An Emotion Called Woman

“Being a woman is a terribly difficult task, since it consists principally in dealing with men.” ― Joseph Conrad

So said the great philosophers who foresaw what women have in store for themselves for being one. Gender bias was never passe in our country, it's still very much 'in' in every nook and corner of this nation. Why? What lead to the brutal, heinous and horrific crime of a young, aspiring lady who was out with her male companion? All those claiming that she took a wrong bus on that fatal night, had she dreamt of such barbaric act awaiting her?

All said and done, yes, India as a democratic country should bring in change, but to me, that is secondary. The minds and thoughts of an individual should change first, especially those of men. When psychopaths can't think of women beyond sexual gain, why blame the country and it's innocent people?

Rape is just not about mere sexual desire, it is an act of violence, harassment, and sheer domination that the psychopaths try to prove upon the women. This is nothing short of murder! This is what happened with Nirbhaya. And what about the scores of women who undergo rape, molestation, assault, harassment, eve-teasing day in day out that go unnoticed, unattended. Even after this was public and an outraged nation in chorus joined the protests, I read at least a dozen rape cases being reported. Disgusting! Physical state can still be restored but what about the mental trauma that lingers for life? Stringent to stringent rape laws have to be amended and revised which makes every lunatic man shudder even at the thought of touching a woman! India, by and large, has to change this big time.

Ironic that the law makers are becoming the law breakers. Reports already making the rounds that it was more of a political move than a medical one to shift her to Singapore in the most critical state. Government will continue to be in denial about it though we know the bitter truth. So called 'leaders' of this country, stop getting brownie points by calling her a brave heart, she didn't die fighting for the country, she was trying to get back home after a movie. All the politicians have to hang their heads in shame for this untoward incident and indirectly us for voting them.

Why should only a Nirbhaya, or a Pratibha change or awaken this country? We are solely responsible to bring in the change too. But alas, this country will change or hope to change only after an example like this is set up. Even if the perpetrators are brought to book, can they get back a bright, innocent life lost?

"Save me, I want to live" ; "Mom, have our relatives came to know what's happened with me?" : These were the only thoughts the young lady had, hoping against hope, she battled to survive in the intensive care unit, to be hale and healthy one day and get back to work. Prayers and strength to the bereaved family to sustain this loss. Dear unnamed Indian, I do not know your name, but all I know is you are an inspiration, a fighter whom we lost. You have moved onto a better world and in the safe hands of God. Easier said than done, Rest In Peace!

A woman lived in pain, lives in pain and continues to live in pain, unless a miracle saves this country. No place for apathy, STAND UP for your own security first!

P.S :

1. I am not generalizing men here in my post, so have used the term 'psychopaths' for some section of men/rapists/molesters.

2. I don't want any due credits for my blog, my post, this is the least I can or could have done for the parted soul.

English Vinglish: A Must Watch

English language is regarded to be known as 'Universal' language but the bitter truth is many are still alien to this lingo. Lack of exposure? Well, there are more than just one reason to this. But not knowing isn't sinful right. If language could decide respect, bondage, relationships, identity of a soul, we are in for surprises.

With the hoopla around her much-awaited comeback and high expectations riding on the evergreen diva, Sridevi, who is back with English Vinglish after a long hiatus and how! Shashi Godbele, a middle-aged Maharastrian homemaker who has a small but successful catering business, a proficient cook who loves to feed her folks with any kind of food, more or so with her sumptuous ladoos, a dedicated wife/mother who is taken-for-granted and often ridiculed for her poor linguistic skills by her English speaking family. Yet she smiles, takes all the insult gracefully and is on the move to accomplish her family needs.

So an underestimated and belittled Shashi flies to New York to lend a helping hand at her niece's wedding. Braves to manage herself at the immigration counter, thanks to the cameo and short but sweet guidance offered by Amitabh Bachchan, she finally lands in a country where surviving alone minus the English lingo is indeed a challenge. One bad incident in a cafe and it shakes her senses up and gets this undying urge to learn the language, come what may. She enrolls herself for a crash course, manages to travel across the city, remains a committed student who hates bunking classes and just ensures the language is learnt within the stipulated time. Indian movies are incomplete without some extra spice and climaxes, the dutiful Shashi has to skip her exam for the wedding and lands up in a situation (where her folks think she is in an awkward plight) and delivers a monologue in English leaving the entire crowd astonished and applauding. The very next moment you see her 'refined' husband bowing down to his lady, an arrogant daughter awe-struck at her mother's drastic change.

Draped in elegant, khadi, cotton, silk, and crepe saris, de-glam and beautiful, vulnerable and sad, yet selfless and strong, confident and poised, the protagonist, Sri, looks a million bucks and has nailed it down effortlessly as acting is her forte.

Gauri Shinde, making her directorial debut with English Vinglish, has picked up her cast and crew smartly, has crafted it artistically without a glitch, of course taking some lessons and help from her famous husband, Balki. The music and songs of the movie are peppy and leave you soaring with confidence and boast. Movies like these can still be a run-away-success without item numbers, skin and cleavage display and obscenities. It's a feel-good movie, treat to watch which leaves one with lot of insights and introspection.

