Sapphire Eyes

                                                       

India, January 1947: Ilma, a young girl of the age of 6 was knitting a sweater as cold winter winds swept across the courtyard of her Dadajaan’s haveli on the outskirts of Lahore. It was a winter morning; her sapphire blue eyes were filled with envy as her 4 year old brother, Abdul got a kiss on his forehead from Ammi, who somehow didn’t seem to notice the refrained smile Ilma’s bright face seemed to pass her. Ammi carried on with her chores. Her dada came back from his early morning stroll and kept his walking stick behind the gate and walked towards the tap where Ilma was seated. Within a blink of an eye, she was left sprawling, with five long marks on her white cheek. She had been slapped for not completing her knitting on time. Her dada said “You wretched girl! You have been at this for nearly two hours! Who will make my chai? Tasneem! Where is my chai?” Ammi came running out and saw Ilma silently sobbing. “Stop wasting your time crying and fetch me the tea leaves you fool!” As Ilma went to get the tea leaves, a retired army officer, Nawaz Khilji entered. He had fought for the allies in the war and even lost a leg in the course of it. He now walked on a leg made of tin. The minute Ilma was born she was despised by her ammi and dada. She was her father’s daughter and whenever possible, those sapphire blue eyes were protected by her abbu. “She will go nowhere! She was made to drop out of school while I was at war even when higher studies beckoned, so that she can learn the chores of the house. At least respect her for that!

  Nawaz spent a lot of time with Ilma doing anything that a normal father would; he would walk with her, teach her poetry and take her cycling. To those blue eyes, her abbu was the only rope upwards from this abyss of restriction, plight and domestic violence.

                                      *****

July-August 1947: The life of not only Ilma but more than one billion people had changed forever. Partition had been declared. Even as Islam followers, Ilma’s family had its roots in Kanpur. With his well established connections in Lahore, dada arranged for trucks to transport luggage and family to the other side of the border.

   However the locality where they lived was a Hindu dominated area, and with killings of Hindus all over Pakistan, they were thirsty for blood. They surrounded the house from the front. Nawaz Khilji’s army instincts arose and he decided to hold off the mob till everyone was ready to leave. He went to the roof where bricks lay and hurled brick by brick at the goons below. By that time a worried Ilma and a terror struck Abdul, Ammi and Dada were on the truck, when suddenly the truck began leaving. “Abbu!” Ilma exclaimed. “He offered to sacrifice himself for us” sobbed Dadajaan. “He also told you to stay strong and not bow in front of the world.”

  A pretty young Abdul looked back only to feel sad for the fact that the fields where he played are now gone forever. Ammi howled and looked back to realize, her pillar of strength, her husband was alive no longer. For Dadajaan his ancestor’s lands had been lost forever. For Ilma, they were moving from one abyss to another, just that the new abyss had no rope out.

                                                                                      *****

Kanpur, March 1951:  As those blue eyes looked out from the barred window, a koyal perched, singing on the branch, spring had arrived. India was finally emerging out of the grief of partition, in a little less than four years. However losing her Abbu had made a great deal of difference to her. She hardly spoke; she had nightmares of her father shouting out her name while being beaten to death by those goons. She felt dead from the inside.

   Ilma’s family moved in with her Dada’s younger brother Rehman Khilji. He was a wealthy landlord and had a two storied bungalow. Unmarried, he lived alone. Here again, she was mistreated and was regularly bashed up by the arrogant Khilji brothers for the pettiest of things. Her mother hardly ever protested, turning all her attention to the growing Abdul.

  Ilma was a depressed, suppressed but stunningly beautiful, her hair was jet black, her face though frequently bruised, when at its best was really fair, her deep blue sapphire eyes were alluring. She was tall and her body weight was just perfect. Her smile though, it barely ever came on, could make anyone forget their anger.

  On a hot day in the summer of 1955, Rehman Khilji was on his way down from the roof when he crossed Ilma’s room. Through the creek of the door he saw Ilma with a towel around her, her hair was wet. He stopped to have a better look at her and at the same time Ilma’s attention fell upon those wolf like eyes. She rushed to shut the door; however Rehman stuck a foot in it. He kicked open the door and barged in. Ilma tried to scream but Khilji put his hand over her mouth. She tried to struggle but it was a futile exercise. She had to give in eventually to the much stronger Khilji. Two hours later, a notably sweaty Khilji walked out of the room and an expressionless Ilma lay naked on the bed.

