Of Love and Dogs and Bitches

Ever heard of "Kutta Dog Hota Hai". Hell I would like to read about the dogs (with due respects) than I would like to watch any of those love-smitten-crazy-people stories. Hell reading about dogs makes more sense than watching first someone loved by second someone, then the first someone marrying third someone, then first and third producing a young fourth someone, then the third someone dying to never let the 'happily ever after' effect come into the feeble minds of the audience who are busy wiping tears from where the tears fall down from, then the young fourth someone in a bid to play a part manages to make the first someone fall in love with the second someone with the help of a fifth someone but just this time the second someone tries to be in love with the sixth someone who is in love with the second someone and gets to know the first someone through the second someone and finally a seventh someone decides that the three hours are over and we should make the first someone be with the second someone and let them do away with the sixth someone and keep the young fourth someone... Hell, people say that it was a mind blowing story. But what I still love about dogs is that they don’t sing "Kutta Dog Hota Hai" but rather they just do what dogs are supposed to do. I know I have used Hell three times, but trust me I will use it just one more time, not here but at the place where it won’t seem like what it is.

I think I am a normal human being and I tend to think the way things are put across. I like calling a spade a 'digger' and here I am mentioning that the environment has a total impact on what a person writes about. Thinking and talking are two different things. You cant think and talk at the same time. That is why God said 'Breathe woman so that you may pause!' and that is the precise moment when you think. That pause is of such a fundamental importance to Earth that keeps the Moon from crashing down on it. But all said and done, I do get carried away at times thankfully leaving the lunar cycle intact.

Talking about me, I as a person who writes about things I see and feel and I guess I now know the reason why. It is the dogs. The dogs have left such an impact that the bitches (with all due respect to them as well) were seldom allowed inside the house. This being the reason why I can’t seem to write that what people can relate to but at times, I do believe that I write things that people can’t relate to. This is the reason why I write. I believe that it is good enough reason for anyone to write.

Now you might be wondering where I used the word hell and I can let you wonder for some more time. There are two possibilities. One, you know the other you don't. If I get to choose from other few possible possibilities, I would say that you don’t care whether I used the word or not. That is a human tendency. Why would one care if it was or it wasn’t? Fair enough. I wouldn’t care one little bit either. So let us all stop caring (something which we are good at) and keep worrying about something that does not belong to us at all. This way we can be at peace and live a happy life.

Dilemma of a Dream

I am about to step into something that goes way beyond my capability to understand or analyze or talk about or even write about. That realm is a part of a human being that starts from its first breath and ends at its last breath. It is something called 'upbringing' or 'bringing up'. I have lived among old and young but I never used to think about whys and how’s of life. Kids, as I was, are busy with schools, play, mischief, and what not. I was not one of those mischievous kind of kids, but a sobered down from my early days. Not that I was always good, I have had my share of deeds that are not something I can talk about. How a person lives life as a kid definitely shows up how that person grows up. Some people never get their act together, but some change totally. What I am writing about is neither about the way a human being grows up and nor about how it changes, it is about how we want a human being to be.

I dream of a cute little daughter and sharing all kinds of moments with her, moments my little head can imagine. I believe that my little girl will not cry but will call me to help her out when the time is right. I believe that she will cling to me more than she would cling to her mom in her very very early days. When she is a few months old, I imagine her winking at me when her mom feeds her, just to tell me who the boss is and who belongs where. Thus starting a war between the two of us, a war to be with the mom of the house. I am sure I will help her grow up to be a nuisance in the house and make sure her mom has a tough time handling her, but be at peace when with me. With her first birthday very near she would start anticipating the excitement and trying to be a part of it. When she starts to walk, she would run around house and do all kinds of things that normal kids don't do. She would watch me and her mom cook especially monitoring mom to make sure she does everything the right way, just to emphasize the point that dad cooks well for her. I imagine her stealing her mom's glasses and pretending as if she is innocent till I tell her to give them in. With the sas bahu serials still running, she would be spending more time with me than her mom just to tell mom what is important than watching TV. When it is time to eat, she would always make me feed her, sending a message to her mom that she is not the only woman in my life. She would want me to read her bedtime stories, especially the long ones to keep mom waiting in the other room. She would laugh out loud, step outside her bedroom, and make noise to let her mom know that she is still awake and dad is not coming anytime soon. When she notices that mom has her glaring stare at me telling me that this is not fair, she would promptly say that she is not going to repeat it and calm her mom down, but it is the same way again the very next day. She would make her mom jump and dance around the house but is just like a quiet kid when dad shows up so that mom's complaints have no proof to warrant a private talk between the two of us.

