That Woman Inside Of Me

By Aradhna Mangla

Traditionally, women have been expected to be care-givers, home-makers and a source of happiness and comfort around the house. When young, they’re brought up in shades of pink, given dance lessons, taught how to sing, sew and cook. Along with it, they’re expected to study as hard as they can so that they can get to the best educational institutions in the world. By the time they’re 13, they’re supposed to bid their childhood male friends goodbye, sit properly with their legs crossed, modulate their voices, be mindful of what they think of their clothes and attitude. Get to college, and a few years of living free give you the taste of what life can also be. A few years working. But you hit 25 and you get married off. You’re expected to have kids as soon as possible, then raise them in the proper way, be the glue between families, be the trophy wife.
 

I only have one question.
 

Where did all those dreams go? Did you run out of time? Or did you just dismiss them as the innocence of youth and make friends with what came your way?
Are women ever in control of their lives? First there are parents, and then the husband comes along. It’s a show in which the puppeteer keeps changing while the puppet looks on.
I would blame it all on society. Most men only repeat what they have seen happening in their homes. Moms are expected to wash your clothes, give you food etc. etc. When her time is up, it’s your wife who does it.
 

If that wasn’t enough, Society frowns upon women who don’t marry.  Brands them as deficient or worse, immoral. Sees every male you go out with as a lover. Censors your thoughts, your words, and your clothes.
 

WHY should women conform to these traditional roles? Shouldn’t men have to be equally responsible for the welfare of children? For making the morning tea?
 

Yes, there is a small minority of enlightened men who don’t subjugate women to this modern form of bonded labor. But by and large, the Indian male thinks pretty much in the same way.
 

Why is it that women cannot go solo. That they ‘need’ men. Tell me why. If she needs a man for all the hardware work around the house, there are power-tools and other labour saving devices available in the market to help her. For having kids? Isn’t it her personal choice? She can adopt or opt for sperm banks. If she needs a man for security, then well, we live in a very sad state where a woman cannot be safe in the first place!
 

I’m not against companionship. Of course it’s lovely to have a witness to your life. But why live life like the hours are running out? To jump from one level to another, like a game of Icy Tower.

Who doesn’t want to live free? With no sword of “marriage by 25” looming over her head? Travel the world? Do those things you read about, or saw in the movies? After all, why did you study so much or get a job? To update your resume? To be more in demand in the marriage market?

Maybe some female readers will agree with me on what I say. Some women don’t even think this way. Some of them have got their marriages planned in their heads since they were 6.
 

The woman inside of me, she’s stopped asking me why I don’t listen to her. Why I don’t let go. Why I must be careful about what society thinks of me. Why I need a man by my side.
 

For me, rebellion would be to let go. To be the woman I really am. To not live like a shadow of who I am. To be in control of my life. To not having to bow down to the right time-frames for doing things. To simply be.

****************************************************

I’m sitting in the women’s coach of the metro as I type this. And the lady sitting next to me couldn’t help but read this article. She agrees with me and we had a very lively discussion on what we would do if we didn’t have to be all this :) So hopefully I’m on the right track with this.

---

The Vegetable Conspiracy

By Aradhna Mangla

How many times have you shared a meal with a person who picks out cauliflowers and tomatoes from his meal in front of you? It’s something that almost all of us did (except for the aagyakari ones among us!) Be truthful. Don’t  you still do it?

As children, we've all been lectured enough times on how French beans clean up your liver and extend your life and that if you eat your pulses, you'll be spared the wrath of (the inevitable) teenage acne. But we don’t listen, because well, some vegetables just don’t sit right on the tongue!

I would like to substantiate my claim by talking the commonest vegetables (Ironically, both are NOT vegetables, technically!) - The potato and the tomato.

The potato is the biggest starch-bomb if there ever was. You can boil them, fry them or extrude them into shapes. They just taste the same mostly. They're nothing without the spices! The tomato too, is like the biggest escape artist. Ever seen those murder mysteries where the criminal leaves behind his clothes when he changes guises and later the police find them? That’s how I feel about tomatoes. All I ever find are the skins.

When we were kids, we were forced fed all these vegetables, never mind the disgusting wreck they turned our mouths into. Let’s take a moment of silence to honour all those taste buds that died.

