Sunday is my favourite day of the week. Waking up late, having breakfast even later, reading through all the newspapers, I love my Sunday rituals. Today on the way back home from breakfast I saw the most despicable sight that ruined my Happy Sunday mood. On the main road of a busy intersection I saw a decently dressed woman lift her little daughters frock and let the child go pee pee on the MAIN ROAD in front of so many people. I saw this and I was ashamed for the place I come from. It doesn’t matter how you dress and from what kind of a “respectable” society you come from, if you don’t have civic sense, or just common sense, it just shows undeveloped you are as a human.
Thanks to this lady and her daughters inability to control her bladder, my day was officially ruined. Or so I thought.
So as we were driving back, me belting out a monologue on how human society has fallen and my brother barely listening, I saw a sight that cooled my senses. The pretty yellow trees all over my neighbourhood have such a soothing effect on me. I felt really happy at that moment. There may be people present in the world who blot the Earth with their ungratefulness but the Earth doesn’t do tit for tat. She repays you back with beauty for your eyes and a cool shade.
This also one of the reasons why I love Madras. She shows me terrible things but also presents me with something beautiful and in a weird, mostly illogical way, I’d like to think a balance is achieved.

The Day The Earth Refused To Stand Still

It was an off day yesterday what with the earthquake and everything. I was glued in front of the television dreading the after effects. Alhamdulillah, everything was okay. Except this news reader on CNN who deserves an Oscar award for his performance in “The Tsunami Will be Approaching Any Minute Now”. It is distasteful that the media wants to sensationalize situations like this. But I do not expect anything less from CNN.
Natural calamities like these are just a reminder to us that there is someone who is in control of everything. It is a reminder of the Last Day. It is a sign to tell us humans that the future is never in our hands. At times like this it really irks me that people go on Facebook and write “Earthquake! So cool!”, “Too bad I missed it!”. I mean, really? Why don’t you spare a moment to think about those who have been previously affected by it and are hence, scared out of their wits? Remember, it’s just that one second that separates the “coolness” from the possible destruction of your life and everything you know.
One thing I have to agree though, I check Facebook to confirm if the earthquake really happened. Even dedicated news sites do not update fast enough.
Today is a beautiful day albeit a bit humid. thanks to the weather. But I’m happy to be alive. Okay, you may think I’m over exaggerating all this but really, imagine if things ended badly yesterday, today would be the most depressing day even though the sun is bright and the skies are bluer than I’ve ever seen them. So thanks God, for just the trailer and not the main picture. I owe you one  many.

Summer Wind

If there is one thing Madras totally owns, it’s summer. Complain all you want about the heat, sweat and power cuts but you know that Madras is in her best during this season. Summer is for lazy afternoons spent watching movies on Sun TV. It’s when fruit sellers spring up in every street corner selling luscious mangoes and gorgeous watermelons. Summer is when you can see the trees proudly displaying their flowers. Thank God for the old Madras corporation/people who have planted bouganvillas and flame of the forest on every street.
I become very nostalgic during summer. The best parts of my childhood were spent making the most of what little I had and now that I’m all “grown up” I feel that longing for a simpler time when I didn’t have to think about the future and take life changing decisions. All I thought about was when the elani man will come and if there is enough porri urundai to share with my friends.
I know this is all a part of growing up but I just want to stop for minute and take a breather. It’s hard to accept that the most carefree days of our lives are over. Only a few weeks in to this blazing season and already my stress levels are haywire. 
In the midst of all the craziness that surrounds me I just want to give a big non-physical hug to a very beautiful, very special girl who means the world to me. All I want to tell you is to keep the faith and just soldier on. There are so many wonderful things ahead of you once you get past all the darkness. I want you to know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and its the brightest, most blindingly awesome light that you’ve ever seen. Just know that I love you irrespective of how many people you are. You are the kindest, smartest person I know. Big things are going to happen in your life. I just know it. You are the kind of person that deserves all the good that comes their way. Just know that I love you and I will forever be your bum chum.
I know how depressed you are so I’m sending some sunshine your way. Remember, the sky is not the limit. 

The interwebz is weird, you guys.

The internet is full of weirdos and perverts. There were a bunch of people who searched  for ‘komanam pictures’ and the search led them to my blog. Come on guys! I do not have ‘komanam pictures’ neither do I have pictures of ‘girls in komanam’. So if you are reading this, you pervert, you need to get off the computer right now and go get a life.
Also, why would anyone search for ‘tirunelveli rowdies’? I’m from there and I assure you not all of us are like that. And to the person who is searching for ‘aruval pictures’, yeah, you need help.

February = Not a bore because my friend said so.

February is such an uninspiring month. The only thing remotely good about this month is that extra one day that adds to your misery every four years. It is for this reason alone that February puts too much scene. If it wasn’t for this leap year issue it would be one of the mokkaiest months of the year.

February was boring but I had one super filter kaapi after so long. Honestly, the best coffee in the world isn’t Starbucks or some fancy espresso shot. It isn’t “kold koffee” either. Just changing some letters doesn’t make it good. The best coffee in the world is Madras filter kaapi.

