Valentine’s Day. What images does the day conjure up in your mind? Love, red roses, stolen kisses red hearts, chocolates, a day out with your date or an attempt to woo someone? Newspapers, magazines and websites are promoting Valentine’s Day with a kind of hectic frenzy that does not even accompany our national festivals. Don’t worry. I am not here to take the fizz out of this ‘loving’ day. What started off as an act of kindness for forsaken lovers has over the years transformed into a large scale industry. Attractively packed chocolate boxes, some even laced with alcohol to give you that aphrodisiac on that special day. Then, there are the perfumes, lingerie, heart-shaped balloons, some lovely expensive cheese n’ wine, teddy bears and of course red roses vying for equal attention! Not to leave out the DVDs, skin lotions, funky jewelry and of course the parties that supposedly add to the charm of Valentine’s Day. Why! You can even get a wee bit adventurous and book yourself and your Valentine a day at the spa where you can enjoy relaxing and rejuvenating time together. Oh! Did I leave out the matching tattoos?

People in this land of Kamasutra believe that love can be expressed and enhanced only on Valentine’s Day! That’s the current trendy mantra for the mobile totting, SMS and MMS generation of today. Love and sex come in one package and it is certainly not limited to committed relationships. The definition of love has changed for many. Instead of being an undying emotion for one person of yesteryears, today, it is an urgent instinct to be satiated. In such a situation, Valentine’s Day comes as a blessing in disguise. No wonder Roman Emperor Claudius had to adopt an entirely different mantra when faced with the ‘basic instinct’ of humans. Helpless before the carnal desires of his soldiers, he banned weddings! So, during the period of Claudius, when the ban was imposed, a priest Saint Valentine helped the soldiers in the Roman Emperor’s army to get married so that they could enjoy the fruits of love before they embarked on their battle duties!

Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the month of February because of the age-old belief that this particular month was a time of mating for all sorts of creatures in the universe. Carnivals and festivals were conducted during this period attracting both men and women from afar. Just like our weddings and festivals wherein boys and girls search for opportunities to get familiar with one another. ‘From Your Valentine’ were the last words that Saint Valentine had written in his cell to the jailor’s blind daughter after having been jailed by Emperor Claudius for getting his soldiers married on the sly in spite of the ban. These words became popular after his demise and are being used by lovers the world over.
Sometimes, days like Valentine’s Day come as a blessing as not all of us possess the gift of the gab. So many of us don’t even express our heartfelt emotions to our immediate family, leave alone friends. We don’t need a special day to show that we care. Do we?! Still, we could use this day to show our love and affection not just for our friends and lovers but also to people who form part of our families, our relatives, strangers irrespective of age, religion or sex. What do you say?

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO ALL OF YOU FRIENDS.

Now-a-days, theme birthday parties have become the rage. So, while you have one child clamoring for a Harry Potter theme, there is another one wanting a Barbie or Princess Birthday party not to leave out the pirates, the superheroes and the Star Wars clones. Just in case you find it too much of an effort to organize it all what with the designer invitation cards, attractive hats or masks, picture cups and plates, there are professionals to aid you with the entire procedure for a price of course! Today’s children are not satisfied with all that you were happy (nay elated) with in your heyday! They want elegant, fantastic and cool birthday parties. I remember way back when I was little, all that we did was to invite a few classmates of mine. Most of the other invitees were my friends on my street or those who studied in my school and lived nearby. Very few parents graced the occasion. Nothing was purchased from outside. No catering facilities existed then, so my parents did all the hard work. No fancy invitations, mummy and I just walked over to the houses to invite. I remember not having a phone for quite sometime. Even after its arrival, we always invited people over personally. That did take some time but it was worth the trouble. Then my mother got into the main part of preparing chole that she had already soaked the night before. And, the quantity was awesome considering the fact that my father and I usually went overboard in inviting people. Mummy’s chhole was usually the ‘birthday special.’ Sometimes I felt that people came home in droves on this day not for me, but just to taste my mother’s tasty dish!

If there was chhole, there had to be pooris. Unflinchingly, my mother would knead the dough, roll, and fry the pooris. Hand prepared sandwiches, Kissan Orange Squash (as it was known then) not Sprite, Cola or Pepsi and potato chips graced the plate and palate on this day. Plain paper plates were something we did purchase as plates at home were too less for the number of invitees. My father purchased the little cake. I still remember feeling oh! so happy just to see my name written on it. Of course, the cakes way then did not give you much of a choice – just having a birthday cake seemed a luxury. Little multi colored candles, no number candles then. Finally, when all was done, we sat down to blow the red, green and yellow balloons to hang precariously with the aid of ordinary thread.

