February 28, 2012

I hate you like I loved you!

“I hate you like I love you!”

Remember this song? They were quiet catchy lines, weren't they? Though, I deem it should have been "LOVED" instead of "LOVE". The first time I listened to this song, I remember laughing hysterically wondering how gibberish it was. It was only when I heard it for a second time that I actually thought about those lines.

Ever wondered when is that you begin to hate someone? It’s only when they do not meet your expectations or do something which you do not expect out of them. Essentially, expectation is what leads to hate. And the next question is when is it that you expect something out of a person? Its only when that person actually matters to you. One expects something only from the one they love.

Initially, when one doesn't meet your expectation, you would be disappointed. When this ordeal continues you may be agitated or left angry. Well! If you think that anger is a primary feeling, I would beg to differ. Anger, according to me is never a primary feeling like being happy or sad. Anger arises only because of being in an unhappy state or irritated state for quite some time. Anger is the way to  express the suppressed emotions. Think about it! When you are happy, you are only happy and it’s the same thing with being upset. But, it’s not the same case with anger. When you were angry and expressed it, it would never ever make you feel angrier. Based on the circumstance, it will only leave you even more disturbed or pleased.

So, now is the time I ask the question that has been making rounds in my head for some years now. What is the opposite/antonym of “LOVE”? Don’t give me the text book answer “HATE”. It cannot be since Hate exists only where Love once did. When someone says he/she hates you now, it only means they do not love you the way they did before. Why I do not approve of it is, consider: Absence of light is Darkness. Hence, Dark is antonym of Light. Likewise, Goodness is the absence of Evil. But, hate is never the absence of love. Hate is the result of something gone wrong with the one you had once shared affection.

Hence, I believe that opposite of Love is apathy. Apathy is the feeling when you are least interested in what is happening to the other. A situation when their presence or absence doesn’t actually make any difference to you. When it doesn’t matter to you as to what his current plight is or if he is actually alive or dead log back. When he could be right in front of you, but your mind fails to register that fact and he ceases to exist. That could only be the opposite of Love.

Until some days back, I thought I should be thanking those who have seen down upon me all these while or have only pointed out my negatives. Wonder why I wanted to thank all of them? Because I thought that it’s this thinking of theirs that gave me a fighting spirit and I proved them otherwise turning all the negativity to positive. But, now I know, that I don’t actually have to thank all of them. Because how much ever I would want to, it doesn’t matter to me what they think or perceive about me or anything for that matter. Their presence or absence doesn’t make a difference anymore. 

I do not see a reason to hate them because in the first place they were never worthy of Love! This way life is lot more easy.


February 22, 2012

Being Humane

“From where was I born Mamma?” asked the 5 year old Aaliya.

Her Mom smiled and pointed towards her own stomach.

Suddenly there was a question from an equally enthusiastic and innocent voice- “And me Mamma?” This was her 7 year old daughter, Khushi questioning.

The smile on her face disappeared almost instantly. She had dreaded about this day for the last 7 years. There was no day that had passed without her worrying if Khushi would now ask about it. 

The day she had adopted Khushi was when she had decided that she would never lie to her if questioned, but will reveal the truth only when asked for. Today was that day and the moment when Khushi for the first time had demanded an answer. She was astonished to realize that she couldn’t find words to answer Khushi and was mumbling instead.

“Mamma, Did I too come from the same place?” asked an innocent Khushi again.

“No” she replied kneeling down towards her daughter and tucking her long black tresses behind her ears, “You were born from my Heart”.

Today, Khushi is 18 and has herself realized the truth. She has accepted it gracefully, since it was imbibed into her in the most beautiful manner from the time she could remember.


Personally, I think that adopting a Child is one of the most humane thing one can do. It’s sad, that our society opines that only a childless couple should do this. Worse, science is so advanced today that surrogacy, artificial insemination and thousands of other ways have taken over this beautiful concept of adoption. Whenever I have had a discussion about this with people, they have approved of the idea only to the extent of imagining another adopting. It is told that it’s not easy to do justice to a kid of your own and the adopted equally.

Seriously? I don't think it is that difficult to love a kid. How does it matter whose is it?

Activity: Bhumi is one of India's largest independent youth volunteer non-profit organisation. Our volunteers work amongst orphaned and underprivileged children in Chennai, Thiruvallur, Bengaluru and Chandigarh with the aim of providing children with quality education and enable them to become responsible and productive citizens of the future. The efforts of our volunteer force consisting of over 300 students and young professionals under the age of 30 benefit over 2,500 children every year.

Details: 1. Kanini Computer literacy programme involving teaching of basic and advanced concepts based on the children's aptitude levels.
Support: Education, Children, Environmental Conservation, Mentorship
Note: Bhumi is an under-30 youth volunteer organisation, and to be able to reach out to more children, we need volunteers who can spend 2 hours every weekend to teach at an orphanage near their residence.

