Whose cup of T?

Call me whatever, but the fashion industry lures me. I love those strappy heels, designer bags, laces and layers and mind you- even polka dots. I am a person who sees life in pink as far as the fashion is alive. I don’t see the point when people complain so much about fashion, modeling or even skimpy clothes for that matter, I never did!
But here I go, for the first time to say this- It is a little difficult but inevitable for me to say that the fashion fraternity is now playing along with the other major billion dollar industry- PORN. I am not talking about leather bras or thongs but it is something out in the open, something more obvious and totally wannabe.
The other day, I saw a girl in Forum, wearing a T-shirt that read, “sex instructor- first lesson free!” well, I have seen similar captions before- “porn horn” or “pop my cherry” and I can say for sure that ‘fashion’ has gone for an overdrive. It is nice to read some good captions on tees but this is something else. The first thing that hit my mind was, was she trying to tell people that she was good in bed? Or that she was nasty? Or wanted to be the sex symbol around? Or just loves Rakhi Sawant and the fame that goes with it? (I remember, Rakhi Sawant too gave an interview wearing a t-shirt that said “temptress”). There are a lot of teenagers who truly, madly, deeply believe that it is trendy to announce their potential on bed (whether they are even close to it is the flipside!!!). One would find it easy to have a handle on all of this crap after two years in Jain College. Even if they did try to be bold by flaunting such captions, I wish they realized that not a single porn star would be wearing such t-shirts!
Giving it a second thought, I think such fashion is male oriented fashion. Why does one wear such clothes bearing captions that crave for immediate male approval or acceptance? One unconsciously depends on the recognition of the male. I am sure most of the girls who wear such ‘bold’ captions might not even be half as sexy, and could by and large be virgins- forget about the sex instructor! Why do people go out of their way trying silly and bizarre things in public just to get noticed and blatantly express their sexuality? This inturn, provides the porn industry with a dexterous respectability. Ask me and I would rather respect the pornstars. I would wear some t-shirt that says something about mr or has some humorous saying rather than say “hi! Thump me!” And to think of the fact that people in a huge mall glare at someone who is wearing a company t-shirts (like Infosys or Wipro) because it seems like he has nothing else to wear is absolutely crazy.
I wish I could ignore this by calling it a cheap sales gimmick by a few small shops and wannabe local haute couture’s in the narrow bargain streets of the city but it is way beyond that. It is bigger than that, many such T-shirts not only have a nasty slogan but they also have a label. There was a t-shirt in the famous teen brand Wrangler that read “treasure CHEST- Dig in!” and other brands like Spyker that had captions like “free tonight!” or “I am not perfect but bits of me is beauty.”
I know people have the right to wear what they want, and they should indeed. It is overstated and understood that choices differ and the fashion industry should cater to it all. It is hard for you or me to deny this statement because it involves lump sum money from their kitty and we are no more talking about the niche, ignorable sector who are amused by these poignant and low slogans but we talk now, of the growing fashionistas. It is a section of people who are only growing by the minute and go unnoticed simply because they are everywhere. We can’t do much about it; the fashion gurus and brands cannot do anything about it. Or can we?

Well, I can go on and on about this but you get the point!

It has been a short while now since i started learning french. In each class we write a short essay or a poem for about five lines in whatever broken language we know using the little vocabulary we have learnt. I think i should call it my 'first poems' instead of 'first french poems because i think it is my first ever concrete poem i have written apart from the kiddish- 'i have a fish, that lives in a dish' or 'untie my hair, do it with care...'

Okay, incase your good at french you better ignore the errors especially the axions that have just disappeared from many alphabets. Our teacher does he same. She treats us like small kids- whatever errors we commit, she patiently corrects them all and we would probably have a million red marks on the page but still she would generously write a 'tres bein', 'superbe' or 'excellente' at the end (awwwww!!).

So here goes...

Toutes les personnes je connais
Mes chiens- le que j’aime.
La cuisine que je mange
L’aire que je sent.
Les moments de joie
Les moments de tristesse.
Fait ma vie une belle place.


All the people i know
My dogs that i love
The food i eat
The air i breathe
The moments of joy
The moments of sorrow
Make my life a beautiful place.

Le soleil se levers
Le soleil se coucher
Mais ici, rien des changers!
Les nations toujours combattre,
Les personnes toujours pleurer.

Which means :
The sun comes up
The sun goes down.
But here, nothing changes.
Nations still fight,
People still fight.

