Sunshine, Hope and Love

A feather light touch that tickles the air,
A whiff of summer; warmth of mother's care,
Sunshine fills the soul, bringing warmth and light,
The strength giving wings, the soul taking flight!

The dust swirls, dances and glides,
The river springs, gurgles and slides,
The mare runs free, no restraint, no rein,
The touch that heals, no scars, no pain!

A presence so strong it fills the void;
Barren no more, sunflowers sway overjoyed;
A thought that provokes, guides and molds,
The shining beacon, the hopeful roots that holds!

The Faceless Terror.....

THE FOOTSTEPS ECHOED LOUDLY IN HER EARS,
BLOOD THROBBING, POUNDING, PUSHING, HURTING,
PANIC TOOK SEIZE, THE WORDS MERGING INTO SLURS,
TAKING FLIGHT, A BEE ABOUT TO STING!

THE HAIR ESCAPE, TRAILING LIKE A SNAKE,
CHASED, GRABBED, PULLED AND TUGGED,
WIND SEEMED TO HOWL FOR HER SAKE,
SHE STUMBLED, CONFUSED, DAZED, DRUGGED!

HANDS REACHED OUT, CATCHING HOLD,
TAKING, CLAIMING, POSSESSING, DEFILING,
HER BREATH STOPPED, BLOOD RAN COLD,
AS FACELESS TERROR TOOK OVER HER SOUL!

A PEICE OF MEAT AND NOTHING MORE,
SHOWN HER PLACE, VALUE AN USE,
EVEN AS SHE FOUGHT, WAVES CRASHING ON THE SHORE,
LEFT BROKEN, PUNISHED FOREVER, NEVER AGAIN THE MUSE!

The fluttering butterfly...

Rotting wood, sinking mud, flies flying low
A path that disappears like smoke in the wild
Silence as thick as a frozen sheet of snow
Who could guess this once nursed a family, a child?

Years had not been neither loving nor kind,
Taking away the warmth, the softness, the calm
Leaving her barren, hard and blind
Not a soul to nurse her wound, not even the balm

Yet, the will stays unbroken, brittle but still
Fighting it out with the fire and the storm
The hope that was, the dream of the will,
A dazed moth, to its death drawn...

The promise of friends that would not part
Leaving her behind without a glance, forget a thought
An iron will kept her standing, with a shattered heart
Still searching for the same laughter, the fluttering butterfly uncaught!

Being a 'Monkey' at work!

                                  'Are you a monkey?' thundered rhetorically my irate senior yesterday.  This gentle manner of rebuke is quite common at my work place. My fault of course was that I was being myself, hyper ventilating over a new project at work. I have always been one with extreme sides, my biggest strength and fault. Working in an environment of extreme activity where every second matters has, let's just be honest about this, not helped at all! Thus resulting with the new christening "MONKEY"

This is not the first time that I have gently been reminded to realise that I am a novice in the field and that I have miles to go before I can even deem to think of myself as a 'trained' worker. 'You are a child in the organisation', I remember my Boss telling me one day when he caught me being a little confident in my work. Back then of course I used to think that I have learnt so much that I could do what was expected without any guidance. This one I managed to overcome with no effort from anyone, believe you me. Realising that each day brings a new lesson, not only from seniors but even from someone not a part of your work space has slowly dawned on me (lord I sound grown up!)

 Being a monkey isn't a bad thing though.I mean if most scientists are to believe we all have come from the monkeys. So I am a monkey at work. If logic is to be followed so were my seniors. I mean, they too must have started somewhere no? This only dawned upon me when I ran into seniors of my seniors. I think it is human nature to believe that the standard of excellence is what one sees before one. Only when exposed to various aspects of a role does one notice the cracks in the pedestal, as those who were so comfortably seated on it stumble and fall. So trail and error is the way as I hopefully progress following the age old path of evolution.





                                      

A need to change: A need to let me be!

                       From candle light vigils to media campaigns, from the glamour world coming out on the streets to the mournful reassurances of the political leaders, from Parliamentary debates to street side vandalism; the past two weeks have seen it all. It all came to an end, of sorts, on Saturday (labeled Black Saturday by some), when the girl who was the victim of the heinous act passed away in the middle of the night. What bothers me is not just the incident, not just the massive protest that followed, not even the questions that were raised by Abhijit Mukherjee on the nature of the protesters. What bothers me is that behind all the chaos, there is a mentality that still lives, quiet and stable.

                            The incidents of rape have not increased or decreased in the past two weeks. Yes the media today is floated with more incidents of rape than usual, but given the furor in society over the topic that is only to be expected. They feed the need of the hour, fueling the temper, as the who's who of the society demand changes to the law. The Government is scrambling to give in to the demands of the crowds while also maintain the constitutional stability of the structure. Yet, at the root of it all lies the problem that rape is considered in various perceptions by most, and the opinion is so varied that it not only shocks, it feels incredible to a simplistic mind like mine.
                   Perhaps the reason why the arguments seem so incredible and ludicrous to me is because I can never comprehend this act as anything but animalistic. The thought of one's space being so brutally invaded, the thought of being subject to the touch that not only abuses but also demeans, snatches one's selfship over own body; makes my skin crawl & perhaps that is the reason why I can never approach the subject with the casualness that most do. Given my natural aversion to the discussion of the subject. it is unlucky that I have been unable to escape this topic. But what is worse is that I have had to tolerate the various justifications that have been stated.
                 The most shocking statement that I heard was from a friend on the cool Christmas eve, as we sat under the trees and enjoyed a meal together. "I think"- he started quiet confidentially, "that not all, but almost 70% of the rapes are consensual." Apparently my aghast expression caught his attention and he rushed to explain that "Not all of them of course, but yes quiet a few. I mean how is it possible that one man can rape a woman who is not willing?"

