Friday, 23 November 2018

The pace of you.


Everybody has their own pace of leading life. When a child is born, it* is innocent and learns to grow with curiosity.The curiosity in a soul needs to be kept alive so a person evolves and grows, and eventually feels enlightened enough to choose a life path for itself *.
But the naivety is gradually crushed when there is pressure on one to decide and lead its life as per the time frame defined by us in the first place.
I do not mean that one must be aimless in life and kill time doing absolutely nothing (not judging. If you afford to do that and are happy, who cares), but it is pure unjust for a person to rush through its’ life because it is meant to. A lot of people just want to pause too often, look around, and observe the beauty in a thousand ignored things, in nature or elsewhere, and resume when they are ready.  If everybody focused on moving fast, the world  would be an over competitive place to be in, where a lot of people would end up being depressed or cuckoo.
Time is relative, but perception is subjective. Perception exists, and it is not a made up word. It is not imaginary. Hence, pace is relative to each individual. 
I do not mean to demean people who are fast in life, Of course they have a pace too and good for them they are quick. Maybe they want their lives like that, but, maybe the people who are slower have different priorities than getting married at the right age or earning a billion before they are 40. But since now we are all measured in terms of possessions, the “slower” ones are brutally termed as unsuccessful.
Whoever said life is a race must have been really fast. “Appropriate” time as set up by others can be daunting emotionally to people. Looking at the world passing by on social media makes one feel that everyone is achieving great things while you are behind your mobile phones aimlessly scrolling, but, no one is going to put up their failures online so you don’t know what the other persons’ struggles are and how it is coping with them.
Which makes me wonder, why are failures a taboo? Isn’t that a part of growing as well? I believe it is high time topics like these were sabotaged from the list of being embarrassed about.
People need time to experiment their love lives, their professional lives, in fact even their spiritual life, and it should be okay to try and really know, that this is it. This is where I belong and this is my call. One needs to be satisfied with what they end up doing before reaching their deathbeds, instead of living in mediocrity only because it was time. Life is too special to be mediocre.





*Wrote “itself”  for convenience, and not to objectify humans. Kindly replace with Himself/herself or whatever you identify with J

Sunday, 14 October 2018

Sacred Games


This may sound like a rant, and honestly, it is one.
I am tired of opening my Facebook everyday and seeing a dozen posts that only exist to prove how one my religion is better than the other yours.
What I am writing here is things we already know but I just think we need to read it.

Religion is important. Hear me out. 

Picture courtesy : Sacred Games - Netflix

All religion essentially was bought in only to bring a sense of harmony or goodness. While evolving, we needed a path for discipline so there could be a sense of direction. Religion is important to give you strength and make you morally and ethically "correct".
People need to understand that with evolution, we need to grow, and although the moral grounds remain same, what was then written may not be absolutely the gospel of truth, considering the changes in our present times. The present need not be an exact replica of the past.
No religion ever mentioned another religion, particularly to be better or worse, merely because either all of them preached the same, or, all of them essentially knew how to CO-EXIST.
My religion is better than yours is a new concept and it has led us to "Devolve", if that is a word.


A rape is a rape, whether by a Muslim or a Hindu, or a Sikh or a Christian or even Goths.
The mere reason religion possibly was meant to impart knowledge is now the reason to spread distress.
When you blurt out a "fact" written in the scripture, please try to know the reason behind why it was written, I am sure it wasn't just a random blurt. It was there for a reason.


Are we so stupid to listen,and more importantly believe, to the political speeches spreading hate and forming opinions?

We visit other nations and are surprised to see how people are focusing on cleanliness and development. Guess what, you are wasting your time discussing why you think Ayodhya should be a place for a temple or a mosque, or why Aamir Khan is an anti nationalist because he thinks India is intolerant.

intolerance
ɪnˈtɒl(ə)r(ə)ns,ɪnˈtɒl(ə)rəns/
noun
  1. unwillingness to accept views, beliefs, or behaviour that differ from one's own.