Today, most of the edible stuff is procured from the bakery. Puffs, samosas, pizzas, cool drinks, pastries, chocolates fill the attractive paper plates. Children do not hesitate to ask for more now. We did not. Bad manners you see! Exotic games are played today. And, if it is a theme oriented birthday party then, a plethora of games are indulged in. Small time magicians or people dressed up like jokers entertain the little guests, handing to them gifts to take home in return for the gifts that they give the birthday child! I remember my friends just being happy to come home, see me cut the cake, eat and chat. Today, if you even delay giving the take-away gift to the little guests they ask for it, something unimaginable years ago!

The happiest part for me on my birthday was putting on my birthday dress that was usually stitched, not bought. Mummy would select for me the most beautiful material and then take me to the tailor to stitch a dress for me, maybe a frock or even a pair of trousers with a smart shirt to accompany it. Today, nobody has the time to breathe so, stitching is out of question. Rushing to a ready-made shop is most convenient as you get a variety of choices suiting your budget. It is another fact that the dress finally purchased tends to exceed the budget! But, you indulge your son or daughter anyway. After all, it is their special day.

Coming to the gifts, nobody gave anything expensive yet; just opening the gifts gave so much joy. I was fortunate to receive books most of time – an Enid Blyton, a Nancy Drew, some Amar Chitra Katha comics. Some even took the trouble of giving little steel dabbas or plates and putting my name on it. Today, who has the time for all that stuff? Children give gifts to their friends depending on their parents’ relationship with the birthday child’s parents today. Way back, it did not matter. Today, most of the children want to know what is inside each gift (I have seen children force the birthday boy/girl to open the gift packets). Way back, the gifts were kept in the bedroom to be opened only by me when all had left. What joy that solitary opening of gifts gave me then!

When I flashback into my treasure chest of birthday memories I relish every moment spent to make my day special. I appreciate my parents for unconditionally taking the initiative to make me happy in spite of all the inconveniences that it caused. Today’s generation is a demanding one. It is always on the move. Today’s Birthday Special Express moves fast with no stations to pause, ponder and reflect. It is a non-stop train of classy demands! Welcome to the modern birthday celebrations!

The New Dweller

It has happened!

In that brief union of sperm and ova

The new seed has taken root

It hides in the gurgling security

Of a strange cave, working at its formation

Taking time to form one whole piece,

Imagine! Even this tiny seed works!

Red ribbons, little pink frocks,

Twirling of tiny fingers in the fertile air,

The wails, the washing of stained napkins,

I don’t know whether I want them sometimes.

And yet, I long to hold a part of me

Separate yet united, different yet bonded.

Fun and Play

My days stretch out without an end,

Every hour an incessant wait

For an occasion to celebrate

Each minute an expectant time

To freak out on a ‘period less’ life

All I do is sit, squat and sigh

Awaiting a moment, SOME moment, to let go

To get freed from the constraints

Of a bulging womb and fears,

Tiny ones, wage wars in my mind

Even as I wrestle with changes in lifestyle,

No this, no that

Very much of this and a lot of that!

Honestly, I had thought the whole process

Was fun and play!

• Is there life after death?
• What about Hell and Heaven?
• Can dead souls communicate with the living?
• Why do good people suffer while the bad people succeed?
• Is there reincarnation? If yes, then why do most of us not remember our past?
• What is destiny? Is it different from karma?
• Can we see our loved ones after we die?

Are these some of the many questions that you tend to think about sometimes? Have you often wondered what could be the right answers for all these queries irrespective of religion, belief or sect? Then, your search stops with this book which is actually a non-fictitious story of a couple, Khorshed and Rumi Bhavnagari who have lost their young sons Vispi and Ratoo in a tragic car accident. They are terribly devastated and even begin to question their belief in God. It is then that a stranger gives them messages from their dead sons (details that only they and their sons knew). The stranger turns out to be a ‘medium’ that helps in communicating with the dead.