She would reassure us on her first day of the school that she will be fine and we should take care of ourselves and not worry about her. She would promise that the kids at school will not run scared of her because I tell her not to scare them off. On her return from the school on the very first day, she would tell me that the teacher does not know anything, like I used to say most of the times and she would rather be good teaching the teacher a few things. I would want her to be good at what she does, like I always believe in. She would never be afraid of doing what she wants to because I tell her to do so. She would believe in me and never fall for those 'love bites'. With her advancing years, she would ask me how to go about further studies and carry on accordingly. She would know that parents are people who one can always trust and what parents do and say is always for the good of their children. She would never do things that would make me feel bad in the slightest and would say things that would make me proud. She would always be better than what I was in whatever I did. She would always be what I am not and would always do what I could not. When time comes, she would marry the guy I choose for her, believing that her dad always makes the right choice. I know that I am always right, be it for her or for me. I would tell her to dream of having a cute little daughter one day and then share all kind of moments with her, moments her little head can imagine. I want my daughter to be happy when she has her daughter, happier than I was when I had her as my daughter.

All this makes me happy and think that I am going to have a very happy family. No wonder, who would not be happy if all wishes were to come true. But then I find something creepy in all this. Who am I doing all this for? Who am I dreaming for? When I think about this, I feel ashamed. Ashamed because of how selfish can I be. I feel ashamed that I want my daughter to be how I want her to be. Is that why I love her so much? Is that why I am happy because she is going to live her life the way I want her to? All this makes me question myself that am I really 'bringing up' a human being or I am making a robot that does what I want it to do? Are we not bored of seeing the same things every day and doing them the same way always. Would I be bored of my daughter when I see her doing what I want her to do, laughing when I want her to laugh, crying when I want her to do so? Is this how parents bring up their children, to make them what they have in mind? Is this normal? No matter how hard I think about it, I can't see it being normal from any perspective. I don't see myself raising a human being, what I see myself doing is making a miserable life-form which would not know the basic meaning of living, which would not know what being happy is, that would not know what sadness is. How can someone like that make others happy? I still think hard, but I can't assume the fact that I am not being a good father because if a human being cannot call right from wrong, the whole purpose of humanity is lost.

• But humanity is a concept; I have to live a happy life too.
• I cannot see my daughter doing something that will make me unhappy.

• How can I bear the thought that my daughter who I raise and who I give my everything to, will counter my decision when she grows up.
• But how would I know what is good for her and what is not? How would she know what is right and what is wrong?

• I want my daughter to make me happy.
• But do I know what will make her happy?

• I want my daughter to sacrifice everything for me.
• Can I not sacrifice something for the one who I brought in this world?

• I want to hold my head high when I talk about my daughter and say 'this is the girl who I am proud of'.
• Would my daughter say, 'this is the father who makes me do everything'?

• But she is living her life.
• Is that really life?

• I want a daughter.
• Does my daughter want a father like me?

I guess I have to stop dreaming and start thinking. I believe I have to make a hard choice, something that will make a proud father, not just a happy father. At times, happiness is not the only reason we live. Human life, as many of us don't know, goes far beyond the boundaries of happiness

Picture Source - valeriebrooke.com

A Solution to a Problem of a Solution - A Thought

One needs a reason to write. I have been thinking of one such reason but when you see a lot of choices given to you, you prefer the best one out of them. It so happens that I when I write, it goes into something personal something that cannot be shared. That takes the priority. But overtime themes build up in your head and one fine day you just have to let it out - today seems to be one such day.