Well, i know the second one is very pessimistic, very meloncholic and very unlike me. this is how it worked- the teacher asked us to write a poem using any of these topics as a theme- sun, moon, stars or night. i could only think of this. hmmm...weird but i wonder why i wrote this also. But I am happy about it. ;-)

The theme for the first one was however any word we learnt in the days class. We had learnt 'life' and 'beautiful'. And then after some thinking(which i do not do normally) and translation of randm words (that i thought would rhyme) ..... the poem evolved!! funny so I had added a 'hehe' at the end of the first poem, and the teacher scratched it out. really, what is wrong with people not being able to appreciate a 4 letter word which is cute for a change!

[here goes- hehe ;-) ]

FEMALE, age- 18

I know one thing for sure- the world around me is just getting fake and pure plastic. It is getting worse.
I have been brought up exclusive of the annoying stereotypical tag of a ‘girl child’. I haven’t been told to play only kitchen-set and not cricket. I haven’t been asked to wear only frocks and ribbons tied to my long, oiled and braided hair. Nope! It was just not I. I was a father’s daughter. There were times when I have seen and felt awful for a few girls in school who we call ‘suppressed’. I was happy about myself and I was content being myself.
Guess things are changing. Oh yes, they are! It’s been quite some time now since I started fighting and revolting against the intolerable pressure from all sides to groom myself for…err…the unknown Mr. Someone, who might be my husband in future (note-in a typical arranged Brahmin style wedding). I feel like I have been brought up with all the 24 carat love just to get married and delight someone else like sheep and hen are brought up just to make good tasty meat. (My stance on animal activism is a different thing I wouldn’t like to start off now!). My parents seem to be a little too worried about my marriage or my future, which is according to them marriage again. I believe I have the money, strength and determination to live alone but I would NOT marry someone who wants me to be his dream girl even if it means me walking upside down. Infact, I haven’t even thought about marriage in so much detail as my parents have. Parents are parents no matter what but I just wonder if they have to be that way.
I have been asked time and again to talk a lot lesser and talk softly. Well, I am nothing without my voice; I know I talk a lot and talk nonsense mostly but I would rather marry a deaf guy. The next, is a kind and sincere request from ‘all those who care’ to try and stop wearing long earrings!! I cannot do that; I would be a whole different person without them- a loser! Me living without earrings would be like doing Bhangra without being able to shake your shoulders(ahem!).
I wish it were my parents who could actually see the bruised and saturnine facet of myself that I hide from people everyday. I wish they could see through the smiles and laughs to understand what troubles me most and help me get over a few episodes of my past. I wish I could express myself to them. I am not apprehensive about marriage or the like but about myself. I just want them to let me be myself and not live the role of the filmy Brahmin parents.
I guess at sometime or the other, girls are always suppressed, atleast tried to. For instance, even the dress code in our college confines us to the narrow realm of the salwars and dupattas. Its not that I object to the dresscode, its just that I strongly belief that it is a different way of forcing onto a girl the entire girl child tag.
To me, the whole pressure of being a typical ‘Indian Brahmin girl’ has caused no change in me. I have been resisting, I have tried to be myself and in this bid, I think I have become inconsiderate and selfish. I don’t want to be that either but maybe that is what all ‘cultured Indian Brahmin girls’ who can think for themselves do or are required to do if not for themselves, to help sustain the whole feminism whatever we all talk about!

MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY EVERYTHING…

It was less than three years ago, we got this little puppy. He was happy for no reason, he chewed on everything he saw around him and looked like a ball of golden fur with two huge black eyes. He was so cute and huggable I would not have been surprised if I hugged him too tight and killed him. To him, sleeping and eating was bliss and it took him no time to get used to our house. We had another dog- Betsi, guess she helped him feel comfy around the place and shared food with him. The very first day, we had a naming ceremony in gathering. We knew he would grow up to be gigantic and heavy. My mom suggested we name him Caesar or Shadow. Somehow at that moment I looked at him merrily cuddled on my lap and thought those names were just not for him. She then suggested Whisky, to that my dad said “hmmm…what about Vicky?” Vicky! That’s it, I loved the name- it was short, cute and cheerful. So then, Vicky became the name of the little bundle of joy.

The first night, I put him in a small box and placed it beside my bed. I assumed he would be cozy and would just doze off. Yes, it did happen, he was cozy and slept well for …err…ten minutes. Then, started his squealing and barking (he sounded like a young crow trying to caw). I then put him beside me on my bed and he slumbered away quietly. Pups don’t sleep for long- definitely not all night. He kept waking me up by biting my hair or just biting my fingers. What was really unbelievable was that the little boy actually snored. He was so cute, I huffily felt like yelling at him when he used to wet my bed but his innocent puppy looks just shut me up.
GREAT! I thought. I am going to be sharing a single cot with a HUGE dog that would probably weigh 35 kgs.
Now, that was the night, what did he do all day? Well, he sat in the kitchen and that’s it. He simply loved the smell of food, he ate all day.

