Scaling the goodness of a dangerous mind

"You need a gauge ... A scale on which to compare yourself against. It's an everyday struggle - when I ask myself if I am good enough, that I am not turning like him, turning like my dad. I want to be a better human being than him, but since he was never there in my life  I have no gauge to compare myself against, so all I can do is strive to make myself a better person " - he said as he hung his head as if the weight of this  "responsibility" would break his soul..

She looked at him - she knew what he meant, for him and for her. Those well-meaning eyes almost wanting to warn him, but not yet. She had to quickly hide the moisture that had built up in her eyes, as she couldn't help but notice how different he was from all the others. Faith  fear and fate make people do some crazy things, and they wouldn't even know about it.

She was finding it tough to focus on what he was saying, as her thoughts turned to her own childhood - big, happy family, with she being the spoilt princess of her daddy. She adored him, he was the one - stop-shop for all her tantrums and mood swings. He was her hero - in her eyes he could do no wrong. And all the men she met in her life had to be "gauged" against her daddy. No one was good enough, as her daddy was the best...

That was until the day she caught him cheating.

There was a loud crash.. It wasn't the sound of her world crashing down  but someone had smashed a glass, tearing her back to the present,in front of this guy who she met only a couple of hours back, when he "rescued" her from the scuffle with the "goons" earlier in the evening.

There is an inherent goodness in each one of us, just like the inherent darkness. The ability to contain both the goodness and darkness in one's mind within boundaries is what keeps us sane. But the most dangerous people are the ones who are incapable of defining those limits.. They are like the virus in the matrix which will doom the well - maintained system. The guy in front of her - he was one such person. He did not have any limits, he did not know when to stop. He needed to be stopped right there.

As she drove past his body in his Porsche, she knew in her heart she had done some good for the world. After all  she knew well enough what the "goodness and its scale" meant. After all  she had grew up with it  unlike him. 

30 Day Blog Challenge - Day2 :: 20 Facts about me

20 facts about me

1. Food is something I live for, and I can die for (or kill? Maybe). I have competed with many heavyweights, and won! So if you intend to feed me good food, make sure you make massive quantities

2. In my 7th class, when a poem written by me wasn't published in my school magazine, next time I submitted articles copied from my friend’s school magazine. That was my first brush with plagiarism, and I was so ashamed later that now I grow fangs when I see something blatantly copied

3. I love snow, but hate winters. 

4. I can bend my fingers all the way to the back of my hand (and scare the sh** out of people)

5. I am spiritual, but not religious (but I love the food and festivities of religious celebrations)

6. I love travelling, and meeting people from different cultures. But I am also socially awkward at first – the kind who knocks off things around her in nervousness

7. Hypocrites, super moms, power hungry professors – people I can’t stay in the same room with

8. Books – I cant keep one down till I finish it, no matter how boring it might be. The most difficult one for me to finish was Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. I love his writing, but somehow that one took forever

9. I am scared of heights, old age and dogs.

10. One movie which I recommend to everyone with a sensible head and sensitive heart is “Turtles can fly”. And one book which I love gifting is “Seven Years in Tibet”

11. Speaking if Tibet, there was a time not so much in past when my friends were worried I might run away to Tibet or become an activist. 

12. I want to learn to drive. And I want to learn to put on nail paint.

13. I have ridiculously small feet – I used to be directed to kids section when I was in college! And surprisingly, it has grown 2 sizes AFTER college, but it’s still too small

14. I truly believe, that all major problems can be handled after a good sleep

15. I find it very unsettling, that my little daughter wants to copy me in everything! For the sake of all my craziness, I just wish she would have a better role model than me!

16. I somehow remember things from when I was very little, things which weren’t so nice. And one day I intend to tell 

17. I can’t get my head around watching sports on TV- why the heck would you want to watch a ball being thrown around, one that you can’t even touch! 

18. My house is always a mess, and I love it! If you come to my house and find it tidy, you probably shouldn’t open any doors for your own safety.

19. My tears have a mind of their own. They don’t come out when they need to, out of some social obligation. But pour out in buckets even on a stupidest memory when I am alone. If you have seen me cry, you probably know its very ugly to watch. But so you know, you are one of the closest one to my heart!

