For anytime when confused------------The truth is always out in the open noone hides it so if something is being hidden it is falsehood! If I am a part of something that needs to be hidden from the world its false.Never ever hold on to falsehood coz as lame as it may sound Truth always triumphs!

"Sometimes I would like to be proved wrong about things and people."

I remember the time when they used to show Ally McBeal on TV. I wanted to be her. The most fascinating part of the show used to be the unisex bathroom. I work now and my office has one…I mean the unisex bathroom…and it’s not fun at all! :-(!

sOMETHING eLSE

Never looked uglier.dont have to worry about losing it....Atleast I dont feel unfulfilled..hope everyone else turns ugly...

I want to visit Manasarovar before I die..

Something I wish for but not sure if I actually want!

Someone asked Sri Sri Ravi Shanker (yeah wotever) what's your relationship with me.... with all of us? He asked in reply : What's your relationship with yourself? Its the same with me. Ting tong....hit my cranium just above the spine....penetrated through the medulla oblongata to reach the cerebral cortex..Spark spark....information prrrrooooceessiiiinnnnggggg. Now cant let it go!
Whats my relationship with myself...Its not surely of love...reason: In love u forgive. Its not hate: In hatred u wish bad! And I am not my friend for sure coz in friendship u don't struggle to co exist. Whatever it is....sucks big time! I need others to make my relationship with myself sustain..or i would have been dead by now.
Okay I am fascinated by Howard Roark.(still reading the book). From whatever I have read the man has the strongest relationship with himself. Unlike me he doesn't need validation from others: parents, friends, bosses and basically everyone.
If I could be him....

Depth of character is overrated...The shallower I am the happier I feel. :-)

There is a question on my mind. I am very sure what I think is the answer is the truth . I should say its debatable Question:How is being hurt different from self pity? I think in black and white both mean the same.

About Choices!!!

I wonder....
If it were to choose the Ys and not the X, I would have been a young man today,
Then maybe my pop would trust me with his shoulders!
If I were to choose a kid bro over a sis, I would be spineless today,
Then may be I would stoop even lower!
If I were to choose my old friends over the new ones, I would have few good friends,
Then may be I would live my whole life in a matchbox!
When I was offered to choose between happiness and peace, I chose Peace!
Then on the 13th even if it is to choose the lesser evil..I will make a choice for my leader! Atleast for myself if not for the state! Because thats what I do...Choose!

Me, God and Swaps!!!!!!!!!!!!

The most frequently used three words in my life, “I don’t know”. I don’t like to use it anymore. I want to give real answers. So when someone asks me-Do you believe in God? I say “I don’t know” Again the same bullshit. The problem is that I can’t give answers without thinking that’s why “I don’t know”. Ask me questions, I will answer but please give me time. My processor is slow. I guess that’s why I like people who are spontaneous in answering. But only to realize they did not mean what they said.
So do you believe in God? When I was a kid I used to pray to God after having a bath and before going to sleep. It was more like a recital without actually meaning what I say. I continue to do that even today. I go to temples sometimes. The whole concept is confusing. There are things I feel for real. For example when I hate someone I know I hate him and it’s real. When I am nervous about something I know I am nervous and it’s real. When I distrust someone I know it’s real. But I don’t know when I love someone; I don’t know when I trust someone, when I need someone. May be no as an answer seems the right thing to do for all these questions.
It’s so unreal when I say I believe in God! I listen to myself and I am like stop the bullshit. I believe in nature and nature is God! Man made God, religion, rituals coz it makes life easier for him. Someone to blame for when things go wrong. When life is dirty something to believe in coz it’s much more difficult to believe in myself so let me believe in something that probably made me and many others who turned out to be pretty good! To come to see I do believe in God. I talk to myself all day long. If there’s a bit of God in me…Maybe.
Its very sickening when people do poojas and rituals for me, it’s a slap on my face saying;” You are a fuckin loser so we need God to fix things for you.”
Another totally different thought which is eating on my brain cells is Couple swapping. I hear it is very rampant these days, I mean even in India. How does that work. I mean I know men can do any women anytime it doesn’t really have anything to do with emotions- at least that’s what they try to portray about themselves. But how do women do it? I mean isn’t physical intimacy so close to emotional intimacy for women. I cant sleep with someone whom I don’t have feeling for and what I am scared about is that in future no matter reason it is I don’t want to be emotionally disconnected with my body. It’s like being dead.
To think of it is liberating, I can be sexually involved with anyone but my love is only for one man. If the world achieves that kind of psychological level we would all be God!! I am not God!! So do I believe in God?...........I don’t know.

