It rained here yesterday night. We were playing cricket.
In the white light from the florescent lamps mounted high up , with the background of the pitch black sky and the slanted drizzle in the wind , I saw a white polythene bag floating by.
High above the rest of its type on the road , it was as if it was flying , enjoying the wind , gliding in it like a seagull , careless and free , brave enough to have left the security of its company , kissing every raindrop which fell on it , and which shimmered on its body in the white light.
But there was something missing , and it was the control it should have had over itself.
Yet, till the time it was in my sight ,it was so beautiful.
Wednesday, May 27
Friday, May 22
The life of a Eunuch
My name is Chandni. I am 25. I was born a boy , I was discovered a eunuch.
My father is a professor at a degree college in Lakheempur , Uttar Pradesh.
I was the first baby of our house. I was 11 and in the 7th standard of the Kendriya Vidyalaya, when I was left in the streets of Delhi by my father.
A police report was filed in the Lakheempur police station about me going missing. It is still open.
I begged for 3 years at the Canought Place inner circle with a group of beggars. Then my appearance gave away my sexuality. I was ridiculed of my being , of my existence by the fellow beggars. They teased me by clapping their hands in front of my face. Some even kicked my genitals. Then , one day they told me to get lost with my 'kind' of people.
I went to Rajghat , to beg. Nobody gave me alms. They stared at my face , as if I was some alien. The women with their children would scamper away when I asked them for some left-over food.
They did not even let me touch their feet. They thought 'it' might be contagious.
I used to cry at night about the sins I would have commited in my past life and the punishment God had given me.
The 500 rupees that I had saved in the past 3 years were about to be finished when the Rajghat group of eunuchs came to my rescue.
They were traveling in the Ambassador when they spotted me there.
The head of the group was Rajni. She took me to a building in the Mandavali area. I did not like Rajni , nor Shanno or Chameli. I was told to learn it from Rajni , the way to dance , to clap , to play the Dholak.
I was even told the way to fend off the ones who 'acted smart' , all the rebukes.
I did not like it. Initially , I was even reluctant to do it. Then one day when I was travelling alone in a local train , the whole compartment shooed me away. Ladies raised their voices. Children cried.3 men came and one of them spit on my feet. That day I rebuked as bad as I could , till the time I could get down at the next station. That evening I cried.
From the next day on , I was a eunuch.
My first independant assignment was on the occasion of house warming. I was 22 then. I started negotiating at 5000 rupees , it came down to 500. I am a poor bargainer. I give into emotions of the old, their eyes seem too innocent. I do not like dealing with 'housewifes', most of them. They make a ruckus about us blessing them , they treat us like filth. I do not understand , when both the Pandit and we are blessing them , in our own ways; well , ours is more physical but that is altogether a different issue. I like doing the rituals with ata and haldi and chawal. It gives me a sense of purity , like I was the same Pandit , like I was also deserving of the same importance and reverence as him.I wish people showed us the same obiesance as him.I wish we too had a cornshell and people would fold their hands in respect , and we would tie the thread in their hands , and they would touch our feet. Ha! romanticism.
In reality , even a genuine smile is what sometimes I crave for.
My father is a professor at a degree college in Lakheempur , Uttar Pradesh.
I was the first baby of our house. I was 11 and in the 7th standard of the Kendriya Vidyalaya, when I was left in the streets of Delhi by my father.
A police report was filed in the Lakheempur police station about me going missing. It is still open.
I begged for 3 years at the Canought Place inner circle with a group of beggars. Then my appearance gave away my sexuality. I was ridiculed of my being , of my existence by the fellow beggars. They teased me by clapping their hands in front of my face. Some even kicked my genitals. Then , one day they told me to get lost with my 'kind' of people.
I went to Rajghat , to beg. Nobody gave me alms. They stared at my face , as if I was some alien. The women with their children would scamper away when I asked them for some left-over food.
They did not even let me touch their feet. They thought 'it' might be contagious.
I used to cry at night about the sins I would have commited in my past life and the punishment God had given me.
The 500 rupees that I had saved in the past 3 years were about to be finished when the Rajghat group of eunuchs came to my rescue.
They were traveling in the Ambassador when they spotted me there.
The head of the group was Rajni. She took me to a building in the Mandavali area. I did not like Rajni , nor Shanno or Chameli. I was told to learn it from Rajni , the way to dance , to clap , to play the Dholak.
I was even told the way to fend off the ones who 'acted smart' , all the rebukes.
I did not like it. Initially , I was even reluctant to do it. Then one day when I was travelling alone in a local train , the whole compartment shooed me away. Ladies raised their voices. Children cried.3 men came and one of them spit on my feet. That day I rebuked as bad as I could , till the time I could get down at the next station. That evening I cried.
From the next day on , I was a eunuch.