Nobody knows what lies beyond death, just the end of life or a new beginning itself. The Laws of The Spirit World opens up an entirely new universe to many (who are not already familiar with terms like astral plane, ESP (Extra Sensory Perception), telepathy, silver cord, etc. While the book itself might appear dramatic to some, it is best read with an open mind. Let’s face it. You will either completely believe what is written in the book or not believe in it at all! It would have been just another tale of the human spirit conquering all odds had it not been for the unraveling of thoughts of a world beyond, which is not very far, yet invisible, where rules are followed even for the dead, where unanswered questions for ages are laid bare for all to see and judge maybe.

The book is written well and clearly in the form of a journal through the process called Automatic Writing which is actually a direct communication with the spirit world with the help of a link. While it is easy to slot this book as ‘one of those spiritual self-help books out to court controversy’ kind, one cannot but stay mystified page after page as all the queries about birth, death, karma, destiny, divine justice, reincarnation are all answered one by one. Remember the movie ‘Ghost’ where Patrick Swayze is murdered and keeps moving around in his astral form because he has still not come to terms with his death and wants his girlfriend, Demi Moore to know. Whoopi Goldberg is the ‘medium’ here. And when Tony Goldwyn (Patrick’s close friend) is killed himself, he is taken away by dark eerie kind of forces. The Laws of the Spirit World reveals that what we saw in Ghost was not just a fictitious movie. It exists for real. Now, isn’t THAT eerie?!

The book states through Vispi that we choose our birth – when and where. So, the whole thing about fate and destiny falls flat here as it is stated that the more we wish to advance in the realms (read as spiritual promotion) the more trials we are willing to take before we decide to descend onto earth again. Unfortunately, most of us forget why we choose to be born and get entangled in the ‘maya’ of life.

The book talks about Spirit Guides who we know or believe as Angels who guide us on our journey from birth to death. And, why don’t we get to see or hear these Spirit Guides? That’s because our subconscious mind lies asleep drowned by loads and loads of negativity. Sleep is the time, the book says, “when your loved ones in the spirit world are talking to you and giving you guidance.”

If you are interested in wanting to know more about the mysteries of life and death, justice and karma, then this book will not disappoint you. I guarantee you that you will not be unaffected after your read.

Love is said to bind hearts not religions and identities. Unfortunately, not all friends and lovers seem to think this way. No wonder we have endless number of people bringing up conditions of conversion before they get married to one another. I have known so many people who seemed made just for each other with no hassles at all about religion or lifestyle when they were courting but suddenly when the issue of marriage came up things turned topsy turvy. Someone had to bow down. Someone had to compromise. The pity is that what had to be given up was not any material thing, not even lifestyle; it was the most important thing that one held dear in life – faith.

Faith is what holds you all along, from birth to childhood to adulthood. Suddenly, to give it up is not easy. It is like tearing a part of your self. But then, you have a terrible choice to make. Love of your life or the faith that has been holding you strong all these years. When in love, it is like walking on a tight rope. You love the person. You love your faith too and don’t want to give up either. When you hesitate, the question is hurled at you like a bomb.

“Do you love me or your faith?”

“Are you hesitating because you don’t love me enough?”

The problem here is that the person being asked to give up his/her faith to unite in holy matrimony never asks back, “So, if you want to marry me only if I convert to your faith, does that mean that You love your faith more than me?”

You are so much in love and so shocked to encounter such a situation of conversion that you just don’t know how to react. Most of the time, the person being asked to convert does it, against his/her will. He/she has to start life from scratch. Worship a form of god he/she may have never believed in, maybe even despised. It is the most brutal and cruel form of bondage. Love somewhere here dies a sad death. To the outside world, you are united as one family but inside a blooming plant has suddenly withered all because someone black-mailed or even brain washed you into leading your life with him/her by giving up your faith.

Is conversion to another faith a symbol of real love?

Is conversion a sacrifice worth giving?

Is conversion going to give you the real happiness that you had been pursuing all along?

There are so many celebrity couples who manage to retain their identities even though they marry people following different religions. Sharukh Khan- Gauri, Naseerudin Shah- Ratna Pathak,  Hritik Roshan- Sussanne, Sunil Dutt- Nargis, VJ Mini Mathur- Kabhir Khan, Sachin Pilot-Sara Abdullah and so on. But, these people have a public image already set. Their celebrity status gives them the freedom to lead the lives they want to with nobody to point fingers at them. Of course, there are personalities like Sharmila Tagore too who in spite of belonging to the great Tagore family along with a popular sexy tag of an actress converted to Islam when she got married to cricketer Pataudi.