Who forced-fed us veggies?

The adults did.

The biggest lie our parents ever told us (and I'm not even starting on the one on where babies come from!) is that vegetables are our friends.  There even used to be dancing cartoons on them on television, all in harmony with the dancing glass of milk and huge white eggs, all forcing "eat a balanced diet" wisdom down your throat.

But I'd like to ask, if vegetables are our friends, why do we eat them?

The answer: I remember an episode from Powerpuff Girls that I saw when I was a kid. It was on these weird broccoli aliens that wanted to control the world and the only way to beat them was to eat them. Maybe that’s the reason why I eat them. Why do you?

Coming back to people who are picky-eaters, rest assured. You're not doing anything wrong. I mean, even vegetables have feelings! They too were once alive. (Until someone decided to pressure-cook their asses off.)

Food is like music. You either like something or not. One must have the freedom to choose not to eat bitter gourds or any other abomination of nature.

There’s no sin in picking to please one's palate.

 

*********************************************************************************************************************

Disclaimer: The author is a foodie and eats almost everything. Do not take advice from the above article without the recommendation of a registered medical practitioner or your mom.

Happy Anti - Valentines Day

By Aradhna Mangla

I HATE Valentine's Day too. I have, as rule NEVER been Valentined, nor do I intend to in the near future. Yes you can call me a Valentine-Virgin. (I speak from my limited experience, do forgive me for my gaucheness at times.)

Photo credit - Vishakha Jindal

A few points say it all.

• I belong to the school of thought that you don't need a special made to order day to carve out some time for your essential half. And in case you are one of them,you already are in love with your PDA.


• Hello! Roses die! Roses that cost 15 on the roadside and 30-40 at Ferns&Petals,Cost Rs 2-3 a piece on normal days.
  
  So instead of gifting the love of your life a rose on an ordinary day (and she will be "exquisitely delighted" at it,believe you me!) you're gifting her the same thing, prettily packaged at which she must burst into paroxysms of happiness and mock surprise.
  Artificial pricing, Artificial emotions.True love? 

• Take a look at Archies or Hallmark.I don't think a Dust-Collector (Read : Teddy Bears) is what she had on her mind. Instead try listening to her for a change. You can't just stencil your love, bottle it up and sell it by the pound!
  
  Its an arcane and esoteric emotion.Also she's just gonna recycle your impersonal gift next Valentine's (Which is true if she has dumped you)!

• I love mum and dad.But i don't need a special day to show it to them.Neither should you. 

• I believe in Karma.Take a day off,use this supposed "National Holiday" to go teach underprivileged kids. You're gonna bond so well. I know it. 

• Peer Pressure

The size of a girl's gift says it all. And all the aunties keep waiting for their MB romances.

Sorry to break your happy bubble, but (and i quote) NO guy is ever gonna whisk you off to Madrid or go scuba diving with you in real life,or own Villas in Tuscany for that matter.

Love who you have with all your heart.

For now, its his parents money. 

To conclude,(As the language of money is something that everybody understands),

Currency is derived from the word current, which means to flow.

Similarly 

Love,the currency of our Hearts, must circulate, 

or else it starts to stagnate and diminish.

It should be given and gained freely.

Not measured out and doled to the worthy.

I guess I'm not missing out at all..

At least the love I have is true.

---

Despicable Me

By Aradhna Mangla

No, this is not the review of the movie by this name. Its about the person you see in the mirror everyday. The person that you have learnt to hate. That person is one who you've chosen to starve, to cut up and stitch, to push into body - shapers, to inflict pain upon, just to look good.

Have you ever thought why? Yes, I know its because you want to look like a certain someone and God didn't make you that way, sadly. But still. Why? Why would you want to be a clone of a person, when its that bump on the nose that sets you apart?

This is not self-help, but maybe it'll point you in the right way if you, like many of us, don't love your body.

Photo credit - Anoop Nagendra

People who look down upon others, for having a tummy roll or hairy arms, why do they forget that they too have been made the same way. They just alter their appearance to conform. Why else is the beauty services industry booming? Come recession, do we cancel our monthly trip to the parlor?

