Tag: men

A very good start

We are in the midst of some challenging projects. Thoda dar hai. I mean they are not conventional projects ( but when have we followed the conventional path in any area of our life?).  A lot of reading, discussions and brainstorming is required. We love it and that is what keeps us going. The fact that there are constantly new challenges and hidden threats at every nook and corner of the path.

There is money to pay the bills for this month. I mean that is great. Because the 7th of every month was a terror for so long. And all the bills (love letters) hold no fear for us anymore. That our lives are abundant today is a miracle beyond our wildest dreams. That we also have ‘respect’ is an added bonus. We actually worked only for earning ‘respect’ and somehow the ‘money’ came along with it. It has reinforced our belief that running after money is of no use at all. It comes to us when we are ready to receive it.

The office is running. The pantry is churning out three meals a day ( not to forget the midnight snacks) and is getting better at providing healthy meals for all ( from the peon to the manager, no discrimnation at all). There is water. There is work. Thank you God. Thank you very much. For everything. The admin is in place. The accounts is in place. The technical team is also strong. Amazing. Aewsome. We are truly blessed.

Appu has chosen to dance. Full time. Daytime. Nighttime. All the time. So be it. This is what comes naturally to her.This is who she is. A dancer. Just took me a lot of time to accept it in the ‘gut’. The ‘nut’ (brain’) accepted it but  takes time to travel from the nut to the gut. Wish you all the best Appu. Go follow your dream. Wherever it takes you.

I have been invited by ‘family’. Yes by my brother. It is strange as they have dis-owned me from the past so many years. My father has shared that my mother has willed the entire property in the name of my brother and that he wants to record my statement ‘ that I need no part of it and that I will never go to court to ask for my share’. Aisa bhi hota hai. How many laws can you make? If the men of the family do not wish to give the rightful due to their daughters/sisters, then all the laws are redundant and uselss.

We are working most nights. And attending calls/meetings most days. So we are all very tired. I guess that is the price we have to pay for earning an honest living, for wanting respect more than money. I hit a truck head-on in the early hours of the morning while returning from one such night out. The car got crushed and I have no idea how I got saved miraculously. Guess God has got some work planned for me on this planet Earth which is as yet unfinished. Thanks HP.

A lot is going on in the world outside. Politics, scams,dis-honesty,rapes. And it hurts. Yet, we have come to accept that we are powerless over everything except our selves and our actions. If we can live a good, clean, honest life, if we can each be a leader in our own area, if we can clean up our side of the street, if we can be self supporting and stop being parasites on the world, it will be a good start.

A very good start.


‘Take it or leave it’

Long time.  Difficult to take time out for the best things in life. Like spending time with Appu, a walk in the park, writing, listening to music, connecting with a Higher Power. It is easier to lose oneself in this mad frenzied race for name, fame, money. And we have been working nights and days. Continuously. Without a break.

A lot has happened. We have shifted office. After umpteen iterations of re-doing the same interior  work to achieve a minimum level of acceptability. It is a big and lovely office.Sometimes when I work alone in the night, I think ‘ ki hamari toh itni aukat nahin hai’. It is a dream which has come true. We have a good working space.  The team has walked out once again. Its easier to take the exit route under pressure. Its easier to walk away when there are deadlines and committments to keep. Very few men and women who are truly professionals. Who refuse to quit when the going gets tough.

My parents still think that I am sleeping around to make money. That a few men are funding me, since I am incapable of standing on my own two feet, at least in their eyes. I guess I will have to die with this dis-respect. The biggest crimes, the worst dis-respect always begins from home. The dis-respect from the world is always very small compared to the rejection from people who are supposed to care for us and do not or cannot.

Appu has decided to live on her own to get some focus on her life, away from me, away from GC. Very courageous act. Very lonely. For both of us. She needs space to grow up. But it is difficult to let go of one’s child. Difficult to accept that they need permission to live their own life according to their choices and face the consequences.

