What I learnt in my first internship.

Like in our school days we were made to write essays on our "first" experience of something (my first dog, my first award, blah, blah), I will now tell you my first encounter with an internship. Before a child gets into law school, he/she has the most puristic view of an internship, especially an NGO internship, considering NGOs are like the superheros, who, with 'non-governmental' support, try to save the nation. I, too, always wanted to work for an NGO which helped the deprived and worked towards the betterment of the society. So, when I came to know we had to work for an NGO in our first year, I was delighted. Finally I had the chance to serve my motherland! Before the vacations began, I asked a few seniors what to look for in an internship. Their answers like "yaad nahi yaar, main toh bas ek hi din gaya tha,certificate leke wapas aa gaya" and "actually, I don't remember. It was quite insignificant" left me confused. Weren't internships supposed to be the most important part of law school? Didn't people die to get into places like NHRC and UN organisations? I decided I wanted to work nevertheless, and searched for a few NGOs in my hometown and gave the details to the placement cell. After waiting for sometime, when none of the NGOs replied, I contacted them on my own. Finally, I got an internship at an NGO which works for water conservation (yes, so much for saving humans) and river cleaning. I still did not give up. I went to work and on the first day, the head of the NGO told me I was to do some paperwork and later, I will be sent for a field trip to see how the water conservation plants worked (I was excited out my wits, trust me). Since a month I have been doing paperwork and with 2 days left for my internship to get over, I don't see that field trip happening anytime soon. So, for around a month now, I have been handling the accounts of the NGO. The accounts run into crores and my maths is as good as my dog's, so you can imagine how much fun I had doing my job. Everyday from Monday to Saturday, 11 to 5, I suffered. I wanted to call some NGO to save me from the torture. But, there is one thing this internship taught me- patience. Doing accounts for 6 hours everyday, I feel like I have been trained to digest any sort of monotony life could offer me from now on. I can sit staring at a wall for an hour straight and trust me, I'll survive. I found out internships are overrated, first year law students are of no use to any NGO and I sacrificed my beautiful vacations to save water. Sigh.

Growing up or giving up?

I always thought life was not just a mere journey but an adventure. The least you could do to keep up with it was take risks. I was a firm believer of living each day as it comes. Life was never too planned out, never too calculated. I was impulsive and reckless and that seemed to work for me. Indulging in random acts of craziness just to make life more colorful, actions before thoughts and decisions before speculations- life was simple, easy. Times change, we change. We grow up. Life isn't all that easy anymore. Everything seems to have a purpose. No more impulsive actions, no more miscalculated decisions. We grow up to learn that everything should be thought about and the risks weighed. Everyone around you judges you by your actions, everyone wants to pull you down. So what do you do? Pull them down too. Gone are the days when you couldn't care less about the rest. Now all your actions are based on what they expect out of you. The child in you dies slowly and you do nothing to save it. After all, you have to grow up. What we forget is that with that inner child, we let a part of our soul die too. The energy which used to drive us, the faith that used to keep us from falling and the hope of rising again after a fall, all die slowly. We poison our brains with the venom of sensibility. Not everything has to make sense, but we often seem to forget that. I cried before my eighteenth birthday because I was upset I had to grow up. Everyone told me "its just a number". We all know it is not. I despise having to be responsible. I hate the fact that I have to make my own decisions and there seems no one who's got my back. Yes, I hate being a grown up. The unnecessary worry of the future and of things I shouldn't even care about gets to me. I regret letting it go, and I wish it would come back. That very part of me which made me the person I was.

My Happy Place

Whenever we are angry or upset, the noise of our thoughts is louder than any other sound around. We try to shut our mind up, try to distract ourselves with something else. But my mind is the exact place I want to be when I am upset because my mind is the only place where I can be completely alone.

I have this place in my mind which is my Happy place. A place where I am alone, a place where I can hear what my heart wants to say instead of the screaming thoughts of my mind. I always imagine it to be a beach, on a sunny day. The sun is setting making the sky a beautiful shade of red. I sit on the beach in front of my house. I know its my house because its exactly how I wish it would be. Small, white, with huge windows. As the sun sets, the sound of waves overpowers the sound of my thoughts. I settle into a comfortable silence, with no noise except of the waves. The sun sets and the night takes my breath away. A star-lit sky looks down on me. I have always had this fascination with stars and planetariums, and the sky is a real life planetarium. The sea is not scary, its like a lullaby, gently soothing me away. Cool breeze and my dimly-lit home behind me, it has to be the most beautiful place in the world.

