THE 'LUXURY' AND THE ELITE- A real fairy tale.

Luxury: pronounced: ˈlʌkʃ(ə)ri/ 

(Noun)

A state of great comfort or elegance, especially when involving great expense.

Example: "He lived a life of luxury!"

Synonyms: Opulence, luxuriousness, sumptuousness, richness, costliness, grandeur, grandness, splendor, magnificence, lavishness, lap of luxury, bed of roses, milk and honey.

Oh no, I’m not giving English lessons, calm down. This is the meaning of luxury on Google. I'm just surprised why the synonyms don't include 'affordable things'. I was in a magazine store today, which is- according to me- one of the best places on earth. For those who do not know this already, I’m extremely choosy. And 3/4th of the times, this works against me. Anyway, I happened to come across this month’s Outlook Business magazine, and there was just one sentence on the cover; The Future of LUXURY. And this was accompanied by one picture; a bow-tie made of diamonds. Obviously, this interested me and I ended up buying this issue. When I went through it, I was like “I can’t believe I wasted my time over this, what the hell!”Because it was nothing but a fashion mag! I’m not kidding! But after a while, I figured Outlook Business does know how to make business out of anything, and none of what I got was a waste. Why? One word: Luxury. My luxury: Ideas.

On going through this book again, I realised that luxury always meant brand, cost and quality. But look around, is that real luxury? When we think about it, don’t we all have our own definition of luxury? For one person, it might be fine dining, a day out in Paris, and some Louis Vuitton bags. For the other, it might be eating Roti and Paneer from a roadside stall, going out with his family to a beach once in 3 years, and bargaining for a bag that costs 300 Rupees in a small shop, and expecting to get it at 150. For a rich kid, luxury might be just another watch from Rolex. For a kid from the lower middle class, or a kid with limited means, a Fastrack watch is something he’d cherish for life. Am I being arrogant and judgemental? Being a kid from the upper middle class myself, I can tell you, this is the harsh reality.

But my question is simple: Why doesn’t a magazine ever show a jute bag from a roadside stall as luxury? Why doesn’t the media ever notice what appeals to the common man the most?

I’m an avid reader of fashion magazines. And I’ve always tried to compare Femina with Vogue India; usually drawing to a conclusion that Femina is for the general folk. But in the recent past, the products mentioned in this magazine too are not very affordable. What I’m trying to say here is that when magazines do not show the people what 3/4th of the country lives on; if these magazines do not show what we can actually afford, what is the point? Is it just another pamphlet showing the rich what they can buy this season, and reminding the poor where they stand? 

What really is luxury?

I don’t want to seem like a hypocrite to the people who know me in reality, so I’m going to admit it; I am a brand freak. But one must never lose perspective of what is a ‘want’ and what is ‘need’. One must never think that luxury and class are equivalent to money and richness. No, that’s not how it works. The concept of ‘luxury’ has been there since the beginning of civilization. The obvious divide between social classes in earlier civilizations brought the concept that luxury was limited to the elite classes. And that shaped and redefined the definition of luxury. Everything the poor couldn’t have and the elite could was labelled as luxury. 

While this word is used in everyday lives to refer to certain lifestyle, the definition is specific to consumers and situations. An ice-cream would be a really big luxury item for you if you earned less than a $ per day. But if you are going to a party in the so called “elite” sector of the society, a $100,000 car may not be a luxury, but something of an embarrassment.

This brings out a multi dimensional perspective towards what luxury really is, and what media and society needs to promote, and what the true idea behind this word is. The attempts always define luxury such as high price, high quality, uniqueness, exclusivity etc. However, even with the obvious staring right at our faces, why is it still unclear; ‘What is Luxury?’ 

So what do you think is luxury? 

SHOULD PROSTITUTION BE MADE COMPLETELY LEGAL IN INDIA, OR SHOULD IT REMAIN WITH LIMITED LEGALITY?

So, I was just going through few articles and statistics, to keep myself from getting bored in the library, and I came across the term ‘Prostitution’, and the biggest question that followed, ‘Should prostitution be made legal in India?’

Before reading this article, you should know that yes, prostitution is legal in India, but the definition is limited to the exchange of money for sex, and does not include pimping, brothel-keeping and soliciting sex in any other way. In other words, prostitution has limited legality in India.

Firstly, for anyone new to this term, prostitution is the practice or occupation of engaging in sexual activity with someone for payment. This is the definition you’ll find on Google. This is probably the only definition you’ll find anywhere. There has been a huge never-ending argument if this profession (point to be noted: it isn't considered a profession in the first place by many in this country) should be made completely legal or not. Even if it is legal, should it be regulated? Should the law be amended where complete liberty is given to the prostitutes? Should it be made illegal again? There are countries where prostitution is completely legal, few of them are Singapore, Argentina, Belgium, New Zealand, UK and Venezuela. In Afghanistan, Cambodia, Angola, Egypt, Iraq, South Africa, Saudi Arabia, UAE and a few other countries, prostitution is illegal. And then, there are few countries similar to India, like Bangladesh, United States, Australia, Iceland and Malaysia, where the laws show limited legality. 

Few argue that it should be made completely legal. When asked why, the answers held reasons like these; 

1. Prostitution has been around since the beginning of mankind. Most anti-prostitution laws were passed over a 100 years ago. It happens every day throughout the world, so why not make money off it and reduce the risk in it? It is simply two consenting adults exchanging a service for money. It should be as legal as a plumber’s profession or as that of a maid. Also like plumbers, sex workers could also form work unions to gain more rights.
2. The number of rapes would decrease, as desperation would find an outlet.
3. STD's are usually contracted from a non-prostitute, because prostitutes keep themselves in check. So, STD’s would decrease.
4. The fight against human trafficking can be fought in a better way, because people’s legal consent would be obtained without fear. (What?) 
5. It could be taxed and the government could benefit out of it. Not exactly a profit for the client, but still, a profit on the whole.
6. Sex is good for your health and it is scientifically proven. If more people in India have sex, maybe we'd be a little less of an obese country and it may lower heart disease. (Of course!)
7. More jobs, which would reduce unemployment. 
8. If abortion is legal, why not prostitution? We always hear the argument "It's my body..." right? Why doesn't it apply to this subject?
9. People are doing it regardless of what the law says. Drugs can have a negative effect on a person, but prostitution has very few minor downsides, so what’s the harm?
10. There would be less crimes regarding sex.
11. The government would not only be able to make money of taxed prostitution, but save on various places where they have to invest, like the police, the prison, etc. It’s beneficial for the country. 
12. If the woman is encouraged to use her mind and make a living, why can’t she be allowed to use her body?