You are proving his point by making an issue out of it really.

I wish I could say : Grow up, but sadly grown ups are the ones talking about it all the time. 
Go Benjamin Button rather.

Stop being used for votes. India is a huge vote bank and since literacy is low, we need to educate people to stop voting people based on religion.
Stop encouraging posts that create unrest even in your own minds. Believe in whatever religion you want to, if you want to. Just stop enforcing it on others.
Stop being played by the media. Watch news that discuss actual topics important so that they get lower TRPs and concentrate on showing things that matter.

Stop being a pawn in this game of being sacred.
Stop calling people anti-national merely because your views are superior different.

Friday, 23 May 2014

The Girl in the Park

"Sometimes it's not about the happy ending, it's about the story"

It happened this morning. A true incident with names changed.

The five of us were sitting on the grass. Since the time we have started working, none of us seem to meet too often. A random hello over the phone is what we suffice with. It is not really that we do not get time to meet, but generally it is just the two or three of us meeting at the same time.
Today, we met.

Each of us had major issues for being not so excited. I was really angry. For an hour, I waited for everyone to come. The plan for 7 am had shifted to 8 am because some were too lazy to wake up. By the time everyone else was here, I was too bored to talk. 
Akash's bike had a puncture while coming. How pissed off would he be to wake up on time and be the unfortunate one out of the thousands crossing the road to have met that one piece of nail lying on the road waiting to get in the tyre. 
Ayana slept at 3 am. The boyfriend and she had a fight over the plans for next weekend. Was a rough day to wake up early only to find out two new pimples on the forehead. 
Priti and Ornob have major ego issues. The typical best friends now enemies over the time because each was too much a snob to take the first step after a fight. 
But here, we meet. Fake smiles at its peak. We did not think it would be so awkward to meet your own friends. But the awkwardness did not last long. After someone showed off her new phone while the other showed off her engagement ring, the ice had broken.
We started doing what we love. Gossip. It seemed like the best way to get rid of the frustration of all the heaviness we had in our minds since morning.

Just then, a girl about the age of 23, called out : Hey ! how are you?
She came to us and sat with us. Each one of us wondered who she knew out of us. Hi, she said to Priti. Priti smiled and said Hi. She probably is her friend, I thought.
She sat down and greeted all of us.

She was a usual girl. Nothing too beautiful about her. Tidy hair, a few pimples, a big smile and chipped nail paint. She said hello to each one of us. Uninterested, we said hello as well. And then, Priti asked her if they had met before. 