I like myself today!!!!!!!!

My Answer!!!!!!

Nature seems to compete with technology today. A question popped up in my overly analytical mind and I get a reply next day. Kudos Mother Nature!!! Just when I am thinking about men-women and all other self created complicated theories I get my answer. Yesterday I got back from work almost dead and put the Li'l friend on ( My television set of course). I am the average Indian viewer who like anything that is full of hardcore masala. I was switching channels when I came across NGC and they were airing a documentary on the lives of the third sex. I watched it- The story they were showing was of Anand who in India belongs to the "Hijra" community. She as per the locals tradition during one of the festivals gets married to God and then according to the rituals becomes a widow in the coming week( Not very clear why they do that). The celebrations are like a real wedding or funeral, first she is as happy a newly wed bride and then in widowhood she cries in soulful pain. The interesting part here is that all this is a pretend life and nothing is real but Anand looked very happy doing all that. Its the best. After all this she goes drinking with her friends and boyfriend ( God You are so mean wot did I do wrong to not have a boyfriend)
And the narrow minded, small hearted, self pitying me is stuck in the two sexes when the third sex is living out there! To all the third sexes! Love you all!
I am not a sexist can't afford to be one!

Am I a Sexist?

How is the pride of a man different from that of a woman? Is it different? I am tired of telling myself, It's not about gender but about an individual. I feel like a feminist. My pillars in life: My mother and my sister. My want in life to have a girl child. I feel like a sexist. Two pillars remain empty - one that of a father and the other a partner and I never dream of having a baby boy. Is it because they are roles played my men. I feel sick. I like men infact love them, the traits they potray are amazing. Their role in the society is amazing. Thought of being a feminist is scary I rather not be one.

Every aspect of life has been institutionalised. From education to profession to companionship to spirituality to death. A child is born is immediately a part of this. Is it the only way of life or is there a choice? At this stage of life I cant think of being otherwise. To think of it- institutions are a way of bringing order and humans unlike animals like order, patterns and trends in everything. So, this is evolution then why is everyone so claustrophobic or is it just me? Everyday I try to find patterns in people and try to club people into different categories as per their sex, age , education,activities but there are always exceptions which kills the pattern. Unlike the theories we learn in school I dont like exceptions because then the theory doesnt hold true. The exception may happen to anyone and what if its me. Everyone and everything is so different- how can these insitutions suffice for all of them.

Oru Chambaneer...

India is famous for Bollywood but there are number of regional film societies which contribute to the cinema world of the country. Malayalam film society is one such place. There are movies of all genres from commercial to art. Most of these even go for international film festivals. Some of them have amazing stories. One such story is Sthithi (Plight) which was released in 2002. I haven’t seen the movie but there is a song in the movie which is super. The movie is about an average middle class family in Thiruvananthapuram who face crisis in difficult political times. The family has a man, wife with two kids. Like most middle class household lost in the daily struggle forget about each other as humans. The song is beautiful and I want to translate how much ever I can. Forgive me if I err. The song is what the man thinks for his wife when she busy washing dishes, cooking, taking care of kids, getting them ready for school, getting him ready for work and then herself. Coming back from work and continuing with the rut thereon. Here it goes:
“A scarlet red rose with me I have always nurtured,
But not even once in all these years did I even offer it to you,
But some how you always knew the rose has blossomed just for you,
Spreading its sweetness around just for you,
How do you do this Lady,…please tell me.”

