No Title, again...

I have been postponing this post for a long time now, had almost given up the idea of writing this...but since I can't get it out of my mind- here it goes.
The following is an excerpt from a conversation with our factory's landlord's family, a Jat family (no offence to the community and in no way this intends to generalise the community).
Enter their house. Greeted by the two bahus of the family. Father introduces them to us(for me and my mother, it was our first meeting with them). We settle down.Younger bahu leaves to get water and stuff. Then starts the conversation.


Elder bahu- "kaunsi class mein hai beti ?"

Mom- "baarahvi mein hai"

Elder bahu- "Achha, beta bada hai ya chhota hai ?"

Dad- "beta nahin hai"

Elder bahu (visibly astonished)- "beta nahin hai ?" (flaunting an expression that made me break into my most irreverent laugh ever)
I stifled my laughter with immense effort and I could somewhat sense the lady thinking ki "ek toh ek hi beti hai aur woh bhi batammeez !"

Dad(somewhat amused himself)- "hamara beta bhi yehi hai"

Elder bahu(with conspicuous pride)- "meri toh 3 ladkiyan hain aur 1 ladka hai"
the pride showing itself at the mention of the "1 ladka"

Father leaves. Enters the younger bahu.
Same conversation, asks which grade I study in. And then-

Younger bahu- "Aur ladka ?"

Momma- "Ladka nahin hai."

Younger bahu to the elder one in astonishment- "Inka ladka nahin hai !"

Momma- "hamare liye sab kuch yehi hai"

Younger bahu- "fir bhi ladka toh hona chahiye"

Then comes the most hilarious moment of the meeting.....when the younger bahu proceeds to ask-

"Ladka banaya nahin ya bana nahin ?"

Momma and I looked at each other, myself enjoying the amusement(with a kind of anger simmering in my mind as well) and momma, partially amused and partially embarrased.

Momma tries to say something, starts with a feeble "nahin..." and goes on to change the topic.

This was something that I shall not be able to forget.

By the way, this happened on Diwali, which reminds me of a certain question that has been bugging me for quite some time- What is the pleasure that one gets on hearing the disgusting sound of those detestable crackers ? I mean it beats all logic. How can noises as those produced by crackers be pleasing to one's senses ? And if they are not, why do some people choose to subject themselves and others to such torture ?

Getting back to the present,
What is one's state of mind after reading the plots and storylines of movies like 'Irreversible', 'The Last House on the Left', 'Nightmare on Elm street', 'Friday the 13th', 'Psycho' and about a guy called Ed Gein ?

Ask me- not pleasant, no...not at all..

NO TITLE

Finally back to blogging after a long hiatus...have a lot of things about but can't seem to put it into writing..I m finally realising that I am perhaps not as good at expression and writing as I had made myself believe...I mean I never win any essay writing competitions even though I put in efforts. Faced the first group discussion in my life and spent the entire 10 minutes in trying to get over the shocking realisation that people can be so aggressive and so loud to get their points across to others. I never felt that dumb(literally) in my life.And we(they) hardly discussed any substantial points (in my opinion).Five minutes into it,I got so pissed off that I just decided to keep quiet and let them howl.
I really don't know but if the GDs that one has to face while getting screened for jobs are remotely similar to what I saw...its a hopeless future that I see...

Coming to how to deal with such situations and people in life..I really dont know how to...for I have in mind two equally convincing yet contradicting theories (or whatever it should be called)..The first is that one should try to adapt to the situations, have that go-getter kind of attitude and be as aggressive,vociferous and vehement as they are in their attitude because in the end, all that matters is that we get our points accross...I mean that we achieve our objective...Now I dont know if I can take to this but I can probably, if I try hard enough...

The second one is two stay as one is and not behave in a manner that seemed so offensive when one was at its receiving end. Personally the kind of behaviour was repulsive..and how can I behave in a manner that was so disgusting to me. This theory probably says that in the end, one's abilities and talent would speak for themselves...whatever is worthy of appreciation will ultimately shine through...

I dont know which one is right..or seems more right or which one works for me...in short..I just dont know..

The same way when it comes to studies...I mean to put aside all the grouses against the education system and study hard considering it to be my responsibility or to shun whatever I think is useless (somethings are)...

There's one side that says that one has to be clever, a glib talker, ambitious competitive and extrovertive to find success, any sort of success I mean, work and more importantly in relationships and dealings with people...and there is the other side that says that its the inner goodness that counts, that asks us to stick to our ideals(that usually comes from my mother and co.)

Its all so remarkably confusing !!!

Boooooooooookssss !!