The girl said no. But she likes to meet new people. All the others thought she was some lame girl trying to butt in and although we were totally uninterested, none of us had the audacity to ask her to leave. So here she was. Smiling and asking us questions like she was an old buddy.
'I loves Pizza and cold drinks'. 
She asks us who else loves Pizza. All of us smiled. Maybe it was the Pizza or her chirpiness. I don't really know, but she was starting to be not boring. I said I love Pizza, and so did Akash. She declares that people who love Pizza are really nice. 
"What are your names?"
We tell her our names and she asks Priti why she did not like pizzas?
Ayana tells her she is too diet conscious to have pizzas.
'Oh so you must love to exercise?'
'Yes, I do' said Priti.
'Can you do this?'. The girl lies down on her back, lifts her legs and then her back, balancing herself on her neck. We found it really weird. A little embarassing to be at a public place, seeing stuff like this, we kind of ignored it.
Ornob gets a call. He excuses us and leaves. She asks if he was talking to his girlfriend. We really had no clue. We ask her to ask him once he is back. Ornob comes back and she does ask him. He said why do you care?
We thought she would get offended, but instead she smiles and says I am just curious. I have a boyfriend so please do not flatter yourself assuming I am interested.
All of us roar with laughter.
She grabs her phone and shows us a picture of a teddy bear. She tells us its called Bobo and it is her boyfriend.
While she kept her phone down, I notice a big cut on her wrist. A big one. I was taken aback. I start to notice she indeed had been a little different. I ask her whether she is done studying. She says she was waiting for her High school results. She seemed atleast 5 years older than a High school girl.
Just then a man in his late 40s passes by. He comes to us and asks us if the girl is bothering us. We smile and tell him it is really fine. The girl tells him to take another jog and come back for her. It was her father.
He smiles and asks us if that would be okay and leaves.
She asks us if we were cousins or actual brothers and sisters. The naive question made us smile. Ayana tells her we were friends.
She tells us she had five friends, but now just four. Assuming she fought with one of her friends, we did not bother to ask why just four now. She shows us a picture of her fifth friend.
It was a lady in her late 30s. She looks at the sky. She tells us that is her mother. 
She looks up and says : I would never talk to you again mother. You left me alone and went to see God. I cannot forgive you, I cannot forget you. Her eyes are damp. But she is still smiling. She tells us she only talks to her 'new mother' now and other than her, she has her father, brother and her teddy as her friends.
She says her back is a little sore with the injection she got yesterday on her neck. It really pains. And the sleeping pills prescribed to her really taste bad. But she takes 30 medicines. Everyday. 
Since her mother died 5 years ago, when she was in High school and had appeared for her exams, she went into a coma. For six months. But she was happy that when she woke up, her entire family hugged her with love. She could not speak of walk, but her smile gave others smile. Her tears got others to tears. So she learnt to smile. She had nothing to lose. Why cry?
By this time, all of us were putting a fake smile again. Only this time, the fake smile was to hide the tears. The girl had a condition called Brain fever and Meningitis. From what I could judge, she was still in the past. Explaining why she still thought she had her high school results pending. 
Then she suddenly breaks into a song. A very peppy one. And asks us to sing along. She sang beautifully. And then tells us she paints when at home and loves photography. Infact she is a member of a group called 'Drashtikon' which is for amateur photographers who are really good at it.
She asks Priti if she could get her a candy and Priti gets her one. She shares it with all of us and asks how much to pay for it. Priti told her not to be silly and she smiles even more.

The girl was sick.
But was she?

She tried to be happy. She sang, ate a candy, spoke her heart out, acted the way she wanted to and left. We, on the other hand were being petty about pimples, time and biketyres. Priti and Ornob glanced at each other and the airs of egos were cleared.

All our issues seemed petty.

Now as we saw it, the girl was pretty.
And we still do not know her name. 

Friday, 19 October 2012

India - London - India


I don't want to sound like I am criticizing my country and that I dislike it. India is a beautiful place, with amazing food, amazing hearts, heritage and culture. The love for one's own family here is commendable. I would not want to brag about how good it is, because I think everyone is aware of it.

I am not into politics at all. I do cast my vote, but that's about it. Politics never caught my attention. Bt now, something strange happened. It was always there. It always happened. But spending 40 days in London and coming back gives me a realization that why did it not bother me before.

I was amazed last night thinking about why I would have a sleepless night thinking about ghoos and corruption. It never bothered me before.
Apparently, my sister wanted me to get her an I-phone 5 from UK since it had released there already and I had an allowance to get it to India as well. The procedure was to book it online, wait for the confirmation, and buy it from the shop the next day. Since there was a shortage of stock, my repeated attempts to book the phone failed. I kept trying for a week, and then decided to visit all shops and try to get a phone by paying a bit extra as a 'penalty'. I am not proud of it at all. But well, I tried. I tried to emotionally get them to give me a phone as well, saying it was my wedding gift to my wife, or my parent's anniversary gift. All my efforts failed. I did not really feel bad because that was fair for everyone who was waiting for the phone. (I did get one booked later, btw)
The system impressed me. No one was ready for the corruption. It was the laws or mindset, I do not know, but it was wow.

The reason I am writing this now is what happened when I reached India.

MY first 20 minutes after landing.