Few, on the other hand, were against prostitution being made legal and wanted the status to change. Reasons are as follows:

1. There is a huge risk that a person might get affected by HIV/AIDS.
2. There are other ways to make a living. There are so many other jobs, then why this?
3. Women have other choices, but it is cheap to find an easy way out.
4. It is wrong to women to sell their bodies, because it is disrespectful.
5. It makes the men look like they are the dominant sector of the society and use women. (Aren't there male prostitutes too?)
6. Real men don’t buy women.
7. As a prostitute get’s older, you really think she’ll be able to continue as a prostitute? What will she do for a living then?
8. High risk of dying.
9. Men can rape these prostitutes, but find an easy way out by stating that it is legal.
10. There are not only women who are prostitutes; there are also children who are prostitutes, who have been forced into this profession. How fair is that?
11. It affects the moral status of the society.
12. The prostitutes might turn into drug addicts and alcoholics or support these illegal activities.
13. Health related issues will emerge, and respect in the society will founder.
14. Prostitutes might not find other jobs, and they would also have no one who could take care of them, causing emotional and psychological damage, depression and loneliness.
15. Have sex, but not on the streets or in a strangers car. Keep it classy and less trashy. It’s called making love for a reason.

After the survey, I decided not to take sides when writing about this issue, but to ask a simple yet complicated question to you readers, “What is your opinion about this issue?” 

(Please comment below.)

A WHITE MAN IS A KIND MAN; A COLORED MAN- A TERRORIST.

Religious wars are basically people killing each other over who has the better imaginary friend.

-Napoleon Bonaparte

It’s Sunday. Like every other Sunday, I woke up and religiously started to go through all the social networking sites I am active in, to see what I missed out on in the entire week; even before I’m out of bed. Once in a while though, I come across posts from different pages that make me stop, not scroll down, and think. And I came across one today.

A Muslim shooter means the entire religion is guilty.

A Black shooter means the entire race is guilty.

A White shooter means he’s a mentally troubled lone wolf.

Now this might seem like just another post to few people, some might even comment LOL on it. But it is so much more than that. We often relate terrorism to Muslims. We relate rage and destruction to the Blacks. But we relate civilization, sane behavior and judgement to the Whites. You might oppose this, but you and I both know that this is true. When I say ‘close your eyes and imagine a terrorist’, I am sure as hell you would never imagine a white man holding a gun and shooting people. Why is it that when you are asked to imagine a terrorist, you never imagine a person whose face you cannot see; that you can just see a figure- just see him holding a gun and shooting innocent people. No, I am not excluding myself from this question; I belong to the same society that includes you in it too. 

Race, religion, and geographical set ups; they are not platforms on which we can judge people. What if none of these existed? What if there was no religion? Who would you blame? On what basis would you blame them? Would you accuse them of being a stone hearted insane inhumane person, or would you simply say “you’re Muslim”? If you do some research on it, you’ll know that most of the terrorist activity in the U.S in recent years has not come from Muslims, but actually from radical Christians, militant groups and White supremacists. After 9/11, every attack had been associated with Islam, and what it preaches. So much, that media gives it a week’s coverage and highlights every possible link and connection, cause and effect; even if the number of casualties ranges from 1 to 1000. But how often is the terrorism by any other religion highlighted so much? When a Sikh man was killed in the Wisconsin Sikh temple massacre on Aug 5th of 2012, by a White supremacist- Wade Michael Page- who mistook him for a Muslim, the media didn’t highlight this much, did it? Not a lot of people know about this, because I was one of them. 

The murder of Dr. George Tiller, May 31, 2009; everybody imagined that a physician had been the victim of an attempted assassination by an Islamic jihadist in 1993, and received numerous death threats from al-Qaeda after that, before being murdered by an al-Qaeda member. Yes, the physician was the victim of a terrorist killing that day, but neither the terrorist nor the people who inflamed the terrorist were Muslims. Dr. George Tiller, who was shot and killed by anti-abortion terrorist Scott Roeder on May 31, 2009, was a victim of Christian Right terrorism, not al-Qaeda. There are a lot of other examples like this, but why does it never come to the limelight? Why are Muslims the first people to be examined; judged? Why the Blacks are considered shooters? Why is it that they all in the same category, just because one man couldn’t think straight and choose between what is right and what isn’t. 

And why is it that a White man’s crime doesn’t lead to his whole race being blamed? 

Whatever the reason is, it is wrong. It is wrong to blame anybody for a mistake they didn’t do. Things like caste, creed, race and religion are not something nature did, it is something we created. We are born into it, and not born with it. Even if you’re a Muslim, Hindu, Sikh or a Christian, think twice before categorizing the an entire religion as bad, because the Holy texts and the religions are the solutions and not creators of the problems, if one truly understands that in the end, no matter which religion or race you belong to, peace is the only thing that’ll keep you going. Wars and judgements based on religion is nothing but useless in the end, because if you didn’t have  religion to follow, who would you truly be? 

Something to think about; make your conversations count.

R.I.P: REST IN PIECES?

“What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or in the holy name of liberty or democracy?” 

― Mahatma Gandhi

The only child to survive, standing in the middle of ruins, searching eagerly through the rumbles; dusts, dirt, smoke and blood. She is searching for her brothers, who took care of her. Her mother; where was she? She was supposed to serve lunch. After all, Ma had promised to cook her favourite dish. She doesn’t search for her father; she knows he is in a place she can’t go to. Crying and frightened, she’s going in circles. Searching for anything she can find; aimlessly, madly. She finally finds a hand sticking out in the ruins, and she runs for it. Her mother’s hand; she holds it, she feels safe. But something was wrong. Why wasn’t Ma holding her back? She carefully bends down, to look at Ma’s face, and ask her why. But she doesn’t look at her mother, she looks at a face; eyes open, staring back infinitely, cold… dead. The girl screams. She falls back, stands up, and screams; there is nothing else she can do. This place was her home; now, a graveyard. She turns to run, but she freezes at the sight of a rifle pointing at her. Her killer looks at her, forgets her innocence; forgets his. He aims at her, searching for a blank space. Ah, her forehead.