“Love…not an iota of sweetness did I offer you,
Not even in a word.
In those dark blue lonely moonlights,
I did not wipe the tears you hold back in your lashes.
But some how you always knew I get wet only for you,
And the moist in me recognizes only your wet.”

“Never did I hum the Shree ragam into your ears,
The clear penetrating shree ragam.
In the break of dawn with the mist blurring everything,
I did not caress your gentle body,
But somehow you always knew my heart beats in tandem with yours,
And my heart is yours always.”

I wrote and now when I read it, its a classic case of lost in translation. The original is much more beautiful.

I got a review on my post "Number 1, Number 2" from a very good friend of mine. I know him so I know he is too lazy to comment on it. He says, " When you are spectator you dont move ahead in life. When something happens you either act or react not just sit around and be a spectator. And if you are one you surely are a loser." My thoughts on it, " Point taken sir.. I dont want to be one anymore. Captain Rashmi taking charge." :-)

" I dont understand directions, I dont remember all these numbers and passwords, I cry for almost everything, almost everyday, But I dont care. And ya I still believe in the Fairytale Love.I am a woman and was meant to be this way." :-)

Michael Passion Jackson

Number 1 and Number 2

Thursday night I was watching the CNN IBN where they were talking about the India Pakistan talks. I agree with the argument that how is it possible to have an ambiguous statement like that- treat composite dialogues and action on terror as two mutually exclusive events. Even a commoner like me understands it’s the lamest statement ever. They say the argumentative Indian I say the ambiguous Indian. So when you can’t deal with the situation make a statement that can be twisted as per your need in future. We need a leader not escapist. I slept over with the thought.

Friday morning I was standing in the 9.30 local lined up towards the Dadar side, the thought still in my mind. I was looking down at my feet, God they need care. I turned to my right I saw a girl in blue salwar kameez with a black mangalsutra around her neck. I have seen that face and the sorrow reflecting through it before. I know her. She was my classmate in my first year of graduation. I guess hung around with for a couple of days. Let’s refer to her as No.1. She was a pleasant person but I wasn’t. I was in the “what a loser could not become a doctor phase with a grudge against everyone.” Obviously she was bored and moved to more fun people. Then we did not interact since we chose different specializations, until the October of 2003. That was the year when our college took us on an industrial visit to Kanha national Park, a must visit place- total adventure. She was in the trip too with her new found love, Amit. I knew the guy he was a lab partner very funny (typical bhaiyya dialogues.Omkara types). He has a story…
He loved a girl in their gang but the girl was seeing someone else, so the high on hormones he turned to the girl No.1 to calm him down.

Now I and my girls shared a room with gal No.1 at the visit. Every night she would sneak to the guy’s room, Amit. Next day the guys in their room would give us dope. That’s when I was shocked. He would abuse her verbally I don’t know whether physically also. He would ask her to take her clothes off like literally,”Chal abhi shirt utar, jeans bhi main hi utaru kya, randi? Etc, etc” She would do everything he asked her. Then through out the trip we saw her being insulted, verbally abused – most of which I did not even understand. She faked happiness when she was in the room with us. But her face was sorrowful….. Always not even an ounce of genuine happiness. He wasn’t the same to others; he was nice to all of us. But with her he would be the worst man on earth. All through the college years she sustained the relationship but I don’t know for what. I guess that’s love. But quite stupid indeed!!! Today she is married; wonder whether to him or someone else. I want to see her again sometime in future with a happy face. Amen.
From no where I thought of Gal No.2 from my B School. She was so beautiful every guy I met wanted her. She was rich, fun, smart … I mean like a fantasy, like a dream come true & to add to that she had found her perfect match. But something was missing; I would not feel the “REAL” in her.
My heart is jittery with these two gals. Why so much disparity one so real but sad and another so pretentious but happy. I don’t want to be in this world with inequality of such enormous levels.

