27 November 2006

An Eye for an Eye, the Finger for Defense

My mum has been trying to inject into my head for a while now, about the ‘joy of morning walks’… Every article about exercise, restricting food, not succumbing to temptation, morning walk, calorie watch and the like piles up on my table everyday. One fine day, Harini decides to explore the ‘joy’, I made an impulsive purchase of really expensive Nike shoes, tracks and tees. Now, that’s supposed to be a pushing factor…!

With all my newly acquired accessories, I set out for walks every morning like a happy little puck, with my mum in a park nearby. Listening to the radio, watching people around, listening to the birds chirp, gardeners watering plants, stray dogs sniffing around… It was a different experience altogether, leaving me rejuvenated and afresh for the rest of the day…

However, today was different. Painfully different. After a horrible night’s disturbing, half baked sleep, I reluctantly pulled myself out of the bed… Just one of those i-don’t-feel-good-today kinda days… My mum dragged me for the walk and pooh. This is how it goes. Two rounds of brisk walk and I feel a little better.. Just then, there was this corporation boy in a blue shirt who yelled “What the hell do you think of yourself?” Loud enough for me to turn back and look. His eyes were blood red. He snapped his fingers and pointed at me and said again “You! What the hell do you think of yourself”. I was nonplussed. I ignored and walked on… He ran past me and stood right in front of me. He folded his tongue, his eyes dissecting me from top to toe and he said “What, what?!” I showed him the finger and walked on… the ego-crushed soul vomited all the foul words that he knew in tamil. There was another man, watching this happen… He was in the other extreme. He kept giving me sheepish grins, and to my worst horror, I realized he was treating himself to glory. His mouth and his organ, drooling profusely. Completely disgusted, I ran out of there, looked for my mum and rushed my way back home. Home sweet home.

WHAT do men get outta stalking women? I wish I could shove a needle up that drooler’s trunk and hammer a nail on the boy’s throat. Agreed, women can be bitches. But NO. They don’t stoop down to the level of harassing a man. Every woman has that little dignity which these men lack in totality. We still live in a man’s world, don’t we?

26 November 2006


Life without cat, mat, xat, rat, pat,
Life without being stubby and fat,
Life without a gunny bag full of projects to do,
Life without a backache, headache, tummyache,
Life without k, g, psv, r, s ma’am,
Life without mind-numbing classes,
Life without pages of brain-teasers to solve,
Life without having to compete with 2 lakh whizzes to find myself a place to breathe,
Life without having the need to rumble my pea-sized brain to do math,
Life without psyching myself to traverse the horse’s path...
But life’s not easy afterall, is it?!