skinned Beauties” and raped them in front of their families, sometimes they had orgies where the family of the woman were called as servers. The situation was quite horrific. The British afraid of these facts leaking out did an about turn and started blaming the Indian men for blaming their women, this further aggravated the Indian Public and during the Revolt of 1857, nobody was spared.

The last thing that actually ruined things was the interpretation of women in Indian Cinema. Indian Cinema has always, and I repeat ALWAYS shown Rape as something that a woman enjoys after initial refute. You see a woman in a helpless situation with the rapist having a big smile on his face. The woman initially says no but then she is show kneading her toes into the bed which is shown as a sign of enjoyment. This is disgusting.

After the incident, either the rapist is never caught or the victim never tells anyone to save her face in the society or something equally absurd. Even if she gets justice it is only due to a timely intervention of the hero.

On the same terms we should make a certain movie compulsory for every boy in this country, a certain movie called Zakhmi Aurat. See this gorgeous review and synopsis about this movie – http://bollywooddeewana.blogspot.in/2009/10/zakhmi-aurat-1988.html

 

 So either you people raise your kids well or I’m going to go around showing this film to your kids and explaining to them what rape is, what castration is and how to respect women properly. It is a fair warning to all you people who read this and I’ll soon be interacting with those that cannot possibly read my blog.

 

This post is a ramble, I wrote non-stop and vented out everything in my head at once. I will not give solutions because those are debatable. I have listed a possible chain of events and perpetrators that have ruined society but it is not meant for blaming the above reasons for their actions. I am not defending anybody. If I had my way I would make them public examples of ridicule, shame and horror but then I am just an enraged 22 year old and my views hardly matter to the important people. Read this, discuss this, critique my views but before you drag me to the gallows for writing blasphemous things, do something to bring about a change in you. I’m not defaming anyone or anything, not even breaking any IPC. If however I am found guilty of doing so, arrest me.

Obese People Are As Good As Dead : “Shit Non-Fat Assholes Say”

 

Around 90% of people associate Obesity with imminent death. When you’re obese, everyone you meet is a well wisher, everyone has an opinion to give about your weight. People call you fat. I simply don’t understand how that has become an insult.

All of these people have certain cliched things to say:

“Beta, Why don’t you run?”

Well simply because I have tried and it does not work. Then again since I’m fat, anything that I claim to have tried or done about my weight is negated unless I have a lean-mean toned body at present.

“Metabolism? Arrey ussey kuch farak nahi padhta!”

Ya great, I never knew you were a doctor. How did you guess that my body’s inability to properly digest food is all bullshit? Oh the agony of knowing, of having consulted so many expensive doctors. If only you had appeared before me before, in shining light.

“Bro Gym Maar Yaar”

Oh! How come I never thought of that? Maybe because manual exercise is painful, it hurts my already effed up spine. My spondylosis, which is partially genetic hurts me, causes me pain. When I run, it hurts. When i sit, it hurts. It just hurts a lot from exercise Ok?

“You never try hard enough! You don’t care about your future!”

Ahh well. I don’t. Simply because I have and it doesn’t change shit. And as for my future, yeah my plan is a painful form of suicide which spans atleast 5-6 decades and involves me consuming everything that compels me to continue living.

“You’re going to have Health Problems. Fat kills you!”

Yes, on an average fat people tend to have heart problems but the majority of them are morbidly obese, have diabetes, sleep apnea and other hyper tension related diseases. No they don’t occur just like that.

I have as much chance of dying from obesity as of getting hit by lightning during a storm. I should propably stop enjoying rains too.

I just can’t understand why my weight appears to you as such an eyesore, you random strangers, relatives and guests.

I’m fat. It’s somewhat genetic. I could do all the shitty running and jogging, I could starve to death but I will remain the same.

Studies have shown thin people as having higher risks for heart disease, People should be glad that I didn’t have bulimia. Life is complicated folks, so stop stereotyping and branding things.

Obesity does not kill anymore than common cold. Sometimes you can have a metabolism which may not allow you to lose weight, sometimes your body frame may be too stocky. All external factors, multiple things that can affect a person.