20. I just can’t believe I have done it! I seriously can’t! But I am just looking at the rest of the list of the 30-day challenge, and looks like there's going to be lots of repetitions.

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 1

So I've taken up this challenge to talk about myself shamelessly for 30 days! sort of like a blog-fie! Might just be the thing to help me shower some love on my blog. It’s the month of luurve after all.

So today’s challenge is “Your blog’s name” – the simplest one! But I have a .. erm.. history of “names”, something I am not very proud of. My own name means “fishy” – what the hell were my parents thinking! And my brother’s name was decided during his school registration (since my parents forgot the important aspect of the school registration process- the name of all the things! (what were they calling him before that? Oh well, in India, we have this system of 2 names – one is the home name, sort of nick name, and the other one a formal name. His nick name so far resembled a certain “vegetable”, and I am not going to reveal what is it, for the fear of my life as I am damn sure my brother will be reading this one). So when my parents reached the school, and started filling out the form, the first field was – Name of the Child – which shouldn’t resemble a certain vegetable. And when they asked the person behind the desk, if they could leave that space blank, and come back later with the name, they weren’t thought to be very funny. So in their frenzy, they just skipped through the last couple of forms filled by other parents, and got the first proper name they came across – the fact I cant even tease my brother with, cause, you know, the “fishy” bit…

So coming back to the name of my blog – well I too have got this issue with naming creativity, and I would happily attribute it to my genes. This blog- Randomness – was chosen when one day I was bit by the writing bug, and thought of starting a blog and all, but the first thing it asks me is – the name ofcourse. And it doesn’t let me skip through previous names and let me choose a begged, borrowed, or stolen one, because, google ofcourse… so here was the most unimaginative name of the blog ever(well, there was this blog for which I used to ghost-write movie reviews, which had a very sleazy name, but even then I wont call it unimaginative. Of all the sleaziness, it atleast evoked some emotion. But “Randomness”? )

May be one day I might stumble upon a really clever name for my blog. I might start a new one. Or I might hit upon a lottery and go ahead and “buy” one of those blogs with really clever names (one of the name that stuck to my mind when I started crochet was RepeatCrafterMe – I just love the play of the words here.. ). I wish.. I wish…

To wear or not to wear... A jeans, ofcourse!

It's easily past midnight, but a recent headlines in Indian newspaper shook me up and woke me up like no cup of coffee could do of late.   "martial restrictions on attire now amount to denial of self expression".     Find it here  This came into picture after supposedly a lady filed for divorce on the grounds that she was forced to wear saris, and not allowed  to wear jeans or salwars.

Now coming from a conservative north Indian family, and married into one, I know how absurd it is. No, not the fact that girls are actually dictated on what they should wear. No not even the fact that it "wasn't a case of denial of self expression" before this case.  But the fact that what you should wear, esp.  After marriage, and more importantly what you shouldn't, is so natural in the Indian context that it is mostly hardly an issue at all!
I never, yes, never knew something was amiss when I grew up being told that jeans, which contours your hips and bums, was evil, but a saree, which shows off your entire midriff, wasn't.  And when after marriage, I visited my husband's ancestral village, I was told to cover my face, hiding even the chin and neck with my saree pallu, to "save me from eye" - and it was all an adventure for me! It was only after I visited my office premise wearing a saree, covering my head, because my in laws had come visiting - that I realized how stupid it was - to wear something that you are not comfortable wearing just because someone doesn't approve of it! And know what? My in laws understood too! It was just that they, and me, didn't know any better before!
But did it give me the freedom to choose my attire? No not really. In fact, not at all! Well, the purpose of covering your body in so many different ways, among other things, is to blend with your environment, your current ecosystem. It was the purpose of clothes in the primitive times, when clothes were a means of protection body against hostile climate or adverse topology, and in current times, it is to blend with the kind of social or environmental setup "around" you.  Why else would you not wear your wedding gown on that sunny picnic, even though it would always be your most favorite dress of all time? Or your pj's in the next business meeting, even though they are your most comfiest outfit?
My point is - clothes have to be in accordance to your current ecosystem - the place your are in, the people you meet on everyday basis, and the type of work you do.  And that, in context of India atleast, is changing. So you have to change too. With You - I mean the one who has to "wear" certain things, and the one who has to "see" people (females?wives? ) around them wearing things they never expected them to wear. In Hindi we have a saying "jaisa des waisa bhes"  - meaning "dress as per your county". Girls can continue to dress in sari or whatever her husband/ in laws/neighbor of the aunt of the cousin whose cow mated that bull of the third son of your great grandfather expects in places where her world revolves around these people. Quite frankly, not just the girl, even if a guy gets dressed in an elvis Presley suit in a locality where he has to work hard in a farm, he will be the butt of the jokes. But where the world around you is changing, it's important that you don't come across as If from a time wrap.. Sorry, warp..

