I got to know the difference today. Between the 1st class coach in the Bombay local trains and the regular coaches. The seats in the 1st class are cushioned. Cushioned my a**. What difference does it make? Its just as dirty, messy, peeled off all over, and open, as the rest of the windy, open train. O I din tell you. The local trains do not have any doors or any such things. There’re just these widely gaping enterances/exits that people go in and come out of 3-4 at a time. Cushions … my a**. After royally screwing all our asses, the least the government can do is provide simple cushioned seats in the regular coaches too. Or at least clean up the “1st bloody class coach” for making us pay more than SEVEN times more for it. Methinks, for all the progress we’re making right now in the world, a regular street anywhere in India will always be “third world” … even in the 2100s. *sigh*

There’s this song by Godsmack …

I stand alone.
Inside,
I stand alone.

I can so relate to this song.

Got my first taste of the much celebrated local mumbai trains today. And God provided me with the best hour to get attuned to it. Early morning!! I started from home at 5. It was still dark when I stepped out of the apartmenrt building, the road wet with the nightly showers. In fact it was still drizzling lightly. There were still some fears in my heart, cos I had been made aware of common mugging incidents in late light local trains, with women passengers. Although it was no where it being night, but the darkness in the sky encourages the darkness in the heart of those who have it in abundance. I was starting to get worried about not finding an auto till the Andheri station. But soon enough I spotted the so-familiar black behind of an auto, standing all alone, lonely on the wet road, in a corner, under a small roadside bush. The auto wallah was sound asleep in the back passenger seat. Under other circumstances I would not have woken him up. But there was no other auto in sight, and the area I stay in is not considered to be very ’safe’, there’s actually a jungle nearby. So I started beating my umbrella strongly on the auto side, crying “Bhaiya!!! Chalogey?” (Would you go brother?)

The auto ride was … nice. I normally cover my face completely with a thin scarf to save it from the pollution that kisses my skin pores so ravenously that it sprouts with pimples, the puss ones. But the cool breeze, grabbing this rare opportunity of being without the pollution to reign terror on it, hugged me so warmly, lovingly caressing my hair, I felt it in each strand. It was beautiful. So I just let the scarf be, wrapped around my wrist. Having woken up at 4:30, I was soon feeling drowsy, a sweet sleep massaging my temples. *sigh*

I reached the station and got off the auto still quite apprehensive. I knew its too early and the trains are going to be fairly empty, and me a single woman, all alone in the long, fast moving train. Not only tempting, but also a very easy prey. I reached the ticket window and confidently said, “VT, 1st class”. Equally confident, the ticket guy jibed back, “Rs 78″. My jaw dropped. The whole idea of taking the local train was to save hugely on money. And everyone I spoke to had suggested that if I feared being sandwitched between the much seen in movies local train crowds, I can very well travel 1st class. It is safe … was the unanimous advice. But no one ever told me that the financial gap was so damn wide. Marti kya na karti, I got the ticket and started towards the platform. The day was beginning to show itself a little through the horizon, while I was still slouching in the train, waiting for it to start. 1st f***ing class. It was ditto like any other compartment, messy, dirty, broken. And at 5:30 in the morning completely empty. I might as well have bought the rs 9 ticket. The 45-50 minutes journey was tiring. The train would hardly get out of one long station that the next one would come and then it’d stop. Some school children got on the 1st class compartment and sat on the other end of the ‘1st class’ seat. I dozed off. When I opened my eyes, the train was not moving. I got up in a panic, reached the exit, and asked the first person I saw if it was VT. Yes, it was. I quickly got off and started walking in a direction which didn’t seem right to me. Soon enough, a gentleman was nice enough to point me in the completely opposite direction, if I wanted to reach the Hawra Mail train. I promplty turned around.

The Hawra Mail was empty and the doors were closed along the entire length of the train. I reached outside the coach that I had been told the new maid in a yellow saree will be arriving in. No one was around. I looked around, called up S at home, told her about the situation, and asked her to call Kolkata. In the meantime, I hungrily gorged on a vada pav, got myself a rs 9 ticket back to Andheri, and went and sat even more slouchingly in the train to Andheri, making up the mind to sleep through the entire 45-50 minutes of the journey. S called me back. And here’s the best part. That guy from Kolkata who’d called me last night, had just quickly told me that the maid has started from there. When I asked him when she’ll be reaching, he told me, ‘I don’t know, please call up the railway enquiry and confirm the time’. Which I did, and here I was at the very spacious VT at 7 in the morning, fearing that maybe I missed the maid and she went hysterical and is now running around alone in the big bad city. When I talked to S, I got to know that the maid had started her long journey from Kolkata to Mumbai only last night and that she’ll be arriving only after a journey of a day and 2 nights … tomorow. Hmmm………. I dozed off again.

But I am looking forward to catching the train again tomorow, 5-5:30 in the morning. :)

Its true. I realize it now. I din just want the carrot. I wanted the whole plant. Soon I would have wanted the entire field, everything, anything that is the carrot. I am sorry li’l carrot, I should’ve respected your … requirements .. boundaries.

