Sunday, August 14, 2016

My thoughts on Ravinder Singh's new book, "This love that feels right", Open marriages and love outside marriage

This love that feels right, based on the concept, “you can control someone’s actions, not their mind”, is a thought provoking take on open marriages and emotional bonds outside marriage.

The book beautifully explores how an emotional void in a relationship can lead to a man or a woman seeking companionship outside marriage, and no, they are not wrong. At the end of the day, we are all human beings, and crave to be deeply understood, valued, and respected by our partner. But when these basic human needs are not satisfied, a man or a woman tends to become more vulnerable to share their innermost feelings with someone who understands, values and respects them. Emotional void is as good as suffocation, and who enjoys that?

Of course! Every marriage goes through its ups and downs. You cannot give up on someone you love, just because you had a fight/difference of opinion. Of course not. But what when someone takes the efforts to make things work, but their partner is still indifferent to them? What when the commitment to make it work, is just one-sided? And what when, despite all the efforts, you still feel suffocated in your marriage? What then?

The author nowhere encourages infidelity, but what he rightly encourages is to “break free” from relationships that do not make you happy; from people who do not make you feel loved & valued; bonds that do not make you feel understood; and eco systems that do not make you feel respected.

Another contemporary setup that Ravinder Singh explores is the rising open marriages and the social conditioning that patronizes them.

There is an un-ending debate going on about the basic nature of human beings in terms of being monogamous or polygamous. I personally feel that you cannot generalize.

But then, what can also not be discounted is the fact that monotony in intimate lives of married 
couples is a reality. Just that some people are comfortable with it, and some are not.
Ravinder Singh, with all due respect and grace, discusses the perspective of people who are not comfortable with the idea of monotony in their intimate lives.

Attraction to opposite sex is as natural as attraction to anything else we desire. We don’t always give into all our desires, but what when your attraction is so strong towards someone, that supressing it pervades each and every aspect of your life, including your marriage? And interestingly, although your attraction for someone is that strong, the person you love, is still your partner! You would never take the kind of efforts/make sacrifices that you make for your partner, for the person you are attracted to.

Your partner is still the one you want to come back home to, feel the sense of belonging to, wanting to have babies with and grow old with! The person you are attracted to, with all due respect, makes you feel wanting to explore your intimate side.

What would you do in such a situation? Would you let the suppression of your desires affect your marriage or would you go and discuss your dilemma with your partner?
And it is these situations that give rise to open marriages. And the world patronizes them! Why? Is wanting sex a crime? Open marriages are all about CONSENSUAL Intimate encounters, with your “partner’s knowledge”. Yet, a lot of us, look down on people who are either into them, or talk about them positively.

The book painfully points out how, we as a society, have made sex-something that is a natural human need-a make or break parameter to determine someone’s character.

It was high time that someone spoke about the so-called “taboo” topic, and Ravinder Singh has slayed it with this book. Congratulations Ravin!!!

Wednesday, July 20, 2016


Looking at her reflection, she relived him, in spite of the distance!

His words, loud and clear;
His passion, evident in his eyes;
His obsession, manifested in his grip!

"He" consumed her with all of it, and left the scars behind!

He, an abuser.
He, a wife-beater.
He, A misogynist.


Sunday, September 20, 2015

The Final Choice

To read the first part of this story, "Choice", Click Here

To read the second part of this story, "The second Choice!", Click Here

As she raised her head, she could see the mirror image of a vulnerable face and blood red eyes with tears flowing down the cheeks uncontrollably.

Six months ago, she had decided to break up with him, thereby ending the most special bond of her heart. In the span of these six months, there was not a single day, literally not even a single day, when he did not cross her mind. No matter how busy she was or how hectic her schedule was or how upset she was; he was always there, in the back of her head, and shutting her mind to other thoughts and focusing on him was like a bitter-sweet homecoming. Days were still easier to pass but the nights were difficult. There were times when she cried herself to sleep and there were times when his memories left her smiling. There were times when his thoughts were painful for her and there were times when they motivated her to keep moving forward. Some nights she spent, imagining spending them with him but some nights left her feeling uneasy.