I'm not asking you to boycott anything feminine. In fact its great to reach a healthy weight, and we've got clothes to make up for the rest! There has to be a limit to number of things you can do to your body. Its better to be healthy than thin and we all know that. (In fact, what guy wouldn't like having something to hold onto, that doesn't poke him! :P)

If you think that vanity is just a concept limited to females, think again! Male vanity is as great as a woman's, if not greater! Guys too spend enough on protein supplements, gyms, salons (for the metrosexuals!), clothes and cars. If they can't wear it, they'll own it.

This year, make a resolution to learn to love yourself. Both mentally and physically. Stop fretting about that mole on your cheek, chiding yourself for being on the heavier side or for not being muscular!. Why, in those wasted moments, you could've thought of something better! At the end of your life, would you regret not having lost "those" ten kilos? Or would you regret not having done something adventurous ? Would you go through life hating that person in the mirror? Or will you embrace him?

Really, its your pick.

---

Tell us what you think? Is it sensible to go such extremes for the sake of appearances? If not, then why do we engage in it? If yes, then why? Please leave your opinions in the comments.

Playgrounds and Little People

By Aradhna Mangla

Children aren’t just kids. They’re Little People. They sense more than you think they will and are a lot like monkeys, who imitate and learn. They grow into Older People, who are not very different from their younger selves. 

Photo credit - Prasanth Akki

Playgrounds for children too are just a simplified version of the world an adult would see. In fact, many psychologists first observe children at play in order to understand adult behavior.

However, children are a lot like wet clay, that could be shaped into anything over time. The sand pit and the swings give away a lot about a person, however, a lot is left to be guessed.

Yes, many traits usually manifest themselves in early childhood. But people’s natures are subject to change, and many a times, our childhood friends grow up to be very different from what we expected them to be.

By observing a child at the playgorund, you can tell whether a person plays fair or not, whether he’ll pitch in when the group must pay for breaking someone’s window, or if he’ll back the group in a fight.

But it is also said that children are like sponges. They absorb much, but hold little. 

Children are blessed with the power of forgetting and many of their traits will not survive to adulthood. Its hard to say then, how a person may turn out to be. Becoming an adult corrupts the mind with many things. “Reason” and “Logic” teach you that its not good to wear your heart on your sleeve or to be honest all the time. You learn that marks don’t mean numbers, they mean money.

Some things do survive, like scars and their stories, serving as a markers on our journey towards adulthood. 

Little people must assimilate years of experience in order to become Older people, with each birthday marking a year more until they can change from one playground to another. The bigger the better.

The Things That Mystified Us As Children

By Aradhna Mangla

When I was a child, I would never tire of asking questions. But I would just not stop when I would be in the car.

Looking out from the rear of the car, with feet dangling off the backseat, I would torpedo my parents with endless jabber, and being the nice parents they are, they would tirelessly humor me. (I’m lucky I did not get given away to an orphanage really!)

Sundar Photography

A lot of stuff held wonder for me as a child and I’m sure many of you will agree too.I grew up in an age where we didn’t have personal phones, personal computers came in late and ipods were rare. And actually, we didnt care!School and then the playground (And the dreaded homework!) - This occupied our days. But we would never be too tired to question things. Even when our parents forbade us from doing something, the first thing that would come out from our mouths would be a big, fat WHY! I have always loved cooking, and when I was a midget, I would try to peer into the pots on the stove or try to stir them. I was always dumbfounded by cakes, I couldn’t understand how a liquid-y white mass could become a glorious, spongey cake! Now, of course, I know the scientific reasons behind them, but as a child, it was nothing short of magic for me! Cars too posed aother enigma. Having watched Flintstones, I would always presume that it was my Dad who padded on the road and made the car move. Imagine my confusion when I saw that there were no holes on the floor to do so!

But these questions are born of lack of knowledge. And as one question was answered, another would spring in its place! The mind is so much like a muscle. Albeit one, that we train too little. (I’ve read this somewhere!) Why is it that very few things surprise us anymore? A person jumping through a ring of fire hardly elicits the same response from us as it does from a child. If we started to collect shiny rocks as chidren do, we would be called silly. We would say that we know the mechanics/physics/logic/arguments etc behind things. Has growing up, diminished our capacity to gaze in wonder? I guess thats one question we can’t answer in riddles.