I do not know if any such place exists. But I have decided to find out. If not, I would still I have my Happy Place in my mind :)

Teardrops and Insanity.

This is a dream I had a few days ago. Enough reason for me to think I am schizophrenic.

 I was touched by his invitation. He was a lonely man and he craved for some company. Yes, He was a little weird. Many people thought He was scary but I just perceived Him as different. A friendly smile or some times a little chat filled with awkward conversation would be a part of our daily routine. I think I was his only friend at the office and when He invited for dinner, I couldn't refuse, more out of pity than eagerness.

I was a wearing a blue dress and carried a bottle of wine to his house. I rang the bell and the door opened when a white puppy came out from nowhere and started taking extraordinarily huge leaps and jumped on me. The bottle fell from my hands and the wine spilled all over the floor. Suddenly, a girl of maybe 13 appeared and started cleaning the floor. Soon, He arrived and the dog and the girl were nowhere in sight. He gave me an awkward hug and invited me inside.
His house was tiny and the paint from the walls was peeling off. He kept many books and a desktop computer but there was no other means of communication or entertainment in sight. His dining area was small and congested and suddenly, it made me sick. I managed a faint  smile but something in my mind was telling me everything was not right.
He had gone to heat the food while I looked around his apartment. There was a lot of geeky stuff and CDs of bands I had never heard of. The furniture was old and dusty and the house was as if the windows had never been opened. The air was heavy and the atmosphere damp. I asked Him where the bathroom was and excused myself. I entered another corridor and as I was reaching the bathroom, the puppy reappeared and started running towards me barking loudly. The puppy was an off white color and at other times I would have considered him adorable but suddenly, I was scared. I started running towards the room. The puppy grabbed the end of my dress and I shook my leg hard to get it off. It flew and hit the wall. I thought I had killed it when all of a sudden, it started attacking me again. I got into the room and shut the door. The puppy kept scratching the door and howling. I stayed inside till everything was quiet. After some time, there was a knock on the door. I opened the door. He stood there with a confused look on his face. "What took you so long?" He asked. "I was just waiting for your dog to calm down so that I could get back to the table" I replied, not able to gauge his feelings as he was both amused and confused. "I do not have a dog" He said with a smile.

We were seated at the dining table. He had prepared a decent meal and served me some wine. I was still shaken up from the whole incident. I felt nauseous and uncomfortable. I just wanted to get out of that place. Then I suddenly realised that my dress was torn by the dog. I looked down and saw my dress was perfectly alright but there were marks of a dog's teeth on my right leg. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I went into the kitchen to fetch some water. My hands were trembling and I spilled some water on the floor. The same girl appeared again and started wiping the floor with a cloth. The girl was wearing a shirt and a skirt. She wore two plates and had extremely dark circles under her eyes. She had a sad look oh her face and was cleaning the floor with extreme dedication. She cleaned the floor spotless and turned around and went out of the back door of the kitchen. I went back to the dining table. He was waiting for me. He served us dinner and we ate in complete silence. He didn't say anything and I was too tired from the earlier events to think of anything to say. After dinner, it was time for desserts. He had made mango souffle. I gulped it down as all I wanted to do was go home. In my hurry, I dropped some of it on myself. I dreaded going to that room again so I asked him of there was another bathroom in the house. He told me to go through the backdoor and on the outside there was a bathroom. I went in the bathroom. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was scared. I felt like a little vulnerable child. My tears fell on the bathroom floor. All of a sudden, I could feel something near my feet. I looked down. The girl was sitting near my feet and wiping the tears off the floor. I screamed. I looked at the door. It was bolted. My screaming made no difference to her and she continued cleaning the floor. "What..How.. How do you appear every time...?" I asked while gasping for air and crying loudly. "Who me?" she asked and looked at me with an innocent smile.. and blood dripping from her eyes.

Dear God.

