An apology letter to the nice guy.

Dear Nice Guy,

            Hi! Before you begin, if you are a nice guy, you should read the entire thing. If you’re a girl who has met a nice guy before, you should read this too (Maybe you’ve made the same mistakes I did.) And if you’re not a nice guy, you should DEFINITELY read this. This apology extends to every guy out there who has been snubbed by a girl for absolutely no fault of theirs. If you said a hello, offered a seat in transit, tried to help out or be pleasant in any way, and the girl acted like you did something abominable, I’m sorry you had to go through that; that your chivalry was misunderstood. I am guilty too, of being one of those girls with high airs, who acted aloof when a guy was genuinely being a good person.  I am sorry. There are a few of you left, and I acted like a brat and drove you away. The thing is, a lot of things have led me to acting the way I did. I am not saying I can make excuses; I’m just trying to tell you why I did what I did, so maybe you can pardon me then.

            When I was five, I held on to a stranger’s hand when I got lost on the railway station, he told me he’ll take me to my mother. It’s a good thing I realised what he was trying to do, before it was too late. When I was twelve, I was going to my tuition which was three buildings away. On the way, I met men who catcalled and said nasty words to me. I fastened my pace and got away from there. I started to feel unsafe even three buildings away from home. Then I reached teenage. I can’t talk about every time I felt unsafe or was eve teased because that would be a huge list and this would just become a sob story. But let’s just say, I started feeling unsafe inside my very home too. The doodh-waala who delivered milk to our house every morning, was fired by my mother because of certain reasons I don’t want to dwell into. I kept turning older and the number of such incidents kept increasing, then one day I found my voice and started retaliating and stopped a few of them from happening. But I’ll admit it, I ignored quite a few of them, because ignoring seemed like a better option back then. Basically what I’m trying to say is, at every walk of my life, men made me lose all hope in them. I started growing cynical, and started turning a blind eye towards the goodness left in the world. I told myself, “All men are the same, I can never trust them.” So I started generalising every ‘nice guy’ I met and judged him even though he had done nothing to receive such harsh judgements from me. Then a few years ago, I decided to gauge my perspectives and put myself in the shoes of a ‘nice guy’, and I realised it is difficult for him too. In  a world where every day the newspapers talk about  a minimum of five abuse cases, this nice guy is constantly trying to prove his worth. He’s going out of his way to tell us that not all men are bad. There are a few gems out there who respect women and will even protect them if they can’t do it themselves. Several times I’ve acted like I’m royalty in front of these guys and I’ve misinterpreted every gesture to be one with ulterior motives. And I am ashamed of every time I did that. I cannot overlook the beauty of a person just because in the past I have been walked over. You ‘nice guys’ are the reason I still believe the world is a good place, that our society has a lot to offer, no matter how messed up it is. So if you are reading this, and if any girl has acted this particular way with you, maybe it is because the world repeatedly told them that men are vicious. I am sure she did not do that out of contempt (Some girls are actually rude though, because high horse and all that, you know, but most are not.) I hope you can forgive us. And more than that, I hope you can find it in you to let it go and never stop being a nice guy. The world needs more of you; we girls need more of you. Thank you for being who you are, give us another chance and we will turn around. One day the society will only have nice guys and we can all feel so much safer. I’m still pinning my hopes on humanity. Not all nice guys finish last.

Love,

That rude girl who is not really rude and is sorry about acting like that.

An ode to my city.

Out there in the busy streets of Colaba causeway, amidst the frenzy of shoppers and tourists, sits Abdul Rafeeq in his kiosk. Displaying a variety of antiques ranging from gramaphones to a compass with a Robert Frost poem etched on it, he seems just like the others. Only, he is not. He beckons me and asks if he can tell me a story, I gladly oblige. He tells me about the places he has travelled, the poems he has written, and the friendships he has built and lost. His job is exchanging stories, he says. And I tell him, that's the best job in the world! He then bids me good bye with a blessing, and I leave with a smile on my face because of a chance meeting with an amazing stranger. He is MUMBAI.