So, what is your say? Would you let your sister - in - law wear a jeans even if your mum and dad find it "uncultured"? 

My daddy strongest

Having read so many father - daughter quotes of late, the most on - my - face example of it came through when my husband and I took our toddler out for a stroll.. Now my daughter got a balloon from somewhere, and got so fond of it that she kept holding it the entire time - 3hrs to be precise.. Now just as we were about to cross a road, she lost the grip and it flew off on the busy road..  Pravin my husband ran and somehow got back the balloon, despite angry honks from the passerby cars..  When my daughter saw this, she enjoyed it so much that after some time, she threw the balloon yet again, and looked at us for a reaction.. I got angry at her attitude and asked Pravin not to fetch it again..  But before I completed my banter, he was at it again..  I kept telling him how we will spoil her eventually if this attitude continues and its long term effects.. But quite oblivious to what I or the world felt that time, the father daughter duo continued their game - she kept throwing her balloon, and Pravin kept running behind it and fetching it again, be it from a dangerous slope or a private, restricted property...
It took me a while to actually notice her giggles every time he brought back the balloon for her, and the high he got from it..  And to actually make sense out of it, I had to go back to MY relationship with my dad..  The One moment when I came out of the operation theatre after I delivered my baby, to find that everyone - even my mom and my husband, had left with the baby who had come out of the OT couple of minutes back.  The only person waiting outside - was my dad..  I was, and will always be his princess, just like this naughty little balloon throwing piece of crazyness - she will always be my husband's princess, to my eternal jealousy and her eternal delight ...  Love you papa..

Library and so much more!

The one thing that has finally made me start liking this place, is the library (people tell me Starbucks will be another strong reason (yes, am yet to taste the taste of Starbucks, even after it opened a couple of outlets in India))...
I just happened to step into the Gallery of modern art in the next lane, and there was this entire floor dedicated to the library..  Since it was almost time to close, so couldn't explore the collection much, but it had a dedicated kids section, free wifi and free registration! 12 books at a time seems sufficient for a month. And its single membership across all 9 libraries of glasgow. And what I hear from sources is that they arrange rhymes and reading sessions for kids a well! Yaay!

Glasgow memoirs : First bus ride

Oh yes, there were couple of more interesting things today - like the visit to kelvingrove park (we couldn't enjoy much since we were totally worn out after the 9 mile walk and hungry as hell)  and sighting a hindu temple (they offer free vegetarian food! But it was 4 hrs away..  Thanks for the offer God, but may be next time)...
So after bugging a very sweet and polite lady at the bus stop (God bless her), we got to know the nitty gritties of the bus system.. that we need exact change when we board to get the tickets. She speculated hard and calculated that we would need £3.90.. We fumble through our pockets and somehow manage to add up the exact change...  And then God decides to play some really funny games with our already hungry and tired souls..
So when we board the bus, the driver asks us to pay £2.40.. With a really sweet and sympathetic smile..  I just looked at all the tinkering pieces of metal in my hand with pics of the Queen in varied sizes.. And looked at the driver helplessly.. I mean.. Someone must be in a jolly good mood to design a miniscule coin for a pound and a very big, valuable looking coin which is a peace.. To make it worse, an even bigger coin is 20 pence... And all the denominations are in words, not numbers!
Anyway, wet somehow managed to pay the.. Yes.. EXACT change..  To a huge relief of the rest of the crowd in the bus...
So tonight, we have cancelled our dinner date and instead will study 2 things - 1. bus timetables and 2. How to identify a coins denomination by just looking at it...