I have asked this question several times over the last few years. There is this constant feeling that I do not have that “one” person who is going to feel the loss. I am nobody’s love of life. Nobody is going to miss me every day, the way I smiled, the way I smelt, the things I liked, nothing. I will just be a mist that vanishes in the sunlight!
For the longest time, I wanted to be someone’s love, reciprocate the love. Just feel loved!
I have come to realize that I do not have that. However much I try, I am setting myself up just to get hurt. My friends, the beautiful souls that they are, always tell me that, it will happen, you deserve love and you will find it.
But, in all honesty, I do not believe that. I rather think “so, now, I do not have that and probably never will. So, what is the best way I can make through this? How can I be happy? Does it matter that nobody will cry when I die? Should my happiness depend on that “one”? Since I live alone, will anybody ever find my body, if I were to die?”
The answer is NO. A reluctant, but, a well thought NO. I am my own happiness! As cheesy as that sounds. I have an amazing family and a beautiful set of friends. So it is ok that, that “one” person does not exist. It is ok if nobody finds my body when I die!
On the same note, I do not want my family and friends to be upset when I die. I have always been a happy person. Even, in my adversaries, I pretended a great deal to be happy. I do not need anyone to cry!
Also, I cannot spend my life worrying about how well liked I am, if I will be missed, what others perceive of me etc. And as far as a lover is concerned, I dont want to worry when he leaves me, I don’t want to feel “not good enough”. I do not want to feel jealous and rejected.
I want to live now!!! I need my people now, I need that “one” now. Not when I die!!! I want to open my wings and fly high with them. Laugh till my stomach hurts. Create memories, reminisce about childhood and sing songs in pyjamas, tight hugs, warm kisses and so much more. Live my life. Just live it the best I can.
I do not care what happens, when I am not there, what comes after me! All I care for is now, right now, my present!
Ask yourself this: “the things that you are worrying about right now, will they matter when you die? Will you take them with you? How do you want to live? Just live or worry to death?”
You will have all the answers you need. So, don’t worry, live your life, free of obligations, loneliness, fear etc. Live before you worry about dying!!!
In this hashtag world, that we are living in, it is bracing to see a new hashtag every day.
Well, this one isn’t all that new. It is an old concept. Women in the late 18th century and early 19th century revolted against wearing corsets. As beautiful as corsets looked, they were uncomfortable to say the least. It was a well-documented and well-articulated movement. The women focused on the mental and physical health issues they caused. The result? Well, the corsets are obsolete. Our organs are free!
Let us talk about brassiere. The sexy sounding word, for the support for our breasts!
Every woman detests wearing a bra. Finding a good supportive bra, that does not hurt is way way more difficult and extremely impossible than, finding a good man who, respects and loves you. Both are a “myth”!
I remember the first time I wore a bra. A teenager bra. A training bra. I was very excited, I had seen my mom wear one and I knew it was a grownup thing. So, the little girl inside me was happy and excited to taste the adulthood.
After the feeling sunk in, I remember feeling very girdled, something heavy on my chest, the straps digging into my flesh. Little did I know, this is going to be a part of my existence henceforth.
Us women spend a fortune trying to find a “comfortable” bra. And, the range of choices, OMG, it is not even funny. I mean I am like talking to my breasts like: “guys this is for you, I am done spending so much money! What is it that you guys want? Underwire, lacy, t-shirt bra, sports bra, push-up bra, demi cup, xyz!!!!” well, only if they could answer! That would be magical, I would have magical breasts!!! And every man’s dream come true!
I like the days I am at home, not needing to wear a bra, my girls are free, they can breathe, jiggle, sag and be happy.
But, for the life of me, I cannot imagine not wearing a bra when I step out.
I can handle the potential stares and the hands trying to reach, but, I am not comfortable with the girls jiggling when I am traveling via metro or in an autorickshaw, or when I am running down stairs. I would find that extremely uncomfortable.
But, I get the thought process behind the whole free the nipple thing. It is to break the shackles. The restrictions. If the men can go shirtless and not get molested, so can we, so should we!
Heres the thing though! Our bras are equivalent to the men’s underwears. Both are restricting soft, round and jiggly things. Men sweat down there too, they find it uncomfortable too. Men do not parade naked and call it male chauvinism!
Seeing a random naked guy on the road is scary and scarring!