Clueless but resolute, I begin to rush with countless other commuters at the railway station, hoping to not miss my train. I stop midway confused, and to myself I mumble in Hindi, "Arey ye kaunsa train hai?" One lady stops, enquires about my destination, and then guides me to the right platform. I thank her for the help and proceed to become a part of the peak hour circus that unfolds at every platform. She is MUMBAI.

I wade through knee-deep waters wearing slippery shoes, and hope to reach home without any mishaps. The street which was bone-dry hours ago is now drenched and flooded. However, it somehow radiates a peculiar warmth when I see people going out of their way making sure everyone gets home safely. The nearby residents in raincoats,  providing food and hospitality, some directing pedestrians through meandering paths, some offering biscuits to people stuck in traffic since hours. A man guides me towards a rope, and with it's support, I manage to make it home unharmed. Each person out there on the street helping, is MUMBAI.

I go to my favourite book-stall and the man there greets me and starts suggesting books that I'd like to read. He doesn't know my name, but he almost nails my 'to-read list'. When I apologetically tell him I'm too broke to buy books, and I came only to look at his collection, he smiles at me warmly and welcomes me anyway into his crowded book store. He passes no judgement as I wander and sniff the yellowed, frayed pages. When I leave, he tells me I can visit any time, even if I don't want to buy any books. He is MUMBAI.

    You will not find Mumbai in the heritage buildings of CST where the British left intricate carvings, or in the slums of Dharavi. Neither in the sky scrapers of BKC, nor in the tiny cramped flats of Mahim. You will only find Mumbai in the hearts of its people. The undying spirit, the relentless determination to brush off the previous day's terror, and continue the next day with a new beginning. The audacity to look at every terror attack, every natural calamity in the eye, and pick up the broken pieces and mend them with each other's help. That's what defines Mumbai for me. It is less of a city, and more of an emotion.

    We complain about the climate, the crowd, the traffic, the constant government glitches, but the fact is, once you live in Mumbai, you become a part of it no matter how flawed it is. The city that never sleeps, permits people to dream. And with open arms it welcomes anyone who wants to be a part of it, no matter how much it is running out of space. There are a thousand things I can mention which Mumbai needs to change. This is not me being pompous and declaring Mumbai the best city, this is me accepting those flaws and admitting that we could do so much better, but yet, embracing this imperfect city that I call my home. Where the rich businessman stands under the same Tapri to smoke a cigarette with a labourer. Where someone who owns a Mercedes has no qualms about travelling in a local train. Where people lose hope everyday, but a chat with a train-friend, over a journey from Thane to Parel, gets them back on track. This is a city which nurtures you and also wrecks you enough to survive anywhere else in the world, which passes no judgement and lets you build your life no matter how skewed it is. This is a city which shatters dreams, but also makes them come true.

This is my city. We call ourselves Mumbaikars. We can leave you happy and content with whatever little we have, just like our Vada Pav. 😉

Painting by- Mr. Mukhtar Kazi

A hearty conundrum.

Immediately after graduating, when I took a voluntary jump into the shit-hole of entrance exams, my mind and heart were seen to be placed in juxtaposition. My heart had one key word: LIVE. My mind had another: TIME. These two words have only one thing in common. They are four-lettered. As a pragmatic human running a race called 'The faster you run, the closer your destination', I joined the herd of medical students who study until they reach a marriageable age and then don responsibilities too heavy for the shoulders which are bending with pressure of heavy books already.

  Right now, I'm split against the war raging between my mind and heart. They both have valid points. My heart tells me to take a break and find time for myself and breathe, travel, read more books, write, take out that guitar from its stand and strum a few strings. My heart basically wants me to defy social parameters and live life on my own terms. Such a darling this heart is! However, I have a particularly hasslesome organ called the Brain, who is a bossy, dominant, pain-in-the-neck dictator and tells me what is advisable and what is not; and like every dictator, there's a threat which the Brain employs to make me dance to his tunes-Time. And according to this threat, I'm supposed to ignore my heart’s voice and venture into the world of MCQ books and exam forms, and reduce my life into something similar- A test with limited options, which I'm supposed to finish within a stipulated period.

