WRINKLED LIFE

She opens her eyes on a cold bed

The walls around painted in white

A picture hanging on the right of a little boy smiling bright

A grilled window lets the sunshine in

Trying in vain to erase the darkness in her life

She looks at the calendar on the stand

And stops the tears from finding its way out

If she could just hear the sound of her boy

And tell him she could still bake his birth day cake tonight.

The morning seems unwelcoming and the nights dark n long

A bruised heart stamped and stabbed yet crammed with hope

She walks slowly carrying the burden of a secret stone

Quivering in between, wishing for her only support to take her back

She walks bare foot on the green grass

But why was everything she saw having the glint of black

She sees a girl in the distant

Twirling around with her baby in her hand

Flashback haunts, and it’s more than she could withstand.

What wrong had she done

Had she ever left him stranded in the streets alone?

Had she ever left his hands and left him under the wings of doom?

It’s true that some questions have no answer.

She looks at the gate yet one more time

They said it had changed into a daily worship

Eyes vacant with tears but filled with hope

That her boy might take her back

This Post has been Published as a part of

IT HAPPENS ONLY IN INDIA

As seen inside an ATM. Couldn't stop myself from clicking it while withdrawing the Money. :P

THE TWEEZER

There are so many moments in your life which you treasure. Some you sadly drag along as you move and some you happily remember. Then there are some memories which where painful then, but when you look back at it, its not tormenting anymore but actually make you laugh.

But I have one such incident which still gives me a “PAIN ON MY ANKLE” (literally). You remember the teenage days, where you just want them to let you out and give you the grown up treatment which you think you deserve.

So this happened around five years back. It’s been 2 yrs since I bid adieu to my teeny years. After stepping out of my school I was feeling grown up and mature (it’s a whole different topic if I really was. Even now it’s my 12 yr old brother who is more matured than me). I wanted to take my two-wheeler for a long distance trip, chalked out by the girls. I pouted, made some puppy faces, gave some dimpled smiles and some cute words and my dad fell for it. Mom yet again blamed dad for falling for it. I took the Activa, put on the gloves, summer coat ( mommy doesn’t want tan to touch me you see ) helmet and started on with the journey. Two other friends driving just behind me. Back in those days all you want to do is prove to your dad that you’re an adult now. So for the first time in my life I drove below 40 km/hr and was enjoying the city passing behind me. Suddenly this monkey of a person decides to take a left turn and without any indicator he just took the turn and crashed into me. I tried my level best to avoid the scene.

He crashed, I fell, and I dint feel any pain. The only pain that I felt was in my head. The anger bubbling within. The thought of how to tell my parents that I had an accident. They would never believe it when I say that it wasn’t my fault. I pulled my leg out from under the vehicle and marched towards him and started screaming at him from under my helmet. I was looking like an astronaut. My friends just gawked at me. The rear view mirror was broken and I wanted it mended. The police came and I wanted no scene, so I grabbed some money from that monkey to repair my Activa and fled from the spot. Again I started driving the beaten up bike. The wind was cooling me down but something warm was flowing down my ankle. I was hurt and suddenly it started burning. We stopped at the petrol station and I looked at my ankle. While I had pulled out my leg from under my bike to go and scream at the guy I had hurt myself. There was a deep cut and no skin left on the side of my right ankle. I washed my leg and I laughed because it pained (I laugh when it’s paining and people are around). All I was thinking about was repairing the bike. We again drove and finally got the active back in position.

We dropped the trip and headed back home. The news was given to my mom who started looking all over my body for bruises with award winning words coming from her mouth. Dad was silent. My brother least bothered went to look for scratches on the bike. Granny went to make Ayurvedic coffee for me. So much drama !!

Now I am a girl who hates injections and I did not find a need for tetanus. I am the most stubborn girl you would ever come across. I bandaged myself and continued to be myself. After about four days I felt an itchy and tingly feeling inside my bandage. I decide to open it up. After all it was just a deep scratch. The vision was just AMAZING. The wound was looking bigger and a white scum like thing was on it. I freaked out and passed the freaking out to mom who further freaked dad out too. All the freaking out came back to me in terms of words of mouth. We visited the doctor and he told me that I need to be operated. So I gave him a smile and a “fuck off” stare and limped out. Doctor number two said it just needs cleaning and fresh bandage and some medicine to go with it. I was happy with the option and went back home.

Ten days passed and I got twice cleaned and bandaged. Now I was sure that the next time I go I be back to the pavilion. So I am all happy and limp back to the doctor for the last time as he promised me. I sit on the hospital bed and mommy the sweetest stands beside me and my brother the smartass stands outside the door. The nurse opens the bandage and takes a good look at it and smiles at me. He tells me that I am recovering well. I am all smiling and happy baby. I look at mom and wink and turn my glance back at the doctor. And this was the moment I froze to my seat!!