   Later that night Ilma went to her mother and told her what had happened, expecting some condolence. She said”Ammi what wrong have I done? Why is Allah so angry with me? Why am I beaten up and molested?” To this Ammi merely replied “He gave you a house, he will do as he pleases with you. He sends Abdul to the best school in Kanpur!” Ilma smiled. She made herself believe that her mother went through the same in her time, everything was to be forgiven.

  It was now 1959; Rehman Khilji had passed away with a heart attack two years ago but not before molesting Ilma several times. Ilma’s sapphire blue eyes were filled with sorrow, her fair white face showed no emotion whatsoever.

 One day while doing the dishes, through the window she saw Abdul having an altercation with the neighbor’s daughter. “You randi! I will rape you!” he screamed at her and stomped inside the house in a fit of rage. He took off his chappals and went into the kitchen. “Make me some kheer Didijaan!” he demanded.”First you will tell me why you made such a derogatory remark at that girl!”. “She refused to kiss me! She loves someone else! How dare she refuse Abdul Khilji?” Ilma was shocked. “Abdul you cannot think this way. She is a woman free to her choices. She has every right to refuse you. You can only attempt to woo her and accept her choice!” Abdul went red in the face.”I will do as I please! Now make me the kheer please! “.  

  Ilma knew anything she said would have no effect on Abdul. She was deeply disturbed, so she recited the whole incident to Ammi. “So what? He is my son! He deserves anything he wants!” Ilma walked out of the room, her head down in despair. Her otherwise enchanting eyes seemed to have given up.

   Subsequently, Abdul’s ego had taken a big dent. How did his sister, a woman, have the courage to stand up against him? The next night violent shrieks were heard in the house. Someone had been hurt bad. Tasneem rushed up to the room where the howl s came from. She entered the room and saw Abdul holding his bleeding arm. Ilma was crying but her face had no injury marks. Ammi’s eyes were shell shocked when she finally saw Ilma’s leg, it had pieces of shattered glass on them and her skin had been eaten away by acid. Yes. Abdul Khilji had broken an acid bottle on his own sister only because she was worried about him. She was not taken to the hospital that night. Only her brother was, but then again, he was her ‘brother’ after all.

  Ilma was completely devastated by now, her life had no meaning. She sometimes wondered if she had stayed back with her Abbu all those years ago to help him. It would have been so much better, she thought. She would have died, but death would come at the side of a person who loved and respected her the most. She also pondered upon the possibility that maybe seeing a girl, they would have spared their lives and she would now be living with just her father in what was now called, Pakistan.

                                                                                       *****

February 1961, her Dadajaan had passed away and the remaining family had now moved to Gujrat where Tasneem’s parents had a house. On a sunny afternoon, a completely depressed Ilma had gone out to buy vegetables for the house. She was busy arguing over the price of bhindi when she suddenly noticed a young man staring at her. It was hard for any man not to stare at her with those bedazzling sapphire blue eyes. She moved on to the next fruit cart and the man followed her. Ilma, with the entire trauma she faced in her life felt threatened and ran home.

      The man was Amar Pratap. He was in his mid 20’s, an IPS officer who lived in the same locality. The next day the same episode was repeated, this process continued for a few days. One day Amar Pratap gathered his courage and went up to her. “Aapka naam kya hai?” he said.  There was something about him that instantly made her murmur “Ilma.” “Can I help you with these” he said, pointing towards a bag of tomatoes. “Yes” she said in a voice full of shyness and fear. They walked home together, neither uttering a word. At the last turn she said “shukriya”, indicating that she could not be spotted with a man, especially a Hindu.

    Their meetings like these, continued for a whole month. Sometimes, this suppressed girl even managed to gather enough courage to sneak out at night for a stroll with Pratap. She felt a strange sort of security and comfort when with him. In a magical way, he reminded her of Abbu. She told him everything about her life, from molestation to acid burns, discrimination to captivity. One night as Ilma was saying something about the stars, Pratap suddenly bent forward and kissed her full in the mouth “I will free you from your captivity, religion is not a problem for me, and I want to marry you at the earliest” he said. A shocked Ilma took a moment to take it all in and said “Pratap, I’m overwhelmed by your words, however I can’t marry you, the society won’t let me and I am a disturbed person. Above all, I am not even a virgin”. “I do not give a damn! We will get married.” Ilma was brought to tears, she simply hugged him.