She breathes her last.

Now, go back to the first sentence. What if that child was you? What if you were the one instead of her? What if it was your child in that place, and you could do nothing about it? How would you feel? 

Trying to think of an answer? Don’t bother, because you are no way near to what it actually must have felt like to the thousands who face such situations every day when their countries go on wars for peace. What you know, is how it feels to be still sitting on your couch, reading this article, a roof above your head, and some food to eat. But not everybody lives a blessed life like yours. 

Perhaps the biggest irony that was ever existed lies in the famous quote, “War for Peace”; none of us truly understand it though. No, I’m not saying the Defence isn’t necessary. After all, to a soldier, what’s standing in front of him doesn’t matter; he’s fighting for what is behind him. And there must be a reason. But funnily enough, nobody can understand what that reason is. No one can see the reason. Thousands of Dollars/Rupees/Euros go into building the army of a country; even quarter of which doesn’t go the poor and starving of the same country. Personally, I don’t understand the point of this. Each country invests millions of Dollars in nuclear weapons. Thousands of weapons lie around; some are not even accounted. There are an estimated total of 20,500 nuclear warheads in the world today. If the average power of these devices is 33,500 Kilotons, there are enough to destroy the total earth landmass." And why do we need so many of these things again? Who is going to stand here and witness the amazing after effect of war, and everything you’ve conquered if there is nobody alive? No, I’m not going to talk about war, and the causes of war, because we know there are many; religion, land, oil, terrorism, ‘combating terrorism’, the list goes on. Name the causes of peace? The one and only cause is war itself. Without rain, there wouldn’t be sunshine. Without dusk, there wouldn’t be dawn. Without war, nobody would ever know what the value of peace is. And today, we’ve had enough wars to show us that now is the time we need to start respecting the place of peace in our lives. I’m not here to talk about war and its effects. I’m here to talk about peace.

It’s not easy as you think it is; peace is harder than war. The day you drop those rifles, the day you give your children flowers instead of guns; that is the day you’ll find peace. But who would make them drop the guns in the first place? Nobody. Everyone wants change today; nobody is ready to change though. We see war on television, we see number of deaths, number of injuries, but not once we do think of what happens after the war has ended? Those who survive war do not see life the way we do; they’re scarred forever. You think terrorists are born? No, terrorists are made! And situations make them that way. Wars make them terrorists. Their parents were innocent people, killed in war for oil, killed due to religion, killed in search of one man, who wasn’t related to them in any way. If you hadn’t invested on war, but instead invested on their education, they’d know what their religion truly meant. They’d have the power to sit and think straight, like you and I. The war for peace is itself a form of terrorism. By killing millions of innocent people every year, how are you restoring peace? By not feeding the poor, the needy and the backward, how are you restoring peace? By not providing education, by not showing what love is, for not letting them live to feel love, how are you restoring peace? 

I wouldn’t say war isn’t necessary; but how long? Do we- the civilized people, the ones who know how to care, nurture and cherish- need war for this long? Is it really victory? In war, the only victory you claim is over a million dead bodies, which will rot eventually. What was the use of war all along, if the result doesn’t last even a few days? But peace; it gives you the power to let a person live. You are gifting a person the most precious thing on earth: life. Peace is not a philosophy. Peace is something that has to be experienced. No matter what you have achieved in life, if you have not experienced peace, then everything feels empty; incomplete. This is not for someone else. This is for you. You need peace, and the person next to you does too. Every human being can fulfil their heart, can fulfil this life. Gift a mother another day with her child. Gift a young girl another day with her brother. Gift a father another day with his family. Gift a lover another day with his reason to live. Gift a baby another reason to smile, to grow up, and to look forward to being a part of this world. It is the most beautiful thing possible in this short life. Why can’t we be a part of it?

DOES NEW YEAR REALLY MEAN A NEW BEGINNING?

“Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.” 

-Oprah Winfrey

Before I begin this article, I just want to wish all my readers a very Happy New Year! I hope we all have the strength to accept everything that happens in 2015- good or bad, and I just hope we can live with it.

I was supposed to talk about dreams in this article, but since it is the 4th day of a ‘new year’, I just thought I’ll talk about what ‘new year’ actually is; because it is the newest thing right now! Look around and you’ll observe that there are 3 ways to approach a ‘new year’. 

1) “OH MY GOD! I’ve no idea how a year just flew by, and it’s already 2015! A new year! A fresh beginning! Let me party and celebrate this amazing gift by nature/god/guy-who-invented-the-calendar and make the most of it! YAY!” (This is 1/4th of how I approach it!)

2) “What’s the big deal man? Just another disappointing year of existence on earth, just another day, just another hour, why give a damn? If we were lost in a desert, and we didn’t know what the date was, would we celebrate New Year? All this is just bullshit invented by the stupid gift stores to loot money!” (Basically, a realistic approach. Or an approach of a skinny lady whose New Year resolution is not to lose weight.) 

3) “New Year huh? You mean, there’s a lot of cake and stuff? Like, I get free food? So, this is an amazing opportunity to eat more food? Hell yeah!” (Now this is 3/4th of what New Year means to me!)

I know each one has a different approach to New Year, but I’m an optimistic person; rarely, and I find New Year to be a really good chance to start over. Often we don’t give importance to the opportunities that come in our way. We take them for granted and shove it aside. I guess that’s what happens when life gives us too many chances, but hey, life isn’t a selfish bit*h. No matter how much you hate it, a New Year signifies that you’re blessed to have lived to witness it. It signifies a new chance. No, I don’t agree that it’s a new beginning. But I believe in chances. A beginning means something new. But let’s face it, there’s not much to begin every day or every year. But maybe you did begin with something a long time ago, and with every passing year, you’re getting a chance to get it right. If you ignore this, you’re just ignoring life. 

