An Adulterated Life

Call girls. Prostitutes. Nymphs. Even worse, sluts and whores. Even an elite bitch works like magic.

Doesn’t matter how derogatory and pervert these words are, whether you like it or not, these words have a life of their own. And precariously, they live amongst civilians like us, living a nomadic journey of sleuth and ignominy. We despise them, yet we want them. It’s a dynasty of ruthless victims and jeopardised lives.

If they are animals, we are of a worst kind.

Prostitution is an industry in itself. An industry that traces its roots back to 200 years (perhaps older taking in to account, the frivolous and lustful nature of the human clan). Despite all the taboo attached to it, it still manages to thrive big and remain pioneers in a money spinning game of lethal flesh and enduring politics.

Coming back to the lives of women who have embraced prostitution as a way of life.

Real time, on the ground.

To begin with, let’s clear the air about this profoundly disgusting profession. It has nothing to do with pleasure, love or the art of lovemaking. In fact, it is devoid of human emotions and chemistry. All it is, is a game of flesh and bones. The woman is just devoured and used, spit and discarded once the capacity to inflict pain diminishes. All in all and significantly put, it is rape with consent.

As I mentioned earlier, here the protagonists are equally hapless and displaced. One craves for the other, for obvious and inexplicable reasons.

It is also a glorious example of the position of women they hold in a society and culture that has been an epitome of mercurial savages with a penchant for vegetable terrain.

Prostitution is an industry manufactured and designed to integrate the turmoil of system. Men need respite, women are used to get crucified and system needs a bait to bask in return on investments. A system relegated to a wicked and inevitable ploy supplemented by an equally disdainful history.

The families of such women are equally guilty. We have families around this world who struggle to make ends meet and the money their women make from this distasteful profession is a welcome boon. But, they equally despise them for what they do and the women are subjected to unsurmountable pain and hatred, which is grossly unfair. They want the cash but they don’t the profession to taint their lives which in itself is the sole reason for their survival. Pretentious, to say the least.

Despite leading a bereaved life of pain and humiliation, this clan continues to grow unapologetically. Redundancy, for one, is not a forte in this world woven with ruthless anguish.

the augmented change

Few years ago, some time ago, we lived in different world. Today, we have evolved and separated ourselves from the advent of community jargon and have become ‘Global’. But the statement still hovers around like a hawk in an air of turbulence. Did we really accomplish the need or merely created another need out of a cucumber?

The world believed we became stronger after 9/11, but we also became a tad poorer and weaker in terms of adaptability and susceptibility. We also entered in to a new era where started judging people and their acquaintances by their names.
What’s a name – it is our identity, not a reflection of our abilities to make or remake. Nor does a name indicate plagiarism. But it was deemed as ‘fatal’, a name convulsed in to a benchmark for a religion and we started to crucify the guilt within ourselves.

Yes, the world changed. But the attitude and our behavior towards the human kind turned ugly and degraded. Before, we had inhibitions but were conducive. After, our intolerance towards a specific community has taken an unsurmountable leap towards de-manifestation of the human clan.
Yet, we have evolved as human beings. Yes, derogatory but precariously acceptable.

Citizens became traitors, names were objects to decipher identity, our brothers and sisters became ‘Jihadis’, and suddenly, our world became a religious cocoon under the scanner for dastardly acts of few unscrupulous, spineless people who take shelter under violence and cowardice to prove a point that embellishes all logic and purpose.
Yet, we are evolving and surviving.

There is no end to this apocalypse though. Crucification has only led to more indispensable powers and evil vibes. 9/11 has given rise to a plethora of demons that have emerged, submerged and reemerged since last 15 years, and the disaster recovery continues to struggle against audacity and ruthlessness. Above all, some excruciating powers inflicting pain and misery upon the lives of innocents is our bane for sheer existence.