   In the next month Pratap had convinced a very rigid Tasneem to agree for the marriage. She although agreed only after she realized that Pratap had demanded no dowry. She thought this was the best way to get rid of her biggest burden. A simple wedding took place and her daughter was ‘disposed’ off.

  The next few years were the best years of Ilma’s life. In Pratap she found a man who gave her unconditional love and respect, something she had been searching for, throughout her life. His parents were very warm, treating her like their daughter. She had everything. The smile on those lips was back, the sparkle in those eyes was back.

   It was June 1966 and Ilma was ecstatic. She was 5 months pregnant. Pratap never forced a child; he wanted to wait till she was mentally and physically ready. Everyone was celebrating. It was not to last. Riots broke out in Lucknow and Pratap’s younger brother was brutally killed in a Muslim mob. All the good in Pratap that day was overshadowed by his sudden hatred for Muslims. He could not let a Muslim give birth to his child. He stormed up to Ilma and kicked her in the stomach. Ilma let out a huge wail and fell on the ground. He kicked her several times till he was convinced that the baby was dead. Ilma was saved at the hospital. Tasneem was informed but she couldn’t care less. In this never-ending battle against fate, Ilma had lost again. Her sadness knew no bounds. A divorce was taken the following month.

    Ilma had now decided to head away. She couldn’t stay with her in-laws and her mother wouldn’t take her in. She packed her bags and left for Kashmir where she became a household maid. No one heard from her ever since.

   On 13^th September 1969, Amar Pratap breathed his last. He died in his sleep under mysterious circumstances. On 15^th September, Tasneem passed away under similar conditions. When police officials reached Ilma’s house on 18^th September, they found her on the bed, her wrist slashed, her body numb and breathless and the sapphire blue, blood red. Her lips had a smile on them. On the bedside was a return ticket from Gujrat dated 13^th – 16^th September, 1969.    

The Kid Inside

I just spent the whole of the last 48 hours playing Ludo, Snakes and Ladders and Uno with my friends Nidhi & Palak, and it was one of the best days in the recent past that we spent together. I mean what can be better than playing Ludo all day. Oh I’m sorry I forgot to mention two of us are 18 years old and one is 19 years old, also all three of us are on the threshold of second year college. Weird? I don’t think so.  Here’s why. There is a kid inside each one of us and we have to pay him regular visits just to keep him alive.

   It was refreshing. The only worry on our otherwise fully occupied mind was to get a 6 or 1 on the die to start the game, or to get a “draw 4” in our hand of cards so that the other one would suffer. We forgot all about stupid “moot problems” (and to those of you who don’t know, I am not referring to the Hindi moot problem but to a moot court problem, so don’t let your imagination run wild!) or about  MUNs or about college attendance and assignment. We never really knew they existed. We travelled back into time to the good old days where just getting one over your friend in Ludo or earning more than him in Monopoly was the most sought after achievement. As I was intensely concentrating on our game one of my companions cut the other’s “geeti” and I noticed a very childish smile on her face.A fight happened between Nidhi and Aman over some stupid rules of the game and we stopped playing, fights like these are better than having the usual fight over who said about who to who! about  I wondered that do a majority of us take life too seriously? Are we too focused on our studies and careers? Someone once said that too much of anything is bad. Do we need to pay the kid inside more frequent visits? We do. In the speed of life these days we are losing our very soul, our childish innocence. That childish smile seemed long lost

Anyway this blog is getting too serious and will defeat its own purpose. Returning to Ludo, I being the “champ” I am won yet again. Nidhi took snakes and ladders against all odds after she slipped from 94 to 64 twice! Some achievement I must say. I say to all you readers, play a game of Monopoly every once in a while, or if you were a nerdy kid then perhaps you should prove your worth in Scotland yard. You will enjoy it.