The elections, the netagiri, the speeches, the empty promises, the comparisons, the hope and the shattering of expectations again and again. It is very difficult to accept the truth. That no one can change our lives. We have to be our own messiah. Our own saviours. No one can bring about a miracle in our lives except ourselves and a Higher Power. People can support us. But no one can change our life for us. That responsibility is solely ours.

But it is easier to expect someone else to take responsibility for us. So we keep looking for a leader. For a saviour. Without becoming one ourself. This is a dream. An illusion. A mirage.

There is only one reality. Only one path. Only one choice.

To be a leader. In our own life. Because we can only choose the right leader when we become a leader ourselves.

Take it or leave it.





Any buyers?

The rapes, the drainage, the bribes, the abuse on the roads, in the families, the rot of the politicians, the glamourous malls and the shit behind them, the sale of mind body and soul.

There is truly no point in bringing more children into this country. Specially girls. They are not safe in their own families, on the roads, in their professions. Barring a few who are able to prove their mettle beyond reasonable doubt, the majority are always at risk. Any  father of a girl can have no peace of mind, ever. Izzat ke liye izzat becho. For gaining false respect in society, we have to give up on our self respect.

Aur is sab ke beech mein zinda rehna. Just to stay alive is a task. And what would success mean in a rotting society? Does it matter? When there there is so much of poverty of ‘thought’ all around, what would it mean to have a lot of money or fame or name?

Where are the young men and women of character? with a purpose? with a mission? Who can live and die for what they believe in? The youth of today change jobs for money, for glamour. Wish to make a quick buck without the hard work, change girlfriends faster than the websites they search, have no respect for education or research or seniors. How can they hold the future of this country in their hands? And what future are we offering to them anyway? A future where everything has a price? Relationships, career, sex? Everything can be bought if only you have enough money?

The lanes of the colonies we live in are jam packed with long limousines. There is no space to walk, leave alone cycle or play. And the more number of houses/cars one has, the greater the respect. Chalo bhaiya, sab cocaine bech lete hain. Let us buy houses, land, cars by hook or by crook. Ajeeb pagalpanti hai. Complete madness.

Daaru for votes, for elections is being distributed. Money, blankets, empty promises. That is all it takes to buy our vote. We are so cheap.

We are dying. All of us. And yet we wish to prove that we are a huge success. Every moment. Acting kar kar ke thak nahin gaye yaar?

We need some leaders and fast. leaders ready to die to make a change. Leaders with no political ambitions. No greed of the chair.

Everything is for sale.

Any buyers?


And then ‘Cut’

So much of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

The furor over the ousting of an IAS officer. Naya kya hai? Thodi sachhai samne aa gayi toh dard ho raha hai? That is the truth behind the ‘lal batti ki gadi’, ‘ the illusion of power’, ‘the glamourous future’ that attracts people from all walks of life to choose to be an IAS officer. The ‘uneducated’ rule the ‘eductaed’ in this country. Kamal hai. Aapko pata nahin tha abhi tak? yeh to roz hota hai. Isme kya nayi baat hai? The IAS officers have no choice but to become ‘ specialized personal assistants nay slaves’ to the ruling political head. It is common knowledge. And he/she dare not affect the channels of money, legal or illegal flowing to the political coffers. Bhaiyya ‘crores of rupees’ ki baat hai. What is the career of one IAS officer before the crores and crores of rupees at stake?Kya bachhon jaisi baaten kar rahe ho? Honesty, imandari -yaar kitaab main achhe lagte hain yeh shabd.

I have been implicated in a false case of beating up an ex-woman peon just beacuse she came to ask for her salary. Not only that, she has alleged that I encouraged the guard of the office to molest her. I mean it is pre-posterous. Whereas the truth is that she came with four drunk men of the local MLA who assaulted me and the guard in our own office at night. Samajh nahin aata ki rona chahiye ki hasna chahiye. Or maybe both. So with everything else in the office, there is a false court case to fight. This is the poverty of our country. Not the lack of money, but the poor minds.