I see him moving towards my wound with the tweezers. I inch back and demand an explanation. The nurse tells me that he needs to scrap the white scum like skin out of my wound because it’s infectious. I stare at him and my tongue goes dry and I want to pee. My mother looks sad but tells me that I have to allow them do their work. I give in and close my eyes. How painful can it be? Not that much. It’s just some dead skin. I will laugh if it pains and I be fine.

OUCHHHHHH..it hurts. I open my eyes and I wince. I pull my hair, I curse the bastard of a nurse. ‘’You swine!!!! Get away’’. To help me where some popular hindi insults. “Saalaaaaa maar dale ga kya be…abe gadheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”. I bite my lips and tears roll down. I scream at him “Gadheee doctor ko bula…saaale ulluuuuu.. mooooooooooooooooooom”. I look at mom and she is actually laughing at me. I scream at her to which she replies “If you where me looking at the way you are cursing the poor guy, you would laugh”. Lovely!!!! I look for some pity in the eyes of my brother and I see him dragging my driver near the door to see the performance I am giving. They all look amused!!!

Bloody fucking hell! The world is full of mean people!

Finally the ordeal is over and I am bandaged again. The doctor comes and smiles at me and I gift him a cold stare and a biiiiiiiiiig “DHANYAVAAD JEE”. I took an oath never to see his face ever again. Later on my way back mommy the ‘not so sweet anymore’ buys me ice-cream and holds my hand. I ask her again why she laughed, to which she answered

“All this is nothing when compared to the pain I got while delivering you. You would know when you go through it”

What an answer!!!!

CAUGHT ON CAMERA

Location-Delhi
Photographer-ME :D
 

                           

                    I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I can be a woman in it.

 

The Flower Market at its very best for DIWALI

On the way to India Gate.....The Balloon Man!

 

To his dog, every man is Napoleon. There is no faith which has never yet been broken, except that of a truly faithful dog.  ~Konrad Lorenz

The Stalls in and around RED FORT...

                          There's nothing like good food, good wine, and a bad girl. 
                                                              The kebabs!!!

Pani Poori...Needs no more explanation!!!

Red Fort and the Yawning Sun...

If there exists no God, It is necessary to Invent him.

You watch my back....and i watch yours!!

WALKING ON GLASS

I have been trying to find a perfect way to describe a woman. Every woman goes through these patches of sorrow and troubles, been looked down upon, being segregated, said to be week and emotionally frail. I have been having bad day today and i bumped into this beauty of a poem. Written by MAYA AGNELOU. Have a read.

STILL I RISE

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

MURDER AND MORE

This blog has no aspect of entertainment in it. But if you are bored or want to be a future serial killer or want to commit suicide keep reading ( I will be telling you a method to commit suicide towards the end).

Well today was Forensic Science day for me. In the earlier classes we have been fed with a series of lessons of wisdom (duh!!) about Death, fingerprints, suicide, murder, different types of death, blah blah, yada yada yada, I don’t give a fuck and so on. Today was another such yawning class and the topic was INJURY. Had I been the usual me, sitting in the back bench, with the company of my mobile phone and the snacks in my bag I wouldn’t have had any problem in cutting time. But here I was forced to sit in the front bench with another classmate who definitely has this strong ability to get on my nerves. So I sat their looking at my nails, the hair peeping out of my professor’s nose, and trying to say A-Z backwards. Suddenly I here some girls behind me giggling, joined by some so called males a.k.a she-males of my class (I have no reason to call them males if they don’t behave so). I leave my daydreaming behind and try to find out what’s the fuss all about. The topic of discussion was BITE MARK and there was a slide photo of a buttock with a deep bite mark. This was the reason of the giggle. The professor persisted the girl who started it all, to share the joke with him and when she couldn’t find any way out, she blurted it out “ Sir, I was just asking ummm thinking as to what is the difference between a bite mark and a….a……..a……love bite”. The professor of age above 60, if was surprised or was uncomfortable did not show even a tinge of it. He coolly said “though I have no personal experience, I would be happy to clarify your doubt.’’ He continued by telling us that a love bite is as a result of violet kissing.Love-bite is a temporary bruise or mark caused by kissing, sucking or biting the skin forcefully enough to burst blood vessels beneath the skin.

The term hickey (hicky, or hickie) is often applied to a love-bite on the neck area.But a bite mark is the result of the usage of teeth and not necessarily in a loving manner. Bite marks are usually found on a rape victim or in homicidal cases where the victim bites the accused to escape from him or where the accused bites the victim while raping her.

A case he told about requires special mention here. The case is called the TED BUNDY case. There is no definitive agreement on when and where Bundy began to rape and killing women. Bundy refused to give details on when and where he committed his first murder, even when confessing to over 30 murders within 3 yrs immediately prior to his execution. During one his homicidal frenzy, Bundy bit Lisa Levy (a victim) in her left buttock, leaving obvious bite marks. Police took plaster casts of Bundy's teeth and a forensics expert matched them to the photographs of Levy's wound. Bundy was convicted on all counts and sentenced to death for the murders. Ted Bundy was electrocuted by the state of Florida at 7:16 a.m. on January 24, 1989. Just one bite mark led him into electrocution.