Dear God,

Wassup? Long time, no see. I tried contacting you a lot of times, but seems like there is some problem in your network. You are either out of the coverage area of your network or you are busy. If its the former, then I suggest you change your network provider. And with all the new age technology, you don't even have to change your number. But if its the latter, then you should really subscribe to a voice mail service. You know, it kind of gets annoying trying to call someone and not getting a reply even once.

I assume you've been real busy now a days and therefore have had no time to keep up with what's going on in my life. Unfortunately, I find Twitter too demented or else you could have followed me on it. But I do have Facebook account which I do stalk religiously and a wall post from you wouldn't be that bad.

So, I'll give you a heads-up on the situation. I am having a hard time with my life. Not that anything's wrong with it in particular but sometimes, its just a little too much to handle. I am just out of my teenage and adulthood is slightly confusing you see. I am not sure how to deal with a lot of things and have no experience with them whatsoever so it would have been nice if you were around a little more, considering you have a lot of experience with life. I genuinely needed a friend in those times and I thought we were friends. Now that I think about it, I imagine you wearing that "F.R.I.E.N.D.S- If you buy me a beer" T-shirt. Really, what have you been doing?! Are you on a summer vacation?? Then please send me a postcard from where ever you are.

Some people say you do not exist. I just can not believe that. We were friends once(hopefully still are, unless you have changed your mind and decided you do not want anymore stalkers and chucked me out of your Friend's List). I know you are not a bad person per se but you really need to keep in touch with your friends, dude. In this crazy world of PR, you really can not cut back on the socialization. You are a celeb, for God's sake! Please, act like one and give me a page 3 pic with you soon.

I am not really angry with you(can't afford that). I am just worried something's wrong with you, like your Facebook account crashed or you are too bankrupt to pay your phone bill. If its anything like that buddy, I am just a phone call/wall post away. Do not feel shy. Shit happens in everyone's life. As they say "a friend in need is a friend indeed".

So, ping me asap. Or text me. If that's also not possible then you could write a letter. I know you are a little old school types. Its okay, no big deal. Keep in touch. Have fun with the chicks there. They seem to be keeping you real busy lately.

Yours lovingly
An Old Friend

It’s never just a cricket match!

24^th March 2011, a day that took away all the senses of a few billion people watching an EPIC match between India (Bharat) and Australia (um..Kangaroos?).

As the match began and the Australians were batting, I indulged my mind into some other activities, staying as far as possible from the TV screen. I have this (superstitious) belief that every time I watch a match of a team I support, my favorable team loses. I know it sounds ridiculous has to how MY presence amongst so many people could affect the fate of a team. But still I believe in the notion and keep my eyes away from the TV. Though my friends constantly assured me that we will win, I didn’t want to take a risk. I actually went to have panipuri because I was so restless. After I went home I sat aimlessly on Facebook, every time my heart skipping a beat when people in the streets yelled. The Australians put up a score of 261, which was far below than what I had expected of them. But knowing that there is always an equal chance with a strong team like Australia, I just prayed to God that we win, literally. I hadn’t been to the prayer room in ages (since my boards ended) and I know it seems selfish to remember God only when you need him, but I still prayed that we win. Somehow, I felt confident that my prayers won’t go unanswered.

Our batting started. I do not know much about the technicalities of cricket. I can just curse the Captain for a bad judgment, but I can not pin point the mistakes. I am like those thousands of devoted fans who probably know nothing of the game but still watch it like we could be pros.

Our openers decide half our game. Sachin, sorry, God is like our lucky charm. If Sachin plays, India wins. After the dismissal of Sehwag (I thought it was Sachin, but later realized it was Sehwag and relaxed a bit. Stupid internet sources :@). But my peace of mind did not last long. Sachin was out. I have to say, Yuvraj did save our ass and Dhoni made a remarkable judgment by keeping Pathan out of the game (something my mom was so proud of) and keeping Raina instead. The whole time I was sitting in the room next to the TV room and praying endlessly. I was nervous. More nervous than I was before giving my Economics board exam. For the 30 seconds I came into the living room to watch, we lost another wicket and my mother, very kindly, told me to get lost. I couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that even my very rational mother now believed that I had something to do with our team winning :D

Every now and then I was called to give water to the cheering crowd at my house and I remarked later after we had won the match that I felt like Pathan; sitting out of the game yet helping the team win :D