There is a hypocritical attitude here too. When a woman converts to marry the love of her life it is taken to be ‘aam-baath,’ something that she just has to do if she really wants to marry the man she wants. But, when the same thing happens with a man, this is what society has to say.

“He must have loved her so much to even give up his religion for her” someone responds.

“Did he really have to do it?” somebody else says.

“Not man enough to get her converted” someone else quips.

“Do women really do this now-a-days?” another statement.

“Why did she have to descend to such a level?” another comment.

What many people leave out asking is, “Is conversion really necessary” be it for a man or a woman?

Some people convert to avoid the torture of family and society. Some convert to purchase peace for themselves. For them religion is only a means to the end. It is not as if people of two faiths cannot live in harmony with each other while pursuing their respective religions. I have a family friend, a Christian who is married to a Hindu woman. When you enter their house the first thing that you notice is a small statue of Mother Mary and Infant Jesus standing beside an idol of Krishna. A candle and a lamp are lit every evening. Their two children pray to both. There is no conflict and yes, the family is happy. Nobody has converted. Both of them go to the church and the temple. Because of certain laws existing in society, children of inter-religious marriages tend to follow their father’s religion if their mother has not changed hers. But, they are free to change their religion when they grow up into adults. The point is that their mother or father was not forced to convert.

The ordinary man/woman does have a choice. Love is not conversion. Love is accepting the person you had always loved for what he/she was and that includes his/her faith. Love is not emotional blackmail. Love is an unconditional feeling of affection for another in spite and despite everything. Conversion only stinks of a lack of love, trust and respect for another.

If division could bring unity

Then, ‘Hail Separatism!’

If breaking up a region could solve problems

Then, ‘Chalo Aur Break Karein!’

Today, it is Telangana.

Tomorrow, it will be something else.

Does division promise development?

Does a divided state guarantee improvement?

Demand for justice is one thing.

Tearing a place apart for selfish satiation is another.

A pity that a state has to be shredded for political gain.

Bringing its inhabitants strife and pain.

How many more states

Will India divide into

Before it is united as one?

How many more regions

Will people diversify into

Before they learn to live as one?

People favouring old age homes justify their decisions with several points. They say that the presence of old parents at home is too much trouble. There is no room for privacy. They have to constantly tend to them when they are sick. Bringing friends home becomes embarrassing. Going on a holiday becomes an impossible reality. Oof! So many problems just to have elderly parents around!

But all justifications fall flat when we realize that the old parents we are talking about as ‘problems’ are the very people who took care of us whenever we fell sick. These people sacrificed outings, friends and vacations only to make us feel happy, wanted and part of the family. They did not ponder much about lack of privacy whenever we barged into their romantic rendezvous. They did it all for Us! Is this how we pay back? By dumping them in old age homes?

Okay, times have changed. Now, both parents might have to work to run the home. Maybe, we don’t want to miss out on our promotions. After all, the money from that promotion will also be used to give parents a ‘better old age home!!’ And now-a-days, old age homes are all spruced up like hotels with all facilities including medicine and entertainment readily available. Fine, but pray tell me, if we have the time to party, if we have the time to watch television can we not find a little time for our parents at home? Is it too much to ask for? Old age homes may provide all material requirements but surely, we are wise enough( or are we?!) to understand that an old age home cannot fill in the vacuum of love and affection that only a family can provide. Even if we call them every other day, can the phone call fulfill the anticipations and expectation that a parent has to meet his/her son or/and daughter?

There are some senior citizens who have resigned to their lonely fate with their children busy working or settled elsewhere. Some even save up for such homes so they don’t have to be dependent on their children. An indifferent institution seems a better option than bitter nostalgia and loneliness at home. But, can an old age home replace the warmth of a real home filled with the presence of one’s kith and kin? Can the professionalism of a senior citizen centre take the place of a child?

On the other side, there is no denying the fact that some cynical elderly parents have spoiled the lives of their adult children. Many marriages have been destroyed due to the constant interference of these people. Still, dumping them in an old age home is not and cannot be a permanent solution. Is slogging away at work or even enjoying life to the hilt really worth it at the cost of losing out on one’s parents? We are what we are today because of them. Of course, not all possess a generous heart, great patience or even remember their duties when it comes to taking care of old parents. But we need to remember that life runs full circle. What we give comes back to us. And, history could repeat itself!

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest among us all?

“Not you”, a voice boomed from above,

“It is your neighbour living next door.”