  The basic point is keep that kid alive, watch an episode of Tom & Jerry or Pokemon. Visit your old school, ,meet your teachers and childhood friends, visit long lost places see old pictures. The happiness that childhood memories bring can’t even be bought by Mastercard. There is a kid inside you walking down high school hallways, walk with him. He’s inside  humming old hits sing with him. Go along for a ride with him to places you cannot even forget if you tried. Do all this and then when you come back to “reality” you will be refreshed more focused and will have better view of this beautiful worry free life.

  Lastly for those of you who think this is “un-cool “, tell me what can be more cool than playing Ludo with you girlfriend? They don’t make them like that anymore. Food for thought.

The Capital

New Delhi, one of the world’s most advancing and progressive cities, the capital city of the 'next superpower' of the world. With all the advancements made in the construction of the metro, which has become the windpipe for the city. New flyovers being made, the BRT, new look buses, all sorts of events happening in Delhi, with the world coming to watch. These events range from the mega Commonwealth Games to the annual trade and book fairs. Delhi slowly but surely emerging as one of the best cities in the world, or is it? By the cloud of dust raised due to the construction of infrastructure facilities, our eyes are blinded to the common people and in particular their safety and it is on this aspect that I would like to focus on and more importantly on safety of women. What is the use of extending metro timings to 11 in the night, when women can’t travel safely after 8? What is the use of encouraging women to work in MNC’s when they can’t even fulfill their basic need of feeling safe. Let’s look at this aspect in detail.

Many may argue that Delhi is getting safer for women now. I can’t help but agree, however what we are missing is Delhi doesn't just constitute Delhi it also includes Gurgaon, Noida, Faridabad. Places like these pose the more dangerous threat to women. The problem is that the typical thug resides in villages in and around these places, and to add to that most multinationals have their offices in these areas and thus women often work late hours in these areas, plus they host a plethora of pubs and clubs and thus even more women who are even dressed for clubbing visit these areas at night.

Recently on New Year’s Eve night at mg road (one of the more 'developed' parts of Gurgaon), a huge mob gathered outside a pub, and then when a couple arrived the beat up her beau and tried to molest the girl and the girl was rescued only when the police arrived. Recently only a employee of a pub was going back home in a hired radio taxi (which is supposed to be safer) with her 17 year old brother. Suddenly the car was stopped by a gang of 5 and the girl was taken to a flat, where she was raped and in the morning she was dumped outside a metro station. In response to all this the administration just said that women will not be allowed to work after 8pm in Gurgaon. So in a way they say that it’s the girls fault that she was raped and they run away from the responsibility .On one hand you encourage women working and then instead of providing them safety you put restrictions. Progressive I must say. Lets not even talk about Noida, its customary to have a rape a month over there, and as we have seen if women cant travel with their brothers or husbands safely, what will they travel alone?

I have almost never heard of a rape case in Mumbai and even down south it is pretty rare. Girls travel late into the night and are on the streets with minimum fear of their safety. Many may argue that a Mumbai doesn't have a volatile area like Gurgaon or Noida around and thus it is easier for the police, this may be true to a certain extent but then I would like to refer to Spiderman, with the great power that Delhi has of being the capital city of India, also comes great responsibility of protecting its citizens. Let us hope that the future is brighter and this city will boast of being safe for everyone.

The Stars

The stars gave a strange violet vibrance around them, as if something was amiss but yet they glowed to show their acceptance. They were right something had gone missing from their universe and family of stars. The moon wept, it was full, it was content, the tears both of happiness and grief.
The missing part was you, you had descended from the heavens and thus the sorrow, they had lost a great member, the gods were also overcome with sorrow, but how could they not do what had to be done, they had let go of their favorite angel. They had to make us meet, they had to make you and me “us”. The stars celebrated as we were on your roof, they had a clear view that you were in good hands. Yet they made the clouds thunder as if they wanted me to run away, but to no effect as I just wasn’t letting go, and they knew they were trying in vain to get you back, and as the your face shone in the moonlight, my heart was overjoyed and my brain brought down to tears, for it had once thought this would have never been. As I kissed your bedazzling eyes, I realized they once wept for I hadn’t been there when I should have. As you hugged me and kept your head on my shoulder and gently fell asleep, I couldn’t see your face but I felt it, it was calm, there was a smile, perhaps deep down in your slumber you were thinking about, what I always think about us. The moon shone at its brightest that night, as if it were competing with me, I apologized to it, I told him I know she comes from where you belong and she should be up there, but I just cant let her go even if I wanted to, she’s done some voodoo over me, thus I promise to keep her as happy as I can. Your smile when you woke up and looked into my eyes, it was enthralling. One look from you sweeps me off my feet, yet I don’t fall down, as if you’re my safety net and me your stuntman. Stuntman as I am happy to face all the dangers and let you steal the limelight of your moon. Then when we just sat with our backs against the wall, as I had all the time when you weren’t there, I finally let out a sigh of relief and said in a low breath 'Nidhi', as if I had won the battle against the stars to win you over, but then took a deep breath again, as another battle to keep you had begun, but I was ready, as ready as a Spartan warrior heading to war, but just without the shield, as my shield was in my heart.


