Thank you mom and dad for teaching me everything in life.

A rape. A brutal one. And the entire nation has been ashamed. The political class has been shaken and we have seen politicians from different party backgrounds crying. The police has been rocked. The civil society has been ashamed. Social networking sites are getting flooded with pictures of brutal retribution.
A politically ambitious Arvind Kejriwal demands superfast track courts to settle all rape cases. Candle light marches are taking place as usual and a big crowd shouting over its voice at the Jantar Mantar, currently the Indian equivalent of the Tahrir and Tiananmen Squares, demanding action against the criminals who have left an innocent girl on the verge of death.

But amid all this pandemonium, a question strikes me: What big change will indeed come at the end? We have seen that a number of rapes happened even after the atrocious assault on the 23-year-old girl on Dec 17 and as I write this article, there will be more such cases occurring relentlessly.
Peculiar reaction to biology chapter
I was 13 when I saw my classmates, both male and female, struggling to hold themselves back from grinning as the biological teacher taught the chapter called 'Reproduction'. That chapter had pictures of male and women reproductive organs and it was a great embarrassment for most people to witness them. Even I found my private tutor, who was a young man, avoiding that page during the evening classes. I asked my parents why was the reason for this strange reaction? My parents told me: "There is nothing abnormal in this. Learn to take things as they come in life."
Those words had showed me a way to treat things normally in the crucial days of adolescence. And once the initial phase passed, I did not have problem in perceiving things, particularly which were related to the opposite sex.
My parents did not shy away from my questions
I thank my parents for not refusing me an answer when asked about condoms. And neither was there any uncomfortable feeling in the bed room when commercials of sanitary napkins or kissing scenes were aired on the TV during family viewing. If any film scene was too crude for the children, the elders used to forward that and advised us not to witness them. It would affect our mind and hamper study. I saw many other friends talking about obscenity on the same issues.
It was because of this evolution of a logical perception towards the 'world of curiosity' that I never felt desperate to buy pornographic literature and CDs and watch them secretly. Yes, as every young man witnesses them for the first time at some point, I too did, but that was it. Never had I felt that an animal instinct was brewing inside me and I would target a female friend or relative to live a fantasy in the real life. I thank my parents again. They had instilled the right values in me at the right time.
But do all parents guide properly?
But at the same time, I also noticed that many of my friends or among those who I did not know but saw around me, did not have the same informal education. One friend of mine was thrown out of the house once for secretly watching pornography. I saw many talking filthy things about a good-looking girl in the school or loitering outside the women's toilet for some unknown reason.
Strange punishment in schools
Even I found teachers in some schools inventing a new way of punishing mischievous boys in the class. They were made to sit between two of the most beautiful girls in the class for a week so that they learn the right way out of utter embarrassment.
There used to be a strange sense of pleasure prevailing among people but I found it very abnormal when I gained maturity. Is this the idea behind co-education schools?
Our slangs involve mothers, sisters
I also noticed another humiliating aspect. In those young days, people mastered the vocabulary of slangs and most of them were women-specific. Even adults indulge in such language when they abuse somebody out of anger. It shows how much respect we have for our own mothers, sisters and women in general. Even we see elders speak in favour of a boy if he makes an unwelcome comment about a girl. It is said: "He is young. Will learnt it." Do we learn like this?
I thank my parents. They showed me a way to keep away from the business of hurling abuses. They told me: "Control your anger. Divert your mind when you are angry. Don't abuse people."
Didn't the family of those mad tongues out in the road teach them that? I wonder.
How many will we hang or castrate?
Today, we see the hell breaking loose over a brutal rape and unrealistic demands like hanging the culprits getting stronger. This is a cry of helplessness. It is not that we have not hung a rapist but little has changed on the ground.
We may hang some socially marginalised rapist but can we do the same when a kin of an influential politician or administrative officer does it? We can't. Very soon, there will be a controversy over categorising rapists and injustice and politics will take over. I wonder had it been oppressive summer in Delhi, how many would have assembled in the sun and raise a chorus for the poor girl? The climate made it a convenient cause for a popular movement. But did the culture change on Dec 17?
Can we shout when our own people rape?
This country has innumerable instances where a husband rapes his wife. In many of those cases, the helpless women are also targeted by their in-laws, including the mother-in-law, another woman. Who is going to take care of those victims? We know majority of the rapists are known to the victims.
Can those women or girls assemble at the Jantar Mantar and shout for punishment against their fathers, uncles or any other relative who robbed them of their dignity?
Law is helpless for the families have failed to teach those evil perpetrators how to go about in life and handle issues in ways that make us different from beasts.
We are miles away from modernity
We suffer from a false pride of modernity for we are still feudal in our mindset. We still believe 'Virginity is the lack of opportunity' and proudly sport the line on our latest T-shirts. For us, marriage is still a licence to get access to sex rather than to build on the idea of the social contract, something only man is capable of doing out of all animals on this planet.
We try live-in relationships and hence imitate the 'cool, western style' but end up raping our partners in several cases. It all goes awry because our upbringing has not been sound. And in this age where cultures overlap like never before, it is actually a mess. If all these closed years could not teach us how to practise self-restraint, there is very little chance that it will be learnt today amid endless enticement.
I thank my parents, they taught me how to face the world. And I will do my bit by passing the message to my son.

