Setting-baazi, Love, Relationships etc.

Meet us! We are the so called 'Mard Jaats'. We are in abundance, 1000 for every 938 girls and demand weakens with supply. We 'Mards' have been cursed with every spell been ever made, from the 'connoisseur of sex' to 'ill mannered freak' there hardly been a single tag left with which we have never refereed to. Problem lies in our abundance.

Let me explain, I am a simple Engineering student. Talking about my class, it has around 15 girls and 45 boys and my class has one of the highest proportion of girls. The condition of core branches has always been pathetic with hardly 3 to 4 girls, in which only 1 or 2 are there without mustache. After filtering odd ones out, we only left on the mercy of 'not more than 2 to 3 pretty girls/class' on an average and for these '2 to 3 girls, whole class bang their head'. Few boys end up liking their photos on 'Facebook' and few keep proposing them over the messages in disguised form of 'love shayaris'. We boys have nothing like attitude. If a girl don't reply for half an hour we decide to not to reply to her message ever. The next second, when your mobile beeps and her name appears as sender, you happily open her message with an unusual smile and reply as soon as possible to not to lose the momentarily gained momentum. Story repeats and our pseudo commitments too. This attitude thing is really bringing a bad name for us. Problem lies in abundance, they are hens with golden eggs, we are cocks with nothing to lay.

There was a guy I don't want to take name of. When he entered our group of 6, we already had 2 couples, and two others were, me and another girl. I have an old record of being single in group of committed ones. The newly entered guy was quick enough to smell the existing dynamics. Don't know if he had a book of '101 ways to woo girls' or what, he seriously put that single girl by his side. From 'arranging chair to make her sit' to 'giving her handkerchief whenever she wanted' he did everything. She was so impressed with her new pet that she suggested me :
"Ashish, you never cares. Be like him and soon you would get your girlfriend".

I can never treat a girl like 'Abla Naaris' , specially when i am in a group of friends.

A faithful dog can soon earn an owner for him and that guy proved it.....:D

Now there is another side of story. My physics teacher had once told me that always explain others by giving them an example. Demo in terms of 'Phunsuk Wangdu' but i don't have 'Chutnney' right now. I had already given you one (not 'Chhutney', I am talking about Example.)

I was in first year of my Engineering, when i met a girl. (Not of my college). She was damn good looking. It is their look which deceives us. I was mesmerized and then followed what you can easily guess. Things went normal till the time we got committed. Later, I lost my wings and she lost her patience. We broke after 4 month of commitment.
 

According to a survey, 7 in every 10 break ups, are initiated by males. Why things take a tide against shore after commitment? What irritates the boys most, Who is really responsible?

See, I am not an expert but i have been through few relationships(I am being a super stud, it's actually 3 or say 2 because last one was an accident.) After these three/two relationships I came to know about the hidden secrets of being single. Below, listed problems are experienced by me. In your case, it can be different. Apologies to girls reading the post. Most of the facts are funny, fact is what they are :    

1). JANU/BABY/SHONA/GUDDA, I will not leave a single nickname for you:

Get ready to get 'poopies' messages from your 'GF'. It is the first pre-settled rule to get and give a nickname. A single nickname??? Not sure. You will enjoy these nicknames in the beginning with the hope that later on she would stop calling you with such annoying names, but to your regret, she will never. Her bonding with your nicknames will get stronger and stronger with time. Adding to your woes, she can discover new ones too. This is not all, she will expect a nickname for her too, and you have to reply to her messages with those names. See the demo, directly from my long deleted inbox:

"Missing you my Baby"

"Muaahh.....My bacchaa"

"Mera Shonu, monu Gudda"

They could give us a single name and we can grow an appetite for it too but no, If they can use several names, they will. 

2). Work???? What the hell is this??

Girls can never be a professional or practical in commitment. Your GF has no work to do. She sit, she sleep, she wake up with her cellphone and will keep reminding you that you have it too. If she is a hosteler, congrats, 'Aapki to Batti lag gyi'.

"Janu, Babu kya kar rha hai? Apni shona ko miss kar rha hai??" (Miss to tab karega naa jab yaad ayegi, Tu to yaad se jaati bhi nhi ki fir aa jati hai.)

