Avenging Expectations

Dated: 07.08.2013

I know that you expect

Songs of vengeance and fire

Clinging complaints of neglect

But, my love, I am tired..

.

I know you still expect

Accusations of cruelty

But pleading for attention

Has never been my specialty

.

I could clutch at your hand

and keep asking you why

I could say I still cared

And I could try and cry

.

But, baby, if you want me gone,

Well then, tell me, who am I?

Who am I to ask to stay?

Baby, who am I to ask why?

.

And I could chase some fantasy

And hope that half of it comes true

Or maybe find the man of my dreams

Except on nights I dream of you

.

And in the midst of all your fire

I crave only to burn

Like a torch to some inner darkness

That only I have earned

.

And I would make my way to you

Come rain-storms or hell-fire

Not for empty words

Only all my form desires

.

And if you asked me to leave

I would pack my bags and go

Live out forgotten fantasies

Hidden behind some nameless door

.

Maybe I’d even forget

The sound of your voice

Pretend that when I was leaving

You gave me no choice

.

And maybe I’d forget you too

Though I hope it isn’t so

Or cry into rainy nights

While he holds my body close

.

And I cannot help but wonder

Whether his skin, too, would be smooth as ice

And I can’t help but wonder

If any other fire would ever suffice.

.

You owe me nothing

And I owe nothing to you

And in this nothingness what we choose to give

Is all that must be true

.

So if lessons and space are what I’ve earned

Tell me, of what shall I complain?

When I would give you my immortality

What price is mortal pain?

A Conversation on Chivalry

Opening Speaker: Chivalry is over rated and convenient.

Participant 1: For whom is it convenient? Chivalry is a choice. The choice to do the right things, for the right reasons, at the right times. If not, then it’s not chivalry; it’s probably a superficial act to impress!

OS: To not practice it is also a choice. The choice to believe in equality. Chivalry isn’t right. The choice to like or hate it is right.

P1: What else does choice mean, OS? Obviously, it’s one’s choice not to practice it or otherwise.
Btw, i really would like to know if YOU believe in the very concept of being chivalrous?

OS: You used the word ‘right’ so many times with regards to things or reasons. Anyway I don’t believe in chivalry :)

Participant 2: I don’t get chivalry, we should be respectful and mindful of everyone. I mean if some guy bumps into u we say sala BC… its just not nice… lets just have good manners and leave chivalry to the Downtown Abbey guys

OS: Chivalry should not be confused with courtesy. Yes we should respect and be mindful of everyone we interact with but I don’t think it’s fair to go beyond our means or way for someone especially if external factors aren’t compromising safety.

P2: yea m not ruining my jacket so someone shouldnt step over a puddle… side se jao :P

Participant 3: Weird. Being as chivalrous as possible is my high. I wish the whole world, both men and women, would be more chivalrous. As long as you protect those weaker than you, in kindness and not out of some weird sense of duty, chivalry is what you are practicing. It’s about courage and honor, courtesy and justice. It isn’t something you can or cannot believe in. It is something that either comes naturally to you, you aspire towards, or you avoid. I think it’s noble.
And it’s anything but convenient. lol.

OS: P3, Thank you for that. As far as courtesy, courage and justice are concerned I agree. However, I do feel the modern interpretation of it is sometimes unfair. I think I practice chivalry in the traditional sense but i’d rather avoid it’s modern interpretation. If equality exists among two individuals I fail to understand why one of them is ‘duty bound’ or expected to be taking care of the other person especially when external factors like safety etc aren’t a concern. I’d rather have equality in my personal equations and I really wouldn’t want to be a guardian to someone who clearly doesn’t need it.

P3: In life, everyone is going to be weaker or stronger than you at some level. It depends on what level your interaction is happening, I believe. Of course its application (chivalry’s i.e.) would be different today than at the time of its inception, but that’s because the social set up at the time of origin was a violent and dangerous one, where knights were one of the strongest and women, amongst the weakest. But today, this is not necessarily true. Yes, if it’s late at night, and you’re in India, you are at a position of strength compared to any female friends you might have with you and chivalry might be expected of you, only on the basis of your being male, but to assume that is the be all and end all of chivalry is wrong. There may be times when you come across a lost child, or an injured dog or even a male colleague who is utterly lost. Or when you’re dealing with the help, or a waiter at a restaurant, or a confused elderly gentleman on the subway. 

I think Chivalry, in fact, is all about strength. If you know you are stronger than those around you, then as long as you do everything in your power to protect them, without expecting rewards or favors in return, you are being chivalrous. Those that say that it’s unfair because women always receive the benefit are buying into the notion that a woman is always weaker than a man, regardless of surroundings or circumstance, and as dismaying as it may be, the solution is not to shun chivalry, but to practice it properly, so that even those who denounce it come to receive its favors, and more importantly, because that is the burden of humanity on its path to civilization.