I was aghast, for wasn’t she an ugly bore?

Before I gave back at the mirror for betraying me so

I decked up, I knew where I had to go.

Ego edging me on,

I rushed in where fools fear to tread

It was going to be her or my head.

There she sat, leaning against the wall

her silhouette scary, almost making me fall.

Armed with all the available armoury in my closet

I tiptoed into her little dwelling

Dreaming cruelly of making her bruises a swelling.

She saw me enter, flashed a smile

that made me want to run away a mile,

But I lingered a little longer.

I had to achieve my goal.

Witch or vamp, I had to play my role.

I tried to offend but failed,

I was behind her and trailed

As she bent over and picked up all that I had dropped.

To make her feel low.

I pretended to make to the door.

‘No sit down, talk to me.’

‘It’s so nice to just be.’

What was she talking?

I wasn’t here to make her feel happy.

Why weren’t my responses appearing snappy?

Her heart was of gold

Here my evil thoughts were already sold

To the conception that I was fair and blue

So, I was superior due to my skin

While she looked more like a stinking dustbin!

She offered me biscuits and tea

Her kindness was all there to see.

She smiled even though I smirked.

Before her good natured behaviour

I looked the sinner and she the saviour!

Now, I know the mirror did not lie.

I was not the fairest, I did sigh.

Superficial beauty was what I had chased all along.

I had looked for the colour of the skin.

While she was shining from within.

I got up to go

Too ashamed to put up a mean show

My proud assertive ego lay badly bruised

As I realized that being fair was not all that mattered.

All these years I was only getting stupidly flattered!

Thank you mirror for letting me know

‘As you reap so shall you sow.’

Today, I am happy and cool.

For I know that beauty is the soul shining

Not an egoistic attitude whining!

Ever imagined a woman porter carrying your luggage at the railway station? ‘Impossible!’ you say. That’s a natural attitude because we never get to see woman porters but such porters we do have. Yes! In India! They are at Bhavnagar in Gujarat carrying on this tradition or profession for the past 69 years! No little thing this!  For a profession dominated exclusively by men, this comes as a surprise and a courageous surprise at that. Having been branded as the weaker sex, women seem to be breaking many barriers now-a-days and when it comes from uneducated, economically backward women, it is really welcome. Many of our very own educated sophisticated urban bred women are not willing to walk that extra mile!

There is news now that the city of Allahabad will be recruiting 19 women for the posts of porters, taking the inspiration from the Gujarat women porters breaking the shackles of sex and gender. But not many know how the concept of women porters came out. Interested? Well, according to reports, Maharaja Bhavsingh of Bhavnagar had got a new railway station  constructed around the year 1940 and valiantly declared that all the porters at this new station would be women. Kudos to the Maharaja! It is from then on that women have been applying for this post and working as porters. They say that this generous declaration by the Maharaja has been keeping their fires burning at home! In fact, currently there are 22 women out of the total 26 porters in Bhavnagar railway station. Most of the women porters are above 50 years old and are grateful to this job that has been carried over generations. Mothers give the badge to their daughters or daughters-in-law and so on something like an inheritance.

But of course, there are murmurs in the air inspite of the 69 year long tradition. The present procedure of the appointment of women railway porters is raising a few eyebrows and the Union Ministry of State for Women and Child Development is stated to have demanded ‘details’ about this appointment. Though the idea of women carrying heavy loads of luggage is shocking to most people, it is a fact that many women do similar kind of work selling vegetables and fruits and, even carry heavy loads on their heads in villages. People are not very happy that another male dominated field has been barged into by women; they are also upset by the procedure test involved in recruiting the currently 19 short listed women for the posts. This test involves a 200 m run with a 25 kg sack on one’s head with a qualifying time of four minutes (it is three minutes for the men). The other reason that people cite for not allowing women to work as railway porters is the danger of pregnancy while carrying heavy loads. (Of course, the alternative for this would be using trolleys, which has been suggested by some). Apart from that is the usual reason of exploitation. But which profession is free of exploitation and misuse today?

The reality today is that another male dominated profession has been busted by women. It makes no difference what kind of job it may be. The woman can do it all. Almost! What do you say?