From 'Good Morning' to 'Good Night', she will not leave a single event of the day. This is not all, you have to reply to all these messages.

"For her's every 'Good Morning' message there should be a counter 'Good Morning' reply from you, otherwise she can turn your 'Good morning' into What-the-hell-is-good-in-this-morning"

"Baby what are you doing?" This message simply means, you have to talk to me right now.

In the case of your excuse of work she would simply say, "Han han, tum hi busy ho. Hum to vellen hain."  and unknowingly, she is actually telling you the truth. 

3). For being my true boyfriend, You have to learn the tales of my family:

They can talk about their families for hours. Starting right from Ma-Papa, passing through Chacha-Chachi, Mama-Mami,  she will take you to her favorite cousins. Not once but many times, whenever she want, she can start with her 'Amar Chitra Katha'.

"My family cares a lot for me. My brother, my Ma-Papa, everybody loves me."

(Ohho, so your family cares for you. Lucky one, Hame to ghar se dhakke maar ke nikaal diya gya hai.)

We boys don't express what we need not to".
There is nothing like obvious in the dictionary of Girls. This 'obvious' word can shorten their endless talks so they don't care about its existence.

4). Bed Time stories : You have to listen to her every activity of the day:

I already told you that these girls have no work to do except sending you the 'Poopies' messages all day but never mind, they are good in story-telling.  

"I met my childhood friend today. Wow!!!" 

(Oh it's really exiting, provided your friend must be hot.)

"Tumhari jaanu ne aj maggi bhi khayi" 

(Oh really?? Maggi?? How did you get it. From Himalayas? Oh my baby, I am proud of you.)

"Itni garmi hai, mujhe to rashes ho gye" 

(Now what do you want, should i come and apply Boroline?)

"Aj main ladd li apne best friend se" Console her. Doesn't matter she is right or wrong, just console her.
 (Koi baat nhi baby, she does not deserve to be your friend.)

 She would tell you her future plans too.

"Kal to hum shopping pe jayenge" (................)

I really loved to keep quite on these lines. If you give her an enthusiastic reply she can call you to shopping with her other friends on too. Shopping with your Gf's friend can simply land you into 'No man's Land'. 


 5). This word "NARAAZ" :

This word has been a blockbuster in every known relationship. Being Naaraz frequently is the favorite timepass for girls. They can spend their and waste their bf's hour on this word 'Naraaz'. A normal person don't like anybody's company when he is annoyed or angry but 'Women are from Venus'.

One girl always pings me on Facebook after getting into a fight with her BF (who is friend of mine too).

"Usse bolna ki main naaraaz hun." (Oh..so you get into fight for amusement too. Obviously, he knows that you must be upset. What's left to tell him then?)

Like i earlier said, 'Obvious' do not exist in their dictionary.

"I am really breaking up with my BF." (So what, should i fill the vacancy?)

They do not think twice before sharing anything that should not be shared at that point of time.

6). Oleeeeeeeeeeee....Babyyyyyyyyy......Awwwwwwwwww:

Buy a 'pamper' and give it to your Gf. She would tug it around your waist. I can't understand the purpose behind stretching the last word to an unbearable extent. We are not babies. Are we?

B : "I get a backache/headache."
G : "Awwwwwwwwwwwwww"
B : "My hand got Injured"
G :"oleeeeeeee baby" 
B : "I am hungry"   
G : "Ooooo, mera januuuuu bhukha hai." (Keep guessing, whether she is asking it more time or just repeating your words in Cheesy Dipped language.) 

 
7). Look straight, talk with me :

When you have your own lunch box, don't try to look for what others have in theirs. We 'Mard Jaats' are 'born-flirts' for girls.
Your GF would never allow you to look at other girls. There can be two reasons behind it:

1). It would make her feel that she is not looking as pretty as the girl you are looking at.

2). She would think that his bf is not as interested in her anymore.

"I don't like when you talk with that girl. What if i start talking to XYZ?"
(Aree ja na meri maa, Kisne roka hai.)