Be Brave, Take Risks. Teach For India

By Aradhna Mangla

___Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute experience.___

Placement week is on at college, and we're all struggling to find the right fit of formal trousers and the correct way to write a CV.
When we were young, we always said that "When I grow up, I'll be this and this and all of this!"  


It seems that that time has come.

We have to choose what we want to be.The Teach for India Fellowship is taking applications and it conducted an interactive information session at our college today. All they asked for us to do, was to SPREAD the word to just 5 people we know.
I'm gonna make use of my capacity as a writer to do so.

Ms. Apoorva Murari of Teach for India (You can reach her at apoorva.murari@teachforindia.org) explained a lot about Educational Inequity in India, a phrase that sounds bombastic, until you take in the sad meaning of it.

We, the college-going, Facebook-ing, BBM-ing (and sometimes studying :D) youth of today, are a part of merely 6% of India's population that is as educated as we are.

94% of people, never enter college.

The government does have special programs in place, to increase school enrollment and to retain children in the educational system.

However, one can't ignore the numbers. (These numbers were provided by the HRD Ministry itself!)

Somewhere, somehow its all falling short.

The reasons are many.

Don't you remember what it was like to be a kid?
We hated homework.
We hated cursive writing.
We loved it when teachers let us play games.
We loved it when we could come to school and do something fun!

The kids that this movement targets, are underprivileged. Not broken.
They just haven't been given the right guidance, the right skill set.

To take an example, where would you be if you didn't know English?

You wouldn't be able to read this article for one.
Neither would you be able to sit for an interview.
Along with many other drawbacks, another person wouldn't call you literate.

These kids study in schools with no libraries, or air conditioning.But what hurts the most is that they study in schools with "non-existent" teachers.

I say "Non-existent" because even though some of them are present in the classroom, they do not "Teach".
Their responsibilities end at coming to class and repeating the spiel they have taught for so long.

Isn't this what makes education boring?

Don't we hate the endless cramming of words that make no sense to us?

Imagine why a child of 6 might want to drop out of school then.

You kill imagination, and you kill the child.

By being a Fellow here, you are in charge of not only teaching the child the required curriculum, but also of shaping the child to understand "why" he needs to continue on the path shown to him.

When you show a person a glimpse of what can be, it registers somewhere in their consciousness.

The Program has a 2 year lock-in. Its a full-time commitment, that can't be taken lightly. It provides a decent stipend of 16000 per month, along with a house-rent allowance.

Most of the fellows have had 8 figure salaries, cushy jobs etc etc. Many of them have been just graduates.
Many of them had no reason to apply here.
Be brave, take risks. Nothing can substitute this experience.

A lot many people see the inequity as a PROBLEM, of which they strive to find a SOLUTION.
You too can aid in the effort.

320 million children are waiting for you.

---

The Metro Traveller's Survival Kit

By Aradhna Mangla

Note : This article is actually being written as I'm travelling in the metro. AND fuck the rules that forbid playing of music in the train. There's a crazy lady playing Amplifier AMPLIFIED on her samsung corby.

So after weaving through Delhi's never ending traffic, you're actually aboard something that looks right out of the space age in stark contrast with the crumbling buildings of Delhi.

*Delhi metro me aapka swagat hai.*

You must be travelling standing up, holding on to the flimsy hand rails(?) and swinging like a monkey on dope.

But fear not, you may arrive at your chosen destination with more than a few ruffled feathers, but you shall reach it, albeit a little late and a little frustrated.

Its still safer than most alternatives like buses and ricks (for obvious reasons). And it makes travelling very easy (if you call it travelling- I call it being cattle-carted) from many a place. Also the AC is a big boon in the long months of summer, when your skin goes through more water than your kidneys combined.

The Metro is good, with a few flaws, but major benefits too. It offers me the independence of travelling wherever I want AND its cheap. It doesn't involve bargaining with auto-vallahs and I think the highest fare is 30 or 35 bucks.

However, its one more passenger shy of turning into NDLS. Soon people will "bichao" newspapers and snooze there if authorities aren't more watchful.

Thus I shall do my duty as an Indian citizen and present you with what I call
"The Metro Travellers Survival kit"

*Rule no 1 : *

Always carry Headphones. Music shall help you blot out--???? Needless conversation, fend off stares, and mad people on cheaper-by-the-minute phone tariffs.
 