1 year later…
He was huge; he weighed 40 kgs and was taller than the average height of the breed. I managed to buy a double cot for the two of us. We slept together- at that, he managed to occupy an excessive amount of space. Yes, he still snored.
Labradors, I knew were used as ‘sniffer dogs’ by the police and are also called retrievers because they could retrieve people stuck in snow or in water. They are called GUN DOGS. Hmmm…I wonder why. Vicky seemed to be everything that a lab would not be- he was extremely silent- he never barked, he was scared of almost everything around him- other dogs, cows, horses, crows, flies, plastic covers, my music system, hair-dryers…just about everything.
He was a watchdog- a very proficient one at that. I knew someone had come to our house when I saw him standing at the gate and waging his tail. He liked strangers. I knew there was a dog or a cow outside the gate when I saw him skedaddle into the house and hide behind me.
He loved me infact he worshipped me; he was at ease only when I was in the house. He followed me wherever I went. He ate everything I ate. Thanks to it that he now likes cheese, chocolates, iced tea, cookies and looovvveess cakes. He would stand at the gate every morning when I left to college as though he was going to shed tears. I loved home, I loved coming back home. I love the way Vicky waits for me everyday and welcomes me home. He jumped on me (I have fallen down sometimes), the happiness in him is clearly communicated with the things he did when he saw me- barked, jumped around, broke pots in the garden and follow me for the rest of the day.

TODAY…
He still snores; I am so used to it that I just cannot sleep without the sound. He still eats a lot but he eats his food only if I am around. He still hasn’t barked at anyone, he hasn’t harmed a fly, I have never seen him angry, I have never heard him growl.
I wonder if this is what is called blessing in disguise, he is the most understanding friend I ever had, have and will ever have. He can sense my sorrow, I play with him when I am sad…I fool around with him always but if I am unwell or just heartbroken he lets me have his toys and deliberately loses. And if I am crying- he somehow senses it from wherever he is and comes running to me and licks my face and my neck. It tickles me and most often I start laughing.
Every time, before the day of my exam results, he falls ill. He recovers as soon as my results are out. My fear and my feelings seem to be reciprocated by his actions.

They say that a year old dog is like a seven year old kid. Guess Vicky must be around 18 years now. I put out my fury on him, I have indignantly yelled at him many times, I have beaten him, I have scared the sh** out of him by doing sadistic things. Yet, he has never considered running away from home, leaving me and finding another owner who was prettier and kinder. No matter what I do to him, he religiously follows me and does anything to keep me happy. Maybe he is uxorious but I love the way he is.

I trouble him a lot, I dress him up, I decorate his paws with mehendi and he just seems to enjoy it all. What is startling is that when someone else dresses him up, he hates it and pulls it off. He doesn’t like traditional food like sambar and rasam but when I cook, he sits beside the kitchen counter and demands for whatever I’m cooking and eats it. I hate myself for who I am, I hate myself for being human, bet no one could be as loving and caring as he is.
He smells like a baby- partly diaper, partly Johnson baby and partly Horlicks. I cannot bring myself to stay anywhere without that mushy smell. The place where I stay feels like home only when I see bits of dog-hair flying in the air and tickling my nose. I don’t feel like eating if he is not sitting and salivating in front of me. I don’t feel like I had bath if he doesn’t lick water off my leg when I walk out of the bathroom. I cannot study if I don’t see him sitting at the foot of my table utterly bored and wondering how to get me to play.
He loves playing the fool with my things, he pulls my pillow from under my head and wakes me up, he runs away carrying my clothes when I am having bath, he doesn’t let me drink milk- he keeps asking for it, he doesn’t let me bend down and wear my shoes as he licks my ears, he manages to wet his paw and imprint my clothes with it right when I am at the gate ready to leave to college. It would appear to you as though he is a brat and desperately needs a trainer. But, I surely know that it is just his way of seeking my attention and saying “don’t go” when I’m about to say “good-bye”.

