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.
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.
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.
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.
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*?
She crept up silently from her bed and dusted the night’s madness off her self. It was an eerie hour of dawn and she began preparing her mind for the ordeal that lay ahead. She got off her tiny bed and looked out the window of her cramped little room.
The vastness of the view seemed to fight her meek existense, as if to sound out a challenge. She closed the shutters and rid herself of the prying eyes, the soul less glares. She tiptoed towards the bathroom stealing glances behind her, trying to find shadows in the non existent crevices of her dingy room. The shower welcomed her with warmth against the chill of the city.
She stood beneath the running water, a lifeless form, castrating thoughts, memories and distinguished nightmares from her mind. She was fighting it all but she knew today will be her last. She made herself a cocoon with the towel and wore her everyday clothes, a jeans, a t-shirt and the power to endure all.
She gathered her bag and left the room, her sad eyes scanned the room knowing that the room, her world might get lost today. She tiptoed down the stairs and into the open road, into the freedom.
Her clothes felt weird on her body, in reality she felt naked as she watched each man she passed by, strip her with his eyes. She pulled her clothes in tighter, afraid that they’ll be taken away in a horrible sort of way. She passed by more lecherous men and with time the glares got stronger, almost open challenging her chastity. Lewd actions had started making their presence felt, gestures of breast gropes and other horrid fantasies.
She felt like a hamster in a cage, running on a wheel to no result. Her mind fluttered in her darkness as her body took part in material erotica of the people she passed by. A crowd was approaching and as she was being justled from side to side she felt lingering touches on her breasts and bottom. Uncomfortable as she was, she had no choice, it was a ritual almost.
She remembered the senile old man who groped as she was touching his feet, the roadside romeos who pulled out their appendages even without any provocation from her side. The cars with black tinted windows who stopped beside her asking how much she took for the night. Men with their mind in the gutters, men whose head were still held high.
She looked behind abruptly and saw three men following her closely with evident malicious intent. She saw the gate on her left, it was close. Perhaps she should run but that would show her weakness. She walked on at a quiet pace, her ears rejecting the bile that came from the mouths of the men.
She saw the men catch up to her, she flanked to her right and entered the gate. She had reached college, she was safe another day, her life returned to her.
She would live for another day, her life was still safe but she would have to endure it again. Tomorrow, day after, day after day, such has become the existence of women in our horrid society.
Written on the eve of Women’s Day.
Nerolac Home Stylers was given a contract on the 22nd of November 2011 to paint 3 rooms of my house. Even though they were given the contract on the condition that they start the next day, they made an excuse and started the work on 24th November 2011. Nerolac had given us an estimate that it would take 3-4 days per room maximum to paint which summed up to maximum 12 days for the entire house. They wanted 3 checks to be dated such that one they would get on the 22nd of November, the second one 8 days into the work and the 3rd and final one after the completion of the project. The cheques were dated on their request as: 22/11/2011, 30/11/2011 and 04/12/2011. All of this on Receipt No. 219. The site supervisor was Mr. Ramesh and the Regional Program Manager was Mr. Rishikesh Ghosh.
The work in the first room started out fine until the workers started skiving work. One day there were 2 workers, one day there was one and one day they walked in at 12pm to begin work. Above this even the contractor came and started being to bossy. We had clearly seen that only 2 coats of paint were applied instead of the 3 required, he tried to convince us that all the 3 coats had been done. Surprisingly the newly applied paint could not even remotely match up in the ‘glossy’ effect to the 4 year old existing painting job. The contractor was cheeky enough to be sarcastic to us without even trying to disguise it.
We asked the Site supervisor to change the contractor since his behavior was just not acceptable and he was openly trying to con us, however we told Nerolac to let him finish the current room. Even though the walls were uneven and full of blemishes we told him to move on to the next room and continue this room later. This is till now the best work that has been put in.
A new contractor came in to start up with the new room. Firstly the workers had no experience at all, they even messed up the initial phase up putting the Putty and the walls were massively uneven and looked like bulging boulders. Secondly, after putting the primer the painting was horribly done too, there were blotches of dark paint on the wall. There were all sorts of lines, scratched and brush strokes. The work was totally shabby. Thirdly, the site supervisor having already supervised the room for two days realized on the third day that they had used the wrong color. So they start painting the wall all over again. Then they leave the wall that has to be textured and plan to do all texture walls together since the person who does that takes a lot of money. Once again being humane we allowed them to do that hoping they would atleast complete the work on time.
The work on the third room did not have any such problems as the others but today is the 16th of December and the work is not yet complete. Nerolac had promised us to have the work done by the 4th of December latest and they’re running 12 days behind schedule and yet two walls in my house are left without paint.
Whenever these painters run out of paint or sandpaper or putty they were made to wait 24 hours by their contractor for the new stock. This was getting out of hand for us so we had to resort to supplying the raw materials ourselves to get the work speeded up. We even resorted to giving them tea every day and a money for food in the hope that they finish the work soon but there has been no difference whatsoever.
Due to the fault of Nerolac Home Stylers and their Contractors we have been living out of a box for almost 25 days in our own home. There is dust everywhere and the workers don’t even bother cleaning the bathroom after using it.
Amazingly we couldn’t even wash off with Nerolac after being put through this turmoil thanks to their no refund policy and the fact that they had no clauses in their bill or agreement for late work.
They have caused us harassment and mental agony beyond repair and nothing they do will ever be able to repair it. Taking this up in court will just aggravate our hassles so I just wanted to share this incident with you all so that the same thing doesn’t happen with you too.