The Station

9P.M.

New Delhi Metro Station

So I was waiting here on the platform number 2 of New Delhi Metro Station waiting for my train. Passing time on stations is not an easy task, so I started noticing the people getting on and off the platform number 1. The trains came and passed but there was this girl that caught my attention because she was not boarding any train, she was just sitting right across the railway lines and reading a book. If you’ve been there you must know that it is an underground station, so every time the train came it brought a rush of air and they would make her hair fall on her face. This made me a bit more attracted towards her!

“Saab, move your feet a bit”, Ramdas, a floor cleaning guy asked me.

“Yeah sure”, I said.

And then the girl somehow just disappeared from there. I didn’t take it seriously!

“Saab, the train to your destination will be really late today.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Don’t you know a young girl of about 25-26 years jumped in front of the train?”

“Oh that’s so bad!”

7:30 A.M.

Somewhere in DLF Phase 4, Gurgaon

“Mwah! Get up na sweetheart, look your newspaper is here. C’mon Up! Up! Up!” Saima said.

“Hmmm, what happened? It’s Sunday I don’t feel like getting up so early.”

“It’s 7:30! We were supposed to go for dance class if you remember!”

“Acha chalo get me some coffee then.”

Saima left the room dropping the newspaper by my side. As soon as I opened the Local news page a shock wave travelled through my body and I was literally shivering with horror. The newspaper headline said- Young girl commits suicide on the Metro track. Then they had placed a photograph of the girl and she was none other than the mistery girl of platform number 1.

Days after this incident I was as usual waiting on my platform number 2 and I asked the sweeper, “Where is ramdas?”

The sweeper looked me with a surprised look and said, “saab there has never been a ramdas here since the inception of this station!”

Who Am I ???

In a tangled mass of metal and glass, he reached for her hand. He wasn’t sure why the car stalled, or why he was stupid enough to try to make a call from the middle of the intersection, but both happened. And then they were hit. It happened so suddenly that the tractor-trailer that t-boned them never had a chance of stopping. It hit them on the passenger side of the car. He was jarred and his head had been cut open by some mysterious item that he would never find, but she wasn’t moving. Her head was tilted, to the side and her lips had a blue tint to them.
How long had his eyes been closed? How much time had he wasted? The questions were racing through his mind faster than they ever had before. He was sick to his stomach with grief as they used a small tool to slowly cut her out of the once safe vehicle. The paramedics were worried. Something was wrong, very wrong, but they wouldn’t tell him what it was. He was terrified.

Memories flooded through him as he sat helplessly next to the man trying to pump life back into his fiance. He held her hand. He held onto her and did they only thing he knew how. He began to bargain. If you save her, I’ll stop drinking. If you bring her back to me, I’ll go to church and I’ll work less. Just, please, please, don’t take her away from me.
Forty-eight hours passed. She still hadn’t woken up. Her heart was beating, thanks to the machines that she was hooked up to, but she wasn’t breathing on her own. Her brain activity was regular, her body just needed to heal. That’s what the doctors kept telling him. But he couldn’t leave her side. He refused.

Her eyes fluttered open, as though she were seeing light for the first time. He gasped, ran to the door to call for attention, and then ran back to her side, embracing her.
“I was so worried, I thought I’d lost you. I don’t know what I would have done. I’m so glad you’re alright.” His words came out as one rushed sentence and when he pulled away from her, he was shocked. The woman that he had fallen completely in love with was looking at him with sheer terror written on her features. He reached out to touch her face, she flinched.

The nurse came in and started taking her vital measurements, calmly explaining what she knew and telling her that the doctor would be in soon. When all was said and done, she still hadn’t mentioned her fiance, sitting in the corner with his head buried in his hands. Not until he spoke to her, that is.
“Advika, love, are you alright?” His eyes pleaded with hers. Trying to find logic in her next words, in the cornflower blue hue of her soul.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are.”

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If It’s Important, You’ll Find A Way. If It Isn’t, You’ll Find An Excuse.

Some people dream of success, others make it happen. Of course, you can dream as much as you like but waiting for things to happen gets you nowhere. Get active and start making things happen.

Whatever journey your path takes you on, the most important thing is to have passion in what you do.