Its already becoming an Indian RAILWAYS platform. All you need is chaps screaming 'Chaiiiii lelo!"

*Rule no 2 : *

If you're standing and really wanna sit, you can either get to sit at Rajiv Chowk or Kashmere Gate (Why the hell is it called Kashmere gate anyways?) Otherwise give up hope.

*Rule no 3 : *

Escape from the place where screaming children abound. And people have private conversations publicly. Get a netbook and type it all out. Let the frustration go. Or else you''ll become a mad axe murderer. Like I am about to, as soon as I finish this article.

*Rule no 4 : *
 
Always sit on the assigned seat. You'll look like an ass when an elderly citizen makes you stand up for the special seat.

NOTE : *Please offer the seat to people who need it more than you do.*

*Rule no 5 : *

Keep your smart card topped up with atleast a few hundreds. You never know when you'll run out of balance at a people-unfriendly metro and be stuck in a line for tokens for ages.

*Rule no 6 : *

Always leave early.

The metro's pretty old now, yet its as glitchy as a beta tester version of some cheapskate app.

Sometimes, they'll stop you in a tunnel and when you start wondering if this is gonna turn into a scene from a Holly-scare movie, they greet you with a cryptic "Asuvidha ke liye khed hai" mumbo jumbo.

Still.
I'm thankful for the universally accepted lateness of metros. That excuse has worked endless number of times in the past :D

*Rule no 7 : *

Take micro-naps.

While you're sitting only.
Twin benefits with this one.
You arrive at work fresh! AND the "Panda" look is gone.

*Rule no 8 : *

Carry sustenance with you.

No. I dont mean Kabab rolls and marshmallows and coke and fizz and crap.

I mean dainty stuff like a polo or two. To keep your blood glucose high. Or else the clouds of depression shall soak you my friend.

(Oh yay! Those kids on crack are gone!!!! XD)

*Rule no 9 : *

Travel light.

Again, refer to the Indian Railways comment. ALSO, If you are travelling with heavy luggage, try to stow it under the seats. Its there for a purpose, so that unwary passengers don't trip over it! Or worse, get flattened under it.

*Rule no 10 : *

Odds are, your face is gonna be crushed against someone's sweaty armpit. And someone's gonna use your clothes as a wiping rag.

Don't wear white.
And wear strong perfume. Chances are, somebody won't be. And you shall meet him soon. At close quarters.

So maybe that perfume-cloud will offer a barrier. Maybe.
_____________________________________________________________________________
 
Had enough?
 
My stop is next.
 
I must get ready to battle the crazy ladies, who want to get inside the coach, without letting the passegers inside alight first.

The Metro's a great alternative to Buses or Autos, especially due to the unsafe streets. You never know when, what can happen here.

It does need an upgrade(Designers of India- Are you listening?), along with someone beating sense into Delhi-ites on the Metro do's and don't.

Yes, there are people who use it properly, but there are people who carry out their most intimate bally-hoo in the vast confines of the coach. Or pick fights. Or act like mad cows.

That needs to change, along with the ritual staring at "firangs" and eye-balling well dressed people.

God, I've almost reached the station and I'm doing this!
Stay tuned for more Woolly ramblings and Netbook-induced tap-tappings :)

HINT: Food post - Coming Soon!

Bye guys!

Write Monkey

By Aradhna Mangla

A GREAT WRITING APP FOR YOU.

Whenever I write, I always like to start on a fresh page and in a clutter free environment. Somehow, given the multitude of thoughts crossing through my brain, I tend to lose focus and then I'm stuck traveling in reverse, trying to go back to the last thread of thought.

Microsoft Word is too bulky an app in my world. I don't need text editing mid-flow. Maybe a few bullets and all, but if you know a few keyboard shortcuts, using these will be a charm!

If you, like me suffer from the same "Lost-in-space' Syndrome, then don't be a worry-wart! ;D Check this App out, and I'm sure you'll love it!

It’s called WriteMonkey. Whenever I think of it, dancing monkeys come to mind! I'll list down the Pros and Cons of this. By the way, this post too was written on it!