I was getting hilarious updates from various friends. For instance, one of friends remarked at Gambhir’s wicket “I don’t know what he was doing. Was he horny and he thought Yuvraj was Eva Green or something that he started running like mad?”. Haha. i had lost hope in the middle, but somehow, we managed. Actually, we more than managed. We pretty much owned it. When the final over came, my mother continuously insisted I come and join everyone, but I refused. I remember the India- England match and frankly, my heart was in no position to take another draw. I sat outside till the last ball, and on the last ball, I came in, Yuvi hit a four and I saw the most adorable sight of the day- my grandmother started clapping like a little kid! J

We were all highly overjoyed. Did we just beat the Australians? Did we just beat the three time world champions? I couldn’t believe it. I think I was crying. So was Ponting, but for a different reason altogether. I did not feel so bad for him but I did for Lee (who had gotten hurt pretty bad earlier) because he is the only player I like from their team. Otherwise, Australians are sore losers. They curse and abuse and an instance which I repeated more often than necessary, they had broken our washing machines when they lost from us in the Common Wealth Games. They really need to learn how to be sporty. I was being a sadist and I couldn’t help it. I was happy. Very, very happy. I could hear people bursting fire crackers outside. Even my dog got up from her beauty sleep to wag her tail a few times! :P

I celebrated with my crazy sister and to much annoyance of my mother by dancing on “sadi galli” like a maniac.. we laughed like retards and then finally, it settled in. We had really won! Next we play Pakistan at Mohali and the its going to be even more crazier. I just can not wait for the next match!

In India, cricket is not just a game. Its religion. it’s a matter of life or death, pride or disgrace, laughter and tears. We are winning the Cup this time, and there is no stopping us! :D

Why am I so lost?

I have everything anyone can ever want. Loving parents, awesome friends, a life to look forward to and a career I aim at achieving. Still, every night when the world is asleep and there is peace, I find myself lost.. I feel a sudden ache caused by a grave feeling of loneliness. The day passes quickly and I do not mind being alone, the sounds of the happenings around me keeping my thoughts at bay. As the night approaches, I find myself staring at objects for no certain reason. Its like a void. Random thoughts that haunt me, thoughts that probably mean nothing but still make me uneasy. Sleep rarely comes easily and often I have to wait for my mind to shut up so that I can escape to weird dreams that are somehow more soothing than reality.

A few years back I had developed a sleep disorder. Times then were different though.. Maybe I just never let go. I have tried everything to fill in the emptiness, but I guess, life can never be perfect. Everyone can't have everything. I had learnt it years ago that life is a compromise and happiness is always followed by sadness. 

Maybe one day, when I will find what I want and the annoying feeling will go away. I just need find out what it is that's bothering me so much. The day I find out what it is, I will make sure I get it. Because I am tired of being lost and sleepless..

To dream beyond a nightmare.

Recently I read an article about a young Yemeni girl of ten years of age who was married, sexually exploited and beaten mercilessly by her husband and in-laws. She was sold by her father, bought by a monster, lived with blood suckers and in her tender age of ten, lived a nightmare many of us can not even imagine.

In my neighbourhood, there is this wife beater who beats his wife each day, there are noises of screaming and crying and nobody seems to care. I can not place exactly which apartment the noises are from but once I did have a strong urge to call the police. The howling soon stopped and I kept wondering to myself why a woman would live with a man who beats her everyday.

Women, by nature, are more submissive and resigned than men. They have immense mental strength and go through agonising mental and physical torture each day, each moment just to make someone else happy. But, the question is, is this fair? Obviously not, many of us would say. But, go back to the older generation and the women will tell you that a woman's life is filled with pain and sacrifice and that it is her duty to put up a brave face, no matter what.

I have lived in a very liberal atmosphere, I am the only child and my parents are very supportive of me. I never realised how much that meant until I saw women fighting for their most basic right, the right to live. I am a woman and I am proud of being one. I do not call myself a feminist, I believe in equality. But I also believe that sometimes you have to fight for what you deserve. I want to see all women, regardless of their religion, caste, colour or creed, to stand up and fight for what they deserve. I want to see men respect women and their feelings, to value their emotions and talent. I want to see equality, I want to see love. I want to see a dream beyond the nightmare.