Us women are made a certain way. Do not turn our anatomy into prejudice. Let us fight for equality but also be understanding of the opposite gender. Isn’t compassion one of our greater qualities?
Just because we suffer, does not mean, the other gender doesn’t. Or that their suffering isn’t valuable enough!
Fight for freeing the nipple only if you are willing to tolerate naked penises around. It is justified isn’t it? Going shirtless just like men is not going to take us too far.
The women in the 1960s burnt their bras in the freedom trash can along with lipsticks and high heels to protest against the Miss America Paegent. They wanted to be not judged and not just be a face.
Why not protest against wearing heels? They are uncomfortable too. Wearing a pair of heels is a choice. Nakedness is a choice! They have nothing to do with feminism. There are better ways of making a sound for equality and this is not it. So, for now, my nipples and I are going to take the high road on this!
“Once, in a village, there was a goat. No one knew where she was born. The birth of an ordinary life never leaves a trace, does it?”— Poonachi, Perumal Murugan.
This is the first line in the book. A great introduction indeed!
I am an ordinary person, have always been and will always be. So, this line established an immediate connection between me and the book.
As a child, I have seen the goat herders take their goats out for grazing. I belonged to the “educated” well to do” class. So, I always found them fascinating. The multiple piercing these men had, smoking tobacco and just chatting away, collecting whatever caught their fancy, giving caution to the wind, carrying a box full of just rice, all of this just drew me to them.
And who can ignore the stench of goats? Ugh! the weird stench, and they would drop their fecal matter all over the place. Their cry bleeh, bleeeh, ugh! So, they looked cute, but, I was never fond of them. As an animal, they never really caught my attention like a dog or a cat or a horse or an elephant. I mean I never thought of them, until, this book!
The protagonist is a goat, a black doe goat. We are introduced to the old man who receives this goat by a stranger referred to as “Bakasura”. A small, feeble and black goat. She was so tiny, she resembled a kitten and the old man’s wife named her Poonachi.
We are taken through Poonachi’s life from her struggles as a weak, motherless child with the old woman as her angel guardian, who does her best to keep Poonachi alive, to her friends and playmates, to an opinionated, fierce, thoughtful doe in love!
But, does her life belong to her? What is her role in this world? Does she not deserve love?
The fable answers it all.
She is a miracle doe, gives birth to seven kids in one go. Nourishes the old man and his wife through a drought.
The first set of her kids are not from the one she loved, she loses all the childern as the old man and his wife could not take care of them. She gets reunited with Poovan, only to lose him.
And loses herself in the process.
Sounds familiar? It is. It is. This story is us. Going through the life as we know it. We think we own it, but there is so much more to it. Obligations, stereotypes, traditions, genders etc.. they are never ending. And our lives are the consequences of it all.
Life does not always give us what we want. Our dreams, expectations and aspirations are a small part of a big picture. But, is all of it worth our happiness.
Poonachi will make you ponder on this, see if you can find an answer for yourself.
Poonachi’s ordinary life left a trace, I hope your’s and mine does too!
For me the first line summaries the whole book. Do read it if you get a chance, you will be glad you did! Mankind or animalkind, we are all the same.
This was my review of Poonachi, I hope you do read the book and immerse yourself in the beautiful world spun by Perumal Murugan
Do you remember the time when stolen glances and coy smiles meant the guy likes us?
When the most intimate conversations were about teachers and exams! The dates were at pani-puri thelas! The blank calls on the landline phones!!! Friends making up various Bollywood songs with the guys name. His friends referring to you as “Bhabhi”. The ooooos and aaaas. The blush! oh that blush!!!!
Yes that time, that era, was something! It took a while to actually fall in love. To build on the attraction. The so called love at first sight.
I belong to that era. I have done these things to my friends and vice versa. I still do remember my first crush, not because I loved him or love him, but, because of the way it felt.
My friends and I spoke endlessly about our crushes, reminiscing each detail of the interaction, wanting more of it, but, too scared to act on it.
I am single now! In my early thirties. I was expecting the same “dating” when I ventured out.
But, but, but, to my surprise, people do not like interacting in person anymore. We have apps for that!
Ok ok, I get it. I order food, buy clothes, buy electronics, pay my bills, visit a doctor etc all through the apps. They have made our lives easier.