Not that they shared bitter vibes. Even after six months of parting ways, they both knew that they could share possibly anything and everything under the sun with each other. Yet, things were not the same. She would no longer be able to smile at the innocent insecurity that used to engulf him when she wore “certain” kinds of outfits; and nor could she now command the right to playfully attempt to make him jealous. His arms would no longer be there to hold her and he would no longer tell her “I understand” when she hit her panic button. He would no longer tell her,”I don’t want you to date anyone else” and she would no longer draw happiness in honouring his words.

Nothing changed between them, yet everything did.

He wasn’t the first guy she loved. It was not certain if he would be the last either. But he would indeed be special for her, always. She had most of her first‘s with him and a lot of his first’s too were attributed to her. Although, in her past, she had been in a relationship-a step above dating-this was the first time, when to an extent, she had opened up her soul to someone. When someone had given her that space to discover a lot about her own self. It was with him that she discovered and experienced her desires. Co-incidentally, it was the same for him. He was the first guy to tell her with authority and conviction “to not date anyone else”, and she was the first girl he said this to. He played a crucial role in showing her what her passions were and where it was that her calling lay.

Of course she had been in love before too, but this was the first time she had lived it. And she had lived every bit of it! Happiness, pain, tears, smiles, joy, togetherness, separation, watch him falling out of love, and then in love with someone else, feeling happy for him, longing for him! She lived every bit of it, in every form.

That vulnerable face with blood shot eyes was not a reflection she usually saw. But once in a while, when it did appear, it indeed was difficult for her to handle herself. She fell to her knees on the bathroom floor and, she cried her heart out.

She then splashed water on her face, focusing her eyes and came out. She sat on her table and reflected on the sudden flush of emotions she was going through. That night, a part of her wanted to call him up and shout at him for no coherent reason, while another part of her, just wanted to be held and reassured that with time, everything would be fine. She knew well that love could not be forced, so she as well could not force herself out of it. That would only make things far more difficult for her. He is no longer a part of her life, he is gone and he is happy with someone else. No matter how painful it is, he is happy, and for the labour of love, she too has to ensure that in no way does she do anything that would be derogatory to the dignity of love. More so because, beneath this disturbed girl, lies the lady who loves him, loves him enough to respect his choices and rejoice in his happiness.

That night, she made another choice: To be her own anchor. She knew that she cannot depend on people to get her out of this. It was her life, her love, her decision to love him without being promised commitment and her decision to love him without expecting anything. Now was the time to stand by it. To ensure that the dignity of this love is held high. Precisely why she decided not to repress any of her feelings and took pride in who she was, what she thought and how she loved. Although that wasn’t rational and easily accepted by the societal norms, it was pure, unalloyed and intended no harm to anyone. And she made this conviction her harbor, for nothing, but the labour of love.

Labels: ,

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Don't Love Me!

Don't love me,
I am a broken star.
Don't love me,
I am an open scar

Don't love me,
I am a violent fire.
Don't love me,
I am a naked wire.

Don't love me,
I am the wordless sound.
Don't love me,
I am the burning wound.

Don't love me,
I may be hell to a man.
Don't love me,
I am a REAL woman.


Sunday, August 23, 2015

7 self-written personal favourite quotes!

Besides the posts that I write on this blog, Sometimes I also end up wriying some 1-2 liners on facebook or in my personal journal.

So, here is a list of my seven personal favourite quotes among them, in random oredr:

1. The day you kill the kid in you, you kill the spark in you.

2. And the pain that destroyed her, also gave her the most beautiful combination of words.

3. Behind every good girl gone bad, lies an untold story of a painful betrayal by a heartless Casanova.

4. You, yes you, are painfully attractive, sinfully appealing & soulfully special.

5. No love story is as strong as the one between an artist and his/her muse.

6. Constant hypocrisy destroyed her, in possibly the most sinfully beautiful way. And the world slammed her for being a Rebel!

7. In the name of sex, love or relationships, what we usually seek is that one person, who would destroy us completely, in possibly the most beautifully sinful manner.