Once, as I was travelling by road, still a gawky teenager, I saw a man lying on the pavement. Most of us tend to have preconceived and prejudiced notions about several things, so I assumed that the person was dead drunk. As I muttered under my breath, I observed that the man was not exactly drunk. There was froth coming out of his mouth and his whole body was jerking in spasms. I was petrified. I had never seen anything like this before. My first reaction was ‘Oh! My God. What’s this?’ My teenage mind could not understand such a state. Then, I felt sympathy. From somewhere deep inside, I realized that what the person was going through had not been in his control. I still did not fully understand what was happening yet, I prayed for the man and passed him by. I did not stop to help because I was travelling with my parents. I did not stop because I did not know what to do!

 Years later, I understood that such a state was called a seizure or ‘fits’ as the common man knows it. In medical terms, it is called epilepsy, a condition brought about by a disturbance in the rhythm of the brain whereby a person could lose consciousness briefly, go blank, fall down or even have the spasmatic movements that I saw in that man years ago. Unfortunately, not many people know that there are several types of seizures triggered by several activities. Even watching television for long can cause seizures for some. Apart from that, injuries during birth or after an accident can also cause epilepsy. I was not aware of this earlier. Not many know that one in 150 people suffer from epilepsy in the whole world. Just imagine that! The sad part is that many people are unaware that it can be treated successfully with medication.

To date, people are ignorant of the fact that epilepsy is only a neurological disorder, not a disability, not even a brief spell of ‘madness’ as many people make it out to be. Did you know? Many men have got their marriages dissolved on grounds that their wives were epileptic and so, were insane! It was only in the year 1999 that the Hindu Marriage Act was amended to enable a person with epilepsy to have a legally valid marriage.

 Most of us equate epilepsy/fits/seizures with ideas that have been fed to us at home, on television or in the movies. People with epilepsy have been ridiculed and made to smell an onion or a shoe because the ‘aam aadmi’ knows nothing better. The stigma attached to this disorder is deplorable and when a woman goes through this, it becomes downright disgusting. I should know because I saw a woman having a seizure right before my eyes!

 While coming back home from work some time many months back, I saw a young woman coming out of a restaurant. Even as I scanned her dress and began to judge how good she was looking, I saw her falter in her steps, her until then confident gaze grow blank and she held on to the arm of her male friend/husband/brother/whoever. She fell on the road. Immediately, as if a siren had started, people crowded up to see the woman lying on the road, her body jerking. Some jeered, some commented. Fortunately for the woman, her male aide seemed to be aware of her condition. Even as the crowd gathered, he shooed them away, let the woman breathe properly and freely and, just let her be in that state for a while. The woman recovered soon and was back on her feet albeit with some help. This time, I did not shudder with disgust when I saw it all happen. This time I did not pass her by. I was in a hurry but waited. I helped the man get the young woman lie down on the ground. I helped put her dress in order. And then, when she recovered I left.

 Maybe, I would not even recognize the woman if I saw her again. Of course, she would not even remember me. I am not looking for gratitude mind you! I have the woman to thank.  At last, my soul is free from a guilt I had been tagging along from my teenage years when I had seen a helpless man at the mercy of nature and society. And I had done nothing then!

Did you have an eventful day on the 13^th of November? Was the day a little different from all other days? Didn’t notice any change? Just flashback into the day once again from the time you stepped out of bed to the time you stepped back into bed at night. Now, you might be wondering why I am asking you all this. Well! November 13 falls exactly on Friday the 13^th and the people believing in this Friday the 13^th phenomenon are bound to find their day filled with events they rather not want.

Some people find this day unlucky, a belief or a superstition if you may call it from ages ago. Some don’t even know how it all started but still believe in it anyway. It is hard not to be influenced by this so-called unlucky day even if it is a little. A lot of people carry this fetish for Friday the 13^th. Anything mysterious would immediately get the tag of “It was Friday the 13^th, that’s why it happened. You should have been careful.” And, the ghost stories that we already feed ourselves with from childhood are no energy boosters.

Since Friday the 13th does not frequent often, the very rarity of the date makes people associate this day with ill luck and fear. Very few want to even know how it all began, where it all commenced. People just presumed that because such a fateful day existed, there must be some reason (however stupid!!) behind it.  So, people refrained from trying out anything new on this date. Who knew what misfortune would befall if such foolish things were attempted? Better to be safe than sorry eh! Many religiously and loyally believe in such a disastrous, unlucky and obviously unforgettable day! Subjective and blind belief refuses to permit people to think that if one has decided on feeling horrid and scared, of thinking that the whole world was plotting against them, that everything on this day would go wrong, then, nature would see to it that things would go wrong! After all, the human mind is a powerful weapon even against oneself. It has the power to transform a happy person into a sad one and a courageous person into a coward! But who thinks about such great logic on this kind of a day?