Next coming to the kind of books that I have read recently and the ones I have managed to finish and the many which I had to put down midway...
I didnt imagine that books could land me in such a glum, miserable mood that I am in these days...
I had been reading the diary of a young girl- Anne Frank...what an impact it has...one can almost feel the pain of her confinement...and more disturbing is when one gets to know how tragically did the lives of people so vividly described, of people who were at once hopeful and so alive, came to an end...none of them survived the War except Otto Frank, Anne's father...and the fact that she was so young...
And reading about the world war and the Holocaust inevitably brought back memories of Elie Wiesel's Night....the descriptions so vivid that one can so much feel the agony...one cannot escape the acute sense of tragedy that comes with it...and then to comment on the power of writing...how it makes things of the past appear so real...
And coming to the other ones that I read...The God of Small Things...I couldnt go on with that one...it evokes an almost pungent feeling...and the mood of these books...it holds me captive for much too long....
Then to Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca...I read the most of it with the last few chapters remaining...I cant get over the beautiful images of Manderley...I so much wish I could see it...the crimson building, the misty sea on one side, woods near,the fragrance of the azaleas...and more so about Rebecca...I cant forget the way the author describes Rebecca's handwriting...the elongated 'R'...and Rebecca - wonder what she looked like....and this is what a piece of fiction can do..
I started with Jane Eyre as well but I cant take one more caught in the darkness heroine or the feeling of the oppressive English society of that time...
The Fountainhead had already driven me crazy..I have already written enough about them...
And then coming to a few stories which I didnt actually read but went through the plot summaries on the internet...almost strange fascinating pieces of literature - "The metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka...."The Picture of Dorian Gray" Oscar Wilde....
A few references to something called "Udolphpo" and "The Monk" and in The Northanger Abbey and I gotta know about these Gothic mysteries...
And the most disgusting of all was to know about the origin of the word "sadism"- a decadent author called Marquis De Sade...absolutely disgusting...

Roses on my nose !!

For once..I have loads to talk about..
Let me start with this latest outburst that my nose has been subjected to...it happened about a week ago and is refusing to die down...
I have been the subject of a number of jokes because of this....
My father has been leading the joking arena...what he says is something like this "kuch log toh apne naak par makhhi tak nahin baithne dete..(reference to my high headedness, he thinks i m like that)...tere naak par toh permanent makhhi baith gayi hai" and he bursts out laughing...
Another one comes from my school friend...who just on looking at me has to remark "rol, tere naak par dobara pimple ho gaya" ( hadd hai...as if i didnt know about it...
I guess only those who have gone through this understand the kind of atrocity that it is...and this one's huge...right in the center and the cause of all unwanted attention....actually like a fly...only that I wish it was a fly so that i could atleast swat it away...

I HATE MYSELF !!!

There are some things in life which simply cannot be expressed in words......
Here comes one of them.....Today...at this moment, the degree of my disgust and anger cannot be expressed in words....any words from all the languages of this planet...and those of other planets and those of other universe...if they exist....are not equipped to express this intense emotion.....

I feel like killing myself today...cannot live with this malfunctioning brain grossly incapacitant to take decisions or make judgements.....like roaming around in markets with friends just because the whole world enjoys it....hell....I dont....
They dont like sitting at the home...I do....but wats wrong with me is that today..I tried...actually tried to do something which I dont like..because a couple of friends insisted that it was the fun thing to do.....and these couple of buddies who are like totally different persons from.....its a baneful life outside home...its so difficult to survive in a world where one does not have any companion....in the sense a friend who is at the same mental level that you are.....I m in a state of longing for friendship that has power to....i dunno wat....just that true friendship is not about having fun together...it should have the power to uplift....

I mean I associated myself with the wannabe category...the one which I have forever denounced.....I simply fail to understand people....especially those in my age group....they are so much the same...in their consistent desires and attempts to be different.....I mean its so insipid..so plain....there has got to be a dash of eccentricity...a little quirkiness....and such uniqueness that is not cultivated..but natural...unconscious and totally spontaneous.....its so hard to find all of this.....

It feels incredibly artificial...to have laughed at a million things which dont seem to remotely funny to me....why ?..because it was intended to be funny...and everyone laughs at senseless things...I hate myself for being tolerant towards funny/unfunny nonsense/jokes (you can choose either of the options depending on the kind of person you are)...and its not tolerance..(tolerance is a gud thing)...I hate myself for being party to this crap...

So call me boring..plain..dull....hate me..tease me...mock me...ostracise me....kill me....i cant say that I dont give a damn...coz unfortunately these things do matter....but nothing is more torturous than trying to be someone else (however hip,smart,cool the 'someone' might be)
And its worse if you succeed in being that someone...equivalent to killing a distinct personality you could have been...