The office has too be shifted. Huge job. Of course not bigger than living. Just living is the toughest job. We have work. The team is building up. The admin is in place. So is the accounts. The technical is shaping up. The only glitch being that we work mostly in the nights now. In place of being a ‘once upon a time feature, it has become a daily routine. Very taxing. very tiring. Od course Appu is bearing the brunt of it. She is alone in the nights on all days. It is going to be difficult for her to forgive me for this.

I have a couple of questions for God. Actually many. Chakkar samajh main nahin aa raha hai.  Need a date with you God.

The rest as they say is history. The bills, the rations, the repair, the maintenance, the rents, the salaries.

So much of sound and fury. So much of drama. Action. lights, camera.

And then ‘Cut’.

‘A letter to Mom’

The day just gone by happened to be my biological birthday. Nothing great about it. I do’nt even think that I have had a spectacular innings or have broken any world records. All I can honestly say for all these years is that ‘ we survived’. Me and Appu. Appu and me. Whichever way.

But Appu thinks otherwise and she and ‘The Team’ at the office decided to throw a surprise party for me with lunch and it was very touching and inspiring. No fakeness. Just down to earth affection and caring. No huge gifts or glamour. A huge potted plant from a nursery ( because of my love for plants) and an illuminated portrait of Krishna( as they saw the Bhagwad Geeta) on my table. Very thoughtful. The best part was that that everyone from Sunita ( who cooks food in the office)  to Sana ( who takes care of the phone and various admin issues) to Rajesh ( the guard) to the technical guys, Rajat and Soma, all came together as a team. This bonding was beautiful. And the ‘sutradhar’ of course was Appu who also choreographed the show in anonymity. Myself, who claims to know every little event that happens in the office had no clue that this get together was being organized.

Thank you guys. For the team spirit you displayed. For the bonding. For the TLC (tender loving care).

My father called. Wished me. Asked me to save some money for the rainy days. So far so good. Then the same tape. My classmates were making so much more money than me. ( So what papa? It is ok. I have my dignity, work that I like doing and Appu. We have a decent life, we are self supporting). And then some more. You should not make friends ( what you mean is ‘men-friends’, right? But where were you when I was alone, without money for any treatment even when I was sick? Did you think then that I could get used or abused by men/women alike? Aaj yaad aya aapko? Aaj aap advice de rahen hai?). It is Ok papa. You could not be there for reasons best known to you. I have stopped judging you. Please stop judging me. We did our best, you and me.

What I also remember from the day gone by is that my mother never called me. I wish I could write to her and ask: ‘ Mom, would you have loved me if I had made more money? Or if I had been more successful in the world outside? Or had more name and fame? Would you have loved me if I had been more of a traditional daughter? Would you have loved me if I had stayed in my marriage despite knowing that it had broken up long ago? I tried you know. For a long time. To make you happy. Even if I was dying inside, I wanted you to be happy. And then somewhere I gave up. Do you even know when I gave up trying?

It was that moment when I had no money, no husband, no place to hide myself or my daughter. I called you. You came with Dad. And then you said that it was all my fault that my marriage broke. My fault that everyone left. And so I had to face the consequences on my own. You drove away with Dad and I was running behind your car. Till I was tired. At that moment I knew I was alone. For better or for worse. That it was just me and God. That you were never there. And it was at that moment I accepted that I had no Mom. I loved the title of Mom. but there was no one there. never had been for a long time.

So I guess you just gave birth to me and forgot. I do not know if I need to be thankful to you for giving me birth or resentful for abandoning me.

And so , I really do not know how to be a Mom to Appu. I just keep trying to not do, what you did to me. Maybe that is not enough. I do not know.

Maybe someday I will have the courage to write that letter or ask you face to face: ‘Why the hell did you abandon me’?

Someday, I will write.

A letter to Mom.

Jai Hind.

The cops are a copout.

We have lost faith in the entire police system. The cops seem to be more dangerous in their uniforms than actual goondas. 

What happened in this office with us yesterday is a matter of shame for the entire country. The police was hand in gloves with the two boys (ex-employees) who have powerful connections in terms of money and position (their uncle is a commissioner apparently in the police department) and created violence in the office with legal permission so to say. The entire operation was staged to support the illegal elements for unlawful gains and control. The incident has created so much fear in the remaining employees that no one wishes to work in this office anymore.