Friday the 13^th is really a universal phenomenon. You know that the great Winston Churchill refused to travel anywhere on Friday the 13th and even a country like Italy refused to print the number 13 on their lottery tickets! Many people avoid going on trips on such a day and do not even sit for dinner in a room that has 13 people! In fact, many hotels did not even have a room numbered 13 once upon a time. I wonder whether this still exists. But did you also know that people like Alfred Hitchcock, Margaret Thatcher and several other successful persons were born on this unlucky day (it is a fact!) and yet did very well in life!

Then, why all this stupid belief in Friday the 13? Who started it all?  Events like The Last Supper where 13 people ate with Jesus, the day (Friday) when Jesus was crucified, destruction of the Temple of Solomon on a Friday; all these began to fuel the fire of fiery Friday the 13th  among people. If things do go wrong on this day then for a logical person it is plain co-incidence, nothing else. But, for a dedicated Friday the 13 phobic, it just cannot be anything else! It is known as ‘paraskavedekatriaphobia’ or fear of Friday the 13^th. This year we had three Friday the 13s: February 13th, March 13th and November 13th. So, if you have even a speck of doubt about the day, be relieved, the last of the fateful days are over now with November the 13.

………………….

I am yet to talk to you my child

I am yet to ask you how you feel

Inside the mortal shell of impermanence

Your papa says he has already felt your rhythms,

The heart beats of the soul that is YOU,

In his meditation

What does it mean, child?

Are my maternal instincts not pure and strong

In the true sense of the word?

Can I not sense you, your soul, as it lies

Waiting to emerge into a world as strange

And draining like the fleshy interiors of

Your mother’s womb?

I feel at loss to fathom your state,

Your aspirations of a previous birth

Who you were then, why you came to me now,

I am truly lost my dear, in the mire of living

A life I am yet to discover,

Are you confused and miserable too, trying

To wonder the goal of your existence?

that’s some solace,

At least we seem to identify with something!

(When you are pregnant for the first time, a plethora of thoughts plague your mind and you wonder about your state and that of your yet to be born child. Sometimes, even negative thoughts can enter your mind stealthily as this is an experience that you are going through for the very first time. Like the unsteady steps of a child you wonder what this is all about. Emotions of insecurity, joy, frustration, happiness-everything positive and negative come rushing towards you. Of course, with God’s grace, everything ends well and very soon you forget all that you felt just by looking at a part of you!)

Crouched before you

I perceive you, your form-

Small yet enchanting

You portray society with flair-

The good, the bad and the ugly

And I watch enthralled!

You keep me captive.

The days roll by

Not happy with this

You burgle my nights

Why?

I think I know why and so,

Let go.

I reflect and understand why and so,

Give in.

The flicker of images

Is my obsession.

The small screen

My addiction.

She sat perched

On an uneasy branch,

A withered tree

Housing crowded homes

With fledglings chirping for food.

Ma Bird looked around her

In helpless woe,

Not a grain to peck at,

Not even a teeny weenie worm!

How could she?

The worms had formed a union

Learning from the humans!

It no longer conjures up visions of a long relaxing

journey

instead,

images of charred remains, mangled flesh and burning cries

flash on the screen of my thoughts

just as they appeared before several others

as they watched  a funeral in a flaming bus

caused by a deadly  potion – a cruel concoction

of politics and violence,

of morals let loose to feast on the carcass of society.

Hands, wet with the petrol of corruption,

hearts, hollow, doused in the spirit of evil fervour,

eyes, wicked in their brutality as they watch life set

ABLAZE,

an evergrowing , infectious disease infested

upon the soul of humanity.

Today, as I remember it all,

my eyes turn moist with the smoke which engulfed the bus

of existence on that fateful day,

my tears, useless,

incapable of destroying the sickening stench

of metal and flesh,

of inhumanity and creation.

 She stilettoed on the ramp

into the hearts of the captive audience

as they watched her body sway to the music,

every move of hers critically observed

as she let the designer’s garment fit, flow and flood

the stage walking smiling to none and all.