Now like I promised, I would tell you a method to suicide. The interesting thing about this sinister technique is that it uses none of the traditional gory weapons like firearms or daggers, nor does it use poisons. The murder device is quite simply and surprisingly air, which is so harmless and ubiquitous. It is almost unbelievable that such an innocuous looking thing as air could kill someone. Actually air or for that matter anything in this universe can kill a person, if it is wrongly placed in a human body. This case is also a similar case. In this case air gets ensconced in a place where it normally shouldn't be! Such cases are technically known as cases of "air embolism". About 200 c.c. of air is required to kill a person by air embolism. Take in 200 cc of air into a syringe and inject it into your veins. When such an injection is given, the air bubbles start travelling towards the right atrium (right side of the heart). From right atrium they keep travelling onwards till they come to the lung. Here the capillaries are too narrow to allow the big bubbles to pass. The result is that these bubbles get entangled in the blood vessels of the lung. The whole blood traffic stops and the person dies very quickly. The beauty of the technique lies not only in its simplicity but also in another thing-the difficulty of detection of this condition at post-mortem examination. When a person dies of air embolism, the only abnormal thing that is there within his body is a bubble of air somewhere in his blood vessels. If the forensic pathologist is not careful, the bubble would vanish the moment the body is opened.

Know the blog is small (as if you cud tolerate it anyway) but sleep haunts me! Much love!! Gudnight!

THE HAPPENING

This weekend was a result of lack of options. When the options before you seem bizarre and stale or not worth it you turn to your last resort and in my case it was visiting my Grandparents place. It’s a place called PANDALAM, usually pronounced by me as PAADALAM. Blame my utter nonsensical knowledge of the language or my lame tongue. Well continuing, it’s a place where my Lord AYYAPPAN was bought up. I have no clue where he was born. It’s the jungles nearby I suppose. Blame my eccentric knowledge about my religion. So the Lord was born (somewhere), was found by the king of PANDALAM and bought to his palace and was raised their. That’s the only reason I proudly tell people where my momma is from. The Palace with its THIRUVAABHARANAM (jewels and ornaments) kept and guarded safely within and the place where he learnt his archery and so it goes on. Pardon my ignorance. As a kid I was not much of a story listener nor did I ever like the subject History during my school times.

 Anyways this weekend was a total getaway but the starting was a little smudged. The usual 2 hours journey to the destination from Ernakulam is 2 hours max but due to the so called construction work going on it got stretched to a mighty 7 hour journey. The train was stinking and the water got over under mysterious circumstances (this is where I blame the Government). But to make my journey more entertaining or in other word hair pulling where the famous for their pervert thoughts the locals (Mind it!! IYAM AE MALAYALEE)

The worst part is where a woman is being teased by a man and no one will bother to help her out of the situation. But they are ready with their comments and lame jokes ones the situation has been dealt by her in her own way.

So I am busy listening to some music and gawking outside the window when this old man (old enough to be my grandfather’s father) comes and sits in front of me. He acts like he is looking outside but his tiny beady eyes are hooked on me. He is staring big time and not moving his eye even after I m showing a sign of disgust. Suddenly he points at the half empty lays packet beside me and I give a “protective about my chips” look. After about five minutes he wants to buy my sandal that too just one of them. What on earth does he need it for? The conversation goes like this

FRUSTRATED OLD JERK- Ennique oru cheripu vikkyuvo? (will u lemme buy one of your pair of sandal)

ME- Enthu (what?)

FRUSTRATED OLD JERK- Oru Cherippu (one sandal)

ME- Manasilla. Onnu enneechu pogumo ( I don’t feel like. Will u get up n leave)

That bloody mongrel winks and smiles and goes. The people who had been watching this noon show suddenly get the voices and say

MONGRELS- ENTHU PATTI. (what happened)

MACHO GUY NO 1- Was he teasing you?

ME- No..i guess he was probably drunk. He wanted my chips, my phone, my sandals.

MACHO GUY NO 2- you should have shared your chips

MOGRELS- HAHAHAHAH

MACHO GUY NO 1- If he wasn’t this old I would have beaten him

I rolled my eyes and continued with my music while these macho guys continued debating about the entertainment with their eyes glued on me. This is the situation mainly seen in Kerala. They have an opinion on everything but an action for nothing. Everything is news for them and a new topic. I was lucky that the journey ended within an hour of that happening.

But the weekend was a joyful one. Food so yumm that I could drown if I even think about it right now. Grandparents running around getting my wishes fulfilled. Early morning faint chants from the temple calming everything down. The green and misty land caressing every soul. A weekend well spent.