Maybe he is my best friend, maybe this is friendship.
Actually, its more- its true love.
Yes, true and unconditional love. Love you vicksy…

There are no heights to all the things humans have misused and criticized. The human race seems to have made a puppet out of everything available to them- from cell phones to voting rights. Needless to say, we seem to know about it all. But somewhere in the wake of our ignorance the misuse of the religious veil seems to have gone unnoticed by all. Yes, I am talking about the misuse of burqa. Bet you must be wondering by now as to what is all this fuss about. Well, let me tell you…
Upto a time in life, I always acknowledged a woman swathed in a burqa to be religious, respectable and honorable. But I just have to clench my teeth and ask “what’s with the men and burqa anyway?” we often see men shielding themselves from a dangerous situation (namely- girlfriends father!). It happens in almost every other movie that the actor actually resorts to wearing a burqa to walk into his girlfriend’s house or even worse- to simply occupy the ladies seat in a bus. It seems funny when we see it on the screen but honestly, it’s being overdone now. I bet we can find humor in more sensible movies…or the other way round. Moreover, like all the actions and gestures adopted and tried by the maniac audience, this hypocritical use of the burqa also seems to be conveniently espoused by many wannabe men out there. There have been a number of instances where men hide their identity when they have to shoplift or mingle among girls and rob them. It recently happened in Ontario, where two men clad in burqas robbed a jewellery shop. It even comes in handy for teenage couples to run away from home or simply for them to date and not be seen. Ironically, sometimes celebrities take off to be in public by wearing a burqa- yes I am talking about Michael Jackson who was seen shopping in a burqa to avoid media-hounds.
Thanks to senseless men like them that now, we have to stay on the look-out and wonder if those eyes peering out of the burqa are actually that of a woman or not, whether those hands are that of a lady or a chain-snatcher. Not that I am suspecting everyone to be bad, not that I am accusing the religion to have lost its identity. It’s just that I want to raise a middle finger at all those vexing men because of whom many cities and countries are now considering a burqa ban. France and Netherlands however are the first to be talking about even banning the hijab. Coming back to our own “multicultural” nation, recently, the jewelers in Pune set out to ban costumers from entering the shop with burqas fearing thieves. The decision was ruled out for sure but the suspicion doesn’t end there. More than the law or the rule, it is the dignity and ethnicity of many innocent Muslim that is questioned. And at the end, for heavens sake! A ban on burqas is not going to stop any theft or couples running away from home. It is just that people these days care a damn about culture and society. We fail to see the importance of someone else’s belief and fail to comprehend customs. We ask for more trouble by insulting fellow humans. We live in the world like we are in a nuptial relationship- it would only work if we give each other some space and just that.

TAGGED ATLAST!

DISCLAIMER: This is the first tag I have accepted and I have tried and been honest, sponteneous and ofcourse I did try to type the whole words and not shorten it. If you find errors and wish to correct them...go away! I dont like you.
The answers are not subject to change (unfortunately) and do not be surprized if i wish to change the content very soon.
The post is very unlike my blog and other posts...but the change was unintentional.
oh! and enjoy reading it.

I am thinking about…

Well, I am talking about...oh! it says thinking about (argh!) not really thinking a bout anything ..hmmm or I am thinking about talking or im just talking and not thinking!! (its a waste of time..!!)

I said...

AMRICAN SWEEEEET CORN!!

I am…

A non-vegetarian animal activist (now, dont argue about its precision!)
Ashamed of being human at times.
A shopoholic and a chocoholic!

I want to…

VOTE! Im 18 and I need an election card.

I make with my hands…

Cup Noodles- dats mera haath se bana hua khana...

I wish…

I wish my wishes come true... dats all!

I cry…

Not as often as I laugh tho...oh n definitely not as often as i talk!

I hear…

My dog barking, and himmesh reshammiya songs playing out there somewhere..(somebody pllzz stop him from singing!!).

I wonder…

Why I do 3 things in excess everytime- shop, laugh and TALK!!

I regret…

Not buying two bags at a time...the last time i shopped BECAUSE MY FRIEND CALLED IT EXTRAVAGENCE (hmph!).

I confuse…

My Hindi teacher...whether he has to give me attendance or himself!! ;-)

I dance…

A LOT! To practically any song...

I sing…

Everywhere...in my bathroom, classroom n even in my sleep...

I am not always...

Biting my nails!! (mayb bcoz i cant-once i bite them i gotta wait for them to grow!!

I write…

With a lot of errors n short forms...sometimes even MS WORD gives up on correcting me!!

I need…

A lotion...my skins a little to DRY and I am a little to witty (bad one!) but thats what i need- a lotion, preferably cocoa butter!!

And I need to sleep…cya!!

ALL ABOUT ME...

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