 Time is merely a resultant effect of the positioning of earth in the orbit, which creates an illusion of the sun rising and setting. Now you take something as simple as that, and you give it to a human, and he/she will be sure to blow it out of proportion and make it a claustrophobic constraint, holding you at gun point, and commanding you to run faster, or else threatening to leave you behind in this race. I think life would be easier if we were like fishes in the sea, they have no concept of time. They just swim and go with the flow (pun very much intended).

    We all have charted out a plan for our life, where a certain age is imparted a certain task, and all these deadlines are to be matched in order to lead a wholesome, satisfied life, where your future comprises of having a stable job, a three bedroom flat with balconies, and enough bank balance to spend on luxurious whims and fancies. Why?! You have one life, you have stayed on this planet for only a little more than two decades. The first decade you barely have any memory of, the second decade you spent crafted around societal parameters. So this beginning of the third decade is where your life begins, where you take the remote and navigate your life into the path YOU want to walk on. If you let time decide everything, you will only be running until the arthritis kicks in and you end up in some old age home with buckling knees and fake teeth.

Listen to that heart sometimes. Live for yourself. I know the future is nebulous, but not everything has to be planned and executed. While you are busy planning, life will catch you off guard. Let your impulse decide at times, but don't be stupid. It is not a bollywood movie, you will have to work hard to build a secure future at the same time. You want to crack that entrance exam? You need that promotion? Well you are going to earn it, you just have to show them you deserve it. But don't skip dinner with your family, it is the only time you really get to spend with them. Don't bail out on that road trip you planned with your friends two months ago. Don't forsake that screenwriting workshop you enrolled yourself for. Your passion needs to soar.

     Let your mind do the ruling, but take your heart along with you. The latter knows better. Money and stability comes complimentary with hard work, and work hard you will! However you shall enjoy this process only if you let your heart experience that adrenaline rush once in a while. Keeping your talents and desires locked away is like having a treasure trove and never using it. Don't clip your own wings. No matter how fast you run, your ultimate destination is that niche dug inside earth. Might as well live a little before that happens, won't you?

WILLOW.

An ode to the puppy who came into my life unexpectedly and left my life way too soon. I miss you, Willow. I'm sorry I couldn't do much to relieve you from your pain, but I loved you. And if you could feel that love as you lay there fighting, I can let you go in peace. I hope you have fun in Dog heaven, I've heard it's full of treats and toys. Sleep tight, little boy ❤
.
.
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Body envisaging the constellation of bones within,
Breaths consuming a little life away,
Eyes wanting to open, but too scared to see the reaper looming greedily.
This is how you came into my life.

Clueless, scared, and maternal, I welcomed you with open arms.
For hours we fought together, you were valiant and strong inspite of the frail body you possessed.
I saw the reaper retreating and almost becoming indiscernible.
I held your tiny paw, dreaming of the life we are going to paint together.

That's when you loosened your grip on hope. You moaned in pain as I scarpered around trying to find any means of relieving you from the malicious grip of morbidity.
You tried and you tried, but all in vain.
And it dawned upon me that I have to let go, I knew the time had come.

We said a silent goodbye as you opened your tiny eyes just enough for me to look into them and tell you I love you.
And then you put back your head and surrendered to destiny.
Holding your limp body, with emotions flowing out of my eyes, I walked towards your final resting place.

Life was unfair to you, but life was generous to me, for I had met you.
You taught me love.
You taught me compassion.
You taught me how to show courage in the face of adversity.
You also taught me it is okay to let go.
It was heartbreaking to watch you leave, but it was serendipity that you came into my life, even if it was for a few hours.
I wrapped up all my love in those hours and I sent you away to sleep a sound sleep.
I will meet you at the other end, and we will continue our story which was wrenched away by the claws of death.
Until then, Zendagi Migzara.

