WIDE EYED DREAMS

For the very first time in my life today I am not dreaming with my eyes close shut,I am wide awake for my dream that just doesn't let me sleep a wink. all my life I have dreamt,I  have lived in my own utopian world with the myriad imaginary chums that I created, never ever bothering to sneak into reality! I was happy with what I had, actually, I never ever tried to do anything but  today I feel this sudden upsurge of emotions gallore ranging from that ticklish feeling emanating from the pit , to that extra boost of zeal & exuberation in the head!.I am experiencing all of this for the very first time,as I am typing I  am smiling from ear to ear giving my idiosyncrasic metallic grin!! all for that very first wide eyed dream shimmering in my eyes. 

Purple - Story Of A Transsex

The hall bulb flickered continuously. Laxman's life was also like this flickering bulb, alternating between dark and light only difference been,in his case the darkness always lasted more than the light.
his life had been twisted from the very beginning. He was transsexual. He took pleasure and intense joy in dressing up as a woman. Every single grain of his body oozed femininity. He  watched the neighborhood women and mentally took notes of their mannerism & demeanor. He loved the sway and the fluidity of their walk. Later in the privy of his bedroom he would put his morning lessons to work but he knew it all too well that this was something he had to keep to himself. He knew that the society looked down upon people like him. People like him usually,generally were abandoned by their families once they revealed their sexuality all that was left then was to join the ghetto community of the transsexuals. Throughout their lives they would be ostracized and subjected to social stigma.  Laxman didn't want his life to take such a drastic turn, he wanted to live with his family. He prayed that one day when he would open up about his orientation he would be accepted.
He woke from his dream world when he heard the entrance door slam open and with equal force it was shut close. In came his father who was so down with alcohol that he could not take one steady step,  with wobbly movement he went inside his bedroom where his wife,laxman's mother was sleeping.
''wake up,you bi*ch'' he said and pounced on her like a hungry predator would on its prey.
Laxman stood outside the ajar bedroom door, hearing his mother wail & scream in pain but now all of this was routine. It happened every single day so it didn't arouse any emotion in him whatsoever. Laxman quietly moved from there taking his mother's dressing paraphernalia and went in his room.Whenever his father beat his mother he had this strong urge,sort of a convulsion to dress up like her.
He smeared his cheeks red and put kohl on his eyelids,draped his mother's pink sari  he stood infront of the mirror, adorning his slim and petite frame. 'laxmi' he called to himself and smiled , just then he heard a loud thumping on his bedroom door,even before he could move one bit,his father walked in. His mouth hung open.
With glaring red eyes that fumed of rage he dragged Laxman out of his room by his hairs.
''what is this'' he screamed kicking laxman on his buttocks.''I am talking to you,answer me you son of a bi*ch'' he asked kicking his son all the time.''I want to be a girl''laxman replied. ''I have always felt like a girl,i love dressing as girl,playing as a girl,dancing as a girl....... i just want to be a girl''
His father ran to the kitchen and came out with a meat chopper. ''I want to be a girl'' he mocked.
''If i ever see you doing such a nonsense again,I will chop off your head with this'' he sweared throwing the chopper on earth. His mother did not dare to intervene.''now for what are you standing over here'' his father ordered his mother to come inside the room. Laxman lay prostrate on the floor alone.His red cheeks turned black from the kohl laden tears. ''how can i live this way in some one elses body'' he contemplated. ''how wrong i was to think that they would accept me for what i am''  ''how do i live like this'' ''how'' he hollered in his head.
''i am a persona non grata , a non entity & will always continue to be so'' ''unwanted''
he took the chopper and went to the bathroom,he stripped himself naked taking one last look at his battered and bruised body. he took his malehood in his bare hands and closed his eyes shut.all that he could hear now was the nonrhythmic throbbing of his heart.taking a deep breath he slowly began raising the chopper and with one quick blow he cut it off completely. he fell down in his own pool of blood. his male member lay next to him like a dead animal.

the hall bulb still flickered,once.twice& then went off.

Just Thinking

I don't know why I am writing this blogpost . It's pretty strange that sometimes all such banal and insignificant things seem all so meaningful and thought stirring. For eg. the moving fan in my room, I hardly ever do notice it but now that  I see it, it seems so mystical to me,like some grave new world ready to be explored!