We’re humans, we dwell on hope, we dwell on chances, on possibilities and no matter how much we deny it, we all know that if we’re given a chance to write an exam again (even if we’ve failed in it a million times, and we’re sure we’ll fail this time too), we still won’t back out from accepting that opportunity and trying again. Why not New Year then? After all, life is just another exam without any syllabus. 

“Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.” -Carl Bard

I love this quote. When we graduate high school they tell us we have our whole lives in front of us. Whether we’re off to college or exploring the world, we begin a whole new chapter. Independence.

A starting point. You can just picture that open highway stretched out to infinity before you, beckoning to a future somewhere out on that horizon that calls you to adventure. All that you will become lies out there. But most of us don’t want to see this highway. Most of us never learn to appreciate where we are at this very moment because we’re so focused on what happened (or didn’t happen) in the past that no longer exists and worried about a future that hasn’t happened yet. We don’t realize that this future is still in our hands and that we have an option to change it. We don’t realize that the past was in our hands too, and we let it slip. If we can’t change our past, why dwell on it? If we can change the future, then why dwell on it?  Just seize every opportunity and treat every day as a new chance. After all, with every chance you ignore, you’re missing out on an opportunity to change your life. Every chance you miss is like the time that just flies by; there’s no getting it back. 

So go out there, believe in yourself, take this chance, and change. Change yourself; you’ll be changing a part of this world. Change yourself, and you’ll be letting go of the past. Change yourself, and you’ll be changing your future. Each of us has a unique story we’re supposed to tell. That’s why we’re here. So go ahead and write history, because you owe it to your chance. You owe it to a New Year. You owe it to every second, every minute, every hour of every day. 

You owe it to yourself.

DISTANCE IS JUST A WORD

Distance is just a word.

“You often don’t realize how much you love a person till distance comes between you and them.”

I never really gave a thought about staying away from home. I always thought I’d be in Bangalore, going to the same college as my best friends. I never thought I had the courage to give up Science and choose Humanities. But most of all, I’d never thought I had to move away from my friends and family, because of what I chose. I knew that following your dreams would cost you, but I didn’t know this would be the price.

Until my 10^th grade, I never had to worry about my friends. We were a group of four, wrapped in our own little bubble, not caring about the rest of the world. We made plans together, imagined a future together. We promised we’d be in the same school, but of course, that didn’t happen. After my 7^th grade, the closest friend I had, Sanjna, was forced into changing her school. 5 of us were reduced to 4, and there was no way that I could fill up that void. She is a part of my childhood; the part I’d trade anything for- to relive it. The times we fought over a piece of chocolate covered in dirt, the times we got kicked out of class (which was pretty much every day), the times we spent thinking about how we’d end up famous by the age of 16; these were the times when I learnt how to think big, dream big, and enjoy life to the fullest. But the beginning of 8^th grade still had a lot in store for me. I didn’t have my best friend, it was devastating, but that wasn’t it. Our classes got shuffled. Thankfully, one person from my group of four ended up in this class; the one whom I’ve known all my life- Surabhi. She’s a major part of who I am today. From the very first day of my Montessori school, till date, she’s not heard my stories. She’s lived them with me. And I just realized I’ve never really thanked her for that.  (If you read this. I love you!) Three years passed smoothly, even with its ups and downs, the 4 of us managed to cling to the boat as much as possible. But all fairy tales need to end, and mine ended on 26^th March 2012. That was the day my 10th-grade board exams ended. Of course, we had promised to stay together but life had a different plan for us. Out of the 4, three of them went to state colleges, and only I decided to stay back in school for my higher secondary education. I cursed myself months together for what I did, but looking back, I now know that it was one of the best decisions I ever took.

11^th grade was probably the most challenging year for me because I’d never had the need to make friends before, and now, I had to start from the scratch. Luckily, one day, I landed in the last bench, having no other place to sit, because I was late to class. This tiny little girl whom I had ignored throughout my school life was sitting to my right, and I didn’t speak a word. “Can I borrow the pencil?” I heard. I simply nodded, not wanting to talk. “Can I borrow the ruler?” I nodded again. “I’m so sorry I borrowed your stuff” repeated the same voice again, at the end of the class. “Woman, if you behave this formally once again, I will slap you!” I barked out. And that’s how Sravya and I became friends! I slowly began to mingle with people I knew (the ones who had a history with my old group of friends) and the ones who were friends with the girl sitting next to me. I can’t go into details, but if somebody came to me back then and told me that these people would mean so much to me today, I’d have given them the address of the nearest mental hospital. Today, I would call myself the luckiest person alive to have such people in my life.

After high-school, there is a time when you just lose your mind! College options, courses, the tension, the pressure, your future- all of it makes you forget the value of things around you. I don’t think anybody makes mistakes or breaks promises as much as they do during this time! I had promised Varun that I would study architecture in the same college as him. I'm sorry I didn't keep my word, but I love you! (And if I've not thanked you for staying up all night listening to my bullshit, or for being the reason for 3/4th of my laughter till date, let me just tell you that I love you more than anyone else can!) Pranjali and I had plans of going shopping every weekend once we’re in college. Today, I see her once in 6 months. It all happened so fast, it was hard for us to keep up. The day I got my acceptance letter to Manipal, I knew I wouldn’t look back. I knew there was just one chance in my hand- and the only chance perhaps- to pursue my dream, and I didn’t look back. Neither did Pranjali. While everybody stayed back in Bangalore, we were moving away. And I didn’t know what I was leaving behind, till I left.