Tired, I get off my flight and went to the luggage collection area.
A stranger walked up to me and asked me for the code on my luggage bag.
Shocked, I asked him why?
'I could help you get your luggage sooner out from the flight. Just give me Rupees 500'
I had never heard of that before really.
On shooing him away, I met another guy right before the customs.
He told me he would take me through the green channel if I paid him a 1000. I told him I have nothing to hide from the customs, so I can cross without a problem.
He started trying to scare me off by saying that the custom officers wouldn't leave me and I would cry with blood, and such crap.
He said he knew the custom officer and could drop me off the channel.
I told him I have nothing to declare and know the law, so i don't need to worry and moved ahead. Nothing happened really.
Right when I reached outside the airport, I realized I had to make a call and my sim-card wasn't activated yet.. Someone noticed this and offered to help. I thought that was sweet, when I later realized he was reading the flight tags on my bags. He asked me a dinar for it. 200 Rs for a call, when I could make it in 1 Rupee. I refused and asked him where the payphone was. He said it was on the other end of the airport, and he would let me call for a pound. (Rs 85)
After some bargaining, he agreed for Rs 5 (LOL) and let me give a missed call.


Corruption is not only at the top level, but at every step. It has seeped into our mentalities. It makes me feel so helpless and disgusted with the quality of thinking people are developing. It always existed, but seeing that a nation could be free from it, I now realize that it wouldn't change unless we compare it to other countries. Blaming the government for the scams is right and must be done, but then, it's also time to introspect how corrupt we unknowingly have become.
The ministers in other nations do not have a red light and 500 guards for their security. I am no Aseem Trivedi, but in my own way, I would like to be like one someday.

Anyway, this blog has never seen anything like this before, but it was just necessary to blurt it out.

As for my trip: Aaah !





It was mind blowing. The sophistication, the accent, the markets, the Turkish and Mexican food, the clubs, the     bars, the bridges, the cafes, the cupcakes, the English breakfast, the museums, the gardens.
The chilly weather, the rains, the enunciation of vowels, the photo shootings, the relatives, the cute shops, the giant ones, missing the family, the freedom to walk, the freedom to talk, the freedom to laugh, the late nights, the casinos, the pool, the bowling, the movies, the strolling.
One amazingly long vacation, and a very beautiful one.

Thursday, 29 December 2011

2011 Good Riddance.

2011 Good Riddance.


Like every year, there was hope, that this would be the year everything would change.
But then, somehow, there was fear. Fear from change.
Excuses.
If you are scared of the darkness, it is not the darkness which is at fault.
                                                               - Raghu (Roadies fame)
Anyway, I hope 2012 will be my year.
And I hope I blog more :P
Soon.
P.S.  -   No offence to the very few readers I have (if any), but sometimes I wish I were an anonymous blogger.
At the moment, I tend to get blinded sometimes, with the thought that there are people who know me reading this, wondering what made me write so. I censor my thoughts, with the belief that what if I am being judged. What if I hurt anyone with what I write here. I am not completely ME while I write. Which, in the first place was my idea of blogging. To express myself. 
Honestly, so far I have been absolutely away from such thoughts, but in the recent months, I have seen people change. Some of my closest childhood friends getting judgmental ( Thanks spell check, I typed that as judgemental). Hence, the thought is bothering me.
But, I just read somewhere : " As long as you are worried what others think of you, you are owned by them " - Amitabh Bachchan.
Good to read, tough to implement. But well, what is to be done, has to be done.
Lets hope for the best.
New years resolution : Care a little less. :D

Sunday, 11 September 2011

If only I had the words...

"The true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them."
                                             - Oliver Goldsmith

I have never been good at explaining how I feel.
Even though I believe I am one of the best when it comes to reading a mind, I am one of the worst to express myself through words.
Here is something I have wanted to post since eternity, but strangely never did.
These are Some scribbled bits I drew/clicked during the previous year.
Seeing them now, gives me a brief flashback about each.
I very clearly remember why I drew/clicked each of these, remembering my mood swings and the flow of my thoughts during that period.
Every picture has a story.