Kabhi kisi to mukkammal jahan nahi milta!

WHY???

So then Moksha is getting, or rather attaining everything eventually. But then it is only the realization that in fact you do not have anything, you don’t really “need” anything. Poor enlightened suckers!!

There is so so so damn much I need to change, or rather ‘improve’ about myself.

1. I have a BIGGG ego … in some matters. I just don’t get it that yes there are people on this Earth who might not find me in any way … interesting … hmmm … although I do feel that such people need serious help. :)

2. I am very immature … in some matters. I need to grow up. Or at least act like I am a grown-up and maintain some sort of decorum.

3. I am very selfish … in many matters. If there is something I want, or there’s something I wish to do, I normally do not think about whether, or how it is going to affect those around me. I have started making a conscious effort and now actively take care about giving a thought to the desires of those around me.

4. I become hyper-actively restless … very often. Although that stems from the immaturity factor. I shoot nuisancical ideas out of my mouth at a rapid rate giving the impression that maybe I have gone berzerk.

5. I don’t like to work. :(

I do believe that whatever happens, happens for the good. Today, I am truly greatful for all that I have, and feel blessed. My child is the best gift this universe has bestowed on me, I love my life, and I have a joyous, happy future waiting for me with open arms. :)

Thank you!!!

PS: The carrot is too small and soft anyway. I like my carrots large and crunchy. :)

I am feeling terrible! :( After coming all the way to Mumbai to escape this very sickening feeling that hits your heart and your tummy from the inside, I get dumped all over again, within a month of my starting a new life and feeling so great and happy about it. Its like:

Ye terey pyar ka gum
(this sadness of your love)
Ik bahana thaa sanam
(was just an excuse my love)
Apni kismat hee kuchh aysee thee
(its my dumb luck which is like this)
Ke dil toot gaya
(that my heart got broken)

*sigh* And I was happy. The job is great, I love the city, the new place that I have now is great. I had gotten into a good life rhythm and had started really enjoying myself … and then suddenly, good ol Almighty swings this red juicy carrot right in front of my eyes. Oh so tempting!!! A carrot that I can see, can touch, but can’t take a bite off … and its right there … *sigh* Not fair!!! Not fair at all.

There’s so much sadness around anyway. Its spilling over the edges of this planet, and still getting mass produced. Then why do people do this. Just increase more sadness. Why tease someone with a taste of something that they don’t intend to give in the first place? Should I feel angry? Or just plain stupid. I feel irritated. Like, what the ****.

Last night me and S went out to get drunk. We used to get drunk together pretty often kabhi, in the times gone by. We hadn’t done it in a long time. And I was feeling miserable. So I asked S if she wanted to get drunk. It was a great evening after a long, long, time. Not only did we get drunk, we truly … enjoyed ourselves. :0) For some hours, I completely (ok, not completely) forgot about the carrot, and how craving for it was continously hurting me.

I hope I can quickly go back to how I was feeling just 2 weeks back. Happy!

*sigh*

Its nothing but a craving … but it hurts so bad. Is there something one can take … besides poison. :-/

It was a nice weekend. It was a very, very, very nice weekend. :) After ages, I felt this kinda good. Relaxed, happy, havin fun. :)

S is here from Delhi. An old, good friend of mine. There have been times when we din call each other for years, but we always knew that in times of need we cud count on each other. Now that I look back, we both have travelled such a long, winding, treacherous, at times a sahara, at times a paradiso kind of a road. We have most definitely come a long, long way. Ah! Such a long way.

I remember when we had first met, I was … pretty … well … lost (which I still am in many ways). She too was sunk deep in a thick quagmire. We found each other, like two lost kids in a big park, alone and looking for mom n dad. We grew fond of each other, and gradually realized how we both were so at home with each other. *sigh* Those were good times … good memories. Would I like to go back there. Definitely not!

Yes, we both have come a long way. It was easy so many times, the thought of just giving-in, giving-up, breaking-down. But we both stuck to our dreams, what we wished to have. And now here we are, after all that time, and after all those ‘hardships’. Two individuals, in the worlds that we have created ourselves, for ourselves, by independent means. Worlds that are not selfish, or self-centered, but worlds that are capable of giving sustenance.

Cheers to a new beginning. :) … for S and for me.

This dark, continously rainy mausam is so depressing. I wish I had someone to have … pakoras with. :)

I feel like going to the ruins of an old, decrepit, pre-historic temple, on a very, very high hilltop, and just sit there, staring into the horizon, grey clouds looming low over my head, cool, moist breeze caressing my hair.

… or just cry.

I did it. I changed my newspaper from TOI (The Times of India) to The Asian Age. Veer reads Asian Age, so I decided to start that. But the decision to cut-off TOI from my life was completely mine.