There are several reasons what made me blog about this movie, one it's a review from my side, two, there is no stopping for a woman when she aspires to be something and desires for it relentlessly. There are several notes one has to make off while watching, a world which is still presumed to be dominated by the darker sex, goes to tell a woman is not meant only for household chores and deserves equal respect and dignity on par with men. There might be many Shashis out there but not all get the opportunity to outshine themselves. Signing off with a dialogue which every women looks out for from her kith and kin:

"I don't want love, I have enough of it. All I need is respect."

An Ode To The Maestro

August 8th, 1981, a child was born, was the apple of the eye to his parents, just like how any couple would feel, was special and precious. Who isn't to their parents? But there was something superfluous about this kid.

Going by the trivia that the web has to offer, this kid like any other normal, upbringing, concerned parents would do, was denied to make his own choices but destiny and fate had its own plans. Though tennis was a family passion in the Federer household, junior Federer was kept way far from the nets and the racket. Happenstance? Fate?

At the age of thirteen, Roger Federer left home to conquer the tennis world. It was way back in the 90's where tennis was dominated by its prodigies Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi, Ivan Lendl etc and there was a man in the making, brushing his skills and techniques to take on the champs of that era. Success and recognition first struck a chord with him at the All England Club, Wimbledon, where he won his first grand slam and rest as they say is history. The man, the myth and a true champion, Roger Federer! An amalgam of perfection, sheer concentration and dedication, subtle and guile, and a craft with a wile. There was a breakthrough and complete dominance for five consecutive years. He let his footwork do the talking, swiftly moving across the court to reach out to any corner and thumping a winner down the line. His distinguished forehand and single handed backhand would flabbergast his opponents as they kept guessing where on court would the ball arrive. He created magic time and again, and still continues to do so.

Federer's versatility has been summarised by Jimmy Connors: "In an era of specialists, you're either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist, or a hard court specialist...or you're Roger Federer."

As its said, one cannot be at the pinnacle of one's career always, there was breakdown, deterioration and fading. With commendable success came criticism. Critics sort off wrote him off whenever he was knocked out of a grand slam before reaching the finals. Strategies, techniques and skills remained the same but what was going wrong was a million dollar question even to the man himself. It wasn't loopholes within himself but a young group of players taken the spotlight away with the likes of Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic. But it was again in 2009 where he won a marathon against Andy Roddick to surpass Pete's record in front of Pete himself, silencing the critics. Success again played the see-saw game until he came back to win the Wimbledon crown again adding a staggering figure of seventeen grand slams into his kitty.

After having achieved so much in life, Roger is known for his composure, tranquility, sportsmanship and has been a true gentlemen and is always grounded. Very few can handle such elevating success and cult status with sheer modesty and simplicity. Considering the illustrious career he has had, I guess he has nothing more to prove or achieve. Supposedly regarded as the second most followed man on earth after Nelson Mandela, ladies dashing knight, an inspiration to many and to me as well because of whom I let go all the inhibitions and made a start to learn tennis, thanks for the tennis addict that I am, a role model to many generations, for someone were success has become a day-to-day affair of sorts. A zillion hearts will be broken the day his retirement will be announced. Until then tennis is in safe hands, possibly the best ambassador of the sport till date, reliving every game, every time. Arguably the best tennis player ever, tagged to be the GOAT - greatest of all time, someone who redefines greatness, and has a legendary stature, here's wishing you the best in life, Happy Birthday Champion!

Journey Of A Girl

I was an embryo, 

Unaware of everything around me.

You carried me for nine months,

And still continue to do so.

Then came the day when I was born.

Our eyes met for the first time,

And we registered a bondage, 

Till time immemorial, for a lifetime.

You saw me grow,

And saw me fall,

For you too were hurt,

Every time I had a scar.

Then came the toughest part of your life,

To teach me, to educate me.

I owe you everything I am right now,

For the battles you have led to get me this far.

Now is the time I stand up,

And leave no stone unturned,

To accomplish all your needs,

And make you smile through my deeds.

I shall be gone tomorrow,

Merry and married.

Carrying a baggage of memories, 

Leaving a shallow place within me and within you.

And hence the cycle repeats..

IPL: Glitz, Glamour and Cricket

For a span of about one and a half month or so, the whole nation goes frenzied and frantic thinking about whats in store for them for that period of time. Yes, I am talking right, it's the Indian Premier League (IPL) that takes the front seat on par with other shows thereby increasing the channel TRP's. Every individual wants his or her club to win!

Nine teams, handsome bunch of players, nine franchisee, supposed-to-be-beautiful-size-zero cheer girls, some known and lost faces back in the studio, several countries, million fans across the continent and one game, cricket, participating in what is called the over-hyped, over-rated, media centric affair, the IPL. Wait a minute, is it only about the game of cricket or there's more to it? There is cricket on the face of it, and what is a game of cricket without some glitz, glamour and jaw-dropping entertainment.

