Dear World,

I do things the way I do them because that is who I am, and will always be.

I am not very social and I don’t have a massive amount of friends because it is who I am, and I am content with the people I have in my life. I choose to spend most of my time indoors, because being outdoors is not something I fancy too much. I dwell in Literature and T.V. shows because they give me ample amounts of happiness, and fill the dark void of loneliness.  I write a journal so I can remember everyday of my life, good or bad. I repeat my meals because they leave me with a filled up stomach, and a reason to smile. I know squat about my religion, yet I pray each morning, so the ray of hope remains lit up in me. I cry often because it makes me feel less miserable. I wear zero make up and often have an awfully mismatched outfit, because clothes don’t matter a single bit to me. I tell silly jokes and don’t mind being the subject of people’s jokes, because it makes the people around me happy. I have done things I am not particularly proud of, and they’ve taught me to be a better person, friend, daughter and sibling. I’ve defeated expectations, and I’ve been defeated by expectations. I’ve been called names and I’ve called people names, because our world is a judgmental labyrinth. I have an unrealistic list of aspirations so I have something to work towards. 

I am my parents’ 20 year old, my siblings’ Oompa Loompa, and my friends’ Pat, Meers and Meera. 

I am only human, so give me a break.

Yours truly, 

A thinker, a dreamer and a listener. 

Haiku – Several Hopeful Attempts

The leaves are falling

Burying the empty roads

A friendship is born

 

The boats engine roars

As it glides across the river

The fish have risen

 

The clouds have gathered

The sky has begun to pour

Homeless search for warmth

 

The sun is shining

Brightness kisses the planet

The scars have faded

 

The tea is steaming

Beneath the golden saucer

Charlie is in love

 

Mother takes a drag

Smoke flutters across the room

Our lips unite

 

Strumming your guitar

Sing me incredible songs

Reading is healthy 

Duty Calls

Dear Baby,

You’ve been with me for eight months now. I feel you inside me each day; nothing makes me happier than when you kick. Baby, it’s winter now and the snow is beginning to fall, the best thing about the winter is Christmas, and the best thing about Christmas is the Carols. The Carols, they make me smile, they give me hope. I always need reminding of hope. I’ve been quite weak since your Papa left, but Baby, I promise to be strong for you, to be a warrior.

I still haven’t heard from your Papa, but I know he is somewhere out there, brave as a lion, keeping the Country safe and longing to come home. The Lord will keep your Papa safe. Baby, your Papa is a fearless man, he fights with grace. Your Papa was strong when they took your Uncle; Papa’s twin. Papa smiled and told me, he is watching us from above.

The enemy is getting stronger, my Baby. It is getting difficult to leave the hut, I have to be careful when going to Ms. Elizabeth’s now. Oh yes, I still do the cleaning, it’s all for you, my child, all for you. They blew up the local School last week, our neighbour lost two children, I am terrified, but I trust the Lord. There are days when I wish I could keep you inside me, just so that I know you are safe and away from the dangers this world holds, but Baby I know that is not possible.

Baby, when you are part of this world I want you to be brave, I want you to face this world and to stand up for what you believe in. Baby, I want you to grow, to discover, and to explore the hidden beauty of this world, oh to explore. I wanted to be an explorer, but I gave up too quickly. Baby, don’t ever give up, you fall, I want you to get back up again, you fall again, I want you to get back up again and I want you to keep getting back up, even if your knees are sore and bleeding. I want you to live your dream baby. Cause I know it’s possible and Baby, trust the Lord, no matter what.  

I have to go now, its 6 AM and duty calls.

I love you, my Baby. I love you so much.

Mamma.

What is a relationship?

Movies and books and T.V. shows. The influence they have on relationships are truly indescribable  I often find people wishing for a relationship like Rachel and Ross and the likes. Relationships to different people mean different things. To some people it is to fill in the void of loneliness and to others it is consent to part take in sexual activities. To some people it is a beautiful, heartfelt experience and to others it is an important part of life that requires going through.

Relationships to me are but a label, a mere name given to the bondage between two people that care about each other. A significance given to two people that enjoy each other’s company and are attracted to one another, in someway or another. An identification that leads to complications and worry.

The way I see it, once you are bound by someone, once you have officially made your significant other, your significant other, things tend to get out of hand. Expectations are increased and rules are set. Yes, yes the individual understands you and knows everything about you. Yes, you would happily spend ample amounts of time with them. Yes, they are your first port of call for any sort of situation. Yes, you love them to bits. Yes, they are your Saturday nights and Monday mornings. But then what? What happens when you start expecting things from one another? What happens when the love begins to fade? What happens when boundaries are set? What about when you have to stop being yourself, just because your significant other would be happy? That is one thing I fail to understand. Why put a label to something when you could have the exact same experience with someone without the label?

I hope to understand the sole reason behind relationships one day, but for now, I am content. I am happy that I am not bound by a single person.

Another major question I have is – if you truly care about that person, why would risk losing them by merely labeling the relationship?

Is abortion ethical?

Abortion is one of the most talked about topics in my friend’s circle. Each one of us, like most people, have our own views on whether or not abortion is ethical.

