The Way He’d Make Me Feel

I’m 25, I’m single and everybody except me is wondering why and quite a few have decided it’s their personal responsibility to set me up with the dream boy. Especially at weddings and family events, cupid sports a saree, big kumkum and comes smiling and ask fondly about my career, education and blah blah. “What are your expectations?” that question my friend, comes out to me in slow motion and I wince at every syllable that comes out of that heavily lipsticked mouth.

The question, in my humble opinion, is pointless. Which girl would ever say, “Yes aunty, bring on a drug addict, who looks like shit, doesn’t earn much and yeah the meaner the better.” Okay fine, I said it once to an aunt of mine but hello that was sarcasm! We all want the best!

But none the less, I want to think it out. What do I really want? Does he have to be rich, does he have to be a stunner, should he be funny, should he be a cook, should he blah blah blah!

And yeah, I don’t care about his profession, caste, complexion or whatever. I still wonder how those parameters help me decide if i want to spend the rest of my life with someone. So then what am I looking for?

I want a guy I can’t wait to see every day (yeah clichéd, i know!), somebody I can be myself with, somebody who understands why I do the stupid things I do, somebody who gets annoyed with those silly things and yet loves me enough to roll his eyes and put up with it. I want a guy who doesn’t make me feel like an idiot for being a klutz. I want someone who will catch me when I have my bizarre falls and then laugh about them with me. I want a guy who knows if I’m going to laugh or scream from the way my nose flares up. I want to be able to tell from his voice if something’s bothering him.

When we go out, I want him to know which table to pick, so I don’t crib. And I want to be able to order his dish, perfect to his taste without him having to say it. And once we place the order, I just want him to hold my hand and smile. I want to be able to sit with him, not say word and still feel content. I want to love his madness, his stupid ways and I want to love each and every one of his flaws. I want to crib about them, I want us to fight. I want us both to feel miserable after the fight, but still be eager to bury the hatchet.

I want all of that and I want to feel all of that for my man. Ab bolo, hai koi nazar mein?

PS: I’m singing ‘The Way You Make Me Feel‘ an old old song by Ronan Keating… ‘yeah, you somehow make things right :)’

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Inspired During The Marathon

I ran the dream run last week. I didn’t train much and I hoped to just walk if I couldn’t make it. Yes, I was excited, but I took the run for granted. I was registered by a friend of Dad’s who was going to be there with about 50 kids from his NGO. I shamefully admit that I knew nothing of the NGO.

Of course, when we met up at VT to go and report at the gate, I was introduced to the children and the NGO. The NGO is a shelter for the daughters of prostitutes. The girls are given education, a shelter and a few friends- A reason to smile.

As we made our way through the super crowded gates, I was introduced to a girl, who used this education to not only achieve her dream but also to provide for her mother. Thanks to this girl, her mother could opt out of flesh trade.

She gives the credit to education. How we underestimate education? We, who are sent to nice schools by our doting parents who also provide a cushy future.

This girl didn’t have it easy. She struggled to get the very education we take for granted. She is 20, but she is a super achiever according to me. As we inched to the start line, I couldn’t help but run. I ran because I was proud of this girl. She represented hope, she represented aspiration and to me she represented a better tomorrow.

I salute the spirit of thousands of women who take their destiny in their hands and change it. They break free from flesh trade, harassment, male domination and millions of other problems that plague their kind. They don’t accept what the society, culture or the religion hands them. They make their own path…

Beyond ‘now’

Searching for a new horizon

Beyond the sea, beyond the one I see now

Painted a new colour

Scented with a new odour

Of sweat and tears

Hard days and hard nights

Proving myself yet again

A new struggle, a new future

A new present

But the past remains the same

The past is me,

The past is who I am

And what defines what I’m meant to be…

past, past…zoom into the future…

When I was 6….Life was much about the others. I went out with my parent’s friends. My grandma took me to the market and she bought me sweets. My grandfather narrated stories to me. Dad told me right from wrong. Mum taught me how to love. They made the decisions for me, they worried for me, they thought for me, and I was a carefree little child. These people surrounded me and I was doing things they were doing, completely unaware of life beyond them. It was my own little world and I was their world. They were a window and the world outside was an alien universe at which I looked through these windows.

When I was 16…It had all changed, the center of the universe was still me but I was dying to do things my own way. And I had just started believing that the things I was doing were the best option and I could never go wrong. I was meeting ‘my’ friends, I was going to the market and buying myself whatever ‘I’ wanted, I was choosing the stories to hear. The alien universe outside seemed tempting and I wanted to explore it at any cost. Even if it meant jumping out of the windows and running in the meadows till you have left the windows far behind. I wanted to make my own decisions, and yet leave the worrying to the ones who loved me. I wanted to be selfish and expected them to make sacrifices for me. I wanted to take on the rights of being an adult and shun the responsibility… I was only thinking about me.

When I am 26… I will be radically different from what I am today. And I will be disappointed if I am not. I will have seen the world and faced a few difficulties. And have learned from them enough. I will be holding the hands that once showed me the way and taught me how to walk, remembering that I must not hurt them. I will be their window, to look at the new world. A world that has changed as their little girl has turned into a woman. I will try my best to keep sorrow away from those eyes that looked at me with pride all the time and I will make them prouder. When I will be 26, I won’t have to think about these things or plan them. They will come to me naturally, and at the right time. There will be no place for regret arising out of late realizations like this one. When will I be 26?

She…

She was walking down to a place, where she was going to be completely alone. She had chosen that path and was warned but now as she walked, she felt the confidence with which she had justified her path melt away and an unknown fear build up… She was unaware of what was to come, who was to come or where she was to go. She decided to follow the path till she could, but she couldn’t resist looking back, at what she was leaving behind. She kept looking until they faded away; it faded away and then she couldn’t see anything. It was a big black void she was looking back at and then she stumbled and fell. She lay there hurt, waiting for them to come and help her, to comfort, to take care of her, but they didn’t come. She lay there until she knew, she was by herself now and she needed to pick herself up from there. She had to comfort herself. She was the only person for her now. She looked back one last time, at the dark void, where her family was or had they gone… At a life which was hers but was it now? She walks until she sees a ray of light. And she sees something new- a new country, new people and above all, a new life. This is her future, and the fear melts away and the confidence builds up yet again. She knows she can do it without them, because they are miles away-emotionally and physically. And then she breathes in…. That is how freedom smelt….

Freedom smelt just like fresh flowers for a butterfly, it smelt like a new patch of grass for sheep and probably they didn’t even realize how sweet it smells-freedom. To her it smelt like how it smells now. She felt like she had had a blocked nose and suddenly a whiff of fresh scented air had come her way. It felt like that whiff reached every cell of her body and made them feel anew. Freedom was the scent of satisfaction. She had never smelt it before, but it was amazing to identify it by its scent. Its scent can’t be felt by anyone but the one who feels free. Free as a bird to explore new skies, free as a bee to find new flowers, free as a dog to find a new place to hide his bones.

But… The chains binding her, were actually her roots. The roots that made her stand tall and strong. They were the roots that made her and they weren’t gone at all. They were with her. Without them she would be body without a soul, a mind without thoughts and a heart without feelings. She had a new life, she was reborn but this time, she is born with her roots, her values and she is a baby adult…Maybe!