MY ROLE MODEL- MY BROTHER

this post is written for my role model contest by blogadda in association with Gillette india

Punches!kicks!more punches!&more kicks! this is exactly how elder siblings show their dadagiri(read unconditional love) and me& my elder brother are no different.we fight like two ferocious felinesof an african safari,hungry for each other's blood!.we fight over every petty issue possible from 'who gets to drink that last sip of tang' to 'who gets to watch tv' we have fought for it all but strange it is no matter how much we fight or loathe each other we still dont and cant stop talking to each other.our'i swear i will never talk to you again' vows barely lasts a day.I remember whenever i would get angry and stop talking to him, he would come up to me and say 'can we be fraands' stretching his hands out for a handshake with all his fingers wide apart keeping a insanely hilarious visage.all my loathings & resentments would die and all my anger would melt away like that chocolate we kept on the stove to celebrate our 'reunion'.

After surviving tons of deadly blows to my fragile brain (courtesy:my beloved elder brother) i can still proudly say that 'my brother is my role model' firmly standing by my side whenever i have hit the cross roads. i can go on been naive and stupid as i am because i know he is always there to fix things up.he is always there, in all my victories,in all my failures, in all my ups,in all my downs.sailing with me in this voyage of life.
i dont call him 'dada' ( as most bong sisters call their elder brothers) because we are less of bro-sis and more of 'fraands'.

they say 'life is not a  bed of roses devoid of thorns' but my brother has painstakingly plucked out all the thorns of my life to make my road ahead smoother and better. making it a bed of roses indeed!

thank you sazzhu for always been there.

SELF TALK

As you people know that i love to talk to myself and even have the potential of holding big world summits all in my head! , i came up with this one
I didnt set much of the scene, just created two characters, one girl(heya thats me) and a guy, you can sketch the guy as per your wish.
so here it goes
"wow! a clean sweep, modi nailed it!"cried the guy in joy
"yeah!he is here to bring a change"i added
"yeah man ,was so pissed off with the congress"he chuckled
I nodded
"so what issues would you like him to address firstly"he plainly tossed the question at me
i racked my brain to come up with something intelligent. "economy"i said intelligently.
i just love it when i can come up with such good answers,felt like showering flowers onto myself in self adulation.
"oh! economy,so what do u know about it"
i was caught off guard at this sudden cross question. oh no! why does he need to test my general knowledge!i thought, i had already racked my brain to the pit, Now what do i come up with!!
"well"i smiled in a sophisticated and cool manner as if it were only i who had taught Adam Smith the abc's of economics & it was for me that he won the nobel.
"economics! a funny thing" i said. yeah right! funny, making me feel like a clown sans the rainbow curls and vibrant dress and the big red nose too.
i felt as if  i were sitting on the mouth of an active volcano which would go off any moment.
but still i continued with my act,filling in the gaps of the conversation with my quirky and smart smiles!
after a few more 'umms' and 'wells' and elegant smiles and smart smiles, i gave in.
"i know nothing of economy" i puked the words, buring my face in my hands!
"neither do i" he added matter- of-factly

PS- if you didnt get some meaning out of this one, its okay, as it didnt have any!! my self talks cant always be meaningful(cant remember the last time they were), i am no buddha or gandhi!
   

MIDNIGHT RADIO

"at the stroke of midnight hour
when the whole world sleeps
india will awake to life &freedom"
                                                    pt jawaharlal nehru

Dunno if india will ever awake to life and freedom but I do,every single day post the midnight hour,after i listen to my beloved radio & whatmore the moment of 'awakening' keeps me wide awake till 5 or sometimes even 7 am.

The radio does magical things to me,it changes my entire perspective towards life though the change hardly lasts a day! but the experience is nonetheless quite overwhelming.
I become like that molten wax which can mould in any shape in which it is casted.if i listen to a nomadic and spirited song i give myself that rebellious & spunky che guevara look imprinted on tees of zillions of wannabe self proclaimed teen rebels(read attention seekers)  ,the next moment when a sad song plays i become that damsel in distress surrounded by goons!! & when a motivational song kickstarts yeah boy!! i am all set for the sensational usain bolt victory stance.
To most people now radio is passe, fit for an 80+ dadaji who doesnt bother about life and even life doesnt bother about him!! but for me the radio is recreational,it changes the faulty wirings of my otherwise bland brain, making me think hard, ponder over things i never cared about.

sometimes i wonder if the song radio gaga by queens was for me,the lyrics went something like "radio gaga radio goo goo someone still loves you" i wonder if freddie mercury meant it for me,that 'someone' has got to be me who else could it be.



                                              HAIL MARCONI
                                        LONG LIVE THE RADIO