We bomb down civilian planes, shoot in theaters, schools, concert halls, hotels and hospitals.
We kill, maim, thinking that’s the way a point has to be put across. We kill people to protest against killing other people.
We silence, wound, orphan and widow.
We find guns more useful than words.
Bullets more useful than thoughts.
Blood more useful than ink.
We shun peace.
We encourage hatred.
We witness 9/11, 26/11 and the likes.
We witness kids less that 10 being killed in places they called their second home.
We still ignore.
We are Paris, Peshawar, Beirut, Mumbai, new York, Boston, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and anywhere else that someone has to worry whether he’ll come home safe.
We’re the world.

On weddings.

So my mother, (sorta like Kris Jenner but way way smarter) made this statement yesterday while we were at a wedding that in a wedding or a funeral you mustn’t hold a personal grudge against anyone (including the dude who spilt dal makhni on your dress).

I’ve always been a fan of weddings, Good food, you get to wear Indian stuff you barely get to wear anywhere else, hot guys (may the odds ever be in your favor), pretty decorations and stuff, and most importantly (for me at least) the emotions, the relations and the feelings.

In the movie 27 dresses there is this certain thing on how the lead female always likes to look at the poor groom while the pretty bride make her entry. I being me decided to try it out, and when the bride made her entry while doing the walk of red lehengas and phoolon ka chadhar to that song which has been stuck in my head for the past 20 minutes the dudes face glowed like a million light bulbs (or maybe it was just the lightning) and that even though there were 300 people out there 3% of them beside him and his neck must have been hurting cause he had been wearing this money garland. Like if it were me in his shoes (which were soon to e stolen) I’d roll up my sleeves, call it a day and start watching Kanan Gill. FUN!!

Apart from the bride and groom (OBVIOUSLY!) a wedding has many other factors, most importantly clothes, or basically overly embezzled pieces of taffeta and net! And let me assure you, going underdressed for a wedding (I’m talking less sequins on your skirt) is worse than getting less marks than bobby ka beta, or having a less expensive car than your neighbor, or being dark skinned. (in my country darkness is a dark dark sin, and I’m guilty). Basically, you go to a wedding to dress up. Not dress up for a wedding, and once you’ve dolled up you compare. Compare yourself with other people. Compare your cut colour and shape, compare your length (or lack therefore) and compare how many sequins are there in one square centimeter of fabric.

One of my most favorite aspects was that families were together. There was this little photo session going on with kids and their nana-nani’s , dada-dadi’s and the millions of relatives from around the world. And it was cute. It made me miss my family. It make me take a selfie with my mother. It doused me in love.

And that the general feel in the air was of love, of relationships and of family and of good food.

I like weddings. You can invite me for yours.

Lullaby for a myna

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A pretty smile, Chinki eyes,

Beautiful hair and a brain better than me.

A shoulder to sleep on,

Rebellious she may be.

But with a captain badge to bare,

May I say that’s pure irony.

 

The tiniest of the lot and the most mature,

Change is her, responsibility she is.

Perfectly poised, with good clothes to wear,

Talkative as a myna.

I can see your halo, pretty one,

Shining in the sun.

 

A heart of platinum,

Rare yet precious.

I can swear all heads turn,

Because she is beauty and brains mixed into one.

Little chunk of perfection,

Smart is she.

And she goes admiring lesser mortals,

Humble be she.

 

One of the four,

She stands out.

Not for her beauty, nor her brains, or her grace,

More like because that is what,

Everyone works for.

Little ann ban,

Don’t you worry bae

I’ll be there for you.

For Tibet

There once was a nation,
strong and proud,
paradise on Earth,
Shangrila it was called.

Ruled by the Dalai Lama,
The people were free.
They had their identity,
their own country…

Then one day, they weren’t free,
Fled to the countries around
And so they stay to this day,
taking in a new identity
of a new nation state
Their leader,
a representative of their God,
having to move,
far away from his true home
maybe, never return.

One day may tibet be free
a proud nation
let it have its own pride, in its people
represented at the Olympics,
and where so ever it may desire.
one day, may Tibet be free

May Democracy win.

For those who are regular with the news, they would know about the on-going protests in Ukraine demanding closer integration with Europe and resignation of the Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovych. These protests have in fact turned violent with about 9 people dying, thousands injured and many detained or sentenced.
Being a political sciences student and having witness the Egyptian revolution, Libyan revolution and closer to home the protest demanding justice for nirbhaya, the December 17th rape victim, I have the feeling that all is not wrong in the world. People are ready to stand up for all that is right and oppose all that is wrong.
Ukraine, Syria and any other country in the world my good wises are with you. May democracy win.
Sitara
Note. The views expressed are of my own. Images have been taken from the internet.