It’s been 6 months now; one semester. I know it’s not long, but it seems like it was just yesterday that we got our letters. Just yesterday, when Pranjali and I sat and discussed the things we had to pack. Just yesterday, that we bid farewell to all our friends, anticipating what was to come. If somebody tells you that things will never change, they’re lying. If you aren’t losing friends with time, you’re not growing up. The number of times you talk to your friends' decrease. Your promises of Skyping every day become mere words. The calls reduce over time, and you make new friends. Fights increase; misunderstandings too. The feeling of not knowing increases. But what doesn’t change a bit is how much you value that person in your life. What doesn’t change one bit is the hollow feeling you have inside you; without them. When one mentions long distance relationships, it is our tendency to think of couples, but that’s not true. Long distance friendships are even harder to manage. They make you realize that each and every moment spent with them, which seemed so ordinary back then, is something you value and treasure now. On those occasional calls and chats, you talk about your old days, laugh about those stupid pranks you played, cry over old crushes and heartbreaks, bitch about the people you hate (or don’t hate at times), criticize how stupid those old plans were, and wish how you were still together. There are times when you call your friend at 3 am, and talk about life. (Yes, that happens, and Pranjali, I can't thank you enough for being there every time. I love you too!) Everything about them becomes so special. Their birthdays become the most important day in history and you make sure you do everything you can to make them feel special even in your absence. At times, you also make sure that you get super emotional just to make sure they miss you too. The number of selfies you take and the number of social networking sites you’re on increases, just to make sure they keep up with your life. The best days are those when you return home; the semester breaks. That feeling when you see them for the first time after so long, the ‘catching up’ sessions, the stupidity; all of it makes you feel like that moment, which comes so rare, that moment should never end. 

No matter how many friends you make in your life, no matter how many people you meet every day, or how happening your life is, nothing can replace the friends you make in your childhood. These people know you like nobody else. They loved you even when you looked like a douche. They love you even after puberty did wonders to you. They love you at your best, and they’ve seen you at your worst. Each one of them, whether they've been with you for a day, or all your life, has contributed in the making of who you are today. If you're proud of yourself today, then thank them for being a major part of it. They were the ones who saw something special in you before the world could. These are the people worth fighting for; these are the people who deserve to stay in your life. No matter how far you are, never give up on them. If you have a friend who played an important part in your life, if you made memories with them, then call them up right now and show them how much they mean to you. After all, ‘distance’ is just a word.

I love you all.

HOW ABOUT A PET PLANT?

Horcrux and me with Horcrux.

“Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it's dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.” ― Tupac Shakur, The Rose That Grew from Concrete

“What?” Rakshan asked.
“My pet plant” I said.
“I didn’t know people had stuff like that!”
“Nobody does. It’s just my pet plant!” I replied.

All my life, I’ve never really had a pet that stayed with me. Oh wait, I don’t mean my pets hated me and that’s why they didn’t stay with me. No, that’s not what I mean. Let me give you an example. So, when my dad finally decided to get me a puppy, in 3^rd grade, I was more than happy! But a week after ‘Jimmy Sr’ and I shared 23 hours a day playing with each other, the previous owner decided to pay a visit and cried over the fact that his son was missing the puppy, and that he wanted to take it back home. ‘WHAT! Are you serious? Your son hates dogs! That’s why this puppy is with me! Get out uncle! Go get your son another puppy, Jimmy Sr is mine!’ was my mental response. “Oh, but, I really like him. Doesn’t your son want any other puppy? Oh okay, you can take him” was my actual response. What did you expect? I was a helpless 3^rd grader, that’s all. Few months passed, and after hours and hours of begging, my dad got me another puppy! Jimmy Jr! This was during my final exams, and even if it was just 3^rd grade, my mom asked my dad to keep the puppy away for a few days, so I could study. Well, it was just a puppy and it fell in love with its temporary owner, and I didn’t get it back. The third (and the last attempt) was in 7^th grade when my dad finally got me another puppy! Jimmy the Third. By now, you must have realised that I have a thing for the name-Jimmy.  Want to know what happened to this one? Nothing. I sent it to my brother’s place to let him train my dog. And it stayed there. Yes, I know; pretty depressing.

But dogs were not the only pets I had. I’ve had my fair share with rabbits, which didn’t last long. A hamster; which my brother stole when I wasn’t home. Love birds; loads of them, which I couldn’t cuddle or anything, but hey, I got to see a lot of action, the eggs that followed, and some cute little chicks (or baby birds, whatever) that joined the family. But they got really old, and we had to give them away to a young boy, who took them home with great joy and hope. I heard they died within a week. Poor boy. The most wonderful experience I have had with pets is when a street cat- which I rescued when it was a kitten- decided to make love to my neighbour’s cat and ended up pregnant! Was I happy or what! And 3 kittens became a part of my life! But that was not it. The cat got pregnant again, but this time, 5 cute kittens were born! And that was how I got Thoppe, my kitten! This kitten was born huge, like super huge and it grew up to just grow fatter and fatter!
But yeah, like every other not-so-happy ending, I had to give all of them away because I was going away to college, and my parents couldn’t take care of such a huge number. Amidst all this mess, I realised I already had a pet, which I never noticed; my plant.

In April of 2013, I suddenly woke up one day and decided I wanted a plant. Okay, it wasn’t so sudden. I’d watched the movie Orphan, and I was so fascinated by those white roses in the movie, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. There were around 50 plants in my home already, but I decided I wanted one of my own. And that’s how the plant with white roses ended up in my home. Till I wrote this article, my plant was called ‘The plant’. I realised how depressing that sounded, so I decided to name it Horcrux; a part of my soul. Let me tell you something. Having a plant for a pet isn’t a bad idea at all. If you can, you should try it out too! It doesn’t poop, and that’s the biggest advantage. It’s helping you live, like literally, by providing oxygen. It listens to you, and it doesn’t judge you. Neither does it get cuddly, nor does it walk away. There is no way I can develop an allergy to it, and I don’t find fur all over my bed. Horcrux is the most saint-like creature I’ve ever met; just sitting in a corner, with a halo over it. Asking the plant for advice is like asking me what calculus is. The plant doesn’t speak. It doesn’t know English. The plant will sit there and stare at you till you come up with your own advice. See? Life skills. We all know that having a pet puts you into the ‘less likely to be depressed’ category immediately, even if your pet is a plant. Another positive aspect of it is that you never have to exercise or run around, which you need to do if you have a dog. You never have to share food. Ever. You’ll never feel lonely either. And the best part about Horcrux is that it never grew bigger than what it was when I saw it. But you might not be that lucky.

Basically, my point is, if you’re crying over the fact that you are lonely in life, or that things have fallen apart, or if you just want a pet and your parents refuse to get you one, then go ahead and buy a plant! Talk to it, treat it like a human, care and nurture it. Believe me, it’s completely worth it.

