The Unforgettable Desire

(Disclaimer: The incidents, experiences, and what may seem as ‘general understanding’ of the society is purely subjective and is written by keeping in mind the immediate surroundings of the blogger. It can seem as complete crap to some readers, and that is completely fine for their journey of growing up might have been quite different or rather better from that of the blogger. Also, the other dominant gender apart from the feminine one, might feel offended at some places, which is totally fine by the blogger for she isn’t telling their tale, but her own story. Any offence felt by anyone is not the intention of the post. Sorry. But not sorry. The purpose is simply to tell a personal tale. Please leave your comments, if you may.)

SRK movie| "Love You Zindagi"|  Alia Bhatt| Gauri Shinde. Don’t do overacting| Some romanticised concept/ optimistic way of looking at life| Don’t disappoint me after Udta Punjab | Oh, she will make it look so good. That’s how I reacted to the first trailer of Dear Zindagi . I was pretty sure that the story won’t be new. I was surer that Gauri Shinde will not disappoint me. I have watched English Vinglish a number of times. It’s in fact my go-to movie, if one may say so, when I am low. It is a movie, but it also reminds me that my understanding of the politics of a house is a general understanding, only unacknowledged by most. With that in mind, I wanted to watch Dear Zindagi , to have the feel of a Gauri Shinde film; a film which is unconventional at the most conventional points and somehow doesn’t go haywire.

On 16 th morning, I booked my tickets for the First Day First Show of Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them at Prasads, Large Screen (IMAX, Hyderabad). And since then I haven’t been calm. No, not even as I am writing this. I was almost sure that my yearslong dream won’t come true as my internal exams were scheduled for 18 th November. But a last minute postponement gave me the idea that, I was so meant to watch the very first show of the movie!

Sundays are supposed to be cheat days, aren’t they? You get to stay in bed as long as you want, eat whatever keeps you alive, have a FRIENDS marathon, check your newsfeeds every now and then, and curse yourself for not doing the piled up work. Such was my last Sunday, that is, 13 November 2016 till I randomly invited a couple of my friends on Facebook for an event of Storytelling Open Mic that I had signed up ‘going’ two weeks ago but was in no mood to attend that day. Being quite sure that no one I know will show up and another event being there in two weeks from now, I was quite comfortably tucked into bed when at four in the evening I got an unexpected call.

There comes a time in one’s life when words no longer help. Words, they had been my thing. Since long. Now they seem not.

Dear Misandrist Have you ever introduced yourself with a name that isn’t yours? Or have you ever felt the need to take up a name because you weren’t aware of the name given to you? Or have you ever felt like belonging to another gender when the world sees you for what your biological sex shows? Or have you ever ate daal chawal but were sure it was biryani in your mouth? Or have you constantly covered your identity with a mask? Of course, the questions are absurd. Of course, I have lost my mind. How can I be sane? ‘Feminism’ has been a terrorizing agent on the social media in the recent times. Feminism has been bastardised. Yet, I find many women introducing themselves as feminists. Just the way you did, when we first met.

O girl, dear girl, What burdens do you bear? O girl, dear girl, What stories don’t you share? O girl, dear girl, Why do you cry in the dead of the night? O girl, dear girl, Why won’t you share your plight?

Guest post by Sushmita Sengupta Look at her. Isn’t she just endearing? That child-like innocence on her face, as she finally tucks herself to sleep. Nights. I love nights, peaceful, calm. Far from the gaze and judgement of the world, she in the room of her own, I resting in my closet. It almost seems as if we have earned this calm, after battling it out on the streets of Delhi in this scorching weather of July!

In a recent conversation about time travel I was told that had I not had cancer then I might have been pursuing medical or something else. It might have been a hypothetical example. It might have been a personal belief. But it is not the first time that I was said so. I went down the rank sheet post cancer. There was a time when I was among the toppers of my class and I aspired to be the highest scorer in the 10 th boards, then there was the time when the ranks didn’t bother me. In between there was cancer.

At 22, I have realised that people have underestimated the power/fun/peace of being alone. The state of being Alone is often confused with loneliness and hence met with pity or sympathetic remarks. Four years ago when I moved to Delhi, away from my family, I went to shop alone and got myself dinner. Upon my return to the hostel room, my roommate was shocked to know that I spent the day alone. She failed to understand why a person would choose to walk around alone when s/he can have company easily. In fact, if I remember correctly then she often said that she had never known people like me before.