So stop being pitiful and mean. Let a man with a paunch teach you the pleasure of eating. 🙂

 

P.S. – BMI is shit. Look here instead.

Kuch Bandh Padha Hain

Na jaane in darazo me rakka kya hain?
Kya hain woh khilone bachpan ke,
Kuch tute kuch adhmare se,
Jinke saath ab meri khelne ki chaah nahi h.

Ya phir rakhe hain kuch khat,
Kuch yaadein simat kar rakhi gayi hain.
Magar dhool jami hain darazo par,
Kya kholta hoga inhe ab koi?

Raakhe honge kuch purani baatein,
Woh school ke medal aur scholar badge ki yaadein.
Ab engineering padhte padhte unki,
Yaad aati hain khub jamke.

Yah hain bhai ki koi shaitani,
Koi surri bamb ya koi makaude.
Yaah kuch mithai chipai hogi usne,
Chup chupke khata hoga phursat me.

Na jaane in darazo me rakha kya hain?
Inhe kholkar dekhoonga kabhi.
Magar aaj waqt hi kaha hain,
College jaane se phursat hi nahi

Raindrops, Roses, Sunshine and again

I wake up on Mondays thinking that it is absolutely idiotic to go to college. My college, although a scumbag on all counts suddenly decided that we should not have more than 3 classes on Monday. So I wake up at 7:30, fight with sleep and cold water and everything, then jostle through traffic at 15 different points of my route and finally reach college at 9:15. Whoosh 3 hours later I am free for the day with nothing to do, Happy that I am now free, Sad that tomorrow I have college till 5pm, bastard I tell you.

It was hot today but Madame Haldar was convinced otherwise. She thought it was the beautiful autumn sun that we both love. I thought that it was hot. Anyway I gave into her ideas and we decided to go to Old Fort to click pictures and do boating. It was to be our first photo walk in a long long time.

On reaching Old Fort Barnita discovered that it was really still quite hot and we turned into sweaty messes in just about 5 minutes. However the camera kept dragging us on, once you are possessed by it there’s no letting go. So we went crazy and kept clicking lots and lots of pictures but finally the heat got to us. We even gave up on the idea of boating.

Cooling ourselves with a glass of chilled Lassi and a Coke we headed out to have lunch as our stomachs were rumbling quite loudly. Now this is the point where something really funny happened. We had decided to go to Khan Market but somehow I just couldn’t manage to find it. We followed the road signs and asked people, the whole shebang but we just couldn’t find it.

Wandering about a bit more in the car we reached Lodi Garden which was also were we had one of our best photo walks and Barnita had clicked an amazing picture of a tree. Suddenly my brain churned up some distant thoughts and I remembered that the Alliance Francaise Cafeteria claimed to have some nice and cheap food and hence with Barnita’s approval we both set out to a lunch in Alliance Francaise.

The surroundings encouraged us to try out a French dish and there were definitely some on the menu. Yay. 😀 I really wanted to have fish fingers for a change and that really made Barnita happy. (More on my affliction towards fish later) The other item on the menu I had my eyes set on was the Chicken Cordon Bleu. Sadly both the Fish Fingers and the Cordon Bleu was unavailable. I settled for a Poulet a la Normandy(Grilled Chicken with Mash Potato and Salad) – Rs. 200, a Mushroom Cheese Omelette – Rs. 50 and the usual culprit a singular Lemon Iced Tea – Rs. 30. The quantity was quite generous but I found the Mashed Potato a bit dry and the Grilled Chicken a bit undercooked, but the flavours were intact and nice. It did well to fill our stomachs and the Omelette was just the way I liked it so no complains there.

After lunch it started raining and Barnita had an amazing idea to go boating near India Gate. After wandering around various roads in Lutyen’s Delhi we finally reached India gate. The boat ride was nice and romantic and a beautiful end to an amazing day.

ON the way back it started raining cats and dogs and Barnita went crazy clicking pictures. 😀

Sadly and obviously there was a part involving us being stuck in traffic for 40 minutes but that can still be overlooked.