And also, now that you all know I have a saint-like plant for a pet, we’re going to have one “shrink session” with it, every week (whether you like it or not) which involves a few Q&A’s about life. And love. And all the other bullshit, to gain knowledge on what it means to a plant. Till then, take care.

With love (and some brain fertilizer),
Horcrux & Owner.

TRUST ME; I'M LYING.

"Whoever controls the media controls the mind." - Jim Morrison

One of the biggest challenges faced by the society today is controlling their own mind. How often do we see a person with an original opinion? How often do we value a person’s opinion? Be it something as major as wanting a particular prime minister, to something as trivial as choosing a movie to watch, we blindly follow what the media says; rarely questioning it. Being a media student myself, I still come under its influence. No, I’m not trying to say “Lady Gaga wants to control our minds”. That is not the case. She is simply a small part of the huge system that is the mass media.


Mass media are media forms designed to simply reach the largest audience possible. They include TV, movies, radio, newspapers, magazines, books, records, video games, and the internet; basically everything under the sun. We don’t see such a large network of communication owned by the common man. It’s for the common man, by the elite. Confused? Let me break it down for you. When Reliance (owned by Mukesh Ambani, one of the richest men in India- elite, didn’t I tell you?) took over Network 18, which owns CNN IBN-one of the best news channels in India- nobody was surprised to know that it was the death of Media Independence. Following the takeover, was a massive drop in the information provided to us on the negative side of Reliance Industries Ltd. And when we do not see (or not allowed to see) the negative aspect of a situation, we blindly believe that the subject in the situation came straight out of the Bible. Does this mean that our independence to think freely and have our own opinion is under danger? One word, yes. Your brain is dead meat.
My point is that an ignorant population does not know its rights, does not seek a greater understanding of issues and does not question authorities. It simply follows trends. It simply follows the media. Popular culture nurtures this ignorance by continually serving them some brain-numbing entertainment. Some feed them by spotlighting degenerate celebrities to be idolized. I’m not saying media’s influence is always bad. My point is that the extent to which you let it influence you is bad. If you ask me, “Is there a way to stop this?”  Yes, there is.
STOP BUYING THEIR CRAP AND MAKE YOUR OWN DECISIONS.

True, that media just influences us and our decisions are our own, but what if you’re influenced to such an extent that you believe there are no choices? Let me give you few examples from different sectors.

1. When we elected for Mr.  Narendra Modi, as Prime Minister, (Oh please, you and I both know we didn’t vote for BJP, we voted for Modi) how many of them truly weighed pros and cons that would follow, and how many of them went with the herd? Around 65-70% of India’s population would fall under the second category. Modi, with his excellent PR and Advertising agencies, wiped out the thought from our minds that other candidates existed too. Remember the famous slogan, “Abki baar Modi sarkar”? Remember how memes and statuses emerged up in thousands of numbers and everybody was sharing it? Yes, it seems funny now, but go back in time and think about it. If it wasn’t for the media’s influence, would you really be campaigning? In fact, half of them didn’t even know that in the process of posting a status as a joke, they were indirectly campaigning for him.

2. Justin Beiber. How many of you hate him? Woah, that’s a large number! Okay, hands down. I’m not a fan myself, but why do you hate him? If you have a genuine reason, then you’re excused, but if you don’t, then whose influence are you under? The media.  Half the people don’t even know why they hate him. They haven’t heard his songs, they haven’t seen the videos, neither have they seen him making out with a guy. But no, they choose to look beyond the obvious and hate him.

3. Ever got a shampoo with some hope to have hair like Katrina Kaif? Finished the disgusting packs of Kellogg’s K to get a figure like Deepika Padukone? Even flaunted a style like Tom Cruise from one of movies, or tried talking like Benedict Cumberbatch from Sherlock Holmes? What are you really doing there? If it weren’t for those serials and advertisements, which product would you choose? Whose style would you copy? The media packed these products like little Christmas presents and kept them there, and man, were you fast in grabbing the presents or what!

4. Finally, the social media! We live in a generation where a life without Facebook, WhatsApp, and YouTube isn’t considered a 'life' in the first place. “Dude, what’s your Facebook ID?” “Uh man, I don’t have one!” “What!? Dude, get a life!” We don’t notice how we keep going back to our pages, like how I keep coming back to this blog, we keep checking for notifications, and we let online game rule our world. Of-course, we live in an era where social media is necessary to show our existence on earth. But at times- influenced by media- we fantasize about our life so much, that we lose perspective of it.

“If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, it expects what never was and never will be.”

– Thomas Jefferson

THE CONTENTS OF THE HALF FULL GLASS

The contents of the hall full glass.

“And you’re awake because?” she asked for the 6^th time.

“Just because”, I answered casually, not knowing what else to say.

Before I begin with this article, I just want to say that yes, I noticed my blog looks different now, and the caption is different too (just in-case you haven’t noticed, please scroll up) and this was what I was doing at 4 am in the morning- I was modifying my blog. And to warn you, this article is all about my caption. Planning on closing the page already? Don’t even think about it.