Where do I fit in this scheme of things, neither am I gal no. 1 nor 2. I feel like I am in the background of my own story,
When I am with my friend, it’s my friend’s story,
When I am with a guy, it’s the guy’s story,
When I am with my sister, it’s her story,
When I am with my mom, it’s her story,
When I am with my dad, it’s his story,
When I am at work, it’s the office’s story….
It’s too late to be the main lead now. After some thought it dawned on me, my role is that of a spectator. Yes I am the spectator. No don’t underestimate it. It’s good to be The Spectator. That’s what I am!! But now help me to find it's application?

All but None...

"If I just had a mind, I would be rich;
If I just had a heart, I would be at peace;
If I just had my gut, I would never be deceived;
The Bastard, who made me gave me all three..Neither rich, nor Happy and Always Stupid"

That rainy day........

I was walking on the Poly chem road to the station, almost drenched and dreadfully was wearing not so much of a rain friendly color, especially for a local mode of transport. When no ones on the road I enjoy my walks. I saw a guy standing about 30 feet away from me. He was about 6 feet tall without an umbrella, and ya he was drenched too. He was one of those construction workers who have amazing bodies and walk around shirtless in low rise worn out pants. And when at work have cement and mud all over their body…………..A big screen version would be Arjun Rampal (in the famous Jaanleva song). All men fashions have evolved from these men and cowboys. Ladies worth all your drools. They are rare but you do find them at all new building construction sites, they usually have an “I hate you” look on their face.
I was kinda checking him out when my eyes halted at his groin. Oh my Gawd…..his thing was out but he wasn’t peeing and it was ….ahem ahem. Shee shee Rashmi get some shame stop looking at him like that. But he was the only one on the road. O god now he was just 15 feet away, wot do I do … I don’t want to be molested today. There’s no one else on the road…if he comes towards me I will hit him with my umbrella and run away. Or if I get cold feet, I will try shouting out loud. But there’s no one around God pls pls send me my hero. Damn y am I so hot, men just can’t keep it down. hehheh (All gals say this at least once to themselves in a day. It makes us feel so good inside.)
Just ten feet away my heart is pumping like a first kiss syndrome with less of excitement and more of fright. Rashmi just block your mind, look down and walk past him as fast as possible. When was just 5 feet away I looked at him. It’s just that impulse when you stop yourself from doing something and end up doing the same thing. Aaah he was one of those who keep a straight face and molest the girl and go away and the girl is still thinking did it happen or am I dreaming? And by the time she is sure he is already unreachable. I hate that kind not that I have any liking for the others. At this point I am reminded of a friend who told me once that she read in a book (I think its Fountain Head) not so sure, that a girl who was being raped starts enjoying it in the process. Sounds sick but I relate to it and to her.
This puts me in another frame of mind, when I sometimes fantasize sex with God not a physical form but something unexplainable. I feel if my sexuality is the best that I can offer to anyone then shouldn't’t it be the best thing to offer to God. I think I need therapy, anyway coming back to the guy on Poly chem road I looked down at his crotch.
What the Fuck…the guy was just holding his umbrella against his hip and standing sideways with a skin colored handle -which from my side made it seem like his penis. I think I should start wearing spectacles and some make up from tomorrow.

"I love little girls in pretty dresses, I am not a pervert. They are little drops of joy from heaven on earth.

I love men who love women, I am not a sexist. They are men who know how to live."

I think I am a superwoman and can handle everything by myself …At the end of the day flat on my face….aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh

"Some one showed me the mirror yesterday, And its scary what i saw!"

A day in a life...

Me to U: Hi how are you today? You look good today. How do I look? U know wot I did not put make up. This is all natural. Aint I pretty? Gosh I am so tired, dont feel like working? The heat is killer. Hey do that dance move you showed me yesterday, it was supercute! I will try it when i go out sometime. It will surely be a hit. Do it na....Ok fine I wont force u..its not that cute anyway..Wot are you working on..Do u need help? I can help u! Y arent u talking to me?