This post is a part of BlogAdda's Bloggers Social Responsibility (BSR) initiative. I am exercising my BSR. You can too with three simple steps. Visit http://www.blogadda.com/bsr/ and support the NGO's.

Make a difference,

February 20, 2012

Versatile Blogger Award!

Whoa! It was just yesterday that I felt empathy towards Usha Utup when she claimed that it was her first Filmfare award in 42 years. Now after 53 blogs I receive my first recognition. Well, I am not a fool to compare myself with that singing icon but it’s the comparison of the feeling of recognition. This feeling is something more than pure delight. One of the fellow blogger friends Pranita has nominated me for the versatile blogger award. I love it since this is my first award until now. Pranita, according to me is a versatile blogger herself! She writes incredible blogs most of which are really simple, wonderful and thoughtful.

I think all of you would agree with me if I said that its apparently small gestures like those sudden comments from readers and such awards that motivate all of us to keep blogging. This award came right in time because I was just accepting that my blog rates will still sink trying to catch up with the pace of life.

Now, do glance through the rules for accepting the award.
1. Nominate 15 fellow Bloggers.
2. Inform the Blogger about nomination
3. Share 7 random things about yourself
4. Thank the Blogger who nominated you.
5. Add the Versatile Blog Award picture to your blog post.

My nominees are J
·         Farida Rizwan- Discovering Myself
·         Subhorup Dasgupta- The Curious Hat
·         Rajkumar- Destination of Marvel
·         Seema- Seema’s
·         Lady Fiona- The Princess Passions
·         Sujatha Satya- Conversations
·         Mohith Udwani- Mr. Weirdo
·         Sangeeth Somakumar- Devil’s workshop
·         Deepak Karthik- Whatever it Takes
·         Kristy Kumari- American Punjabi
·         Stuti- A Grain of Sand
·         Hariharan Valady- Valady Views
·         Red- Red Handed
·         Chintan Gupta- The Blunt Blog
·         Gyan- Gyanban

And 7 random facts about me are-
  • The oldest thing I have of mine is a Gold Pendant with a blue stone within, that resembles an Eye. I wear it right from my toddler days.
  •  I love the smell of Paint and Petrol.
  •  One thing I can never ever part away with is my Freedom.
  • I love the way the wind brushes on my face when I ride.
  • When I don’t like someone, it becomes very obvious. That’s not because I am stubborn but because I cannot act otherwise or fake it.
  • The last thing I would take from anyone is an insult of any of my loved ones.
  • I do not know how to forgive. I personally believe that when one says forgive, then never ever should we complain/mention about it. Blame it on my sharp memory or unforgiving heart, I suck at that.
Thanks a ton Pranita.. I hope rest of the week will be as great as today.

Happy Blogging,

February 14, 2012

Intricate Thoughts # 4

Sculpture which shows a Man carving himself out  the rock. 

Who is a self made man according to you? I have often heard this phrase and every time it is used with reference to some celeb or an individual who has wealth that can last for generations together. Does it always have to be Rags to riches story? Can it not be someone who has attained greater success than what his original circumstances would have indicated is possible?

I opine that every individual who is successful to bring a level up in their lifestyle is self-made. A person who hasn’t relied on others but himself and succeeded in giving a better lifestyle for the next generation is self made. I do not think we should decide on who is a self made man based on the extravagant lifestyle one leads or the bank account details.

Anyone who achieves success through education, hard work and sheer will power is SELF-MADE. But, we often tend to believe in stories where luck favored a person or the opportunity fell for him from the sky without him having to even work for it. Some of the instances where I would feel one is self-made would be:

·         An uneducated construction worker, if is successful to educate his kids is “A SELF MADE MAN” for me.
·         A person who in his childhood did not get 3 times meal a day, if successfully runs a business, be it even a tea stall is “A SELF MADE MAN” for me.
·         As a kid who had to sell newspapers and then managed to get a graduation by studying in an evening college with sheer determination and his hard earned money is “A SELF MADE MAN” for me.

Now, who is a self- made person according to you is for you to decide.


February 2, 2012

Confessions of a Benefactor!

The sound of a metal hitting another awakened her as she lay across the footpath in close proximity to the railway station. Gradually, she turned around, moving aside the elongated plastic sheet with which she had been covering and shielding herself from the biting cold. She looked much older than her age. The Grayed uncombed hair, poor eyesight, stained teeth all made her look just like any other beggar.  Despite finding that someone had offered money there was never a change in her facial expression because she very well knew that with whatever little money lay in the plate before her, she would have to fill her stomach may be for the next one day or two or three.

