a moment.

I havent written in ages. Like more than a year. So much has happened, time has flown and after the moment has passed, I don’t feel like writing as a piece of nostalgia. Nostalgia is so dangerous. The rosy colour it gives to every incident, kind of softens the magnitude of the actual moments … But what bothers me is that when I reflect on what I have learned from the past. Past is always some guru right? So I am supposed to have learned a good lesson. I am not here to rant about how I haven’t learned any, so let me dig into something that I want to look forward to. So in retro I should reference between the future and the past. I sound ridiculous. However, that’s how I sound these days, after writing pages on sustainability. It’s all smoke up there, friend, all smoke. Not Ganja though!

I visited India in June and stayed there for 7 weeks. The visit was after 2 loooong years. People always ask me in wonder how I managed to stay away from home so long. Well, when you are in state of hibernation from your reality, it is how long you can stay so is the question. So when I got home, the reality came down on me like a big bucket of ice cold water - crashing on me, leaving my brain to figure out the worst.

The reality is not about my joblessness or about my singledom or my family or so. The reality is how much I hated every minute in Bangalore. I hated when people stared at my boobs (I had become so scrawny, despite that!!!), made vulgar comments, about the vast disparity of lives, the vagueness, the crowd, the dust, “the everything” which was a part of my very life. What surprised me, hurt me all the more.. that I realized I wanted to get far away from my reality. Far away. I used to date this guy for a while before I left. We were friends who move to a different sphere.. however, when I met him on my return, he was absolutely sleazy. My phirang life was supposed to normalize sleaziness I guess, according to his calculations. I have never regretted being born as a woman. Guess my parents never created that kind of a void in my life. However, the struggles of a woman in our society are amazing. So the moment I had to travel home or anywhere, the shackles were back in place. I felt very sad. Its an unfair world and nothing is equal. I still believe in God, but I guess we all belong to some kind of an elaborate lab experiment and Mr Almighty is definitely taking notes. But nothing is equal and every day he gets to see how the diverse system works, assuming this fucking life is a system. I refuse to give up my sense of freedom, yet I feel that people like me and you owe to the masses of India. I travelled to a few villages and just 50 km out of Bangalore, and life has gone a century back. Oh yeah, they all colour TVs. They were poor, yet not poor enough because they lived by a certain standard. But soon, even that equilibrium will be broken by policies, economies, changing weather... and then who cares. I guess the caste-class system which has run centuries in our blood and culture has created these walls in us by which we can easily blind ourselves from others pain. He is poor so naturally he suffers. What can I do? The govt should have taken care, right? Yeah and we all know how corrupt the govt is. So we wash our hands - Corrupt govt and poor people. Do I sound like their saviour? Oh no! Buddy no! I want to be a researcher, so that I can write pages about their pain, but not struggle with them. How vague is that?!