Pros

• It’s a free app, skinny weight wise.
• The interface is great, it starts with witty quotes that make me smile all the time.
• Just keep typing whatever comes to your mind and it won't interrupt you.
• Neither will it ask you to continuously try to revise "fragments" nor will it highlight colloquialisms.
• When you're done, hit Esc and you can save it as a .txt (Text) file.
• A No frills, non-messy writing app for you.
• It’s also portable, just put WriteMonkey (installation) on USB and use it on any Windows computer.

Cons:

• People with limited keyboard shortcut knowledge (Read : Keyboard noobs) shall find it hard to deal with.
• A short summary of these on the welcome page would have helped.
• Also a few times it crashed on me! Since then I've fallen into the habit of Ctrl+S every few sentences.

However there are so many features to it and its better if you read them here
 

On the whole, I love it and can't write without it =)

Lets hope you like it too.

You can get it here.

---

Love, Aajkal

By Aradhna Mangla

All statements that seem true, must be questioned.

The statement in mind being : Relationships are one long holiday.


No, its not a review of Pyaar ka Punchnama. But a sanshipt varnan of Love, Aajkal.


I shall now take you through the various stages of being in one, my confused friend.
---------------------------------------

Stage One : The Daily Spiel.


This is the time when your phone bills shoot up like crazy.

This phase consists of innumerable "No you hang up"s, endless hours of "Koochie koos" and basically stuff I throw away as junk mail.


What people do: CUE : "You fill up my senses, like a night in the forest" Even if she looks like a cow, you'll think that the light of the world shines through her irises.

If you are a girl, then you'll say that his body odour smells like the Honey dipped roses and chocolate.

(P.S. A man's body odour is Body Odour. Maybe you should only appreciate his aftershave.)


What you should be doing : TERMINATE TERMINATE TERMINATE NOW!

Stage 2 : Lets play KBC! YAY!
This is the bonus round dude.
Its called 'Lets put a name on our relationship' stage!
After all "I need to know humare beech me rishta kya hai"
What will you cry to your friends about?


You gotta take the next step and make 'kasme and vaade'.
Why? Because :


a) You've already invested a lot of time wooing the person.
b) Ditto for money.
c) You get to change your facebook relationship status.


If you succeed in naming it, the girl or the guy becomes an addition to your ever growing list of ex-es later.


However IF you don't, you my dear friend (shame on you) have been taken for a ride aboard the Willy Wonka express.



Stage 3 : The Last Chance.


If you still haven't heard that little voice in your head, I admire your valiant disillusionment.


My dear friend, you are falling into a deep crevice and the only way to save you is to blast dynamite in the hole.
In the process you shall lose an arm or two. Sorry.


You're probably beginning to realise that the foot and mouth disease that your puzzled GP found you to be having, has probably been transmitted to you by your signinficant other.


Good luck with that.


Your supply of gifts dwindles, whithers and dies.
Yet your phone bills are an insurmountable hill that just keeps getting higher and higher.


The Other starts exerting influence on your life(becoming your solicitous mother/father).


Leave this na my gummy vodka bear!
Aww princess, go to sleep!

Pleaseeee Meri KASAM!


These periods of madness start getting punctuated with Moments of Clarity (MOC).
You think : "WHAT the HELL am I doing koochie kooing at 4 am in the night!?!?
Oh hell. Concentrate."

Get away. Fast.

Spin this : "It was so nice spending these moments with you. I shall cherish you like a favourite pair of chappals. But I cannot keep you from meeting someone awesomer than me. Someone you truly deserve. Boohoohoo. Blow nose."



---------------------------------------

As with everything, there is a Honeymoon period. When all differences seem non existent. You're ready to do anything and everything. Stars and moons? Forget it. You're ready to delete your porn collection for your love.

It's that kick in the butt during this period that helps emancipates you.
---------------------------------------



Stage 4: The post "I have said I love you like a billion gazillion times" Stage.


You know the Other looks like a cow, you'll still call him pretty. (A pretty cow that is)

Mainly because you made the mistake of calling the Other pretty in the first place.

Your facial muscles are sore from repeating the same words again and again like a drill exercise.


Your attention starts wandering. You start noticing that your room-mate looks real nice sleeping with his mouth open. And he has a pretty girlfriend too.


Hell. All the Others of this world are pretty. Where were they till now!?!?


You find reasons to avoid the person. Like the Plague.