Walking the winding ways of the ramp

everyday, I strut, I sway, I swirl

to the music of life -

sometimes soft, sometimes loud,

I know I am watched

by eyes that only know to painfully stare,

that know no care,

I walk high amidst clouds of smoke

that fill my bottomless pit of arrogance,

my stilettos tapping on the hollow stage of life,

every sound of my shoes only soar me high

into the realms of a illusionary world

I despise yet prize.

I hear the sound of emptiness emanate

from the plethora of a hypocritical existence

yet I carry on, catering to the whims of the world

my self lost in the bareness of unholy desire,

my soul bruised by lifeless passions set afire.

They lie lifeless, 

the beautiful fanlike feathers

no longer open up to display their splendour,

the seed of hope that man had planted -

a poison trip for the country’s  national symbol,

a species representing the nation’s pride

lies abandoned like a decomposing corpse,

oh! Krishna, just see what they have done

to the fertile green eyed feather that adorned your crown?

it lies desecrated in the mire of human callousness, greed and survival,

the wondrous aura of the past where forests echoed

with the call of the peacock now lies dormant,

the deadly  silence mourns an invaluable loss of  nature,

a  deprivation only the wild understands

a  grief only the universe bears.

Packed in illusionary bundles of hope

shipped abroad

to serve a foreign nation

with dreams of flowing wealth to feed their families

floating in poverty behind,

all a quick means to clear debts, to conduct weddings

to live a life free from misery back home

but burning sand knows only to scorch,

dissolving faith and hope into mirages,

bunkers of misery, broken bones and belief

they lie forlorn, meekly shedding drops of sweat and blood

to survive in an alien land for a dream destroyed

thoughts of loved ones left behind the only solace,

lying frozen in fractured body and frustrating mind

waiting eternally for a world they might never get to

savour again, all for a dream that turned into a mirage.

He curses her belly

for possessing a female mind

while he sits, ignorant

that it is his imphy wimphy sperm

that is playing the tricks,

his to blame and hers to bear

as she tolerates his abuses for a ‘crime’

she did not commit.

Lost in his lonely castle of arrogant illusion

he pines for a heir, a male child, he cannot

get on desire.

Drowning in ravaging floods of teary conflict

she is desperate to please him,

but her belly refuses to run on remote

so they unite and separate,

impregnate and curse their fate

over and over again

until the remote reaps another harvest.

Doesn’t it feel good when a person walks into the room bringing with him or her, a fragrance that lingers on even after the person is gone? Remember the times when you were small and longed to spray a bit of that perfume that your parents used on themselves whenever they went out? At times, when they were not looking, maybe, you even used it and felt so good. Not just that, many of us tend to remember some of our old acquaintances with a particular smell, good or bad. Right? It could be the strong smell of cologne or maybe, the unbearable slimy smell of sweat. Either way, smell and fragrance tends to play a great role in our lives, be it the smell of people or food.

But, this article is not about smell and food. It is about the art of selecting the right kind of perfume and cologne.  Do you know which cologne is right for you? Or are you like millions of people who buy the first perfume that you like and get done with the matter? We don’t tend to always give importance the kind of perfume we use – many of us in fact, buy the cheapest cologne to convince ourselves that we are not indulging in any luxury and are also using perfume to feel good! Considering the fact, that the cologne you use is going to stay the entire day, isn’t it right that you choose the right one for you?

Many of us tend to feel that there is very little difference between one perfume and another. You could be true to some extent as all perfumes and colognes smell good when inside the bottle but the moment it is sprayed or dabbed the fragrance changes. This is because every person smells differently and when the cologne comes into contact with skin or sweat it changes accordingly. Type of skin (dry, normal or oily), diet, genetics and even habits like drinking or smoking can change the effect of the cologne on your body. Oily skin needs lighter perfumes while dry skinned people need stronger perfumes.

Although your budget does play a great role in your choice of perfume, you need to be careful that you don’t land up smelling like some sweaty socks dabbed with a chocolate flavor! The error that most of us make while purchasing perfumes is spraying different perfumes on the same area. No wonder, all smell more or less the same. The best way would be to spray the perfume or cologne on pieces of paper and then smell each one. Then, take the one you like the best.

The most important point of using a perfume is to not just spray it like they do in the Axe advertisement. If you wish to smell good for a longer period of time, dab the perfume on the ‘pulse points’ like the wrists, throat and sides of the neck. This way, you will smell good just as you wanted and leave behind a lasting impression! So, the next time you go about buying some perfume, take care to use the right method to choose the perfume of a lifetime.