I always thought I was one of those people who could never sit in a place and write. I never really imagined opening a blog in the first place. It was probably in August when a lecturer from my college gave us the assignment of opening a blog. My immediate reaction was “What the? I need to write? Shoot me already”, which was followed by crying over my desk, wailing on my way to hostel, and cribbing about it to my roommate. With great difficulty, I successfully managed to open a blog and post two articles (which lie somewhere in the beginning of the blog now) and that was it! I promised myself I wasn’t going to blog about anything and drifted to what seemed like a peaceful slumber. Days passed, and nothing happened- till one day, I walked past one of my classmates who seemed completely lost in an article he was typing, and I ended up disturbing him; as usual. After a brief conversation, he popped a question. “Why don’t you blog?” Why don’t I blog? Are you kidding me? Give me one reason why I would even think of blogging and wasting my time rather than doing something useful- like doing nothing. “I can’t write for shit” was what I answered after some mental math. “Who cares if you can write well, or if people would like it? You can write- that’s what matters. I’m sure somebody will stumble upon your useless blog and read it!” Yeah, thanks a lot man, but ain’t nobody got time for that. “Yeah, let’s see about that!” I barked out and left. For some reason though, I was surprised by how optimistic he was. Okay maybe he wasn’t that optimistic, but at-least he wasn’t negative like me. I tried to get it off my mind, but the thought kept running back in. I realized that while I looked at the half empty glass and cribbed about life, he could look at the half full glass and make the most of it. That’s when I started blogging. Over time, blogging has become something I like to do, and not forced to do anymore. It’s given me a platform to express my thoughts and make people visualize them. In life, we often ignore the small things that can make huge changes and always search for the big picture. We’re pessimistic about anything and everything that doesn’t go our way. Yes, that includes me too, stop judging. We get so caught up in making everything look perfect. If we’re asked to blog, we complicate simple ideas by using big words, and making the reader go “What’s happening? Am I stupid, am I dyslexic?” It’s a blog, not a dictionary! We’re so caught up in the race of becoming better than the other person that we begin to find faults in ourselves; some of them don’t even exist. We make our life the half empty glass. On the other hand, people see the half full glass in different ways. A capitalist would just paste a sticker on it which says iGlass, and sell it for $50. An opportunist would just drink the glass of water and walk away, while an ideologist would try to provide unlimited energy from a glass of water and end the war. A realist doesn’t care if the glass is empty or full, it’s just a glass to him. But the best way to see it- is to see it as an optimist. The one who can see the positive side of any situation. The one who can make someone’s life better. The one who doesn’t dwell on a problem, but looks for a solution. The one who can encourage people and tell them that they are worth something; the one who can see the beauty in everything. The one who chooses to see the huge white plain canvas in front of him, and draw a beautiful landscape called life on it, than devote his attention to the dirt on the edge of the canvas. This is the way of life we are in need of today. So, instead of cursing myself for missing out on sleep, as usual, I’m going to think of it as an opportunity to write. But yeah, it's 5 am already, and I’m just human, so I better sleep.

Remember, the glass is always half full.

SINCE WHEN DID SPILLING INNOCENT BLOOD BECOME THE ONLY SOLUTION?

“An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.” – Mahatma Gandhi

We come across this quote more than often. We see it, we hear it, but do we understand it? The answer we received came as no shock when we saw the headlines read out “132 children killed as Taliban gunmen storm Peshawar school” on the 16^th of December, 2014.

And that answer is ‘No.’

When one talks about the gruesome killing that took place in Peshawar, Pakistan, we are immediately reminded of the headlines the news show us, the information they provide, the statistics showing the number of deaths, and probably a moment or two of sadness that we are duty bound to express. We post statuses, write blogs, discuss all about these killings, but do you really think the terrorists groomed by Taliban care about your opinion? No, they don’t. But do you think you can change one human’s view about revenge, about terrorism? Then don’t think twice before posting a status against it. The slaughter, carried out by six Taliban terrorists, is the single worst terror attack in the country's history and one of the most brutal assaults on a school anywhere. Even in conflict-driven Pakistan, it came as an unprecedented act.

The Pakistani Taliban took responsibility for the massacre, calling it retaliation for the military's ongoing campaign against the Taliban militants' strongholds in the tribal areas along the border with Afghanistan. Mohammad Khurasani, the spokesperson of Taliban, accused the Pakistan Army of killing innocent children and families of Taliban fighters, and warned the world that more is yet to come. For the Pakistani Taliban, schools are vulnerable, or often called "soft targets." By some accounts, Taliban has struck at more than 1,000 schools in the country since 2009. All of this is merely to feed one word; revenge. Revenge is an immortal word with its root dug deep into our minds. Often, it is worse than the word ‘terrorism’. The description of terrorism is vague, because to the world, Taliban are terrorists; to them, we are. But the meaning of revenge stays constant throughout. As hard as it is to ignore the fact- even for a split second- that the Peshawar killing took innocent lives of children who deserved to live a beautiful life; we cannot overlook the hundreds who suffer and die due to public health crisis. Polio has paved its way back among children after the Taliban militants banned health workers from distributing vaccines, which was a consequence of the vaccination gambit by the CIA, in its search for Osama bin Laden. This has not only affected the civilians of Pakistan, but has also taken its toll on the Taliban families.

The Pakistani Taliban came into existence as a loose coalition of militant factions in Pakistan's restive border areas around 2007. It is an indigenous movement that largely targets the machinery of the state and Pakistani citizens, and its motive is to impose Shariah law on the country. Defeating the group, though, has proved to be extremely difficult. Complex geopolitics and funding from other terrorist groups, political appeasement, conspiracy mongering and denial serve as factors that feed the existence of Taliban.

In a world full of hatred and misery, bloodbaths and seclusion, helplessness and loneliness, one can only hope for a ray of happiness or a fragment of peace to settle on their lives; not the ashes that are carried in the air- ashes from the thousands of innocent human beings killed every day. Ashes of people who didn’t deserve what they got. Ashes of people who looked at the killer, right in the eye, and hoped for nothing except a peaceful world. Another day to look forward to; but were never granted their wish.

When the photos of the terrorists who carried out the massacre were released, the terrorists were seen holding automatic assault rifles and rocket launchers. We can never imagine what it must have felt like, but we can surely imagine the gaze of those cold eyes fixed on the child. The child, helplessly looking at his killer, with hopes to find mercy in those eyes, hopes to see his parents again, hopes to play with his sister after school, hope that he would survive. Instead, he was shot in the head at point blank range, and was tossed into the pile of other children, lying drenched in blood; cold. Dead. We can imagine the pain of the teacher who was burnt alive. We can imagine the state of the children trying to escape the militants, who went from one classroom to another, shooting indiscriminately. We can imagine the horror one boy has to live with, because he was the only one to survive out of the 10 friends who tried to escape. We can imagine the terror on the face of the woman whose daughter had escaped because her clothing was covered in blood from those around her and she had lain pretending to be dead. We can imagine the scores of survivors who were being treated in hospitals as frantic parents searched for news of their children. We can only imagine the same happening with the families of the Taliban militants. 

We can never feel it, we can only imagine.