All the employees walked out today because of the chaos and violence created by these two boys fresh out of college  who had blood in their eyes as  their services were terminated due to bad behaviour. And no action has been taken against them. In fact the manager (admin) who was beaten up by them has been forced by the police to change his statement so as to protect the two culprits. The  manager changed his statement by 180 degrees after being intimidated by the police. 

What a country? What a shame? And these are the uniformed men? men? You think so? 

Is that being an officer? 

There was another incident where I was beaten up by the goons of the local MLA of Okhla Phase-I and  no action was taken on my complaint by the SHO  of Okhla Phase-I Thana. Aam baat hai. The goons bet me up and left. Simple hai. After all the MLA is behind them. I am sorry my parents got me educated. Education does not help in this country. Goondagardi does. Its good to be a goonda. And a man in this country. All this talk about women protection. All humbug. All for political gain. For votes.

 Jungle Raaj. Just camouflaged in the garb of civilization. Very scary.

Is anyone listening?

 Jai Hind.

‘Let the penis rule’

Guys and Gals, I am really upset. With what has happened. With what can happen. And with what is happening around us.

Hi, This is Aparna and I am a woman. It has been a struggle to survive in this country as a single woman. All these years.  Every day. Every hour. To fight for basic self respect from the men all around. To prove everytime that just because I am working, Just because I am living alone, I am not available. I am not of dubious character. To the landlords, to the clients, to the bankers, to the drivers, to the accountants, to the shopkeepers, to the men on the street. I began wearing white. I stopped looking good. And still the respect did not come. Many continue to think that there is a man behind me. There must be a man behind me. How can I stand alone with no support and with my back straight , my self dignity intact?

And so I have a solution. We should declare that in this country the ‘penis’ rules publicly. Anything and anyone with a penis can get away with murder. He can abuse, violate everyone with a vagina, rule the house, rule the family and rule the country. He has the property, the social and cultural rights to be a superior human being just because he  has a penis. He can treat the women as sex objects, humiliate them, rape them mentally, emotionally and physically and use physical force to prove that he is the ruler. In fact, I say that we should make it the national symbol. We should put it on our national flag, make it an election symbol. Because that is the only thing we worship. Many men have nothing to boast of except the fact that they have a penis between their legs. It is disgusting.

Let us put up posters of the penis everywhere. In the temples, in the mosques, in the churches, in the buses. It is nauseating to say the least. This is what we have earned in 60 years of independence. This is the heritage that we are proud of?These are the men who claim to be providers, protectors, keepers of our respect? And this heinous act in the capital city of this country? What is the example set for the rest of the country? That if species with a penis can get away with this in New Delhi, then what is the guarantee of any safety in the other cities of this country? But maybe the men there are more human. Maybe the penis for them is right where it should be, between the legs and not in their heads. Because men walking around with a penis in their minds is obnoxious. Groping for bottoms, breasts everywhere. What abject poverty? What a shame?

What are we doing in the streets? Fighting for what? And asking for justice from whom? from the men themselves? There are men at the top and men at the bottom. Can we take the fight back home to our own families? Ask our mothers to fight the abuse of our fathers? Ask our brothers and boyfriends to stop  belittling us, treating us as less than? Can we risk their disapproval? Risk being isolated? Take a stand? Can we stand up for any and every girl being used/abused around us? At the cost of our career? At the cost of social acceptability?

And if we cannot do any of the above, let us make India a country,

Of the men, for the men and by the men.

Let the penis be our national symbol in the world. Our biggest asset.

And let us kill the girls/women. Genocide. Get another Hitler to do it if required. He definitely looks better than a lot of our so called men. educated. sophisticated.

Bullshit. Horseshit. Whatever.

Let the penis rule.

‘Shantih Sarvam’

Shoonyta main Poornta. Fullness in emptiness.