Then I rose as time had come to leave, with one last look at your alluring face, I began to leave, the moon suddenly appeared closer, as if he wanted to take you away now that I was going, then I ferociously whispered to it “shes mine, back off”, that seemed enough to put him off for now. As the battle ahead lies to be fought.

Mothers

She is dramatic, you probably call her a drama queen, she is hysterical, she overreacts, she gets angry at you for what you think is no reason, well she is your mother. People say a mother’s love is greater than any other love, its probably true but we fail to realize it. In this article I shall shed some light upon certain factors such as how we treat our mom, how she gives us unconditional love, what she does for us and why we can’t live without her.

Our mom cleans our room, picks up our dirty clothes, in many cases makes us our meals. She is the official last resort mood maker and confidence booster. She gives us pep talk, she gives us peppier food. Not to mention we are too scared to ask our dad for money, so she funds our outings. We know that no matter what mistake we make, no matter how many times we fail, she will be there for us, she will advise us, but will not judge us. She will skip her work but will help us do our homework. She used to walk us to our bus stop every morning, carrying our heavy burden of knowledge on her shoulders. When we were aboard our bus and she walking back home, the only thing she was thinking about is probably whether we will like our Tiffin that she has prepared for us, for which we haven’t thanked her to date. She probably forgets to put ketchup with your burger, she didn’t mean to, don’t kill her for doing that when you get back home, by saying “what the hell mom? You don’t even know how to make Tiffin” probably even we didn’t mean it that way and we walk off, failing to realize that her heart is crying, for she then thinks, that she never gives you good food, which is clearly never the case. We come home from school or college and do not find food to our liking and we crib and throw a tantrum, but probably she made that food for our benefit, our health.

We grow up, we go out with our friends all the time, but never with our mom, and maybe even she wants to see a particular movie or visit a particular restaurant. We just ask her for cash and that’s about it. In certain cases we say really horrendous, things to our mothers and even when we know we are wrong. Sometimes she may slap us, and we think the heavens may have fallen down, she is your mom for heaven’s sake , she has every right to slap you. We owe her our life, she kept us in her womb for 9 months, she faced tremendous amount of pain and effort while we were in there. When we were young she stayed up all night so that we could sleep comfortably the least we can do is give her the respect she deserves. She gives us advice on issues in life and we think that she is nagging us and we snap back.

We should consider her point of view also, she manages us, our dad and our siblings among other people, and sometimes she too needs to vent out and we should get too angry if she screams at us for no reason whatsoever. We should know that no matter what we say or do to her or anyone else , she will always love us more than anyone else can, also we can’t live without her and we love her irrespective of what sometimes we may think. We should talk to her more politely, respect her more, do little things she asks for and this will mean the world to her. I hope I’ve changed mine and your mindsets a little. Your mother will have a great deal of trouble with you but I think she will enjoy it.

A Best Friend

I often ponder upon the question, that who is my 'best friend'? I even ask myself is the concept of a best friend even valid? It is. We always need this person in our life on who we can always depend upon, whether it be for fun, help, care or love, that person will be there for us.