U to Me: Please donot talk to me. I am allergic to dumbness.hahahhahahahhahahaha

"I wonder how it feels to be a man. But then I dont know how it feels to be another woman or animal or bird or object. How would I ever know?"

Man, Shadow……

Man:
What are you,a friend or a foe? Following me from the break of dawn. I don’t need a spy. Are you God or God’s spy to keep a check of my wrongs and rights? Coz if you are, you need not follow, I am honest and I know all my sins. I won’t hesitate to tell God, when I am no more. Hiding rarely gives me solace.
Ah...You try to take my shape rarely even close to what I am. Sometimes shorter, sometimes longer and bloody hell you look funny.
I don’t remember even one incident when you have been helpful. Get some self respect and go away. And if you really care enough where the fuck do you disappear when it’s dark and eerie. Tell me why you exist. Justify it, coz that’s how it works on earth.

Shadow:
Don’t shoo me away, I was born when you were born. You disparage me coz I have no flesh and blood.
I will try; I will try, to justify my existence. I enjoy the way you live your life, heart filled with all the emotions I cant even imagine. I am witness to your life.
You are my only source and you always look down on me, even when there is a slightest hint of light. So I wait for the dark...wait n wait n wait. And finally when it arrives, I see you change from life to dull seeking calmness and meaning in the day that you left behind. You look so lost, so much in panic.
And that’s when I slowly crawl inside you; fill the void in the four chambers. It’s warm there …. You are my mother.
Call me your soul, conscience, god, ego, id, anything. But I don’t want the sun to rise again.

"If you are a woman and single get your eye-test done asap."

"Talli ho gayi"

I am trying to write more cheerful stuff on my blog, “Insha'Allah” let today be the first attempt. What could be more cheerful than alcohol? I always knew I love alcohol even before I had it for the first time. I am not a connoisseur but I enjoy it. Maybe there is an underlying psychological reasoning to it too. My father (Achan) is a strict man never tasted it (not even once) and a simple man. There is nothing lavish about him and nothing expressive either.
When I was little I have heard how my grandfather (father’s father) lived life king-size, expressed love, and expressed life. Everyone loved him for the little time he spent with the family other times he would be away for work. Achan on the other hand being the eldest son was thrust with the responsibility of the entire family when grandpa wasn’t around. He grew up before his age; he never had his well- deserved childhood.
All men in the family drank at some time or the other, but achan did not. All men in the family showed how much they love life but achan did not. I saw a lot of achan in me. But I did not want to be a miser in enjoying life. Even as a kid I would dream of being high, singing and dancing. I vividly remember as a kid I would always roll up paper to make it look like beedi and sit like a village simpleton smoking. Amma would yell at me. But I would not budge. Amma said,” Given an opportunity you would surely drink and smoke.” I believed in what she said.
While growing up I would walk like I am drunk or lost, and people would call me “bevdi”. I would act angry but quite liked the title :-) . Then finally in college I smoked for the first time. Some seniors gave me the unique opportunity. The first time smoking was a big story itself (Maybe some other time). Then came drinking, first time I did not feel anything different except for being warm inside. (Just like wine which I had tasted before, only this time the drink was vodka). I did not know the alcoholic jargon still don’t know, I had vodka….neat.
I remember singing that day, there wasn’t any space otherwise I would have danced too. Then I stuck to vodka for a long time about two years. After that, some friends used to call me gutter cause it would drink anything offered no preferences but as I said not a connoisseur (also no monies).
Now have graduated to whisky, it’s easy on my stomach. I don’t drink coz I am depressed or happy or angry or ugly or beautiful or sick or healthy. I don’t need a reason. Alcohol need not be justified by any other reason; it in itself is grand and eventful.