I am certain, we are evolving amidst chaos.

when all the fuss is about water

I don’t think we have control over a water source, its tributaries or the destination where its lands up irrespective of geography or demography of a specific landscape. I think so, well, am quite certain. But millions including our governments don’t seem to get this on table. And, a conflict that rues over 100 plus years is a testimony to our stark failures in dealing with national issues. I simply think we are not courageous enough to deal with issues of impending realities and our inabilities to have a vision that is disintegrated in the hands of nepotism and conniving leaders.

Honestly, the crop of administrators and governments were not even born when the agreement between 2 states (can’t really condemn the term ‘state’ today) has perpetuated to a conflict of a massive burnout that’s lasted for more than a century. And, remember, our worst nightmares are yet to follow suit.

In a sub continent raven by diversities and anomalies, we are still fighting over political gains and trilingual modes of treason. We have states where governments cannot talk to each other over an issue that has plagued a landscape over 120 years and this gets escalated to PM’s table for a peace treaty and another long, vain, mutilated conversation that will lead to another 50 years of negotiation.

We want justice, we condemn our laws, we hate violence but love propagating it. We have problems, we love solutions but prefer to keep them away in barracks till mayhem strikes at your door for annihilation.

This isn’t a thorn in our flesh, we have beaten our flesh black blue to let the throne rule and bring the demons over to rule the roost.

I wake up to explosions, mayhem and dismantling human existence. Are we living in a handicapped igloo?

‘Celebrate people when they are alive, gives us a reason to believe why they deserved it’. @msksmiles

It’s time we push ourselves to a notch higher were people and their achievements are acknowledged on time. My anguish is pretty much in terms of our award system, be it in/for excellence in any field. I would love to believe that most of the coveted renderings aren’t manufactured, yet it makes sense to award someone when he/she realises and is able to cherish the fact that he/she is being awarded/appreciated/lauded. At the outset, we still have a long way to go when it comes to recognition of human achievements and their monumental impact on the world affairs.

This is familiar characteristic in the media industry, especially films, since it happens to be the most visible and popular. It pre exists in the field of science and politics as well but it isn’t as imperative as the achievements and their acknowledgement is often deemed implicit. But does it demand anonymity is a question to be asked. More significantly, human achievements are not bound by or for laurels, they are a work of magical minds and herculean efforts. If they cant sit on trophies, I don’t think trophies can sit on them. They would rather grace them with their enamoured hands, with a smile and a sense of umpteen satisfaction.

Food for thought?

when earth quakes

Earthquakes, quintessentially, creates panic and deprive people of using their common sense. I am consciously avoiding the technicalities here as having the knowledge of how earthquakes happen and the art of surviving when one hits us seldom go hand in hand.

I am of the opinion that we must showcase real gut and presence of mind when such impending disasters loom large. Not that they will break down upon us but the acceptance statement of ‘they could at any point of time’ should give us enough impetus to hold on to our nerves and make an attempt to survive and contribute positively. Besides, the best we can do in these situations is to keep calm, act courageously and avoid scaring others.

Pray that hell doesn’t break loose but god forbid, if it does, let’s get a grab of ourselves and not make the most of an already convicted vicinity.

the 2015 that was..

Technically, we are still there. So hold on, but then, for how long?

Its been a while since we keep talking about what went wrong, what didn’t go well, how people deceived you, how nature’s wrath upon you was so unwarranted, why your employer doesn’t pay you well, why the world has turned so cruel.. the bandwagon is long and lengthy, painful to patronise

But then, I have a question – doesn’t life always cease to dwell upon our inefficiencies and gets the best out of the inner ego of ours that so unwillingly is sandwiched between our sub conscious state of insatiable back packs and that part of our testimonials that is so desperate to succeed in a life where society is beset with maverick congenialities?

Ah, the answer isn’t that simple, hence take your time.

