on a corner

you have walked
on these pebbled streets

closed your eyes
and breathed the scents of life

you have danced
on those dainty feet

opened your heart
and embraced the love

you have cried
and you have laughed

you have loved a lot
you have hated too

you have given a bit
you have taken a bit

and now i walk with you
on these pebbled streets

and on every street
and on every corner
you remind me

of the love you once had
the love that was thrown around
the love that nobody really cared for

i still walk with you
i still hold your hand

as you look back every second
at the love that is no more
at the love that was thrown around

i will still walk with you
i will still hold your hand

but don't be surprise
if you find yourself, one day
all alone, on that street of dreams

all alone, on a corner
with the past,
the present and the future
impossible to see, anymore

photographs

From an under graduate to a research scientist in string theory and cosmology, from someone 7 years younger to someone 8 years older, these are the women I've known and loved.

H - You were a dream. Beautiful, intelligent and caring, you were lovely beyond imagination. But our love wasn't enough, we dreamt big but we were just too far apart. Two hopeless romantics in two different countries. I have to let you go coz I didn't have the heart to make you wait; wait for me to grow rich, come to your country and work there. I remember your last words, "I will never be able to love anyone as strongly as I love you." I believed you then, and I still do.

From you, I learned what "lovely" means. From you, I learned what being faithful is all about.

J - You were that cute li'l girl, so easy to fall in love with. You tried so hard to impress me, to like the things I love. And your lies, those small lies that grew so big that both of us couldn't manage in the end.

From you, I learned how to flirt. From you, I learned that the most innocent looking face can mask a heart full of lies.

T - You came like a comet in my life. We collided; we both exploded and gave up a part of ourselves to each other. You were the first woman who challenged my beliefs, the first woman who cried when I said I love you, and the first woman who love and drank dark rum more than me. We had to let each other go because there were too many obstacles, and the rules of society that need to be broken, they were just too many.

You taught me how to love a woman, and everything beyond.

L - You were the one with a TEMPER. Tiny and so fair-skinned, I could never imagine what was underneath.

From you, I learned that a woman can be so stubborn and egoistic.

J - You were the most overgrown kid I've ever known. Scarred by your first love, you were so confused and so vulnerable. And I could never be the perfect love that your heart wanted.

You taught me how to deal with a woman's endless, ever changing moods.

Like everyone else, I remember all of you sometimes. But unlike everyone else, I will never look back, nor have I ever looked. You were there in my life, once upon a time. But like the view from the window of a car, moving along a highway, you are all behind me now, gone forever. And those moments we shared, and the love and happiness we felt - they have become hazy, neglected and forgotten like the old faded photographs in a family album.

I'm a pilgrim; I'm a tourist on this planet. What I have right now, what I see and feel today, and where I'm going tomorrow - that's all that matters to me. And you, my woman, you are the love of my life. And you, my sweet, you come above everything and everyone else.

We are going to be together, forever, very very soon. Goodnight and sweet fragrant dreams, my love.

so many to read!!!

Once upon a time, I used to read like there was no tomorrow. In my teens, I used to finish the Jeffrey Archers, Sydney Sheldons and the Ken Folletts in a single day.

When I was doing my engineering in Tamil Nadu, there was this small library near our college. I used to go there once a week and borrow 3-4 books at a time. In a few months, I almost finished the FICTION section and the owners were so pleased that they started ordering coffee for me whenever I went there. And once in the hostel, I came across a very rare book, written by a prisoner about life in a notorious penitentiary. I also found out that my friend had borrowed it from someone else and had to return it the next day. I read the whole night, finished it at 6 in the morning and gave back the book to him. I was tired and sleepy, but very very happy.

Lately, I'm beginning to learn that the rate at which I'm buying new books and the rate at which I'm reading them - they are too far apart. Take a look at all the books I haven't started reading or haven't finished:

Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
True History of the Kelly Gang - Peter Carey
The Best Loved Poems of the American People (Publisher - Doubleday)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson
Songs in Ordinary Time - Mary McGarry Morris
The Complete Stories - Franz Kafka
The Birth of Tragedy - Friedrich Nietzsche (complex compared to "Beyond Good and Evil" and "Thus Spake Zarathustra")
The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann

I seriously need to do something about this. Maybe I need to buy more!!

street sexual harassment

Much has been written on this; stories have been told and they've left me with an overwhelming sense of sadness and anger. Some have simply told their stories, while some have offered solutions.

I was born in the northeast, I grew up and lived there for almost 15 years. I've been in Delhi since my 11th class and in between, I was in Tamil Nadu for 4 years. I've also been to numerous places, all over India.

It happens almost everywhere in India but no place can beat the northern states of Haryana, UP and Delhi when it comes to the sheer rejection of women's equality and the utter disrespect for them. For the men folks in these regions, being manly or macho is a matter of life and death. And at the expense of the women.

It's how they speak; if you are a real man, every phrase, every line has to be punctuated with the infamous BCs and MCs. Doesn't matter much who is around. In every house, there is a husband, a son, a brother or an uncle who uses these expletives every time, everywhere. And no one in the family will protest, men or women. It's a manner of speaking for the guys; it's a way of life out here. It happens in the colleges and offices too.

It's how every family views incidents of molestation or harassment. When their own daughters, sisters or wives are the victims, very few families will come out and report it. Someone passed a lewd comment, someone felt you up, it's silently accepted. Maybe with a bit of indignation, but not because you have been victimized or scared to death but because someone has violated their property or shown disrespect to it. Coz this is India, families own all the unmarried women and the husbands, the married ones.

Someone rapes you and the verdict is - you have done something wrong, somehow, somewhere. Forget society, forget the man-woman divide and look closer. Most of your family members, your relatives and your neighbors will have this opinion.

Don't believe me, do you? Ask yourself then, why do these people keep quiet? Why do they talk of the whole thing as if you were to be blamed? Why are they ashamed to talk about it or report it? Why do they make you ashamed of yourself? Ashamed of being born a woman in this Goddamn country?

You and I are going to write about this. You and I are going to light candles and stand together in front of the Parliament or India Gate. The laws may be changed and we may congratulate each other. But will it really change much?

Why don't we start with a little bit of education instead? Start with the men in your lives; your fathers, your brothers, your uncles, your boyfriends and your male friends. Whenever they use some expletives, pass a derogatory comment, make a judgment or ogle at a woman - don't you dare accept it silently. Say something that will make him ashamed, slap him if you have to but don't you dare let it pass.

Women's day will come and go, the blanknoiseproject will be forgotten in time, the interests and enthusiasm will dry up and the flowers will wither away. But the girls will remain, the girls with the same old scars and fears.

Won't it be far better to change the attitude of the men in your lives than to change the laws of a country?