Saturday, June 27, 2015

The Rebel

The world has a way,
And I do not fit in there.

They want me to be caged,
But I was born to fly

They want me to be sombre,
But I am a wild child.

They want to lock me in systems,
But I am a free spirit.

They want me to honour customs,
But I defy them outright.

They expect me to be submissive,
But I question every bit.

They expect me to obedient,
But I am a rebel. A proud one.

Labels: ,

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Of Buses and Trains!

This post is especially written for all the men who ask:
1. Why women need a separate compartment in local trains when they demand gender equality?
2. Why women have around 12 seats reserved in a bus (A lot of men ask it, especially in Mumbai, where about 12 seats are reserved for women in each bus.)?

And the gentlemen who understand the reasons for the above situations, I request you to kindly share this post so that it reaches every man who has the above mentioned questions.

August 2006, aged 15:
An afternoon, at around 11, I was going to my school. I was in Grade 10 then. On my way I met someone who I had known for a long time. He'd been a family friend and was hence in a "position of trust". Another reason why I could trust him was because he was at least 30 years elder to me. Even his children were older than me. So, when he offered to drop me to school in his car, I agreed. Back in those days, it was permissible to have tinted car windows. On our way to school, he stopped the car on a "not-so-busy-road", but it wasn't isolated either. He wanted to have a smoke. He was smoking and I was talking to him casually, like always. All of a sudden, out of the blue, something pressed my lips and blocked my vision. It was him. His lips on mine and his face in front of my eyes. I went numb. Nobody ever did that to me before. Even before I could realize, his hands entered the space between my shirt and the upper part of the V-neck maxi skirt of my uniform. He was looking at me intensely. I could feel his gaze on me, but I did not look back at him. He kissed me 2-3 times more and repeated the same gesture on the upper part of my body a couple of times and then started driving back towards my school. I asked him to drop me at the by-lane that goes to my school. I got down of his car and even before I knew, I had tears in my eyes. Nothing of that sort ever happened to me. I felt disgusted. I felt partly angry and partly guilty, for reasons unknown. I never shared this bit with anyone, except my best friend, Asmita. Once home, I locked myself in a room and cried myself to sleep. I was just too young to even comprehend what happened to me.

February 2008, Aged 17:
Dressed in jeans and a casual t-shirt, I was waiting for a male friend of mine at Santacruz station, as we had to pick another friend who was coming all the way from Delhi. As he was with me, we could not enter ladies compartment so we entered the general compartment in Mumbai Local on our way to Borivali. It was 9 am and peak hours. The rush was mad, so mad that you could not even move from the position you are standing in. Due to extreme rush, my friend could manage to find some space to stand at the door of the compartment after he safely moved me inside the compartment. In that rush, I suddenly started feeling a sharp pain in my breasts. I did not know what was happening. For a minute I thought its some medical emergency. A few minutes down the line, I realized that somebody was groping me, taking advantage of the crowd. A feeling of disgust engulfed me. I did not start crying, but my eyes were moist. My friend thought it was because of the rush and he kept assuring me that its just a matter of 2-3 more stations, but that did not help. And I did not understand how to tell him what was happening to me. I did not share this bit with him. As Borivali came, I felt a bit relieved, yet the horror of the journey was in my mind for days to come. After the incident that happened to me in Grade 10, I was so sure that public transport is always "safe" for a lady.

December 2011, Aged 20:
Happily dressed in my favorite salwaar-kameez with a dupatta, I was in a bus with my cousin brother and we were going to a "traditional" family function. We were sitting on "general" seats as he was accompanying me. After a few minutes of starting our journey, I could feel that the man sitting on the seat behind me, in the pretext of holding the sides of my seat for support, was trying to touch me inappropriately from the sides on the upper half of my body. I re-positioned my arms and that left no room for him to trouble me, or at least I thought so. However, a few minutes later, I could feel his fingers on the lower end of my neck, this time in the pretext of holding the upper handle of my seat for support.