   

Men≠Women

When alone late at night, I regularly check behind my shoulder, just to be sure I'm not being followed.
The frequent tugs my skirt gets, just to make sure I'm not exposing more than they can handle.
Men and women are equal.

Everytime I utter the word 'period', my voice unknowingly lowers in decibels.
If ever someone hears me, the cringe conveys I'm dirty, for lack of a better term.
Men and women are equal.

The sanitary napkins in the medical store are kept in full display, but when I carry one back home, they are obscured.
Almost like a birthday gift wrapped in brown paper that I get every month.
Men and women are equal.

My brother leaves no note and comes back home only when the cock crows, nobody bats an eye.
My phone gets incessant calls from a concerned mother and an anxious father  when it's quarter to ten, and I'm yet to reach home.
Men and women are equal.

When I decide to perform a particularly difficult surgery, they tell me it needs too much strength.
Transfer the case to a male doctor, it will be easier for him.
Men and women are equal.

Shrouded women and ostentatious men are a thing of the past.
Feminism is an urban drama, only to attract unnecessary attention under the pretext of big burly women, carrying placards, demanding rights.
Men and women are equal!
Men and women are equal!
Maybe saying it often will make us believe it, will make it come true.
Because my rational mind agrees to disagree.
Patriarchy has left the society, but society still clings to it like a child to his pacifier.
Like several other things we deny the existence of, inequality exists too!
So we can either keep clouding our ears with lies, or we can accept it and persevere to change it.
Men and women ARE equal, it is about time the society learns to act like it.

Arnold and me.