Stage 5 : The Refractory Period.


Its over.
Your body is re-adjusting to the normal patterns of sleep.
Your facial muscles are twitching with happiness.


You feel an emptiness in your life, PURELY because you realize that the last time you picked up a book was probably to swat down a fly.


However, to cope with the mental trauma, your Self splits into two.
The Self number One thinks its still in a relationship and drunk dials, begs, cries, pleads to continue the madness.


You need to be dunked into icy water to revive yourself.


The Self number Two goes on a rebound. A self destructive path that lets people put a landmine in your heart and explode it. Boom.


You need to be Whipped mercilessly to get out of this stage.


As time passes, your body starts craving the same high as before.
You start noticing the potential Others in everybody.


You've learnt nothing.
You're back to square one my friend.


-------------------------------------------------------------------
DISCLAIMER: The views expressed are just for fun. Any references to anybody/anything is purely coincidental. Please read the article in the same funny vein as its written. The Author is NOT an angst teenager. She does believe in love and all the shebang. The real form of it.

Order In Chaos

By Aradhna Mangla


*Chaos too, is Ordered.*

His life was an endless cacophony.
Mystified by the world around him, he'd sunk into a place inside of him.

People pushed him around. Cursed and hit him. As if he was here by choice.

Sometimes a kindly soul bought something from him - something 

that he probably didn't need and threw away later.

Times were tough. His daring dreams of yesteryear 

had faded into nothingness a long time ago.

Yet he'd stuck to his place at the red-light.

He'd seen many things happen at this crossing.

Careless children getting run over.
Cows blocking the road.
A superstar's movie being shot.

Yet today, something struck his old heart that always kept up with him
in erratic beats.

A bird had made a nest on the signal pole. A chick had fallen down
from it. And a little girl was trying to trying to cross the road to
rescue the fledgling.

Nobody stopped. Nobody paid heed to the attempts of the little girl
trying to cross the road.

But you could see the determination in her face, screwed up in concentration.

Child of the wild.
Wild-Child.

But the cars wouldn't stop.
Lost in the chaos of rush hour traffic, why would people care
about something as trivial as this?

The chick hadn't learnt to fly.
And it tried to crawl hither and tither.
The little girl now had tears in her eyes. She was consumed by 

the will to run across the road. She did not see what was coming.

But He had and he'd made his decision.
He got up from his place.
And ran to stop the little girl.
....................................................

Actually he did more than that.
His death caused an hour-long jam at the red light.

Sufficient time for the little bird to be rescued.
A sepulchral decoy.

Who said Chaos cannot be ordered?

Nirvana In A Tea-Cup

By Aradhna Mangla

It wakes us up in the morning.
It's the cubicle dweller's sustenance.
It ranges from a burnt brown to milky orange.
Its something that was worn in small pouches by the first people to sail across the world.
Its what Britain paid China in opium for.

Its Tea for the urban sophisticate.
Or just "Chai" in the chalti bhasha.

Its an addiction of sorts. My body starts craving it after regular intervals. ( I need my daily fix :P )

However its also similar to sleep - "the balm of hurt minds."
Nursing a hot cuppa and brooding is sometimes the best hug you can give yourself.

I'm gonna share a recipe with you.

I like it black. It gives my system the kind of hit I want.
Its an esoteric blend of earth and warmth, of the sharpness of tea and the mellowness of honey.

I call it "Nirvana in a Tea-cup"

Things you need :

1 tsp of Tea leaves.
1 cup (150 ml) of Water.
1 tsp of Honey.
A few sprinkles of Rose petals.What you do now :

- Dunk the tea leaves into a pan of boiling water till the  desired color is achieved.
- The longer the tea stays in it, the stronger the tea will be.
- Add the rose petals.
- Strain it into your favourite mug, add honey, stir it up and enjoy!
strikeout(snuggle into your favourite pajamas, curl up and watch re-runs of F.R.I.E.N.D.S)

Complex flavors, don't you think so?
You must be saying to yourself,"She's putting roses into her tea! Eww!"

But believe you me, try it to believe it.
Soon its gonna become your little excuse to escape from the world. :)

Disclaimer: The author does not endorse substance abuse in any form whatsoever. However she is confused whether Bhang and chocolate come under this category. (Just kidding)

---