The Buses and Trains:

I hope, it is now that all the men out there understand what all the gentlemen already knew. This is the reason why a lady, who demands gender equality, also asks for reservation in several means of public transportation. Because the moment she dares to travel with men, in general sections of public transport, she knows that she is not really "safe". And taking a lift in somebody's private vehicle is not a great option either. Not every lady has the luxury of a car. Even few have the luxury of a chauffeur, who again, cannot be trusted blindly.

I am not the only lady who went through this harassment. In what we call as the "safest" city in India, Mumbai, approximately 90% ladies who travel in public transportion means have had similar experiences. But as the saying goes, "It is easier to prove rape, but not harassment." Most of the cases thus go unreported.

At the point when I went through all this, even I did not report it, because I somewhere felt that I was the "only" one to whom it was happening. Deep down, I blamed myself. But now, as I realized that I was not wrong, I choose to speak about it and make an attempt to make men understand the problems that a lady faces while travelling.

As I started writing this post, I was confused if I should go ahead with it. If I should just say that all those experiences were not mine but instead, were those of my friends. But then a part of me was asking:
"Why am I being so apprehensive? What wrong did I do? Was going to school a fault? Is it wrong going to pick up a friend from a station? Should I have not gone out with my cousin?"
And finally, the rebel in me won. The one who believed that it WAS NOT MY FAULT and that as a lady, when I support reservation in public transport, I do it only to protect my body, and I have every right to do that.

While talking of feminism or gender equality, it is not really about being superior to men, its simply about being equal to them. Of course, there are some things that men are better at as compared to women, but then there are things vice-a-verse too. So ultimately, that is balanced.

One of the core arguments of gender equality is: "As a human being, we want to have the "same feeling of security and safety" as men." Simple as that. There is nothing wrong in it. And being an individual, every lady has the right to protect her body and ask for protective mechanisms when she sees a threat. And this is the simple reason why in spite of demanding gender equality, women ask for reservations in public transport. Now is that too difficult to understand?


Monday, November 17, 2014

The Rebel's Way!!!

The mystic poetry,
The broken glass,
The brittle iron
And the damaged vase

The wandering eyes,
The deep gaze,
The thorny rose
Lost in a maze

The clutter of silence,
The stillness of noise,
The smartness of ears,
And the dumbness of voice

The stagnant crowd,
The mad solitude,
The feeble might
Around impavid fortitude

The elegance of furor,
The poise in brawls,
The beauty of scars
And the love for flaws

Light in the night,
Darkness in the day,
Unconventionally conventional
Is a rebel's way!


Sunday, October 26, 2014

In pursuit of Dreams!

On October 19, 2014, I announced my debut Novella titled. "Because Love goes Beyond Togetherness" and the encouraging messages haven't stopped since then.

Because Love goes beyond togetherness is a collection of Short stories, articles and poetry describing the intricacies of Love, exploring various traditional human emotions and how they affect love and relationships in the 21st century! (some short stories, articles and poetry are from this blog and some written exclusively for the book)

Indeed, it is a dream come true. It was 7 years ago that i first dreamt of writing a book, and now, it is soon going to be a reality. And this journey of 7 years taught me an important lesson:

 "Dreams don't come true, you MAKE them come true"

I first dreamt of writing my own book in 2007. After a good wait of 7 years, I am about to turn this into reality.

So, what kept me waiting for so long? the answers to simple questions like, is my story good enough? Will people buy my book? Will I become a successful author? What if I fail? What if people laugh at me? and a lot more.....

And in the course of time, I realized that these questions don't really have a concrete answer. They are always going to be there. Even today, what I am writing is not conventional for a first time author, so I don't know if people will like my book. I don't know if my book will sell. I don't know how good/bad my writing will be and I don't know if I will ever be a successful author.

But I do know that inspite of so many ifs and buts, in past 7 years, writing never left my mind. I do know that even today, writing is what that liberates me. And I have finally come to a realization that this is what my calling is and this is what my passion is. This is what that gives me satisfaction, and hence, in spite of all the ifs and buts, it deserves a chance. So, here I am, armed with a little courage, lots of hope and immense belief in the beauty of my dreams, taking baby steps towards it, because dreams don't dome true, you make them come true!