When she was about to leave to arrange for food, she heard yet another clunking noise of the coin. Now, it was a man in his late 40’s accompanied by his family had offered her money. He was the same man who had been offering her `2 every single day for the past 2 weeks. Looking at his family as they struggled to cross the street for the first time in years she smiled. As she saw his little daughters, she wished a better life for them. She hoped that they will be taught things appropriately and are educated unlike her. After all she too once had the same innocence this kid now has. She too used to be happy and smiled always. Now she wondered where in time had she gone wrong.

Being the eldest in the family of eleven children, she was always asked to be caring towards her younger siblings. Whenever she was cranky, her parents had taught her that girls will have to listen to everything that’s told and cannot question. That was the first lesson she had learnt which she now realized was completely erroneous. As she grew up, she and her sisters weren’t allowed to go to school since it was sermonized that girls are only supposed to take care of chores at home. She now remembered that when she was all of nine and had craved for a pair of bangles she saw in a village fair, she was again told by her mother that girl’s cannot have wishes or expectations. She then acknowledged the fact that she had to be happy if her Father gets it but can never ask for it herself.  By the age of nine, things she knew was that she should never question, had to oblige to anything expected from her and couldn't have desires as well.

Sitting there she could now reminisce how uncomfortable she had felt to be in that heavy red lehenga when she was 11.  But she was asked not to be petulant since that was what every girl wore for her wedding. Even though it was crystal clear that she did not want to leave the house, her parents had convinced her that she would be happy in her new home. She wondered then as to why was she supposed to go to his house and why can he not come after all he was 25, big enough to help her father at work. But then she was influenced when it was said that her husband would look after her very well provided she always obeyed him. So, as expected from her all she did throughout was just do what was told but her husband had proved to be otherwise. Moreover, she had agreed only because her father had assured her that since her husband was better off financially she wouldn’t have to indulge in any daily chores and would get to have lavish food every day. Now, she thought that she had trusted her father but then why was she treated like any other maid in her husband’s house.  Long ago, when her parents had told her that they would visit her often at her new place she had the confidence in them, but later she hardly heard from them.

In place of her parents now was her husband, whose words she had to take note of. Two years later, when she had felt something unusual about herself, she was persuaded that she was simply nerve-racking. Having had no choice again she had believed those words, only to give birth to her son later, at an age when she should have been playing around herself.  Her husband had told her that their life will be beautiful then on; about which she had not a single doubt in her mind. After all, her mother had advocated to her that husband was to be treated equal to God since they would take care of the entire family.

By the time she was twenty, she knew something was awfully wrong. Inspite of being used to her husband being drunk all these years, she sensed something different. But, she would never question as that was the one of the initial lessons she had learnt to not ask. Within months, her husband’s character was the talk of the village, but just like her parents had told her she had never dared to doubt him. She could now recollect that; that unfortunate day was just like any other evening since she had finished cooking dinner, bathed her son, drew water from the well and waited for her husband to return. But he did not. She waited another day, another week, a month, a year never knowing that she would have to a whole lifetime. 

Why? She had wondered a million times by now. She had done everything as it was told to her. Since, she was a girl child; she had never questioned and had obeyed every single order that came her way. She was always told that she would have a better life after wedding, but why didn’t that happen? Why did her parents not keep in touch with her after her wedding, even though they had promised her? Why didn’t her husband fulfill his promise of keeping her happy? Most of all, why did he not love her in return?

After he had abandoned her, she struggled to bring up her only son. She worked in fields and in Zamindar’s houses. Finally, she had the nerve to move to a city when a lady from the village promised her better work in the town close by. Here, she got a job of a construction worker and enrolled her son to a school nearby as advised by her supervisor.

Years had passed, and now she had got into another routine in life when one sudden day all hell broke loose. Her son had believed all the stories told by people around and questioned her about his father. She failed to understand as to why did he not accept that his Father had indeed abandoned them. Meanwhile, she had also realized that he had qualms on how did she earn money to raise him. The irony was that unlike her who believed all of what her parents told, her son did not trust her at all. She wondered why was it so different, tried clearing up all his uncertainty until an ill-fated day struck. Just like years before, she was now deserted by her son leaving her to fend for herself.

Today, years later it had been two continuous weeks that she was seeing him. He was the one who offered her money every day. Somewhere she knew that she was beyond recognition by now and had decided that she would only bless him and never question. What she did not know was that she was committing another blunder by deciding to leave rest of her life by trusting that her son hated her just because he had told it once on that wretched day.  And here he was now searching for his mother after learning the truth but will have to spend his entire life only with a hope.

The day she breathes her last would mark a beginning of a life of regret for him since the hope he now has will only pass away with her....

Real photo of a beggar lady who smiles always inspite of having nothing.
I bet you just felt how fortunate you are!