The Death of a Glass

I had a red plastic tumbler, the ones you get free with a meal at Mc Donalds. It was with me for the last three years. When objects stay with you for a long time, they become your symbols, start to redefine your style and taste. I don’t remember using it for drinking anything as such. Me n D had got two of these and we kept one each. She used to use hers to keep her kajals and liner on the dressing table in our room in A’bad.
After moving to my hostel room in delhi, I put it to a similar use, more for keeping knick-knacks. Then I found a more beautiful use for it. My boyfriend gave me these red carnations which elevated the status of my red tumbler to that of a vase. Though the red carnations never really got a fair chance in flaunting their beauty in this red thing, it still served a purpose. Maybe next time I’ d have had him get me lighter ones. Now that its gone, I have it in front of me so I’ll describe it. It had a nice cute shape, ergonomic for good grip and right size. It’s funny that now it’s almost become useless to me, I am writing down the good features of it, after giving it so much thought. This, I feel , is the irony of the way our mind works. We never realize the worth of something or some one until we lose it/ her/ him.
It has bad crack which will prevent any liquid to be stored in it. I can’t crib or cry over it because I know it was an accident and that too by someone I love. He tried to mend it, but sometimes its too late to mend any cracks. Why can’t we stop the mean cracks from coming up in the first place. There’s something called prevention. So why let the cracks happen and then put our energies in fixing them up. Sounds so simple but when it comes to growing distances between people, stopping cracks from creeping up is as Herculean as swimming against the tide. I don’t know what should be done but God, I hate cracks. Even if you fill them up, they leave a mark, scar something forever, menacing reminder that things are not the same as before even if you tried hard.
D an I also had our crack mending phase. Now I am trying to mend another one.

The Battle Within

The Human mind is very complex. R keeps telling me that. Not that she is wrong but how many times while arguing with someone do we realize that it is the main reason why the chaos is creeping up in the first place. I say humans are emotional people and half the times keep tugging at what side to take: it’s the eternal inner conflict I guess. Whose side to take when the opposite poles of logic and emotion play around with you, tossing your poor self like a TT ball, striking with a smash any minute. The tormenting Ping-ponging causes rifts between people as while one is busy justifying that heart thinks right, the other is hell bent on logic. The great ironical joke is when in an argument even I find myself changing sides. Either of the states is not absolute. Music is created when both the parties are in the same state which could be either emotional or practical. The cacophonic situation is obviously when they are on opposite states and to top the screeching noise, they may change gears, shift form on to other and the other one compensates by swinging in the contradictory one. The big question is: How does one know what to do to prevent the ear drums form getting damaged.

I like to believe that I am a practical person but I also advocate emotions as the true key to bliss. I am contradicting myself. I used to tell someone I love that when you listen to your heart, you are left with no regrets at least and have the satisfaction of doing what you wanted. I still stand by it though there are times when emotions, if allowed to rule over, can tie you down. Maybe its better to put it as: emotions are good but you should give in only a much to them as which does not come in the way of what your aim has always been. Emotions can make one lose the focus. They deceive you into believing that whatever you do under their influence will be the best for you. It’s not always so. I am floating in the honey jar of one emotion presently and one part of me wants to stay back there while the other one wants to get out and do the other things that make me happy. I’ll let you know which side wins.

The City of creeps

The weather is beatiful in delhi these days. Very unlike this city of extremes. Not just in weather, the city seems to be a hub of extremists. Where it doesnt take more than 30 seconds for people to take to fist fights on the road, the breeze is way too calming right now. Its really pissing off when I come to think of it. I have commuted in public transport in quite a few prominent cities like chennai, bangalore, bombay but the filth in the eys of a bus user in delhi beats that of a rapist even in a masala bollywood movie. It doesnt matter if its broad day light or a crowded place, no place is really safe. Twilight is the warning call i feel.Despite this, thousands of women use the buses, chagdas everday. The metro is reltaively decent owing to the gentry that blends well with tis plush feel. I have always wondred : why is delhi so shitty for a woman to wlak around alone in? One theory I came across was the anger or the frustration content in the common man here. He is either a migrant from Bihar, run away from his own misfitting in the power struggle there or from Punjab , escaped long ago from there due to the increasing terrorism. He just wants to get back at life, at what all happened to his land and the poeple. It is not a rare act by road corssers in Delhi to deliberately block a car's way. Sometimes i feel they are out there just to trouble those who've made it better than them in life. The problem they have in repecting women is mammoth. Its as of the human in them has died long ago and the animal is out on the streets. The number of rape cases is the most in Delhi among the metros, the crime rate is also high. I don't know what should be done of these people other than using pepper sprays and stun guns on them.
Just felt like writing about it. Its been a very long time that i have travelled in buses here unescorted.