From ‘nothingness’ to ‘completeness’. From noise to silence. From ‘takingness’ to ‘givingness’. From ‘togetherness’ to ‘aloneness’. From ‘talking the talk’ to ‘walking the walk’. Long journey. Of living from the inside rather than the outside. Of growing up. Of living in the spiritual realm. of following the spiritual laws. Laws which sepercede all the courts created and ruled by men.

The source of India’s richness and power lay in its ability to function within and from this spiritual realm. From its ability to live in simplicity. A source which is now fast depleting because we are aping the west blindly and getting dis-connected from this huge reservoir of limitless energy and abundance. And therefore we are getiing poorer by the second. And wondering why. This beautiful tradition of doing ‘namaste’, of bowing down to the spirit in each human being in prayer, of greeting with folded hands. Kahan dikhta hai? We have forgotten the art of respecting the spirit in ourselves and in other human beings. Then we want more cops, more laws, more judges, more security, more malls, more freedom without the responsibility. In short ‘more’ of everything. In the realm of the spirit, the ‘lesser’ is better’. Less belongings, less attachments, less cravings, less food leading to a simple yet powerful life. The most powerful feelings can be expressed through the simplest of words, the simplest of gestures.

Simplicity. Dhoonte reh jayoge.

As this year ends, we would like to greet every other human being on this planet Earth with folded hands, in humility and in prayer to the spirit within each one of us. We would like to pray for their well being, for abundance and peace in their lives. For all whom we have harmed and for those who may have harmed us. So here is asking for peace for everyone in our immediate family, For those who have owned us and for those who have dis-owned us, for all who have touched our lives in any small way and for those whose existence is unknown to us. May the bond of humanity within us be strengthened and may we learn to respect each other regardless of caste,creed,color,money,country and looks.

We would like to invite all our ex-team members of GC for making amends. All those who walked out in anger, in desperation. All on whom I shouted and screamed, all whose salary was deducted or not paid and all who have resentments against us. This New Year, please visit us and forgive us. We need all of you to send us positive energy. Each one of you has a played a very important part in our journey and we would like to honor you. Please be with us in mind and spirit.

And to Appu. For being present for her physically but absent emotionally. For exposing her to every possible danger, from being on the roads to being penniless.

“Om Dhyauh Shantir- Antarisksham Shantih,

Shanti Prithvi, Shanti Rapah,

Shanti Rosadayah, Shanti Banaspatayah,

Shantir Vishvedevah,

Shantir Brahma Shantir Sarvam,

Shantih Shanti Reva,

Shantih Sama Sganti Redhi

Om Shantih Shantih Shantih Hari Om”
Unto the heaven be peace, unto the sky and the earth be peace.
Peace be unto the waters; unto the herbs and the trees be peace.
Unto all the gods be peace, unto Brahma and unto all be peace.
And may all be peace.


To be born a woman

It is always there. Lurking below the surface. The fear of getting raped. Of getting physically mauled. And once in a while it happens. The iceberg below the surface causes the Titanic to sink. But it was not the 10% of the iceberg above the surface that caused the damage. It was the 90% iceberg that was submerged below water, the part that we could not see, that caused the ship to sink.

And so it is that we are reacting with protests, with outrage, with demands for a safer city, with a charter of respect for women ( you must be joking). Kaise badlega? How can we change the minds, the attitude of generations? Can we ask every mother on planet Earth to teach their sons to value and respect the girls and women in their life? That is where the dis-respect begins. In the womb of every mother. When the daughters are killed by their own parents. And if a daughter is born, she is supposed to be subservient to her brothers, fathers, husbands. This is where it begins. Can we change that? Have we been able to change that? It is another thing that emotionally and mentally, girls and women are constantly getting raped. Dikhta nahin hai. We notice only when the physical damage is done. But we should see where we slip and not where we fall.

What can the police do? Their own wives, daughters and sisters are being dis-respected, discriminated against in their own families. Apne ghar ki auraton ko izzat nahin de sakte, samaj mein kya karenge? Aur kyun karenge bhai? They just wish to protect their jobs. Whoever said that they wanted to become better men or men to begin with, at all? Police ki naukri kar li kyonki aur koi chara nahin tha. pakki salary, sarkar ki vardi, bas. Mission pura ho gaya.  Aur izzat ki keemat hi kya reh gayee hai hamare desh mein? jab sab kuch paisa hai to, rape kya cheez hai? Yeh izzat ka nara to bekar hai na.