All in all an amazing day after a long long time. 😀

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Nu Sms Received

I hv nthn left 2 sy
In ths tym of lst wrds so fw
Drms tht exst in spaces so shrt
Tht nthng is inded nu

D wrds r lst, d ltrs gn
Engls is mde anew.
In distnt plms of yng 1s
Shk sprs yng and nu.

To The Cause of Love

 

Two years sailing in this wonderful dream and yet I do not know what it is truly.

Love is a very strange word. The longer it lasts the stranger it gets but I somehow feel love cannot be fathomed so easily.

I feel that your understanding of love grows at par with the duration of it. In those terms I only have 2% idea of what love actually is but then again its relative. It can depend on the span of life, being in love etc etc etc.

Love is strange, but I know whats not. Being with you.

It has been a wonderful two years with you love. Immensely joyous, terribly irritating. It gives me a terrible headache at times and really good feelings at others. It’s a wonderful, amazing journey with you and it does not compare to anything else in life.

You are a combination of things that I love and things I lack. You are beautiful, you are kind, you don’t have a single bit of patience and you never get my jokes.

You are strange, you are wonderful, you are what happens when dreams are dipped in colour. I may be mushy, I may be openly romantic, hell I may be cheesy but I will not miss an opportunity to tell you how much I love you.

No matter when you are sad, angry, pissed or irritated, I still love you. You test my patience like hell at times but I can’t help not loving you.

You do the wondrous things at the most amazing moments which make every day of being with you an eternal adventure. It has been 2 years and still at times I can’t tell what you’ll do when, I love your impulse.

You are confused about many things, yet you have this insane capability to love. You end up caring for people whom you hate, you are just amazing that way. You are special, you are crazy, you are gift to me.

I just want to say. I love you. I really love you.

–          A crazy crazy man

Shopping with Women

Putting it forth more as a general observation than a general statement; Women love to shop.

Women love to meander their way through floors of one shopping arcade after another. They like to glide up glass escalators past a grand piano, or spray a perfume sample on themselves on their way to, maybe, making a purchase. Sale’s make them go even crazier. They’ll pick up every item of clothing on sale, put it against their body, critique it and put it back. Even then the Sales People pay more attention to them.

When they go on to the next shop and find a similar item of clothing as in the one before, they definitely have to know the price and then comment on whichever was better. Women are also considered masters in bargaining, if I could I’d let a lady do all my purchasing while I select the items myself. Just helps getting better value for money that way. Although I speak with no personal experience of being present with a girl choosing make-up, (Mine believes in simplicity, Bless her. :* ) I can definitely say that it must one hell of a dung bomb. Standing there seeing the girl with you pouting her lips, applying lipstick, taking it off, applying another and so the vicious circle continues. I feel blessed that I don’t have to go through this at least.

We men follow a simple routine: Enter, Select, Try, Buy, Exit. That’s it. We’re done and settled for at least the coming two months. I’m not saying that we follow this routine for everything we buy, No. I’m just commenting with respect to clothes, accessories, make-up and personal grooming.

Shopping for women is generally followed up by a widespread discussion of what she bought, how cheap it was and how awesome she thinks she looks in it with all of her female friends. While with men it’s just a thumbs up from your buddy next day in college.

While women have shopped with men (boyfriend/fiancé/husband) or at least tried, they seldom enjoy the experience. As I would say, Men are just more practical. We wouldn’t do any of those impractical things. Men on the other hand rarely shop with women if they’re not dating/married/to-be-married. It just causes us too much mental trauma.

Some studies even say that how men and women shop is sometimes related to how they indulgence in sex. Men start, do the deed and want to turn over and sleep while women see sex almost as a theatre drama with 3 main acts; Foreplay, Intercourse and After Play or Pillow Talk. Some men are different and so are some women.

Why I write such things? Well today I broke past my critical point. Almost 6 hours of shopping, talking about shopping, checking out shopping, dreaming about shopping more and cribbing about lack of money. Good benevolent being up there, I think I’ve had it for a lifetime. My legs hurt, I feel pukish when I look at clothes, I become blue when I look at sale signs. Someone please explain these symptoms to me. I may be dying.

Or is it just *Shopping with Women*?