A story of love, a story of betrayal, a story of faith, belonging, crushes, stability and well, emotions.
Emotions I felt, but failed to convey.

Loneliness.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Sense of being.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Shy.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Torture

Bewildered
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Random
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Need for acceptance. :(
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


If you are a joker, you are at the top of the world.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Patience.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.



Unsure.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Simplicity.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Is/was/is/was/is.. a friend.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Random.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Its complicated ;)
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Wanna Frandsip? ;) :D
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Waiting.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Explore.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

A little bit of everything.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

MOOD SWINGS.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Two hearts make a soul.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

Bwahahahhaa..

Life's a mess.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

BALANCE
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Mirror Mirror on the wall.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.
 
Crush.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.


Chance.
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.



 
Ssshhhh..
© 2011 Karan Kapoor.

















Memories.
The beauty about them is that they come to you once they are gone.
And that's the ugliness about them too.

Friday, 2 September 2011

Being left handed

Being a LEFTY.


" You laugh at me because I am different.
  I laugh at you, because you are all the same " 
                                             - A random SMS forward.

Its not as easy at you would think it is. But its not as bad as it is sounding like right now.
Firstly, let me tell you what made me write about this.
I was invited to a Pooja ( holy ceremony) today and was asked to help the Panditji with the.. well.. stuff.
So while I was adding ghee to a diya, the pandit interrupted.
"Galat haath hai"
"Do it with ur right hand" said my mum who was standing behind me.
That reminded me it was "unholy" to use my left hand for auspicious reasons.
In a right hand dominated world, 10% of the population would agree to atleast 90% of what I am writing here.

To begin with, while at school and really young, my teacher asked my parents to "visit a doctor" since I wrote with the 'wrong hand'.
Apparently, I cud even write upside down while at math, and she was concerned about it. What was wrong with that, I fail to understand. She forced me to write the usual way and now I can no more write upside down.
:(

Strangely, the best and the worst part about being lefty is the unwanted attention you get for no reason.
Its good when you like attention, but while you are writing an exam paper and the teacher is staring at your style of writing while you are just bluffing in an answer, you tend to get really nervous and prefer stopping to write for a moment till the woman stops being fascinated about a tiny little thing!

While I was growing up, it was really difficult using the scissors. You don't really get left handed scissors too easy here, and frankly, I didn't really find the need to look for one, since I am quite used to it now.



The most difficult of all although, was using a gel pen or an ink pen.
The problem with it is that whatever you write, gets washed off onto your sleeve. Blots of ink on the paper and your hands/sleeve.



Later, I joined my guitar lessons while I was 14.
I was told that you don't get guitars which are left handed (false) and I ended up learning it the "right" way.
[Playing guitar is fun btw !]

During High school, we had chairs which had a desk on the right where you could keep a book and write, while its open from the left, from where you sit.
Thankfully, my High school had a few left handed chairs.

Recently, at a course of GMCS ie General Management and communication skills, there was a faculty visit and the teacher was teaching us dining table manners.
I told her I was left handed and she said - whatever handed you are, you are supposed to be eating like I tell you to, which is : fork in left, knife in right.
Thanks to Google, I don't trust that teacher ( or most teachers for that matter).

Even though I have adapted to going to a restaurant and switching my cutlery from one side to the other, and making sure as far as I can remind myself to, to sit at the left hand corner of the table so that I do not bump into my colleague's right hand while we are eating, I would not want to be ordered to eat with someone else's insights on how it is appropriate to.

Did I mention how difficult it is to play cards?


[That ugly hand isn't mine and even though this person is holding it in his right hand, its because he is a righty using left handed cards. You don't really get them easily in India.]

Using a screwdriver, or a camcoder, or a can opener for that matter is difficult, but getting used to it and being challenged (yes, I did use that word on a silly thing) for the tiniest things, who doesn't enjoy that?

Especially if you get to be more musical, artistic, emotional and perceptive in return, it's fun :D