Where are the men?

From uneducated drivers, peons, gardeners to educated engineers, CEO’s, GM’s, all have male egos but they are not men. Any challenge to their seniority ( due to the fact that they belong to the male species), and they become animals. Uncontrollable. Unpredictable. Savage. But our social set-up puts a halo around their heads and calls them ‘men’.

Yeh phir hoga. Aur phir hoga. The cycle will repeat till we think differently. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. The police cannot do it. The Parliament cannot do it. The politicians cannot do it. The change has to begin from each one of us. From every mother who has a son. And every son who marries and has daughters. And every citizen who has the backbone to stand up and condemn the dis-respect of women in any which way, emotionally, spiritually and physically. That is asking for a very deep surgery. If we cannot do it then there is no point in creating a ruckus and a hue and cry. Drama never changes anything. It just passes away.

The greatest disability in this world is to be born a woman.

Amongst men who are not truly men.

From mothers who do not want us.

In a society where money is everything.

Chillao. Aur Chillao. Do we even  know why we need to shout.

Because no one has ever really listened. And believe me no one is listening now. All concerned are just trying to save their skins. Waiting for the furor to die down. To get on with their lives and quest for power.

That is why I say female foeticide should be legal. Why should we bring girls in this world when they are not wanted, not respected, treated like sex objects, raped, humiliated, crushed. We can save them this pain. Kill them in the womb. The easiest, cheapest and fastest solution. Have only the men, no the boys. Because the boys who look like men refuse to grow up.  Yes, this is a feasible solution.

Just have the boys. Eliminate anything ‘female’.

Let the males rule the males and live with them too.

The greatest disability.

To be born a woman.

‘And the rise again’

There has been no project in the last month. Which means that the revenues for this month will be affected (That is a euphemism, let us say that there are no revenues expected at all!). God, the truth is so difficult, all the time. And the Diwali frenzy is round the corner where giving gifts is not a choice anymore. It is mandatory. It has to be done. By hook or by crook. And it has to be done with a smiling face. Diwali and Stress are now synoynms. The newspapers and media do their job of splashing all kinds of colorful advertisements which in effect state that if youc annot afford buying anything then you are a worthless person, a loser. Which is far from the truth but that is how the loudspeakers of our ‘look good at all costs society’ blare. Would love to just go to the mountains till the Diwali fever lasts. Ah, now that is quite a thought. The poet was right when he said that there are five ways to kill a man but the best amongst all of them is to just allow him to live because then he will die every day.

Work is worship. But in our country, worship is work. Anyone who has taken leave for religious purposes, anyone who keeps a fast is a messenger of God. We dare not ask him/her about work not done. Bhaiya vrat hai. chhod do. So with 36000 crore (I may be wrong) deities in our country, on any given day, at least half the country would be involved in some kind of puja/worship/fasting/celebration. Toh kaam kab hoga? How much time can we actually work? Subtract from the available time, the time lost in arranging for bijli, paani and the various ego issues, and we are left with nothing. It makes excellent time management sense to worship one God. One religion. Humanity.

The current generation is quite disappointing. Khoon nahin khaulta hai.There is a lack of ethical values, a lack of conviction, courage. In place of being honurable men and women, they have just become products. And saleable ones at that. Quoting dialouges commonly used in hindi movies, they have been brought up on powder milk, not breast milk or so it seems. In place of bringing about a revolution, in politics, in education, in civilization, they are meekly following the norms. Not wanting to give up an inch of their comfort zone. Just being the nice guys around the block. But ‘nice’ is not ‘good’ and ‘nice’ is not ‘right’.

I wish. I wish that my parents could believe in me. I wish that they had taken a stand for me. I wish that they could have loved me.
For now, my biggest asset is my daughter. The only relationship that has survived the continuous crises, the various ups and downs.

The rise and fall.

And the rise again.


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