Of the eight matches that Bangalore hosted, I managed to squeeze in for four matches where the home team played against Kolkata, Chennai, Hyderabad, Mumbai. Bangalore known for its cosmopolitan culture and the other benefits it exhibits, people across the country move down in search of a comfort living and posh lifestyle the city has to offer. What surprised me was the support other teams got when their heroes came to play here, the best rivalry being that between Bangalore and Chennai. Was it just a game of cricket?? Hell no! It is similar to the adulation India vs Pakistan, Roger Federer vs Rafael Nadal or Real Madrid vs Barcelona gets. With half of the city's and MNC's population overtaken by the Tamilians, and not just that, playing the blame-game in our own city under our nose, it was a matter of pride and prestige. I was shell shocked to see at least half of the stadium spectators supporting the men in yellow. Thanks to the rain gods for spoiling the party thereby preventing any kind of misconduct, verbal or actions that could create a huge ruckus. 

And aahh, how can I forget to mention RCB vs MI match? A five foot, two inches tall man, whose supposedly, arguably 'the god of cricket' according to three fourth of India's population, Sachin Tendulkar, comes to the garden city for a game of cricket and there goes the crowd, crazy, nonsensical and bizarre! A ticket which was worth rupees 300 went sold for 1.2k, the figures just went augmenting with each passing day. Yes, I too paid the price and went to cheer my team, to experience probably the last match of this year's IPL in Bangalore. I met this group in the stadium who were originally kannadigas, cheering 'Mumbai-Mumbai' displaying placards which caught my attention and made me ask why were they supporting Mumbai when they were talking in kannada and from Karnataka, for which came the reply, 'Madam, as long as Sachin is there in any team, we support only that team irrespective of our origin and place', hmmm, I smiled and wished him good luck. I admit I like ST as a human-being and not as a player. I am no communist and the last person to talk about communalism, but my senses said be loyal to your roots first then an individual. There was nothing right or wrong about the group nor was I but whom was I trying to convince, a nation which is driven crazy only by one cricketer?? On the whole, ninety percent of the crowd had come just to get a glimpse of the maestro but were also supporting the home side which lit up my face. It was the best match I had witnessed so far in my life, had RCB won it for us, it would have been the cherry on the cake. We lost a close match, so near yet so far! Second best was against Deccan were we won a thriller!

One should attend the high profile, running late into the night IPL parties to know the other side of these cricketers whom we almost ideally bank upon. After a tiring, exhaustive match, I had very little energy left to attend the much hyped about post match party where one gets to party with the famous and not so famous stars, not literally though. Girls flaunting their micro-minis and high heels to woo away the cricketers, men were not far behind too in their fashion sense. Boozey, food, hard-core DJ mixing, fasionistas, actors and actresses, players and a whole lot of money goes into making such extravagant, flamboyant parties. The players boozed all night, there were performances by the cheer girls, they can do anything to earn their bread and butter, and rightly so because the glamour goes hand in hand with cricket these days. Vijay Mallya, in spite of his detriment, can throw such parties each time there's a match, goes to tell that he indeed lives life king size that makes me change the abbreviation of Indian Premier League to Indian Paisa-Vasool League! 

The gentlemen's game in its true sense, is not anymore just a game of cricket!

Moved To A Better World

Well, eleventh of April could literally be called the 'movers and shakers' day! Doing the rounds in today’s newspapers are the ‘shakers’ which shook the Asian continent with an Earthquake of magnitude 8.7 on the Richter and the heart wrenching tale of a three month old baby who battled for life thus ‘moving’ a million hearts.

I am no feminist completely but can do understand and stand up at scenarios like these. It is often said that a girl child born is a blessing for the family in terms of money, luck and prosperity but was not the case with baby Afreen, unfortunately. Forget the gender, be it baby boy or girl, couples feel blessed to be parents with the way health complications and lifestyle have taken a beating. Women feel complete and blessed for having given birth to a life, carrying and nurturing it for months. In an evolving society like this where gender discrimination and biasing is passé, little did the toddler know that the birth as a ‘girl-child’ itself would become the reason for her death? Brutally tortured and handicapped by her own father for being a girl!! Which world do we live in? I came across in paper that her delicate hands were twisted and fractured, burnt cigarettes were placed and what not?! For all these days she suffered in silence, so much so that any baby could have suffered more than it should have in any lifetime. How inhumane and spineless a man he must be to harass a baby, where it’s universally accepted babies are god’s gift. Yes, Afreen has moved to a better world because she was precious and didn’t deserve to be in the midst of a monster father. It’s sad to even imagine how many such gruesome cases from rural India go unattended and unnoticed.

She has left behind immense pain and catastrophe for her mother Reshma, sparing a thought about the mother gives me jitters to even think what trauma she might be going through to have accepted this bitter fact. My prayers with the bereaved mother..

Rest in peace little angel..