A best friend is a person you can count on for anything. If you just desperately want to go out and have no money, you can call up this person and ask them to go out and you can tell them you have less money, then they most certainly will abuse the shit out of you, yet you will be laughing. If you don’t drive and want to go meet your girlfriend/boyfriend you can call this person and 90% of the times they will take you there. Speaking out of personal experience, if you can’t pay your bill at your own birthday, trust me they will go to the extreme to help you out. If you hear a creak outside your door at 11 in the night, you can most certainly be sure to keep this person up on the phone till 6 in the morning just because you are scared. This friend will not be afraid to tell you what they think of you, but they put it across in such a way that you don’t even mind it, you laugh it off. A best friend is a person in front of whom you have no qualms in being yourself, you can do a 'tapori' dance on 'apdi pode' or you can be highly sophisticated and just listen to The Doors or Queen. They may teach you how to drive, they may most certainly make sure they teach you how not to. You can abuse them all day long and still laugh it off, but if anyone else does he isn’t seeing daylight again! You may fight with them and may never want to talk to them again, but you also know you are fooling yourself. If you need them, or even if you don’t and just want to talk to them they will make sure they leave everything and anything they are doing just to text you, they will cancel with anyone else just to be with you. They will be the ones who will take your case the worst, but they will be the ones that make sure that no one else does. Most of their major plans will most definitely include you.

Another misconception that exists is there being only one best friend, that is utter rubbish but then also is the concept of you having 4-5 best friends. I have more than one, but almost all of us need at least one such person, who is literally a call away. Even if the chaos of life takes you thousands of miles and a dozen time zones away, you can still call them and talk to them about your worries, and they’ll understand as if they were right beside you all throughout. Remember you never have catching up to do with your best friend(s).

Never mistrust this person for it is more shameful to distrust a friend than to be deceived by them. Remember if you fight that everyone deserves a second chance. Don’t hold grudges too long, if you haven’t spoken in a while, make the call, its never ever too late.

Always remember a true friend is one who walks in, when the world walks out, and that this person can die for you, literally.

A Relationship

You meet her, you like her, she likes you, you ask her out, she says yes, you hug, you kiss, you talk on the phone for long hours, you hang out, you get mushy. I guessed I summed up a “serious” relationship? Absolutely not! Here’s why.

The reason why many relationships simply run out of steam is because they overdo the above. After a certain point it gets a little too much for one of the partners and sometimes even both. It certainly doesn't pan out like  "OK, I can’t get more mushy, so bye bye." The above reasons are hidden under the clouds of typical fights, which subconsciously occur, because of nothing more substantial to talk about, than I love you. (Which also, you don’t mean anymore)

When we are in a serious relationship with someone, we are officially theirs and they ours. A prominent part of a serious relationship are the above, however they most certainly aren't the only part my friend. In addition to being a good boyfriend/girlfriend you most certainly have to be a good friend to the person. You have to counsel and guide them, when you think they falter, without the fear of them not liking it, or labeling you daddy. When they need you, you be there for them no questions asked, you ditch any plan that you have, even if your friends feel bad you just ditch it. However understand the difference between when they want you and when they need you. When they want you, you still can sometimes ditch and make time for them, just so they feel nice, but if you have something important to do you do that, when they need you, whatever you have on your hands plays second fiddle. When they are going through a really tough time, console them, cheer them up, and don’t be too judgmental even if you think they need it. Save it for later. If they are rude to you when they go through a tough time, just smile back, tell them you love them, they don’t mean what they say, they shall realize later, at that moment those three words mean the world to them, and in case of a girl, it means more than a box of the finest swiss chocolate, for a guy it means even more.

When you fight, be sure you stand up for your point, but understand the others point as well. Take serious warnings from the fight, but never take the fight too seriously. If they say they never want to talk to you again, be worried, but not too worried. If you fight with your sister and you don’t talk for a month or maybe even two, you can jolly well fight with them and not speak, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll get around it. If it’s your fault you better well make it up. If it’s their fault, they will realize it. Sometimes even when it’s not and you make it up, it’s really nice and well cute. But seriously if you expected to date someone for a long time without getting into a serious fight, you are dating Alice and living in her wonderland. Apologize first; it’s not that big a deal, really. Especially for guys, being rude to your girl and raising your voice, is not legit! In any situation! And raising your hand, it’s just sick. Even if she has committed the biggest crime possible. Respect your girl, like you would your mom, its cliche, but like most clichés it’s true.