OS: *sips on water*…Okay!
I have a problem with it due to it’s very gendered connotations. Now, I’m not going to get into specifics of what I do which actually does resonate with your comment. However I wouldn’t compromise on equality specifically when the circumstances do not put me in a position of strength. ..courtesy would mean opening the door for someone regardless of their gender or vacating a seat for someone who clearly looks tired, with a child .. paying the bill, again without bringing gender into the equation, because I might absolutely adore the person, maybe in a position of more financial strength However I wouldn’t want to pay for someone just because according to gender stereotypes, I am supposed to or rush to open the car door for someone perfectly healthy because I’m supposed to. Assuming there is no position of strength involved in a particular situation, I do not believe in doing something just because that is what some gentleman did for his lady at the next table. In other words, I’d rather not be a position of strength and I’d love to be with someone who’s independent and doesn’t need me to pull off stupid stunts to amuse her yet if there’s ever a situation where I find myself in a position of strength, my belief system, how so ever flawed, will be doing everything that’s expected out of a decent human being.

P3: Yeah, so it is all about your own perception of your own strengths and weaknesses, as well as those of the people you are with. I frequently open doors for people I am with, male or female, because if I can do something that makes life easier for the person I am with, and it costs me less than nothing to do it, then why not? Does it mean I consider myself stronger than them in some way? Why, yes, it does. Often it does anyway. And for the few times where I am certain that I am at a disadvantaged position in terms of strength or capability, then what better opportunity to repay them for the chivalry I believe their advantageous position will inspire them to than by doing something as simple as opening a door, or fetching a glass of water, etc..

Freedom is only a word, but so is Love

Meaningless.
Obsolete.
Stuck in a
memory
Dancing doll,
stop your feet
The song’s long
gone, you see

Irredeemable
Lost in time
A nostalgia
so sublime
Under a red sky
that bled in rhyme
Binding souls
and stopping time

Irrelevant,
it haunts me
in flashes
that taunt me
I am confused
and lonely
The past seems
now so phony

Blitzed sunrises
and stormy nights
In fragments
of darkness and light
They haunt me,
leave me in a fright
And I can’t remember
what you didn’t say that night.

But, devour me
Swallow me whole
Tell me your secrets,
then tell me more
I’ll be your blood
You be my soul
Join me in enlightenment
Free me from this cold

Alas, it’s time
the truth must be set free
I love you, it’s true
But you don’t love me
And love’s only a word
What does it know of how things feel
No, love is overrated
Still, you don’t love me

True Freedom is
its own prison indeed
You’re always a captive
of the things that you need
And wanderers are free too
as long as they have nowhere to be
Ah, perhaps only the lost
can ever truly be free…

San-scarred for life

The Priestess of Q:

“Culture is not a standard protocol followed in ancient texts. How we do things is our culture. We eat with our hands, that’s our culture. We fold our hands when greeting elders, that’s our culture. We rape women, tear their clothes off, dump them from buses, that’s our culture.”

Brilliant piece! Must read for all those loyalist defenders of the “Indian Culture”.

Originally posted on Heartranjan's Blog:

The room is dimly lit. And eerily quiet.

The men and women seated around the table look at each other nervously. Finally, one of them summons up the courage to speak –

“I understand that, sir. But one of us has to make a nonsensical statement on the subject, sir.”

The man listens on, his eyes fixed on the speaker like a leopard’s. ‘Let the doctor do it.’

‘But, sir…’ the man injects, ‘he is a doctor. He ran the country’s…’

‘I know. But one of us has to make the statement. Let it be him. This meeting is dismissed.’

*

And just like that, another minister goes on to make an idiotic statement about the nation and Indian culture. This time, it was about sex education.

The entire episode has baffled me. That a reputed doctor would say that the nation needs to promote Indian values, and not condoms…

View original 1,176 more words

#YNWA Suarez

It. was. just. half. a. bite.

He didn’t attack or try to kill someone, for god’s sake. The man obviously has issues, he regresses to something primal when threatened, and yes, FIFA did need to send out a strong message.

But a stadium ban? And of 13 games for Liverpool? I mean, come on, that just sucks.

Suarez may have made a mistake, and while the act itself might not be justifiable or defensible, I think people should still support the player. He’s an awesome striker beyond compare. And no genius exists without a touch of madness.

Is it acceptable? No.

But, is it forgivable? Yes, I believe so..

And if Chiellini himself thinks so, then why are we judging him so harshly for something not a fifth as dangerous as a deliberate elbow to the nose, or a nasty ankle breaking tackle, or a head butt or a punch to the face? It was a moment of passion, it’s gone. Why do we have to condemn the man? If Chiellini himself thinks FIFA’s punishment is too harsh, why are so many of the LFC fans up in arms?

Chiellini on Suarez

 

You’ll never walk alone, isn’t that supposed to be it?