To catch all the updates on my debut novella, "Because Love Goes Beyond Togetherness", kindly Click here and join me on my official Facebook author page.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The cost of being a free bird!

And the child was born! A girl.
Attempts were made to keep her in the well that was considered to be the "ideal" place to raise an "ideal" Indian woman/daughter.
The well! It was a deep, dark well where right from a tender age, she was subjected to various degrees and types of gender discrimination; where the guardians of culture made every effort to program her mind and make her believe that "silent suffering is a matter of pride" and that being a women, it is her duty to protect the honour of her people even at the cost of her own honour and chastity! She was programmed to have no self-esteem, to believe that existence of men is a favors on her and that she is unwanted and worthless.
Worst of all, the "well" forced her to be a witness of horrific crimes of violence and abuse in her formative years and then, the guardians expected her to silently accept it all as an integral part of her future; because apparently, that is what that makes a good women!

Many young girls in that "well" gave in. Some agreed to suffer silently, but without having any conviction in what they were being made to believe. And then, there was she, the difficult one. The rebel!

The one who knew that she deserved much better a life. She had realized the fact that the purpose of her life is much more deeper and meaningful than "silently suffering" for the sake of "hollow honour."

The rebel chooses to not let her life be a victim of fate and chances. She decided that when all were trying to pull her deeper and deeper in that "well", she has to make efforts to move up. But the climbing up wasn't easy. Each time she made efforts to liberate herself, all the hands in the "well" ensure that they unite to pull her down. Yet with her determination and inner strength, she somehow managed to rise above the level of the guardians there. But people were still making attempts to pull her down by firmly holding her legs, so that she doesn't leave the "well" in order to "fly"!

Because flying was meant only for men.

Years of social battle had left her with little strength remaining yet she had somehow reached the brink of the "well" with the guardians still holding some part of her, with the hope that they'll be able to pull her back. All that she now needed was a "little" external pull from the outside of the well. Just a "slight, little pull."

The "well" was not located in isolation. It was placed well in the center of the society. Millions of people walk past it daily and hardly any of them was unaware of the plight of women in that "well". Many even saw this young lady struggling at the brink of the "well" to break free from it, but no one bothered to help, because many of them were themselves convicted that it was the right place for women. Some did pity her, but lacked the courage to express their opinions and rescue her.

And then, one fine day, there came her knight in the shining armor. He was above this societal circus. He saw from distance this beautiful lady struggling at the brink of the "well", not to do any harm, but just to live her life, in her way, on her own terms.

Admired by her courage, inspired by her determination and mesmerized by the beauty of her soul, which was reflected in her picture perfect outer appearance as a woman, he came close to the well and offered her the much needed "slight little pull."

Just as he started pulling her, he could see her beyond the picture perfect outer appearance. He could see the real her. The real her; which was beautiful but had shades of brown and marks in red. Astonished, he left her hand. He wasn't expecting this from someone who looked so beautiful from a distance.

The shades of brown, that he considered dirt, were symbolic of her intense struggle and courage to come out of the circus of mentally sick people who promoted chaining a woman, in the name of culture.

The red marks were the scars of all the bruises inflicted upon her, over the years, in the form of physical, mental, emotional and at times even sexual abuse. That too from a very tender age, just for being a girl. The scars were symbolic of her battle with several years of insult, abuse and belittling. They deserved to heal.

But instead of helping her heal those scars and bringing her out of that darkness, he left her side at the first sight of her struggle. All she could do was just keep looking at him going, leaving her body mind and soul hurt and bruised, even more than before.

Fear, irritation, restlessness, pain, anger, anguish, self-pity, frustration etc are just some of the feelings that engulfed her. She went through a miserable phase of complete numbness and stagnancy. A loss in the ability to trust people. In some moments, she even contemplated giving in to the societal norms. But that wasn't her nature.

After a phase of complete stagnancy and deep darkness, light emerged in her soul. She mustered all her remaining inner strength and courage and decided to move. Even if it meant, moving just a millimeter, she just had to move and she had to keep moving, no matter how little. And finally, with determination, she once again started to try to move, in order to finally "break-free". Something, she knows she will do.

Because she deserves it.