Much has happened in the last few months. Beginning with my changing cities, my beloved changing countries, improvised work same returns, new habitat, changing thoughts, hundreds of people killed, money melting, and surprisingly a new year comes out of nowhere, and what not. At times you just want to let it go. But when you think about it, what is "it" that you can let go? One thing I can think of is let everything go and go to Himalayas. People have done it in the past, people will do it again, though the reason why they will do it is totally different than what it was centuries ago but the motive is still the same. I felt doing "it" too. While I was feeling it, something stuck me real hard and it came from no where. Here is the question again, what is 'it'? I tried hard to look for 'it' but I failed, I found nothing, but what I remember is that something did hit me. It must have been like something that has been in front of you all the time but you can see only from the corner of your eye. It somehow missed the corner of my eye. But there are other worse things I can think of that hit you and you don't see it coming and you don't see it go as well. One such thing is chewing.

Talking about biomechanics of the human temporomandibular joint during mastication, or simply the process of chewing, that is one time when you are really hit hard by something you can't see. At a force of about 847N for men and 597N for women things can get pretty rough. I feel the need to argue that why a man's bite out-forces that of a woman. We talk about gender equality and the likes, why would a woman bite 350N units less force than that of a man? Guess these are laboratory tests and must have involved some kind of discrimination against women. We should report this to WHO (Women Heckling Organization). Alright, coming back to the point of something hitting you when you are masticating or so make it simple to avoid any WHO activity, let us call it chewing. Something hitting you real hard while you are at it goes this way: when you are chewing the softest thing you have ever put in your mouth and you are in the realm of an amazing feeling - feeling elated to have grabbed something that soft, feeling elated that you are biting into something that is very soft, feeling elated that you are actually chewing the soft thing. While you are into that amazing feeling, feeling exactly like you feel when you are amazed, out of nowhere you hear that CRICCCCCCCH sound.

Now there are many sounds one can make while chewing. Those can be sounds of satisfaction, sounds of your teeth grinding against each other doing what teeth do when they grind against each other, sounds of your singing while you chew, or sounds an open mouth makes while chewing and the likes. But the sound that hits you is the scary CRICCCCCCCH sound of something between your teeth that should not be there at the first place. Then there are reactions. The first and foremost, you stop chewing. Second you look around as if you are looking 'inside' your mouth. Third, you start chewing (oh yes, you do) ever so slowly to see if that sound comes up again. Fourth, you roll your tongue in your mouth to feel if you still have your teeth where you last left them. Fifth, you think of spitting out whatever you have in your mouth. Sixth, you look at the stuff you were eating (if there is any left) as if it was the culprit. Seventh, you pick up the remaining stuff and put it in your mouth very carefully. Eighth, you chew as if your life is hanging on to it. Ninth, you keep looking at the still left over stuff that you were eating. Tenth, you feel your teeth every time you swallow whatever you had to swallow.

While you do all this, you still wonder what hit you. No matter how hard you try, you just can't find the source of the sound. The chewing rhythm is broken and no matter what you do to concentrate again on chewing, you just don't feel too good about the soft thing in your mouth. So what happens is that for a moment you feel good about chewing the soft thing in your mouth. A moment or two later you feel bad about feeling good about it. Then you feel good about feeling bad about feeling good about it and, satisfied you just finish off the soft thing you started eating. But you still wonder what hit you.