And, if you guys can’t find it in your hearts to forgive, support or love the man, at least give this article a read before you decide to condemn and slime him: Portrait of a Serial Winner

When do you think an ordinary player must walk alone, but we don’t let one of ours do that? Not when everything is fine, and the world thinks he’s great and wonderful. But when everyone else has turned against him… What he did might not be justified or defensible, but you can still support the lad. He didn’t murder or rape someone. It was just half a bite. Not even as dangerous as an elbow to the face or a violent headbutt or a kick to the shins or a bad tackle. It. was. just. half. a. bite. And if you really cannot find it in you to even support him, at least don’t slime him. That’s just mean. And base. And ungrateful.

I mean, he bit Chiellini, didn’t he? And Uruguay can find it in their hearts to support him wholeheartedly. So, what’s with all this hatred and mocking and taunting.

Really sad..

Why would he even want to stay in a club where the fans themselves do not even attempt to understand him? I, for one, would be really sad to see him go.. Has been a pleasure to watch on the field. And I’m proud that he’s in red, that he’s on our side.

A bite is not worth throwing your man to the dogs.

The Tower of Peace // Shelter from the Storm

She ran through the rain, the cold water dripping down the sides of her face and into the flowery dress that now clung scandalously to her body. The sun hovered lazily at the edge of the horizon, darkness only moments away. It was not far now. The Tower. She could already see it in the distance, rising up to the faintly star-studded sky, perfectly camouflaged against its surroundings. Hidden away from everybody else. It was sanctuary, her refuge. And as she made her way through the dense jungle, eyes focused only on her destination, she nearly stumbled and fell into a deep puddle of disturbed water. A stab of pain in her right ankle accompanied her regaining her balance. This was no time to fall.

Not much further now..

He was waiting at the foot of the tower when she got there. ‘You’re all drenched,’ he said, smiling. She wanted to throw herself into his arms like the long lost friends that they were. Instead, she insipidly nodded, looking around to see what had changed since the last time she had visited him here. The garden had grown wild, and there were flowers everywhere, yet she could see that he thought they bloomed to spite him, and she did her best not to speak of them or even think of them.

The flowers rustled quietly in the wind, as if begging to be touched.

Instead, she reached out and touched him, once, gently, the skin above his collar warm against her icy fingers. (Though perhaps that was the rain’s fault) She would have kissed him then, too, but they were supposed to be adults, and she was supposed to be a certain way that existed between two narrow lines of acceptable behavior. She satisfied herself by studying his profile instead, and as he spoke to her of troubles and amusements, she ached to run her fingers through his midnight hair. He smiled at her indulgently as she concentrated on the pieces of him that she could still see, that were still open to her, and then he turned away, leaving her to make her own way up the tower. It would take him a while to put away his weapons, lead the horses back to their stables and then join her. So she climbed the endless spiraling staircase herself, fingers curled around the cold railing in the dark, ankle still throbbing with a dull pain that she tried her best to ignore, water still dripping down her body in tiny rivulets and large drops.

It was a long way down.

Standing at the top, she felt a rush of giddy feeling sweeping over her. Perhaps things were finally changing for the better. Perhaps, the war was finally done with them. Perhaps, tonight, they could begin rebuilding everything that the fire had destroyed. Perhaps he would even remember what he had once sworn to her, a long long time ago, before the first war had started. But, somewhere within, she already knew what he always had; that the damage was done.

There was no going back.

Still, she thought wistfully, as she heard the wooden door rattle, and rushed to the door to let him in, beaming from ear to ear even as he breathed deeply, in an attempt to catch his breath after the steep climb. His hair was disheveled and wild as he stripped away his sweat soaked shirt and changed into the torn colorless gray garb that he seemed to favor. His eyes were always tired, even before the war, but lately it felt like even his own smiles stopped before they could reach his eyes. Still, he was beautiful to her.

And she smiled as she touched him again.

War or no war, every single ounce of pain was worth being able to stand here, so close to him, worth being able to touch him, even if he distractedly moved her hand away, or quickly sat down to pour over his books and maps before she had even finished saying what she was saying. It wasn’t important, surely. Not as vital as this memory of a present yet to be transformed into the past. His eyes glowed tirelessly as he sat at his desk late into the night, and she watched him sitting there for hours, until sleep tugged at her eye-lids and dragged her to its realm. Even then, she only truly breathed easy when she felt him climb into bed with her, his presence all the reassurance that she had ever needed.

The nights were the hardest part of her exile.

But in the present, (or maybe it was already the past, she thought sadly), her hand sought his as the World continued its indiscriminate and cruelly pre-meditated murdering and looting by bombs and missiles and soldiers all around their fortified turret. And even though he drew away from her subconscious need to feel his skin against her own, they both sighed peacefully and leaned into one another.

Like the last two trees in a parched desert.