When I was still in High School and the question of ethics came up, my mind immediately replayed the teachings of my family. Having grown up in a family that disapproves activities such as dating while still in school, the consumption of meat and alcohol, premarital sex and interracial marriages, it occurred me to soon enough the abortion would be out of the question. However, growing up made me question the ethics that were whispered over and over again into my ear as a young girl. I began to think whether dating was really such a major thing. I thought about how alcohol abuse, if done in moderation, is really that bad. I thought and I shared. I shared with peers, with teachers and with my family. With each person, I got varied responses and views. But then I thought for myself. What is it that I think? What are my thoughts on abortion? Premarital sex? Alcohol Consumption? My views on each one of them was somewhat different to the other. This, topic being about abortion, I am going to focus on that.

Abortion. Probably the biggest and most courageous step taken by a female. Abortion is no child’s play. Abortion is the difficult bit. Now the actual question, is it ethical? Yes and no. People that know me will often find that I never have one view. Anyway, yes when it is solely the woman’s decision. Yes because, I believe to raise a child in this world, you have got to want to raise one and not have to raise one. I believe abortion is morally correct as, when decided by the female, it is an act of honesty. And what better ethic do we have to offer in this world than honesty? Yes, because if a woman is not ready, she is not ready. She may be branded selfish or a sinner, but this life is hers to live, and if she does not want a child, she does not want a child. Yes, when there is a complication in the pregnancy or a risk to the mother’s life. And finally, yes, when the female was impregnated by rape.

No, when it is forced upon her. When it is decided by the female’s family or partner.  For instance, in India, where women that are impregnated with girls are forced to have an abortion. That is morally incorrect, for the body in which the baby is developing belongs to the woman, and hence the decision should be made by no one but the woman. And lastly, no, when the abortion is not medically possible.

As I read upon my views, I notice that some of my views contradict with one another, such as the decision being solely of the female. This could mean, when a married couple accidentally get pregnant, and the female wishes to have an abortion where as the male wishes for her to carry on with the pregnancy. I am quite unsure how I would tackle such a question, just yet.

For now, these are views and I am absolutely certain they will change plenty as time passes, like most my views do.

Let’s say the question were, would I get an abortion? I know for a fact that I can not do it. If, however, I was in the situation of getting an abortion, and still unmarried. I would do it, I would muster up the courage solely for my family’s dignity. I would have the abortion for them. This again, contradicts with my view on it being the female’s decision. However, if  I were married and my husband did not want the baby, I would demand a divorce and raise the child on my own.

Dear Asaram Bapu,

Yet again the girl is put at blame. Why? Cause she boarded the bus at midnight and the men were drunk. There was a way to stop it – she should have begged and prayed and not boarded the bus at midnight.

Tell me ‘Bapu’, would you rather she walked the streets at midnight, which any human being would consider more unsafe? Do you not think she prayed and begged till she grew tired? Are you really going to use alcohol as an excuse? Very well then, I am going to set a few men to severely torture you and then claim that they were drunk. I am then going to state that you should have begged and prayed, I mean you are a ‘Bapu’ and all. Praying should come naturally to you, isn’t it? Doesn’t sound too appealing does it now, ‘Bapu’? Also, ‘Bapu’, would your remarks be the same if it were your daughter, niece or even wife? I am guessing not. Tell me, ‘Bapu’, does the Bhagvad Gita not teach us to treat all people as equals? Why then do you blame this girl? Also, ‘Bapu’ does the Bhagvad Gita forbid the consumption of alcohol? Why then are you supporting it with so much confidence? How does it feel ‘Bapu’? To have enraged so many people who thought so highly of you? ‘Bapu’, I don’t even know you and you have caused me such anger and sadness. 

I am surprised and enraged by the remarks this ‘Bapu’ gave. I didn’t even know who he was till today. But from what I know, a person is often called ‘Bapu’ when they are devotees of God. And the fact that these words came from a devotee of God, sickens me to my very core. How he dared to utter those words, I can not fathom. The way I look at the whole situation is that, he is as pathetic and as cowardly as those rapists. And he most definitely does not deserve to be called ‘Bapu’. Why pray so much? Why preach so much? When you’re going to turn around and stab the whole system like so? I am currently studying the Bhagvad Gita and although I haven’t gotten into the in depth bits, I have come across parts that stress human equality and fairness. This ‘Bapu’ seems to have forgotten that while saying those disgust filled words. Now if you’re wondering what this has to go to do with human equality and fairness, I’ll tell you how I see it. The men did wrong, they did terrible, the girl was vulnerable and an innocent passenger in a night bus, and hence the men should be punished oh so brutally. This, in my eyes brings about human equality and fairness.

I have grown sick of how lightly people take situations like these. It worries me that someone so respected (apparently) would utter such things. It depresses me that I can’t do anything about it, except pray for such people to be punished and shunned from any respect.

[My letter to Asaram Bapu; written a week ago, after his pathetic comments.]

My name is Ken

A seller at the Maasai Market today asked me whether I was a journalist (no) I answered that I was just cause I deeply want to be one.