"I live with a ticking time bomb under my seat, the wait is much more excruciating than the blast"

" I feel like a eunuch stuck in the ladies compartment of the Mumbai local train, I am confused if I am at the right place so are the people around me."

Sometimes I have so much to write but laziness has become an inherent part of me. Mothers are the best thing god had ever created. As the saying goes “God made a mother on earth just in case he can’t be there for each”. …….. I want to complete this post but words just don’t seem to do justice…I can never express what I feel for you amma. Sorry for every wrong I have done to you at each stage of life.

"Send me a postcard...From everywhere."

I dont want your fuckin sympathy.........................

When people say " You are a smart girl". I am not very sure to be happy. Coz smartness brings lot of unhappiness...

Flashback

Today morning as usual was running across the over bridge at Goregoan station to get into the 9 am local train. While running, got a glimpse of this man and woman walking hand in hand. When it’s just twenty seconds for the train to leave I usually run like a bullet towards the train. In split seconds I bumped into the couple.
I dashed the lady and both of us jolted back. I now sense “stares” at me from all directions. The lady was blind with a stick in her hand and the man holding her tight.
I could see all the people around judging me; I sunk into the ground beneath me and FLASHBACK.
9th standard, all students scoring more than 75% were taken to St. Xavier’s School in town for a science exhibition. I was very excited; Lorraine and one another teacher accompanied us to the exhibition. It was also my first Mumbai local train journey without family.
I got up early excited put on my uniform and reached school. Everything, from the train vendors, to the people travelling and the fighting women in the train seemed exciting to me.
We reached Churchgate station and were walking towards the school. When suddenly I hit an old man and his stick fell down. He was too old to pick up the walking stick. I was standing there watching him struggling to pick up the stick but I just walked away.
I saw my friends helping him out. All of them and the teachers gave me the worst look ever. I can never forget that.
I feel so lost sometimes- I don’t know why I did not help that man. I did not have fun at the exhibition that day.
Today I was reminded of that day….

Real thing....is it?

All these years there have been many incidents when a normal person would feel a strong emotion in that particular situation and respond. But since I won’t feel that emotion, not only do I act the emotion that would be appropriate and sometimes even react. One significant incident was during my graduation years. My aunt (mother’s elder sister) was terminally ill which was severe case of liver cirrhosis and the house was grim. Mom would be sad whole day and dad was the usual. My sister would be sad too, I don’t know how much of it was because my aunt was ill but definitely coz mom was so upset.

I would never feel the sadness in fact when I used to pray for my aunt well being I did not really feel it. I did it because it was the right thing to do. I often tell my sister and some friends that I am not a good human being and they laugh it off thinking that I am just trying to draw their attention. But when I say it I really mean it sometimes especially when I see my mom and my sister. They are both so strong to have the courage to feel for others. Miraculously my aunt is safe and sound now. Indeed it is a miracle!!!

It not that I am emotionally cold, when people are mean or rude to me I feel very upset....very upset and no matter how much ever I try to get over it, I can’t. So I realized I feel strongly only for myself (It’s not so good to be self consumed). As time passed by I devised a really cool method to have some compassion for others. Every bad situation others are in I imagine me to be them. I make myself so much a part of the sufferers feeling that I started to feel the way that they did. Now in this case though the way I do it is wrong but the emotion is strong and true (unlike earlier where it was pure faking). Being true makes me feel very light hearted.

However being happy is something that needs zero efforts, I can be happy for anyone anytime. No brain work goes into that and no faking for sure. Happy happiness!!!!

"Everything is possible, if you can't do it then find the cheat code...Everything is imperfect"

Boy: " I luv u"

Girl: " I luv u 2" (Do I?)

Hot gal enters the room....Boy drools over d hot one.

Boy: " I luv u"(Do I?)

Girl: :-(...( I soo luv him)

No sorry there is something about some men which is irresistible

Theres something about married men....

As time is passing by, the demarcation between black and white is blurring....i see more of grey everywhere ....