You ask, “Filter kaapi?”.
I say, ” Idhu Bru Ma!”.
*cue laughter*

OkByePa.

Scar.

A couple of days back I woke up to read a disturbing article in the newspaper. A 19 year old sales girl from Chennai was gang raped by boys who were her “friends”. One of the boys, her classmate from school, had asked her to accompany him to visit another friend of theirs who had apparently taken ill. This unsuspecting girl went with the boy to the friends house only to realize that the boy wasn’t ill and was in the company of four other boys. They offered the girl a drink and after a few sips she realized that something was wrong with it. They forced her in to drinking and when she became unconscious the boys repeatedly raped her. By the time she regained consciousness they dropped her off at her house. The next day the girl was suffering from extensive bleeding and was taken to a Government hospital. The doctors informed her mother that it was a clear case of rape and asked her to file a complaint with the police.
On February 9th three cases of rape took place at the same night in Delhi. In the first incident, a 13 year old girl  was abducted and raped by a 30 year old man because she did not accept his Facebook request. In the second incident a 17 year old girl was kidnapped and was sexually abused in car while continuously roaming the streets  The accused was  a relative of hers. In the third case a 17 year old girl was walking back home from work with her friends was forced in to a car and kidnapped. Her friends who tried to fend off the kidnappers were assaulted. This girl is yet to be traced.
In Delhi, a constable was arrested for molesting an under age girl in a slum area. In Kolkatta a man was mercilessly beaten to death for a lodging a compliant againt some men who were sending obscene MMSes to his college-going daughter.
All these events took place this month. It makes me wonder if India is really a safe place for women. None of these girls asked to be raped. They were from working class backgrounds trying to find some means to an end.
I feel that men do not understand the extent of their actions. Most of these assaults are done just for momentary pleasure or it is seen as a way to take revenge on the girl. Sexual abuse is prevalent everywhere. I’m sure that almost every girl has experienced abuse/molestation of some kind. I’m talking of the smallest cases of molestation, a sneaky hand in a crowded area, an intended brush across the body. Sometimes abuse takes place at home, by someone who is in the family. The trauma that a victim of sexual abuse goes through is indescribable. It may be just a moment to experience pleasure for men but for the victim the after effects of this carries on through out her life, more often than not ruining future relationships.
Take for instance the girl from Chennai, she has been through so much mentally. It would be no surprise if in the future she does not trust any man. She may become skeptical of every person she meets and every relationship she has.
What are we doing to protect  India’s women? On one side we are advocating for the girl child. Educating people to not kill their daughters. On the other side there is rape and molestation at every corner. If this is how the country is going to be then the murdered daughters of India are better off in their graves.
As a country we seem to have lost our morals somewhere down the line. We have forgotten to care for whats right. We seem to have such a ‘take it in your stride’ attitude about everything. If the girl is raped or molested the blame game begins and all fingers are pointed towards the victim for “tempting” the man. I do not disagree that man is wired differently but because of this reason it his responsibility to keep himself in  check. There are stories of men molesting small children and pre-adolescent kids. “Temptation” does not play its part here. Abusing children is probably the most cowardly, most despicable and demeaning act there is.
It irks me to see that we aren’t taking issues like these seriously. But if a minister is caught watching porn in the assembly then that becomes front page news and every news channel worth its salt replays the video for days. Schools and colleges need to educate their students on these lines. They need to create awareness starting from the lower classes. The earlier children know about these things the easier it would be for them to understand how wrong it is when someone misbehaves with them. Schools need to have counselors who can help them in understanding what is wrong and whats right. As a society we are still shy to talk about this subject. We want to push it under the carpet and act like it doesn’t happen. But we need to open our eyes and accept reality. We need to be broad minded enough to not blame it on the victims. Parents need to explain this to their children.
As much as we want it to be, the world is not a happy, shiny place. It is dark, scary and like it or not we are vulnerable creatures.
These two issues are really close to my hear and it pains me to read news stories like this almost every day. I cannot imagine the angst the victim goes through. There can be no compensation for going through such a tough ordeal. Money cannot make the scars go away. Rehab and counselling can only do that much. Beyond that it is entirely up to the strength the person has to block the images, grit their teeth and move on acting like life is a happy place when at the bottom of their heart they know that things can never be the same again.

Happy Burdayy You

It’s the anniversary of the blog today. It’s been three years since I started this. I should have come far. I should have written more. But for reasons I cannot fathom I haven’t come as far as I wanted to. The past year has been pretty disappointing. I was stuck in a rut and refused to budge. But everyday I am easing myself out of it bit by bit. Who knows, this year might be the year that I have many stories to tell. Actually, I always have stories to tell but words really evade me at times. This time I promise to try harder, to be better.
I celebrated the by eating cupcakes a couple of days before. I can never turn down dessert. Especially small, sinfully chocolaty, creamy cakes. The Cupcake Company has opened shop in Anna Nagar. I suggest you try it out.