This wasn't coming from an uneducated man, nor one who was conservative in his thought process. I wondered whether this is what the world has come to, a place where the leading patrons of society finds the idea of rape so alien. Another, an MBA spoke about the mental capabilities of the rapist justifying that one doesn't know what the rapist have been through, the life experiences that led to the act. Even if one was so inclined to look into the psyche of a rapist, I doubt one is inclined to excuse the act, no matter what they might have been through. For me, there is no excuse for one man or four men using and abusing another human being.

               What today needs to occur is not a change in the laws alone, but a change in the mentality of how we approach the system. One out of every five women you meet has been abused or molested in some form or the other. The statistics do not support our society, the views shock, the cases only make them worse. The movement, the reaction, all add to the growing need for reforms. Not only the men, but also the women need to look at our approach to the basic freedom of a woman.

                 I wear shorts, I wear skirts, I drink, I smoke, but I also wear a saree, enjoy celebrating my festivals as much as I enjoy a night out dancing and I deserve my freedom, my life. 

I deserve me. 

Work place and people

               I have not been able to write in a pretty long time, work has been crazy and I have been lazy. But, I am back. I have been so preoccupied that I have just stopped thinking, being and functioning. Work seems to have taken over life, and I am not really allowed to blog about work. Yet, this one is about not my office but some quirks of office which we all have seen, at least I think we all have seen.
The lazy one: Okay, so I work at this over the top hyper organisation, where it is always go, go go! I guess everyone feels like this about their respective job, but mine is truly crazy (and I love it!). Yet, in the corners of each department there are these figures who you see, sipping at their coffee, laughing at some joke, messaging, tweeting, keeping their nails clean, fixing their make up or scratching their balls! Theses people have some basic characteristics:
They always come looking for work, once everything seems to have calmed own, and the work has been pushed out;
They always seem to have disappeared when you are short of hands and there is a dire need of people;
They always seem to slip the net at the time of trouble;
And most importantly they will always seem the most alert when there is a boss around!
These are the worst sort of colleague one can be stuck with, and I luckily don't fall in the direct contact with any of them. I think I would have reached my boiling point much before and like a lot of the unlucky souls would have become a more cynical person!
The silent worker: This is my favourite kind! The quiet one who does all that needs to be done and more. This type is the most reliable of them all. Someone who comes in to give their hundred percent. This is the most unfortunate breed of workers, because they are the backbone of the organisation, and sadly they are also the least appreciated of the lot! The basic way of recognising them is to look for the one who is the most quiet, whose work is usually finished before others, and whom the juniors turn to for advise, and the senior turn to with instructions! These have been the most helpful in my field, and unluckily I do not interact with them either. These are the type of co-workers that all us wish we had, to save our ass, if nothing else!


The gossip: This one everyone knows. Just follow the whispers, the shrill laughter or the snide looks and you have discovered the gossip. They are like an epidemic, you find them everywhere! The pantry, the computer, the smoking zone, the corridor, you never know when or where you might run into one. You might here gossip about people you don't like, but remember they will also talk about you! no one is too big for their zone of speciality, and if you ask me, they are not even worth it! keeping a safe distance is the only option here.

The obsessive one: They exist just to make you look bad. They are hard workers, but do not confuse them with the silent workers. Most of the silent workers work below the surface, and go unnoticed by most. These are hard workers, thy are amazing, but they are also too much. They have lost the line between work and obsession. The best way of recognising them is that the characteristic red eyes, an almost dead social life or the complete lack of one, the way they get enraged over the slightest mistake, and the fact that they are amazing at what they do. You want to be like them, but it is not only hard, it is impossible. The obsessive lives, eats and exists on the work. The friend circle is at work, the best times spent are at work and you know that when they are at it you will see wonders!

The support: This is the group that you adore. The ones you call and whine to at the end of the day, who you take your coffee breaks with. If you are having a bad day, a quick trip to the pantry with an amazing bitching session, a message, a bbm and you are set. The people who make you smile. The attachment that you develop is mostly based on similar viewpoints, and in my case, food! Also, this group is special in your group of friends, as they comprehend the complexities of your problem and they turn into some of your most trusted and adored friends!

IMPASSE: Beginning of a new day

                        Imagine walking into office, and the first words you encounter is IMPASSE. Now imagine, that this is after a week of indecision; a week of trying to decide whether you should or shouldn't, could or couldn't; of looking for a place to stay (as I happen to live in a city that is perpetually in a state of real estate crisis); and a week of no sleep, food or rest! Yes, for me it was a sign from the lord above! Seems like I am ranting, no? Well I am. But what I wanted to get as was, how much do signs matter?
                          Do you believe in signs? A book that almost everybody recommends tells us that there are signs around us at all times, telling us what is going to happen, and it is up to us if we want to read them or not. Whimsical no? Serendipity,a movie that is famous (whether it is a chick flick or not, is another matter), is made on the concept that the universe gives us signs.
                        If it were true then I just bury myself for the coming few months. All the signs around me have been the same. Everything is topsy turvy, nothing seems right. I have always been on the wrong side of the obvious and lately it seems to only have worsened? So is it a sign that I was destined for a mess from early on? Should I just give in to this state of perpetual confusion, where nothing is static and everything is subject to change?
                        Questions, questions, and no way of knowing the answer! I guess only time will be able to tell!!!!