"Will you be mine?", he asked.
He had an unkempt beard, matted hair, baggy clothes which were either too big for him or he had gradually grown too timid for them. He did not look like any of the other humans I saw everyday. I could see a sparkle in his eye whenever he spoke to me, and love emanating from him each time he nuzzled me.
"Woof!", I promptly replied.
That day forwards I was always seen with him, hopping around, tongue hanging, tail wagging.
Arnold and I became the best of friends. He called me a lot of names, 'Patricia, Patty, Snuffles, Spotty, Lil girl'...but 'Patricia' kind of stuck on. I thought Arnold was the most interesting human on earth, one of the million reasons is that he kept moving to different places, unlike the other humans. One day he slept on the park bench, the next day it was a niche in the wall of an abandoned building. We even hunted for food together. I sometimes brought him things I found in the trash can, but he used to wrinkle his nose and cringe at it, so I figured he didn't particularly like delicious things. Sometimes, kind humans would offer him food, which he would share with me. What a swell life! We had everything we wanted. However, there were days when Arnold would get sad. He would curl up on the park bench and cry silent tears, I never understood why. I would lick away the tears and he would hold me close. He seemed to feel better when he held me close, so I let him hold me like that until he fell asleep. I felt bad for humans sometimes, they seemed to have a lot of troubles. As for me, as long as I had Arnold with me, nothing would hurt me.
One day, Arnold and I were walking towards the area where all my other dog friends lived. I never understood why they always growled at me when I was with Arnold though. They lived in big houses with big gates which stopped them from going out. They always had food and water, they never had to hunt for it. So I figured they didn't like me because they envied me. I had an amazing life, they didn't. I gave a sudden WOOF at that thought and Arnold's hand involuntarily reached down to nuzzle me behind my ear. It was my favourite spot. This was basically how I spent my days with Arnold. Wandering, hunting, sleeping, just having a gala time so to say. It was all going well until one day things took a wrong turn.
It was a sunny afternoon, I was sitting with Arnold under a tree which was really wide and I couldn't see the sun when I sat under it. I dug myself a nice hole and was fully prepared to catch a wink. Arnold had been drinking that coloured liquid from a bottle, which smelled weird and always made him act different. Some instinct told me to stay awake and watch out for Arnold. So I decided against my nap and obediently sat with him. Gradually, my eyes started drooping and I don't know when I fell asleep. I was dreaming of chasing butterflies and playing in puddles when I heard that screech which woke me up from my slumber. I heard Arnold scream and I bolted towards the street where he lay under a car with his legs twisted in a painful position. I started barking alarmingly, I was so scared looking at that pain in Arnold's eyes. I licked that part of his leg from where a grey liquid kept oozing. His hand still nuzzled my ear as he whimpered in pain. Slowly he seemed to lose sense of where he was and he lost conciousness. I kept barking hoping for some human to come help us. I heard a vehicle approaching us, it made a sound which pierced my ears. I started circling Arnold, I did not want another car to hurt my human. The vehicle stopped right in front of us, and two humans came out with a bed. Something told me to trust these guys, so I let them take Arnold on the bed and put him inside the vehicle. Naturally I followed them, trying to get inside the vehicle but they pushed me away and shut the door. They didn't understand! He needed me! When he woke up he'd look for me and if I was not there he'd think I abandoned him when he needed me the most.I couldn't just leave him with these strangers, so I followed the vehicle.I ran behind it until it started to appear smaller and gradually disappeared, then I followed it just by the sound it made. Gradually, all the other car noises drained out it's sound and I had lost it completely. I was dumbfounded, I did not know what to do. That's when guilt started consuming me, I was supposed to stay awake, I was supposed to watch out for Arnold, I was supposed to take care of him. It was all my fault, I couldn't forgive myself. I started crying, I didn't know whether he was alright, whether I would ever see him again, whether he would want to see me again after what I had done. Then it dawned upon me, once Arnold was fine again, the two men would leave him where they found him first. So I ran, I ran with all my might towards the big tree. The grey liquid coming out of Arnold's leg was still there, and just looking at it pained me.I stayed there for two weeks, biding my time, waiting for Arnold, but he never came back. I thought what if he's at the park, so I searched all those places where Arnold and I usually spent our time, but I found him nowhere. Then I realised finally, he was never coming back. I had lost my human. I did not know, until then, what misery was. I felt a deep sorrow that I didn't know dogs were capable of. It felt like my existence was dependent on Arnold, and now that he was not there, everything seemed vain. All that I used to find interesting before, just became a task for me now. Life had become monotonous and cumbersome. All the fun and love had gone away with Arnold. I was alone and lonely. I hadn't known of a life without him, so I had to learn how to live again.
One day, I was walking around aimlessly, going trash can to trash can in search of food, when I saw a man inside a room with glass walls. He was limping around with a tray of glasses, while the other humans were eating. This man looked way too familiar to me. Before I knew it, I was running towards him like my tail was on fire. The shaggy beard was gone, ragged clothes were replaced by well-fitting garments, the hair was neatly cut, and the gait had changed. But this was still my Arnold, my human. Just when I had started to believe I'll never see him again, he was there right in front of me. I stood on my hind legs with my fore legs pressed to the glass and I called out to him. I barked with happiness, grief and excitement and waited for him to spot me. My tail was wagging with a frequency I hadn't quite experienced in the past one month. Some guy from the room repeatedly came out to shun me. No matter how many times he tried to drive me away, I came back. It felt like an eternity passed until Arnold finally lay his eyes upon me. I WOOFED. He looked at me, blinked, and turned around with his tray like I was invisible. It broke my heart, it seemed as if he didn't care about the fact that he saw his girl after a month of staying apart. He went on to speak with another human inside the room. He preferred to talk to this other human than meet me. I was upset, blatantly upset. Then I noticed Arnold nod, leave his tray, and march out with a bright smile plastered to his face. He opened the glass doors and ran towards me with arms outstretched.I galloped towards him, and he fell to the ground hugging me in his arms. I licked away his tears out of habit. I was home again.
"I thought I'd lost you, Patty", he said. "You came back, you're such a good girl!", he exclaimed.
I was his girl again, I was with my human again. And that moment, right then, I realised, if there was anything better than chasing butterflies and playing in puddles, it was this. Arnold.