8). Your friends have plans to kill you. Stay with me : 

A girl can never like you to be one among the bunch of boys. She keeps a record of time which you have spent with her vs. time spent with your boys group. She can never bear the fact that instead talking to her you are boozing with your friends.

"Pee rhe hoge friends ke saath. Meri to yaad aati nhi." (Tumhare saath peeyun to accha lagega kya.)

"Be Jungli, or whatever, I don't have to say a word now." (Thank god!)

"I don't have to say a word......" Girls talk a lot after delivering this line. Beware! They are from Venus. 

This isn't enough. Going for an outing with common group of friends?? Stay within the distance of 10 cm from her. Sit beside her always, hold her hand sometime to make her believe that yes, you still like her. Don't talk with other friends beyond her limit of acceptance etc. etc.

"Jao jao, ussi ko phone karo. Tab to bda ucchal ucchal ke taali maar rhe the."

This is all. I am finding no words to close this post off formally.
So, keep visiting. Fortunately, i have a comment box below this post. Drop your views and let me know what do you think.

Thank you for being with my writing.

Hasta Luego!!!!

Boy Who polished the boots

Every morning he would sit on the farther side of road, leading to 'Ryan School'. He was a boy, hardly 9 year old, who used to polish shoes of children of that school. His boot polish store had one small carpet, few torn shoes, a steel cisterns with few pennies and a stone which acted as a raised platform where he used to put shoes to polish.
Today, there was something unusual. It was around 11.30 in morning and students were piled up for getting their shoe polished. He was quivering from one shoe to other, brushing the every bit of dirt from them with his brush and small box of 'Cherry Blossom', without knowing the reason behind such curiosity of students for getting their shoe polished.
Few minutes later, someone summoned them. There were still few left with unpolished shoes but the penny box was almost full with glittering pennies. They all ran towards the gate. After a minute or so, children came out with a large blue banner made from rayon cloth along with few others posters. It was looking like a rally as students lined on both sides of the road.
Police jeeps arrived at the spot. A policeman came to the boy.
'What are you doing here? Chal jaldi,Saamaan samet.' he threatened the boy.
Without an utter, boy folded his belongings in a wide cloth that hadn't been sewed for years, made his pocket gulp the penny box and stood by the side of 'neem' tree which was a few meter away from road's side. He was willing to see what is going on, on the most unappealing place of the world. His pocket was way heavier then it used to be on other days. He was quite sure about his meal under overhead sun and with the sum he had, he could even get food in night too.
An hour passed, students were still standing with their banners resting on ground. Suddenly their chat and buzz interrupted with several jeeps, tailing one another, and somewhere in middle of them, was a red-beacon ambassador. Students were once again on their toes, holding the banner upright. A women in white saree with maroon border came out of the ambassador with red-beacon. Children rushed to greet her and in turn she was greeting them too with a smile.
Boy was staring them all with his lid-less eyes. He couldn't listen to what the lady was saying to those children but their polished shoes were making an attempt to introduce him in the scene too. He almost forgot his heavy pocket. Minutes later, she peeped in her ambassador. Principal made his presence felt at very last moment as he gave her the good bye gesture.
Boot polisher counted the number of 'Jeeps' right passed him till 'chaar'. This is all he could count.
Blue banners held high till the crew disappeared.
'Ryan International School - We strive towards 'Right to Education' was written with silver paint, on that big blue banner.
Boy, with a boot polish store on his back, opened that steel penny-box and took out some coins. He had to buy a new 'dabba' of 'Cherry Blossom' for the next day.

Splash of Love

On the beach, I was holding sand in my palm. I slipped them and they got mingled with million others. Disappeared, Indistinguishable. "Our lives are like those sand in my palm. It slipped and we found ourselves nowhere among million other" I said.

She bent and grasped those beach sand, drenched it with the water from the bottle. Shen flipped her palm and the wet sand fell again. This time distinguishable, different from other lying nearby. We could have made our life distinct from others, but it might missed a splash of love and care.

 I asked, "Who can guess, this is we?"  pointing to those wet sand which were still lying the same way they fell.

'At least we can' she grinned.

Sea was calmly snoring. It has lost the grace it had when we were couples.  