So, this time, my flashbacks would be more of a dismantled poetry that we usually don’t want to venture through our naked eyes. Calligraphic bludgeons of a gorgeous bystander, a naive observation of an amateur, the inspiring words of a CEO on the growing potential of technology and its takers – depends on what appeals to you the most but one decimal of it is attributed to your affinity towards the jingles of the sound that each of them produce to change your lives. Could be a proportionate one or a mere acquaintance of rich standards. Both ways, we stand vindicated.

The days gone by are sometimes difficult to recollect for couple of reasons – too good to talk about or the opposite. Yes, you can argue that good times are always nice to talk about. True, but sometimes its good to leave the good ones behind and look forward to the greater delights of the world cuisine. After all, basking in glory is seldom an attribute of a champion goose (you can treat that as an adventive of my muse), quite so.

Coming to my usual human endeavours that occupies me during most of the year, 2015 was damn good one, at least, to begin with. I wasn’t in the country for most of the ethereal days in the Indian shores, and English waters treated me well with the sarcasm of a Brit and the flamboyance of a spirited youngster. Work kept me busy but then, I had my own moments that helped to gain the rightful brownie points one usually thrives for memorable indulgence. Exploring the north western corners of England was a breathtaking memoir and the highlands of Scotland left me famished. Well, I will go on and on till you ask me to put my foot down. Yes, am almost there to hang up.

Later this year, families, people, queer acquaintances, lots of travel, perceived jolts, the ‘coming-back’ syndrome and ceiling high aspirations leaves me with just one thing – am asking for more.

Am beginning to feel selfish, so lets move away from the indomitable me and talk about how the world changed while I was working around towards renaissance – ah well, a lot of stuff that I wouldn’t like to. Honestly, hate to open the pandoras box in front of this incubating, arousing set of people.

Sporting events are always a highlight of a year thats demanding a couture from its juggling legacy – the Cricket WC (though not the best in recent memory) unfolded with a one sided flak. ISL took centre stage, especially for the sub continent when its best advertisement doesn’t come football. Wimbledon saw some staggering Indian menace and was a candy to our dry eyes. The victory for Indian women in Kabaddi WC was flourishing news but not widely celebrated in the plated circles (not surprising though).
Amidst such fine climate, disturbances did spoil the world affairs. Paris attacks were black days for the history makers and no one feels the anguish more than India, pity we burnt our fingers on numerous occasions despite the UN intervention and extending the precarious principle of solidarity. Thats probably termed as ‘suicidal dilemma’, for us. For rest, its global disaster that we have so easily got used to.
We rounded off with the ‘Baap’ of all time rain-hit calamities, and Chennai city came to a screeching halt. Took weeks to stand on its feet, and recuperating to retain normalcy. (Also read – )

I hate to but will stop, else I get this furious feeling that the year might not end on the pretext of my vivacious account of its famous and infamous exploits. Sighs!

2015, please go. I will not miss you but will occasionally flash through to beat the best of it.

Chennai – Mayhem to Life

the city of indian sunshine, the glory of south indian peninsula,
quite always the doyen of heat and coffee, temples and bay of divine cuisine.
ambushed by nature, swallowed by waters, mangled with chaos.
chennai, the city of belligerent mother. today.

raven by marauding clouds, broken hearts and thousand more.
galloping horse sedated by the titanic verse, vetted by chapters unlike past.
when monsoon never arrives, oh boy! sure it did this time.
whose vengeance? ask mother gods to their bosses of imperious poise,
holy cow, cows and sheep afloat amidst human jab of path breaking menace.

survival, ah, the call of the hour and wait for thousands.
desperate measures and teething myriads of city living under shades of mercurial salt,
forged missions and buckets of help from a nation that comes together to live.
unrivalled, un-hatched, un-helmed – still pouring as I invite solace to calm madness.

not victim or witness, a son who is just elated to find his own in the lap of safety,
while weeps for the ones who have none to lend a thought about.
at a time of clad moments when time and machine have given away to human arms,
when money and technology were swept away through to shelter and survival.
yes, the days when sanity took over. for a change, we wept. we must.

lets forget the intolerance gig, time to embrace the inevitable quit and slit the git,
lets do it once, for us and only for us. not for the humdingers of political cats.
yes, yes, we are doing it. truly, we are at it. all ruins yes, hope is the victor and disparage collides.
chennai – yes, you are rising and am at the top, with you, surging away.