Last Sunday, in their matrimonials section (don’t ask me what i was doing there *blush*), they took out this completely pathetic poll on Isha Koppikar’s marriage-worthyness. Isha Koppikar is the present so-called Bollywood ’sex-symbol’, in the news mostly because of her very ‘daring’ scenes in all her flicks. And they’d actually, rather proudly it seems, printed completely obscene, and unfair, and unjustified opinions of the readers; the Indian man who forgot he needs to grow up somewhere around the age 7. (Actually aajkal most 7 year olds are more mature.) And they openly declared her a slut. They used the very word.

I have not been this disgusted with something that doesn’t concern me, in a long, long time. And trust me, I have seen some really disgusting things. This crossed all limits. How dare the newspaper become so damn irresponsible. If I had some extra cash, I would’ve sued them. This is the kind of closed-minded newspaper we have that claims to be the most-read … and I think that it is.

I am truly ashamed. :( Its sad that I am where I am right now. I wish I could change places.

am really really pooped today. just wanna crash into bed. veer, i miss you.

Good day today. The new project has started full throttle. I don’t even have time to quickly add something here. But I want to. Because I feel like sharing that I am feeling good. I am feeling good!!! :)

It started raining today … properly. The first day in the much celebrated Bombay rains, and I got splashed all over with the brown muddy cold-coffee-like waters, whirled towards my unaware, recently showered body, by a car that didn’t even realise the way its unthinking routine and mundane rushing past life, touched and affected my life. My heart sank. I had anyway started feeling uncomfortable because of the falling temperatures. For a moment, and I’d never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would, just for a fraction of a second, I missed Delhi, complete with its heat and dust. More the heat than the dust.

I’d gone on a blind date this past Saturday. Against all odds, it actually turned out to be good. At least the little time that we spent together. Better than I’d expected. The comfort levels were great … at least for me. :) But then I am comfortable most of the times. :) We just drove around, but it was good to laugh like that with a member of the opposite sex, after a long, long, time of even being near one on a social level. I was relaxed. But eventually, there was a clash of some immediate needs and desires, so we parted ways … pretty abruptly. It was weird!

I need to take up driving. I can’t do more than half, well, most of the things I wanna do in life cos I can’t drive. I know how to drive … hypothetically. But just taking the car on the road freaks me out. My tummy starts to churn, and as if my shoulder bones turn to cartilage.

There’s so much I wanna do with Cyra. Take her out to places, go out for weekend trips, generally drive around in the rains. But I can’t. :-/

As of now, I am spending my life from one Sunday to another. I love weekends. Its the first time in my life that I actually look forward to weekends.

Earlier, I used to find weekends very boring, because almost all my friends and aquaintances used to be in the office, and weekends meant spending time at home. Once home, my lazy bones rarely allowed me to make an effort, bathe, dress up and go out. I normally used to sleep till noon, drag my droopy self s-l-o-w-l-y out of bed, search around the kitchen for something to eat, slouch in front of the TV, and maintain that position till late at night. I love to go out, but only if I am already out. :) Like from office.

Now, weekends mean spending time with Cyra. Hugging her, squeezing her, loving her, just being with her.

Everyday when I reach home in the evening, she is standing there behind the door, waiting for it to open completely, jumping eagerly, her arms lifted, her face all smiles, my sunshine. And then I pick her up, love her, and she hugs me, and loves me in return, softly purring mama, mama. Each time my heart skips a beat. I discover love all over again. I wish I could be with her all the time.

directly copied from Amrit’s blog at www.quality-writing.com:

The chicken that we eat,

- Is scalded alive so that it can be easily deplumed
- It’s beak is seared with a hot blade while it writhes in pain
- It is stuffed into bags and cages along with other chickens, crushing its bones
- Is fed with medicines that make it so heavy that it breaks its own legs with the weight and remains that way until it is killed dies

I don’t mean to lecture anybody, nor I want to dramatize things, but, is it worth it? All this demonic pain just because something we want to eat that tastes delicious or gives the so-called nourishment?

It’s not only the chickens. All the animals that are meant to be consumed die horrible deaths. To get an idea, you can watch this video (http://www.meetyourmeat.com/) to see for yourself through what agony these animals go to reach our plates. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t watch the whole video. And this is when all the time I see predators on the nature channels killing and eating without repulsion. People really have to be dead from inside to inflict so much pain.

i haven’t been feeling great of late. lots of physical complications are back. its uncomfortable. i have taken measures. hope things get OK soon. i love to play around with Cyra, take her out, which i am not able to of late.

and it is so weird. i kind of miss him. maybe not “him” per say, but maybe the idea of him. all the stupid fantasies i had. what a needless waste.

remember jaggu. whatever happens, happens for good. … for good.

there’s this song: zindagi ke safar mein guzar jatein hein jo makaam, wo phir nahi aatey.

if thought of from ‘a’ perspective, it is a thoroughly deeply sad line. all you can then say is ‘SHIT!!!’.

this song has another really … insightful line: kal tadapna pardey yaad mein jinki. rok lo rooth kar unko jaaney na do.

listening?

… baad mein pyar ke chahey bhejo hazaaron salaam, wo phir nahi aatey …

Today, quiet suddenly I feel a lack of friends … around. I really really wish I had some friends .. in the same city. :)