The Only page from the diary of a lost soul

(This post does not expresses my views towards rape victims. This post has taken its shape from the instances that has been mentioned in the interview of a victim's father, published in 'Tehalka' magazine under the title "The anatomy of Rape").

They dragged me, called me a 'Ra**i'. They were ramming my body, one after the other. I was lying naked on the floor, the bruises were overpowering me as badly as they were. Hours later, my body got immune, against their every push, against the bruises i had. My muscle stopped responding and my soul too.

I woke up on the next morning. It was graveyard quietness. They left me with torn identity, torn conscience and a torn vagina. I wore my leftover pieces of clothes and came out to witness the lights of the day after whole 3 days. People were staring at me and at my leftover pieces of clothes that could barely hide anything. It didn't really matter for a 'Ran*i' who has nothing left in her body, untouched, unused.

I was watched by many people with their soul as rotten as mine. Finally, my staggering body got one shoulder. He took me home and handed me to my father.

.........................

Now it's been 8 years. The same story haunts me everyday. I was raped, several times then, by how many people, I don't know. My father lodged a case. I was interrogated several times, being asked with absurd, humiliating questions openly in court, in the presence of those smiling sinners. My own scream had made me deaf long ago. Papa has been fighting for justice for last 8 years. He has been fighting for a lost soul, a dead breathing body.  

Today, I am leaving my Papa alone.

Today, I would be dead, for the one last time.

       

Thaila

I looked at a sky-touching building on the other side of the road. A small part of horizon was hiding behind its floors. 

'Ma, I want to see that Maaal (Mall). What it looks like, I want to see. Shops, people, and my friend told me that there are restras too, I want to see all', I said to Ma while staring at that gigantic building.

'Look at that automatic 'seedhi' . I watch it every day through these glass panes. I want to go, Ma, take me there' I continued. My mother didn't turn to see what i was explaining her, instead she kept pushing me towards the other direction. Direction to 'Pali Bazaar'.

'Big people go there. Your 'sahib' , his 'baccha' 'bibi', all of them come here for shopping. It is not a 'Bazaar' for poor people.' mom replied.

Ma started mending my broken heart's wall, 'Champak seth's shop is much better than these malls. He gave you free chocolate last time. didn't he? He may give you another today'.

'I will not move. I don't want to go to that shop. We have 'Thaila', we can buy few things from Maaaal and can climb floors through automatic 'seedhi'', I kept insisting.

Ma agreed at last, and we started dragging our feet towards the Glass-monster, probably with much lesser pace than we were leaving it behind. Cars were crawling so as to make their way to parking slot and among those cars we made our way to front arena of that mall.

Scorching sun was above our head. Most of the people had their sunglasses with them to reflect the blazing sun away. People were rushing inside with almost nothing in hand but we had 'thaila' and it was a prove that it is we who actually came here to shop, not these big people. 

Ruthless 'world' again proved that I and ma can never be a bit ahead of it as within few seconds I saw a family, like our bade sahib's one, came out with dozens of 'Thailas' in their hand, the colorful ones, and those were even more exciting than my school bags. I lost my interest in our 'thaila' as it had ugly looks with an irregular color patterns and an imprinting

 "502 Pataka Chai"

 accompanied with an another imprint 

"Tan Badan mein taazgi jagaye.". 

Although i wasn't sure of what was written on those mall bags but one thing was clear, one need not to carry a bag for shopping here. 

There was a security guards standing on entry gate counting every bird crossing his head. He returned to his job as soon as we tried to sneak into stomach of that Glass-monster, ignoring him. 

'What do you want?' he asked to my mom.

People were still entering through the door behind us without any interruption. But there was a question for us. 

'Want to buy chaaclate for him' my mom replied in a murmur.

'We sell chocolate. For chaaclates go to your 'Pali Bazaar'. There is nothing for you two here.Go! Go!' he teased which was followed by a laugh by his fellow standing on exit gate saluting passing-by people on his own will.

I grabbed hand of my mom. I wanted to leave that cruel place, a place where my mom was humiliated, a place where eyes following us wondering what the people like us doing here.

I didn't look back while heading back towards Champak 'seth's' shop. I wasn't expecting chocolate from there. I just wanted to fill my mom's 'thaila'.