How many of you went to college, got your degree, and ended up doing something totally unrelated to your major? Studying it did not make you passionate about it. It wasn’t your path.

Education or even talent aren’t worth much without passion. So do the stuff that you love and you’ve always wanted to do because without it, you’ll feel stuck and unfulfilled. If you work in a bank but your dream is to be a naturopath, then make those changes now. Make this year the turning point in your life. When you do what you love you will be rewarded — it will just flow naturally.

Look at those around you who just make things happen. They have a clear goal in mind and they know where they want to go. They don’t always have a plan but they have the passion and the tenacity to make it work, and they achieve their goals as the end result.

Trust us when we tell you this. If something important to you, you WILL find a way. If it isn’t, you’ll find an excuse. It’s that simple. Find your way. Make it work, whatever it takes. Are you 10 kilos heavier than you should be? It is simple: Commit, go to that gym every day, no excuses, and train until you lose those 10  kilos. When you accomplish this, you’ll have the confidence to do more. Set a goal and make it happen.

Want to stop smoking? Stop making excuses, take control of your circumstances before they take control of you.

Success isn’t just about what you accomplish in your life, it’s about what you inspire others to do and when you do accomplish something as simple as quitting smoking or losing weight, you’ll inspire others to do the same. Anyone can change the world, and everybody should try. And it all starts with your own life.

Stop waiting for the perfect time to do what you want to do. Do it now.

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone, so get used to being uncomfortable. It won’t kill you.

Perfect Stranger

In the dead of night, a girl walks into a lonely little bar minutes from closing up for the night. She asks for a glass of water, no ice, not even a straw. Who walks into a bar and orders just water? She sits in this bar, alone, empty. Just her and a barkeep desperate to go home and close up for the night.

A curious barkeep wonders what kind of night brings a beautiful woman to his bar at the early hours of the morning. He wonders who she is as he finds himself lost in eyes of emeralds, a completely hypnotic gleam that forces a glass to slip from his grip, shattering into pieces. The noise makes him jump, yet she does not so much as bat her eyelids.

He picks up the pieces of the shattered glass as she sips at the glass of water. He returns to being lost in those eyes, emerald green. A song comes on, and this song, it is his song, he smiles and closes his eyes as he awaits his favourite part. “I love this song”, she says, those words roll perfectly off of those lips spoken with a voice that resonates in his ears, and he replies with, “it’s my song, this playlist is actually comprised of my all time favourites”. She looks deep into his eyes with a strong desire to learn the contents of this playlist he speaks of.
The next song plays, she sings along, singing as though she had too like him played this song thousands of times before. Soon the clock strikes 4am and he says he needs to close up, she asks if they can at least go to the end of the playlist… He smiles and agrees as he knows full well that this playlist has another three hours of songs left. And for the next three hours they sit and they talk. In that time she gets through another 4 glasses of water. They talk of many things music, art, life, politics, dreams and aspirations. They just talk for hours, they listen to music and she seems to intimately know every song, she tells him her story and as good barkeeps do he listens intently clinging to every word she speaks. The sun rises and the sunlight floods into this underground bar, he has never seen this place lit by sunlight but more than that her eyes seem to look even more astounding in the sunlight.
The playlist draws to an end, she stuffs a napkin into his shirt and they leave as he closes up, she walks off into the distance. He reaches for his phone and the napkin in his pocket, only to find that this napkin has nothing but a list of 17 songs, some of which he has never heard. A cold chill strikes over him as he realises that he did not even get a name.

There now lies a playlist in his iPod, containing 17 songs, titled “Perfect Stranger”. There is a bar in the outskirts of this town, that has a napkin framed on the wall behind the bar and every time he hears the sound of footsteps descending into this bar he looks for emerald eyes that never seem to return....

Spooning!

It’s cute when girls want to be the big spoon. But guys love being the spoon for a few simple reasons:

We can sniff you hair, because for some reason it always smells so good. We get to kiss the back of your neck and wrap our arms tightly around you. We can hold your hands and stroke the back of your palms. We can tickle your stomach and feel the laughter running all through your back. We can feel your heart beat inside your chest and feel you breathing, and it’s always so soothing. We can whisper sweet nothing’s into your ear. We can pull you closer when we begin to feel you slip away. But most of all, we love it because it feels like we’re protecting you, the thing we love most in the world. The only thing worth protecting.

lady!

She’s been there for a few hours now, this ancient lady who lives across from me. Her face is so pale and her eyes are open only slightly. If you were to see her, you would mistake her for being not alive. But she breathes so deeply every so often, as though she wanted to preserve the scent of a world she has lost. She is a picture. Outside, there is life unfolding. The ancient woman looks at a landscape she does not recognize. Her home is surrounded by strangers and she is a cracked vase. I am tempted to leave her a fresh rose, so that she may kiss its colour back into herself.