He told me he wants his story out in print and on the radio. He told me how he works hard to create all his art work and how long it takes. He pointed out all his art work that lay on the ground and urged I purchase some of it. He said I should write about more people and that he would introduce me to more people to write about. He said its never too late for me to follow my dreams. My heart grew bigger and bigger with each word of his encouragement. I told him I’d take a picture of him and his art work. I took a picture of his helper, brother or partner, I’m not sure which. Then he told me I should accompany him to where he is from and kept getting hold of my hand and shoulder each time my attention was diverted and that’s when paranoia kicked in. Pervert, rapist, murderer rushed through my mind all at once. I know he must have been a genuine person trying to get help from a journalist but I got really nervous, particularly cause I’m reading a book on sexual abuse. My paranoia grew when he came closer to me and said I should come see him next Friday so that we can go on that trip.

Even though I was nervous and so goddamn paranoid, the experience was pretty good. I’ve always longed to meet people and take pictures of them and then write about them. I’m also a strong believer of ‘everyone you meet teaches you something’. I later realized he is just a single person in a tiny area of a pretty medium sized City, that’s in a pretty average sized Country, that’s in quite a big Continent, that’s part of a really huge Earth!

I have this strong desire to travel the world. I want to be a traveler.  I want to be a journalist. 

[This occurred four months ago, in Nairobi, Kenya. After this day, I was absolutely certain that I wanted to pursue my dreams and ambitions of being a journalist and world traveler. This is taken from my Tumblr page.]

I’ll Be There For You

Ever watched a show or a film that you have fallen in love with? Ever read a book and thought, wow, this is incredible? That is exactly how I felt when I watched the T.V, Show Friends. The characters, the story line and the relevance to real life is utterly brilliant. I have been watching Friends back to back for about 3 years now, and have I grown sick of it? No. not at all. So I sat in bed one day wondering what I could do to show my love and gratitude towards the show. Then an idea popped into my mind. So I gathered pieces of paper, my D-SLR and a pen. My art skills aren’t grand, but I drew out the theme song and put it together, to make a film. It was incredibly fun and a brilliant way to pass time. So, here’s to the laughter, tears, love and banter brought to us by Chandler, Joey, Monica, Phoebe, Rachel and Ross.

The Woman in the Red Coat

It’s been snowing all day today. I don’t think I have experienced such an incredible snowfall since I moved to the UK. There are notices in all Underground stations in London, warning us about the adverse weather conditions. Trains are experiencing delays, the public is gravely alert with each step, and the traffic is extremely slow. My day, however, has been extremely peculiar yet memorable.

As I was at Canning Town station, exiting the DLR from Stratford City, there was a woman. She was about 4’9 and relatively skinny. She wore a bright red coat, a black hat and tiny glasses with an off-brown reflection to them. She walked with such grace and confidence that I remained transfixed for a minute or two. I looked away as I stepped onto the slippery escalator that would later lead me to my platform. I eyed the station and no one seemed to strike my attention, as the woman in the red coat did. I darted my eyes towards the woman again and caught her mumbling to herself, and soon enough, there was a smile upon my face. A smile, because it occurred to me that this is what makes London so remarkable. The poise that people muster to speak to themselves even though they are well aware that there are dozens of people watching, is truly marvelous. Having lived in diverse areas of the world and having experienced plenty of incidents, this one has been genuinely notable. But then again, I have an eye for what is odd and often seen as nonsensical or idiotic.

The Casual Vacancy

I bought the book a few weeks ago but I never got around to reading properly till yesterday afternoon and I basically finished it an hour or two ago. Anyway, I’d browsed through a couple of internet reviews and my friends had told me how it was an uninteresting book and stuff. And fair enough, each person has their own views and I genuinely respect that.

Anyway, as I was reading the book and those of you that have read it will obviously know that they are loads of characters in the book. I’m not going to lie, initially I found it hard to keep up with who was who, but as I went along, they became clearer. Anyway, as I finished the book and jumped into the shower my mind flooded with thoughts about the time I read Harry Potter (now I know I shouldn’t be comparing the two and stuff, but hear me out). So, I kept thinking about when I read Harry Potter and how I was awestruck by the story and by how J.K. Rowling created it, you know the entire fictional world and all. The story was what had made me fall in love with the books. I remember staying up late at night and reading just so I could get to the next book, just because of the story.

Anyway, then I thought of The Casual Vacancy, personally, I thought the story was pretty mediocre. Oh! Anyone would have thought of that. But I was still awestruck and amazed by the book. Why? It was because of the way it was written. I was amazed at how she managed to so cleverly make nearly all characters lives intervene with one another. How all the characters were so diverse and somewhat relateable. Just the way she’d written it made me think about her cleverness once again. Yes, the story was mediocre but the writing, the way she had thought it out, that was pretty brilliant. (Not to forget the heartbreaking unexpected end). That’s what made me disagree with the reviews. This is just the way I feel about it, and I am often said to be the one that sees things rather differently.

Now, I don’t know if you’re thinking, well you idiot what’s the difference between a story and the way it is written. I’m not sure how to explain it my self. But in my head, there’s an entire universe between the two.