When’s next?

‘Animals don’t live in jungles anymore. We have evolved – they look like humans, dress like normal people, roam around in every corner of our lives and rape our women like predators’.

Rape has now become a rustic commodity of filthy proportions. Ever since the gruesome night in Delhi, we talk about it almost everyday, much like politics banter, cricket victories and the economic stories. And much to the dismay of our self, we just keep living with this horror of being surrounded by such m*****f****** who take immense pride in killing the soul of our lives. And to top it, we have few shameless coordinates who fight for such junks and audaciously proclaim that the root cause of such barbaric events rests on our women. Aghast I am!

No, the piece of my mind is not due to the recently released documentary that’s doing the rounds in FBs and Twitters. But I am pained to see the respect our governments and establishments have for the womenfolk in the country. And mind you, it isn’t an Indian issue. I believe US, Europe and South East are faced with even terrible dangers of dealing with such blood shots as their crime rate of rape incidents are astronomical. True, India is generating a lot of hue and cry on this of late, but to term India as the most unsafe for women would be a foolish statement. Unless, someone is truly addressing the issue with the jerk that’s actually required for such heinous acts.

Let me tell you a short tale. Right from my childhood days, Kolkata was widely acknowledged as one of the safest cities in India where respect for women was a part of folklore. The only city in India where Maa Durga and Kali are worshipped with an extravaganza that’s unseen outside the Bengal waters. My sister and mom could walk in home after 11 PM without mobile phones, we could still sleep tight beneath our pillows, being assured of their safe return. 15-20 years down the line, this has changed. With all my love for the city of joy that remains undiminished, this change is a sorry state of affairs for the women in the city. The other day, I read about a rape case in rural Bengal, the sordid tale goes beyond the interiors. Major cities including Kolkata wake up to such horrors every morning and the newspaper goes to the trash can by end of the day but the events don’t. Mumbai, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Chennai, Ahmedabad and of course Delhi – all have rape jargon to boast of. Yet, the noise dwindles for the day, only to reappear with few more maniacs lurking around like grasshoppers. Hard to notice, but yet creeping over our lives.

Coming back to the documentary, more intent was displayed on banning it rather than focussing on the content that brought forth such unscrupulous people living around that includes fire fighting guys like lawyers – I was shocked to hear their perception of women and a nightmare to imagine that these guys have mothers and wives to live with. Why don’t we ban such lawyers from the system? Is this what we come up from education and civilised decorum (so called)? I agree that the documentary kind of glorifies the comments of the precarious individuals but then why not tap on this ugly publicity to slaughter the administration that survives on the bane of such individuals?

Worst, these kinds are custodians of law and we expect them to fight for morality. Holy Christ!

We have seen that rape is beyond feminism, sensuality and lust. It’s an act of vicious audacity that murders humanity, at the core. How on earth do you explain 6 year olds being raped? What could be the modus operandi? Nuns are being raped, what…? I am not sure if you feel the agony around or you probably decide to just ignore it until something ghastly happens with one of your own?? Newspapers, media, governments, wealthy powerful people.. Do they just splash the news to invoke curiosity out of those celebrated convicts? May be, we will wait for another 10 years to make up our mind if rapists deserve death penalty? I still hear statements like ‘India is a tolerant country, our culture is different’ – how long will we live with shit like this and embrace ourselves to cowardice in the pretext of shielding our values? Are we not the same country whose pseudo title happens to be ‘Mother India’?

Well, Mother in India is dying, what about you World?

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