But this, right swipe, left swipe, I really cannot fathom. I have come to accept it, but, how, I mean how do you “like” a person? I mean you read the Bio, see the pics and then?
You randomly go on a coffee date. Drink expensive coffee, try and have a conversation. (this is if you do not want a one night stand)
But, does this really work. I don’t feel my heart racing when I go meet someone, it rather is unwarranted anxiety! I cannot have stolen glances, I have to project confidence, be cool and be desirable!
Do the right things, say the right things.
When did all of this change? When did we turn love and people to options? Are we so busy and uninterested in life that we cannot put in effort to meet somebody?
Am I the only one who feels so disconnected with the process? Maybe I am. Maybe I am old school. I still do crave for the innocence and the wait. Taking the time to know him, at least think about him.
Well, that just drives the men away! The usual response I get is that we met on a dating app. So, me being me, I went through the terms and conditions on the app. No where on the app, it says that, the people meeting on their platform need to have sex on the first date, or even just that they need to have sex. Otherwise, they will be barred from using the app. No it doesnt, it really does not say that!
It is us, who has made this the norm. But, why? why? why do we want to be an option, let people decide who we are, what we are based on a few words and pictures?
I mean even food that we order looks different from the pictures online, differs in taste! And we are people, we send and share quotes like, “I am a snowflake” quotes on uniqueness and all that on the social media throughout the day.
I have been asked things like: “Are you up for meeting tonight?”, “your place or mine?”; “you stay alone?” as the very first line. No “Hi”, no “Hello”, I mean why indulge in common courtesy, when all you need is a pussy!? I genuinely feel reduced to a pair of breasts and a vagina.
If a man likes the face attached to the breasts and vagina, yeah jackpot!
I hear people talk about one night stands as accomplishments. When did this become cool? When did treating humans like genitals become a good thing?
But well, the girl is got to do, what she is got to do!
Getting laid is the least I can do!(the most human contact I get anyway) So, aesthetically pleasing selfies here I come.
Or I can just have pizza and beer and call it a day!
Childhood is a beautiful time in one’s life. Playing, learning and loving; this is all children care about. They are God’s way of saying that the world needs to move on, do better. A child’s innocence is beautiful, the smile is infectious.
I wonder the last time Ashifa smiled. I wonder what was going through her mind when she was abducted, help captive in a TEMPLE, drugged and raped, gang raped. And, I cannot. I just cannot imagine.
This is being justified as a step to drive out the Bakherwal people from a village. This is being touted as communal move.
No religion supports inhumanity. Taking away a child’s innocence is not preached by any God.
This act is heinous and I am sure God has left us. We humans are his worse creation. Justifying and supporting these incidents on his name is certainly not what he wants. Building temples and raping little girls in it! No wonder women are not let in temples during menses, we are the unholy ones! He has left us, and now we only have beasts and satans around us.
Indians think cows are more important. The beef lynches plagued the country and that was supported but nobody wants to raise their voice in support of the children. There were protests against a character represented in a movie. But this, on this there is silence.
The violence against women is a lost cause. Even after Nirbhaya, the incidents continued, the illogical and illiterate comments continued. And we women have learnt to live with it.
Now it’s the children, now what? How are these little girls enticing? Will you say that she crossed a line while playing? What now?
Among the accused there is a juvenile as well. And this is not the first case with a juvenile involved in rape and murder. This is what we are encouraging our youth with. The country has a bright future.
“Hindu activists argue that some of the police officers who worked on the case are, like Asifa, Muslims – and cannot be trusted, according to the Times. Dozens of Hindu women have helped block a highway and organize a hunger strike.
“They are against our religion,” Bimla Devi, a protester, told the New York Times. She said that if the accused men weren’t freed, “we will burn ourselves.”” An excerpt from a news article.
I wish they burn themselves. I know for a fact that there is no heaven, we don’t deserve even the thought of heaven. But, sure wish there is hell and a special kind of hell for such people.
Imagine her screams, the confusion and the pain she went through. This is what was given to her in name of Hindu and Muslim, in name of land and temple.
I am sorry our freedom fighters, our ansectors, you fought for us to have a better world, but we disappointed you and made it worse.
Sorry Nirbhaya, Sorry Aruna; you died in vain, your fight means nothing to communal crazy people. Everything is politics and no child is worth more than religion, God and votes. I am sorry we did not realize this sooner!