My first independant assignment was on the occasion of house warming. I was 22 then. I started negotiating at 5000 rupees , it came down to 500. I am a poor bargainer. I give into emotions of the old, their eyes seem too innocent. I do not like dealing with 'housewifes', most of them. They make a ruckus about us blessing them , they treat us like filth. I do not understand , when both the Pandit and we are blessing them , in our own ways; well , ours is more physical but that is altogether a different issue. I like doing the rituals with ata and haldi and chawal. It gives me a sense of purity , like I was the same Pandit , like I was also deserving of the same importance and reverence as him.I wish people showed us the same obiesance as him.I wish we too had a cornshell and people would fold their hands in respect , and we would tie the thread in their hands , and they would touch our feet. Ha! romanticism.
In reality , even a genuine smile is what sometimes I crave for.
Wednesday, May 20
Hostel Cricket
It is 5 in the morning .
And it has been 4 hours since I have been playing cricket with all the guys who have stayed back in the summer holidays in the hostel.
Love to have started playing again, after nearly 3 years.
And would like to keep this memory forever , the whole 'bakar' game that is played , and where teams seem to be at war , where some are identified for ' uski to bajaani hi hai' , where sometimes the scrotum of the other team players are the target , where , ma- bhen derivatives know no bounds , where sledging happens intra as well as inter-team , where the sound of the bat connecting to the ball is better than any sweet music , where a 4 or a 6 is celebrated by showing gestures which would never be shown in a social gathering , where we can transform into 10 year olds quarreling about a boundary , a wide or even the rules that apply to the game , where a game finishes every 10 minutes and a new star batsmen or bowler emerges for each.
The heat is a deterrent for us in the day , the humidity is the reason for us cribbing to go home , but when it is cricket , we don't even care , whether after an hour of play , even our vests are to be taken off.
Only when the birds start chirping and when the first rays of the sun can be seen destroying the darkness around , giving a heavenly bluish tinge to the sky , do we call our game off.
And it has been 4 hours since I have been playing cricket with all the guys who have stayed back in the summer holidays in the hostel.
Love to have started playing again, after nearly 3 years.
And would like to keep this memory forever , the whole 'bakar' game that is played , and where teams seem to be at war , where some are identified for ' uski to bajaani hi hai' , where sometimes the scrotum of the other team players are the target , where , ma- bhen derivatives know no bounds , where sledging happens intra as well as inter-team , where the sound of the bat connecting to the ball is better than any sweet music , where a 4 or a 6 is celebrated by showing gestures which would never be shown in a social gathering , where we can transform into 10 year olds quarreling about a boundary , a wide or even the rules that apply to the game , where a game finishes every 10 minutes and a new star batsmen or bowler emerges for each.
The heat is a deterrent for us in the day , the humidity is the reason for us cribbing to go home , but when it is cricket , we don't even care , whether after an hour of play , even our vests are to be taken off.
Only when the birds start chirping and when the first rays of the sun can be seen destroying the darkness around , giving a heavenly bluish tinge to the sky , do we call our game off.
Sunday, May 17
The public's verdict
16 th May would always be a milestone in the indian politics. The verdict of the people is conspicuously clear , we no more can tolerate a government made of goons (of the RJD), a polity of nonsecular ( yes , which makes more sense after one of my friends told me the three 'basic' issues addressed by the BJP) people or representatives who brand themselves on the basis of caste ( with special reference to Mr. Pasvan).
Seeing the mandate , it is clear that the public still wants grass root politics , where candidates go to their villages and ask their problems ( as Rahul Gandhi did in UP) , not pompous advertising on every website you visit ( the campaign showing Advani humped ; which I got to know was even there on some porn sites) or someone who sits on the seat of power as if a queen ( and then calls herself 'dalit ki beti').
Mr Lone loosing his debut election shows that even the awam of Kashmir does not want seperatist leaders( considering a majority of people voting).
It is a landmark election , where at last , after some 15 years we would have a stable and independant government.
Seeing the mandate , it is clear that the public still wants grass root politics , where candidates go to their villages and ask their problems ( as Rahul Gandhi did in UP) , not pompous advertising on every website you visit ( the campaign showing Advani humped ; which I got to know was even there on some porn sites) or someone who sits on the seat of power as if a queen ( and then calls herself 'dalit ki beti').
Mr Lone loosing his debut election shows that even the awam of Kashmir does not want seperatist leaders( considering a majority of people voting).
It is a landmark election , where at last , after some 15 years we would have a stable and independant government.
Friday, May 15
Looking = Eveteasing
Attached is a snapshot from the blank noise project .
15% of the people who have voted here think that looking , yes , looking is a way of eve teasing.
Well , I agree staring is , but looking?
And , for me the most surprising part is that 15% people also voted that , other than the ways of eve teasing in the list here, there are other ways of eve teasing as well. How can people think of so many ways!
Sunday, May 3
Languages
And suddenly I want to learn Bengali for reading Tagore , Latin for Dante and Sanskrit for The Gita.
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