Coming back to my thought of letting it all go, I was hit by something that I could not see. It must have been a thought that you think of when you are not thinking about it. But when something like that happens, you really don't know whether to think about what you were thinking of or think about what you were not thinking of. It involves a lot of thinking and during this process you either don't think at all or think about something that you were not thinking of. This is what happened to me. I had to deboard the 'let go everything' train. Leaving that thought was like stepping at something which is not there at all, but that is a different story altogether. I am not intelligent enough to describe that. That needs me to cry a bit but I am more of a kind of inside crying person, so I bequeathed that thought into oblivion but it bequeathed it right back at me. So I used a special technique to get rid of that thought, a technique which is not a technique at all. It is just that you think about something other than what you think about as if you were thinking about something. Sounds confusing, I know that. I can do that at times. You can try that on me sometime and let us see if I care.

With all that running in my mind, I thought about a solution. What could be an ultimate solution to a problem that bothers us? This is not about the solution, but about the problem we have. There has been something that is bothering us, something that is not letting us live our lives the way we want us to. It could be the happenings around us, the killing, the economics, or the future. It all seems gloomy. I mean, how many of are trained to face a situation that we have never heard of before? Nothing in your upbringing tells us what to do when someone points a gun at you and tries to rob you. What best we can do at that time is left upto how strong a person thinks or how strong a person is. The way you react to such a situation is not what you can plan. I can be a superman in my plans but when it comes to putting that plan into action, and that is when I know what I am capable of. This is one big issue we face in our country. We plan and then do nothing. We think too much and while thinking all what we should not think about, something hits us. That is when we forget what we were thinking about. Reading all what we are doing since the majority of past two decades is shouting at the person across the river 'I am a son of a lion and am not afraid of you' to which the other person retorts 'Did your mom visit the jungle or the lion showed up at your house?' That is where we turn around and think of something else to say. This thinking has led us to one of the painful truth of our existence - ignore what all is happening. What we take care of is what is vital to our living - eat, breathe and multiply. That is what human life is all about, to sum it up. We don’t know what to believe in. That is the worse thing that can happen to mankind and womankind. I have heard people say 'Please go away and mind your business'. I wish everything around me would go away and minds its own business too.

An afterthought: At times when you don't know anything, 'something' is a very nice word to use. Saves you a lot of thought.

A positive response... Men are not always bad.

A rejoinder to a friends blog - INDIAN MEN-what they do and what I see
Read it first, please.

Ah.. dear friend, you seem to be into something classic. Though most of it is what a man will disagree to, I have a few points to mention about the points you have mentioned. So here goes the mentioning:

- Ball scratching. If at all you see someone doing it, consider that person to be single. It so happens that the thing that covers the balls is in need of a daily wash. If that is not done, certain things it covers demands a daily scratch. Guess, next time you notice someone closer to you getting closer to his hanging parts, gift him a nice pack of undies.

- Pissing out is just a natural mechanism that men tend not to flaunt but succumb to. It seems odd to the other species because they CAN NOT do it. You would not see a man squatting down with his clothes all bundled up between his thighs and belly and his rear end out for a show. So women, what you can’t do is not necessarily wrong. haha...

- Spitting. Oh yes, you think men do it, ask women who ruminate too. Yes, whatever they chew. So you can safely take it out from the list. Trust me, you can.

- Alright.. the drink and getting into bed part. Hmmm. That was interesting. You see, it always is reassuring for a woman (I am sorry to be directly rude) that men do not leave anything behind when they are in. So when men say 'for a minute' a healthy average man will take a little less than that to get done with the exciting part. About the beer count, why would anyone listen to a drunken person? And who is complaining of the age and size. 30 is always 25 and 28 is very near to 32. Guess the reason is because women are supposedly weak at mathematics. But then, men never take goats to bed. That is another story.

- The belching and the farting part. This goes into a domain that I really can’t argue on. All I would say that try belching as hard as you can (obviously when you are alone) and surprise yourself with how much noise you can make. Lady, it is the strength of men that gets then all wrong ears. Hehe.. guess you need to be stronger to make a good sound. The F part gets bad at times. A little self restrain is something that always gets the best out of you.

So you see, everything is not what it seems. All you need is a perspective.