Monday, September 7, 2015

To Each Her Own

To each her own,
No less no more
You decide,
With all your life

Family or career
Pillar or support
Flame or the wick
Name or the surname
don't forget
It is never the same

Years later
You would regret
Of what you choose
And what you set loose
Fact remains the very same
Chasing both
Was never the game

Womanhood
Is like the test of time
it forces to pick out
Between heart and mind

You decide
With all your life
No less no more
no penalty no score

Lets leave it like...
To each her own. 


PS: dedicated to all Indian women....

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The F Obsession.

The F thing here does not stand for the four letter word instead it stands for something pretentious but of high repute zing.

Louis Vuitton, Jimmy Choo, Armani, Audi, imported stuff (does not matter even a soap), foreign things, relatives from Dubai,,US Job, euro trip, honeymoon at Bora Bora, an adventure trip to New Zealand and many more. I feel hysterical if this is what defines us. Well either we are very insecure or badly intimidated by our surroundings / situations that we supplement our persona with the above cited histrionic feats.  

I don’t know much about you but for me it is a creepy reality. Most occasions I cover my beautiful heart and humble character with these exhibits and lies. In doing so I get the feeling that I would create an impression which would sway the person next to me towards liking me. The surprising part is that it does make the person next to me like me.  Even when sometimes these fancy things are true, it is never real for me. I wish I could show the real me more often. 

Being related to something foreign raises eye brows equivalent to if you are an IITian or an IAS officer.  (The latter two is worthy of comparison because it is a selection of 1 over 1000 and lacs.) No matter if it’s your third cousin studying in some American university or an aunt who is your mother’s cousin’s sister in law residing in Dubai, there is huge pride in recognizing them as relatives. Similarly it is of immense pride to announce, about things we own like the dress worn by me is not available in India, I got it from Paris or Milan. The value also increases when we reply to people who slighted our attire or footwear as poor choice. But a poor choice is a poor choice whether local or imported with duties. At least defend it in a better way, how come being foreign makes it more agreeable. Well I guess there is no point in digging further. Another notable obsession is inflections. Foreign accent always work over desi one. Finding sense in that is again useless. If you don’t believe me, you have never given job interviews or been part of group discussion or even debated in school.

Huh! After the accent proof talking let us drop by to eat. Recently somebody mentioned that,” I eat healthy and so I prefer Italian, or Mexican". I could not hide my laughter and then thought to throw some light on the delusion. Howeve on second thought I did not embarrass the bloating being. Lesson learnt was that sometimes we should do more homework before we brag. You never know, people may know some stuff.

There is however something about it, no matter if it is designer labels underwear or a lip color by Chanel. The visible waist band of Calvin Klein under a low waist denim definitely rocks over a Rupa frontline. And of course CK is a foreign label. Maybe somewhere we have accepted that anything foreign is about being superior and therefore we are constantly racing among ourselves towards the same. If that is the case then maybe we have become a free country but still a slave of their lopsided thought process which they incorporated to rule over us. It is time that we reflect back on our lack of judgement and show maturity. 

I think this F obsession is something to ponder over for all of us and grow up a little.