Okay, coming to the next part. The physical relationship is an important part of any relationship. Never go too fast, it just isn't right, plus then you have nothing to look forward to. Always remember in this part of the relationship (like all others) the girl is the boss. If she is comfortable with what you’re doing, well great! But if she says no, please control your charged up testosterone and refrain. Don’t get too angry, if she said she’s yours, she will be physically too, just give her, her time. Always make her feel comfortable around you, even generally.

Make something for them once in a while, they feel really nice and then so do you. Trust me this s**t works this way. Even if it isn’t something you bought, just something you made, with that you are making their day. It could be a cheap ring, an expensive dress, a calendar of your favorite team or just a cute drawing.

Give them their space. They have a life. Have trust in them, if they said they love you, they only love you. Becoming a bit possessive is natural and I think needed, don’t overdo it. If you become jealous, its nice, you realize their value. Keep a check on them. Do not stalk them.

Do your share of fun with them. Sing crazy songs, do crazy stuff, take a random bus to some place. Walk for long distances, tell them how you can’t tell them how much they mean to you.

Remember, no relationship can work without compromise and sacrifice, it just can’t. Both big and little compromises have to be made. It could mean not taking up a good job in a far away city, or guys just missing your weekly pilgrimage to the television set, to watch football. It could mean, going shopping with your girl and not understanding shit of what she is doing, or going with your guy, to watch his favorite superhero flick, and not understanding shit of it. It could mean, sacrificing on your sleep just to talk to them because they just want to. It could mean using the money you saved to buy a football jersey, to take them out for dinner. It could even mean, if they text come over, just leaving whatever you’re doing without thinking twice. All this has to stick. Remember, there will be ups and downs, its for you to roll along the downs, so that when you’re on top, you can enjoy the view together.

I would like to end by quoting Maroon 5

“it’s not always rainbows and butterflies, it’s compromise that moves us along”

Summer

It is the month of may and summer has well and truly arrived. As I’m typing, this widget on my pc shows the maximum temperature at 43 for today. So, from a relatively prolonged winter the heat has truly turned on.

I was wondering why all the great poets laid great emphasis on the passing of winter and the coming of summer. They said it brings great hope, happiness, change and beauty. But the question is, does that statement still hold true in today’s modern world? It does.

   Summer always brings about change in our lives, irrespective of the way. It could be us promoted to the next grade in school, it could be us not promoted to the next grade, both accompanied with a certain kind of excitement. If we pass out from school, it reflects our entering college life, which always has a certain 'feel good factor' about it. Whether it still holds after college life begins is an entirely different matter. It thus, brings about new friends, a new admission in your class in school, or you being the new admission in the college. If you are a child or even a teenager and like outdoor activities, then summer is the time of the year for you. When you are in junior school, you go to play everyday however  this want of playing has to be increasingly sacrificed in middle and senior school to accommodate a more 'important' schedule which includes tuitions for the most part of it. However whether in the first grade or twelfth grade, the coming of the summer holidays simply means you resume playing again, whether it be gully cricket or football or basketball,  they all mean only one thing called enjoyment! The satisfaction of getting your best friend out or smashing him for a six can be replaced by nothing, nothing. Even if the temperature is simmering at 48. Colleges also give over around the month of may-june and thus this time becomes the one for family vactions, daily hang outs with friends and pondering whether to do the holiday homework or not.

   The giving over of colleges implies one more major source of joy! After we pass out from school the only thing that dampens the excitement of college life is separating with your school friends, as they all travel to different parts of the country or even the world.  The coming of summer however means that they all come back home and its really nice to see the special ones after such a long time. You can hang out as you used to, do crazy stuff, (which in my case was just walking from PVR Naraina to Satya Niketan with Nidhi and Avani). There are some special things (which again in my case walking), that you just want to do with those special people and don’t want them doing the same with other people. You can sneak out at night in a friend’s car where obviously, you’ll be paying the price for fuel.

Other things also bring about a smile on people’s faces - going to India gate to have ice-cream, going on a school trip, almost anything you do gives you joy and the stress factor is minimal. This for me at least, is the best time of the year, when you can meet old friends and make new ones. Follow the "hakuna matata" motto. In summer no matter how high the heat you are always upbeat!