On Beauty, Zadie Smith

I picked up Zadie Smith’s ‘On Beauty’ while browsing through the aisles in the British Council for the sole reason that the cover called out to me. I confess, I judge a book by its cover. There is no denying that one is attracted to a book by the cover. ‘On Beauty’ had a pretty vine and flowers theme with a black background. The front cover said, ‘Nominated For The Man Booker Prize’. If it is nominated for an award then it can’t be that bad, right? Right.
The book talks a lot about ‘art’. If there is one thing I do not understand it is art. Although ‘art’ is used as a backdrop it talks a lot about ‘family’ and that is one thing I do understand. Smith talks about two families, each following their own set of beliefs, each defining morality in their own special way. Howard is the most liberal-est liberal there is and Monty is a conservative, to the public. Both are each others greatest critics. Howard is ashamed of his son, Jerome, a staunch Christian who lives in his fathers house but prefers the Monty way of life. To add fuel to the fire, Jerome falls in love with Victoria, Monty’s daughter. In the midst of this drama Levi, Howard’s youngest befriends the wrong crowd and Zoe, his daughter, fights for the cause of a boy who ultimately disappoints her.
Meanwhile, Howard ruins his relationship with his wife of twenty years, Kiki, by cheating on her with an old friend. Kiki is devastated. But what is interesting is the way she reacts to it. She doesn’t make a scene and throw him out of the house. She lets him stay under the same roof, for the sake of her children, she says. But the real reason is that she loves him too much. Is it really possible to continue to love someone whom you’ve known for so many many years after they have committed the most unmistakable act of cheating? But she does, not in the most obvious way. This is a woman who has sacrificed her thoughts and her beliefs for the man she loves. She accepted his beliefs like they were her own. Howard comes across as a selfish person. He is so obsessed with his ideals and does not lend a ear to what the next person thinks. He is also a hypocrite. He thinks one thing but does something else. He holds a lot of importance to what he feels. All in all I found him a very difficult character. To read and to fall in love with.
It is intersting how Smith defines each character and gives each of them their own battle to fight. Every character in the book has their own ideals. They beleive in it so strongly that nothing can shake them. I did not understand the art. The liberal vs conservative battle did not interest me. What caught my fancy was the family dynamics. Parents work so hard to pass on their ideals to their children without realizing that they have their own dreams. But once the children learn to fight for what they believe in, parents feel like they’ve lost their control.
Why do we really love the people we love? And how far we willing to forgive someone even after they cross the point of no return? Zadie Smith understands the nuances of family. She writes so beautifully about life and its loves. The difficulties Kiki faces with her children and with decisions she has to make are so relateable.  The book also deals a lot with female body issues. That part spoke out so clearly to me that I am saving it for another post.
I genereally do not like movies and books that do not have a definite end. For example, books that end with a puzzling situation or in the case of movies, like in Inception when everyone was arguing whether the totem stopped spinning or not. I’d like a proper ending to anything. I’m not a fan of “let’s leave it to the audience to interpret it”. But the last chapter of this book did just that and in a way I found myself liking it.
‘On Beauty’ is, for the lack of a better word, a beautiful book.  Zadie Smith is now one of my top favorite writers.
Four years of exams, stress, assignments and depression later I’ve finally got a certificate to prove that I am an Engineer. I never thought this day would come. I never though I’d actually be this happy. But yes, God has been so unbelievably good to me. 
I finally got to wear the rented coat/gown thing with a red sash around my neck that thankfully did not clash with my outfit. There was no graduation cap, unfortunately. But then after I received my degree there was one photographer waiting who pushed me into a corner, slapped a graduation cap on my head and took a picture before I could realize whats happening. And he charged me two hundred rupees for it! All this happened in a matter of minutes. The photo reached my house yesterday. I look like a chubby deer caught in the headlights. 
Before the actual graduation ceremony began we had to ‘rehearse’ for it. Basically all of us just had to run across the stage. I just prayed that when my turn came to walk on to the stage and get my degree I don’t trip and fall on my face. Thankfully I did not do that. But right before my turn came the stupid straps on my stupid heels came undone and I limped across the stage and ambushed the boy in front of me.
I still remember the first day of college and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I know its just one degree and there are thousands of Engineers out there, most who even deserve it, but for me this really is an accomplishment. I just hope that from now on I get to do something I really like. 
Here’s to better things to come!

Jest For Jolly

I cannot believe how cold Madras has become. The mornings are so chilly. This is something unheard of here. By ten o’clock though, the sun comes out in full blast. These extremes are ruining my already wonderful skin. Nights are even colder. I used to make fun of my mother for wearing socks to bed. Now I sleep with the fan turned low and snuggle in to my purple quilt. The only thing keeping me warm is my new awesome Angry Birds sweatshirt that The Brother so lovingly got me. It’s so big! And soft! Perfect for the weather.

He also got me an iPhone and this post is a test run on the Blogger app. Hopefully, this will motivate me to blog more.

Okay I have to go wash the henna off my head but before I do I want to ask you, do you l know what the Tamiil version of Angry Birds is called?

Ans : Jangry (jangri) Birds!

Yes, I’m not called Mokkaisamy for no reason.