Guest Post by Seema Sahoo A thunder has risen inside my mind My breaths are intermingled With each other

When I visit my parents, I often hear the neighbours saying to my mother, ab to beti aa gayi hai, aapko help mil jaegi. Probably it is a proud moment for the entire ‘Women’ community, but personally it pisses me off. No, I do not mind helping my mother in her chores. I mind when people believe it is the duty of the daughter to do so. When asked, why not the son’s? The most common answer is, Arre wo to nalayak hai, ladke thodi samajhte hain. Personally, I believe not only this statement is offensive to men but also comments about the speaker’s failure in parenting. But then it is the socially accepted characteristics for men to be careless and women to be responsible. Yes. And if it does not offend you, then you are another deluded toy in the game of patriarchy .

SHE: 6 घंटों में सुबह होगी   दिन भर फिर तुम्हे वही एहसास होगा   जो रोज़ होता है   और फिर तुम रात में सो जाओगे   कि  कल शायद कुछ अच्छा होगा   कोई शायद कुछ अच्छा कहेगा  

Exams. I love the preparation leave for exams. The mind is under so much pressure and yet the creative aspects flower the best during this time. The pressure of getting to know the syllabus, of finding the texts online, of making a time table, of failing to study, of being tired of trying to study can be really really frustrating. The mind looks for escapes. The mind conjures all the stagnant creative powers of the entire semester and puts it in one direction, be it a really nice status update, a few sketches, poetry, or even cooking. And trust me, people are in almost always in a disbelief that you, yes you, actually did any of it.

Dear family, friends, boyfriend, girlfriend, Padosi, Dur Baithe Rishtedaar etc. If you want to be scared for my life, then please be. If you think there are more rapists than bad drivers on the road, then maybe you’re right. If you think living alone has a greater chance of me being harassed, then maybe you’re right. If you think my partying in a bar is signaling guys for sex, then maybe you’re right.

The need to be needed by others, isn’t that something? Deep down, each one of us wants to feel needed by someone, anyone, every one. But if not, what then? At an early age she had known that nothing apart from Cartoon Network was pleasurable. She would rather watch the few words that can apparate humans into a parallel universe of dragons than the few words that broke a family on StarPlus. As far as I can recall, she wasn’t really upset by the altered family picture. It was the ‘happy ending no matter what’ that bothered her. Somewhere between the Dragon Tales and Ekta Kapoor’s soaps, she found herself drawing a distorted picture of who she will become.

When we look back into the past, we divide our lives into phases. Be it a life of 25 years or 70, we phase it out. Certain things trigger the memories of these by gone days in a way that the nostalgia denies to move on till we have revisited the romanticised version of the then reality. It can be a morning bus ride to college. It can be a walk down the street. It can be a phone call. It can be a random thing that screws our mind up in an otherwise perfectly sorted present. It can be anything.

To all those deleted names and contacts, I deleted you from my phonebook, facebook or any other book About six months ago, for no fault of yours. Someday in the past, you had probably meant a lot I had shared more than just a small talk with you But slowly you were just a name in my phonebook And that suffocated me.

Parents. They play a great role in the shaping of one’s childhood. But today I am not going to glorify them for a certain trait of theirs like I have done before. Sure, I acknowledge every move, decision that they have taken for the betterment of their children. Sure, they have sacrificed a lot. But that doesn’t mean they are great. They are humans. They have their flaws. They have their better sides. But I will not glorify them.

Oftentimes when I talk to my friends from the previous college, they ask me, you are Akankshya, you always loved living alone so why is Hyderabad making you so miserable? And I say, Not Again! In Delhi, I spent so much time with people that I needed some alone time. In Hyderabad, I spend all my time with myself apart from a few days in a month and let’s admit it; I am a really boring soul. So for the last six months, I have cribbed about not having a group of people to hang out with, to share a pizza, to roam around aimlessly, to make impromptu plans because well planned ones fail, to sit around a table and have the disgusting conversation over food etc. etc. In the end all I did was torture my only best friend here, Asif, to meet me at least once a week to save the miserable soul that I am becoming!