It is harder to keep someone alive, than to kill them. It is harder to instil peace, than to declare war. It is hard, but not impossible. We may not be able to stop Taliban today, but we can teach our generation to value human life. We can teach them that love is a greater weapon than hatred. We can teach them that issues can be solved without violence if one can listen to the problem and search for a solution. We can try, not by telling them what or how to think, but to just think.

We can teach them that the best revenge is to not be like your enemy.

THE DIARY OF A SINGLE CHILD

Is being the only child really an issue?

“So, you have a brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s such a pain in the ass!” She said.  

“It must be fun though, right?”

“Oh let me guess, the only child? No siblings?” she asked.

“Yeah”, I tried my best to hide the disappointment.

“Typical spoilt brat you must be then!”

What? I mean, what just happened? It was the first day of college, and hello, I barely knew this girl for 5 minutes! I mean, out of all the people, I hadn’t judged her yet, and in less than 5 minutes I was moved from “She seems like a nice girl” to the “She’s a spoilt brat” category! Trust me; I just don’t know how that happened. And it wasn’t the first time either.

Till my 4^th grade, I’d never really felt bad about being the only kid. To be honest, it was fun! I got the attention; I didn’t have to share my toys, my books. I didn’t have to borrow anything. Basically, I thought being the only child was amazing! And my belief just grew stronger when I hung out with my friends. Note this, all of them had siblings! And every single time, all I heard was “You’ve no idea how lucky you are!” and I thought I was. Now, I won’t completely deny the fact that I’m lucky, because I never ever EVER had to fight for food, or even worse, share it. Until one day, I was alone in my home, locked in for my own safety, and I heard my neighbor laughing. She was younger than me, her brother was my age, and they were playing. I wanted to go out and play with them like I always had, but I realized that they didn’t ‘need’ me there! They were happy, spending time together, and I was home, locked up, and bored. When my mom returned, I decided to go and tell her what I’d been practicing all afternoon. “Mom, I want a baby” I barked out. “What?” “No no, I mean, I want you to have a baby. I want a brother!” Of course, this came as a shock to my mom, because I had never brought up this topic before! But I didn’t stop there. I told my dad, I told my cousins, and I told everybody I knew, that I wanted a brother, or I was going to bring my cousin home and keep him. “Keep him”, can you imagine? Like he was a toy or something! My parents didn’t take me seriously, until the 7^th grade. I came back home one day; crying. I’d seen my classmate take help from her elder brother who studied in the 11^th grade. It wasn’t a big deal really, but I came back home with a cloud of depression hanging over me. And, it lasted for days. Every time I’d see siblings, I’d get really emotional and start wondering how it would be if I had a brother. Would my life be better? Hell yeah. Would I have fun? Yes, obviously. Would my life suddenly have a rainbow over it? Yeah, is that even a question? This continued till my parents considered adoption seriously, and started off with the paperwork. And man, was I happy or what? I imagined a completely different life, like; I don’t even think I can explain it to anybody! Until one day, I just woke up to feel nothing. It was sudden. I just didn’t feel anything. I walked up to my parents and told them I didn’t want a brother. That’s all. I think my parents did hate me for a few minutes there because I was barking out bullshit. But I made it final, I didn’t want siblings. “Why?” they had asked. “Because I want all the property for myself.” I had answered.

But that’s not why I told them I didn’t want a brother. Of course, I’m happy about the property and the food, but really, that isn’t the reason! I’m never going to say I’m lucky for not having a sibling. I would have had someone to look up to maybe. I would have had someone to drive away my boredom with. I would’ve had someone to share my thoughts and feelings with. I would’ve had someone to be there for me even when my parents aren’t around in this world anymore. I would have, but I don’t. And that’s my life. But I would never say I am unlucky for not having a sibling either. And this is why. All my life, I’ve heard the stereotypical comment “You must be a spoilt brat!”, but I can assure you, at this very moment, that almost none of the kids who’ve had no siblings are spoilt brats! People often think that we get everything we want, and that we are pampered beyond belief, that we live life on our terms. It isn’t true. Our parents are well aware of the consequences, and they make sure we beg around 10 million times for something before we actually get it. In cases like mine, I actually have to wait for a teeny achievement or my birthday, to get stuff. Yes, we do get things in an easier way, compared to the kids who have siblings, but hey, we didn’t get what they will always have; a playmate in the form of a sibling! I agree that we don’t have to share things, but instead of making us arrogant, it usually makes us more considerate because we were never forced into sharing against our will. Sometimes, it’ almost like we don’t know how to say no to people because we’ve never had to do that! I never had to compete for my parents’ attention, and because I didn’t have siblings, my parents became my best friends. And believe me; I’d never be more thankful towards anything than that! We end up extra responsible because our parents don’t have anybody to expect from except us. We are the eldest kid in the house, and the youngest, and we never have anybody to blame except ourselves! No partner in crime! Our best friends become our brothers/sisters in all but blood because we see the ideal sibling in them and we cherish them! Often, single kids end up becoming more confident because they don’t really know what it is to be compared with a sibling. The other reason is that we’re often eager to get some company of our own age, that we push ourselves to go ahead and talk to strangers, make friends, find company, and this is one trait that will help us throughout our lives. But the one I love the most is that I can be an introvert or extrovert by choice! All my life, I’ve had no choice but to mingle with people, which I do enjoy, but at times, when I’m alone, I never feel lonely, because, over the years, I’ve learnt to appreciate and enjoy my own company, which was the reason I decided I didn’t want a brother. I could go on listing different reasons, but that’s not the point. The point is, we need to break the “single child” stereotype. No, life isn’t what you think it is for us! We’re not all brats, and we’re not sitting on a bed of roses! Personally, I would never want my child to be the only child, but hey, if you are one, just like me, and if you think it sucks being alone, then lean back, take a deep breath, go in front of a mirror, and say “Life is awesome!” because trust me; there will come a time when you know you are the best sibling you can ever get, and that you don’t need anybody else to face the world. There will come a time when you know things will be fine, and life will go on. And, also, you have a great chance of getting all the property! Till then, lean back and enjoy that slice of pizza, which you don’t have to share. Not everybody’s that lucky!