Right to Life of Choice

"Her philosophy of life was that she might die any moment. But the tragedy, she said, was that she didn't." - I don't know who said that or why, I just find it relevant, and thats enough.

There are things I need to do. Apart from sending him the draft for a request for sponsorship I should be drinking loads of water and green tea and need to get the following piece of latest information out of my mind:

Just yesterday I heard that one of my mother's cousin had her daughter engaged to this guy in Canada who had not even completed his high-school and earns a living by driving a delivery truck. The only possible excuse for this is my Aunt wants her daughter to have a secure future which includes doing the dishes, laundry and all the house chores with a Masters degree in Software engineering for a guy who can hardly talk sense in one straight sentence but lift weight like a chimpanzee.

Our parents still live in an age where they think they are doing the best for their beloved children but this love blinds them to a hurtful extent. I'm sure my mother's Cousin didn't even ask her daughter if she was okay with the Canadian-guy or if she had someone else in mind at all. Even more tragic part of the story is  that the girl didn't raise her voice against the injustice and has excepted it has fate. So much for the 'Bachiyon ko aala taleem dilwayein'

Now coming to even more pressing issue. My phopho, lately has been calling my mum up and feeding her with the lame bullshit that the divorce rates are high because of the internet (which according to my Aunt is limited to social networking sites such as Facebook or emails only). She says: "ujj kal pehle maa baap viyah tey ker dinday ney par jadd kurriyan aglaai khaar jaandiyan ney tey admi unnaa'an dey facebook tey yaar deekh dey ney fayr talaaqan hondiyaan ney." (The parents find the best matches for their girls but the girls are married off and the husband finds out about her facebook male friends the marriage abruptly ends in divorce). So much for the best matches. These men (newly wed husbands) are from the same mind sets as my Phopho and others from her generation. Not everyone on facebook friend list is a boyfriend and not all girls think that the matches parents find for them are the best. (I hate breaking the ice here for my phopho).

One of my Aunts (Yes I know I have a twisted family) thinks that marriages should only take place between people who belong to the same caste. Sigh. I don't know how and why she has this obsessive compulsive disorder and what religious facts she has gathered to back up her theory. Its only mind boggling to be a part of a family that has such serious intentions of fouls against their own baby girls. And the highlight of the problem is, its always the mothers and aunts that support these lame ideas.

Its frustrating and hard to fight but girls, stand up for your life. You own it. Your parents have (no doubts about it) sacrificed a lot for you but they shouldn't be the ones snatching your right to life of personal choice.

The Ugly Reality They Call Life

Everything doesn't always have to make sense - I have to keep reminding myself of that.

When I last met my friends for dinner and they had "Sheila ki Jawani" playing in the longue and I said, "I hate that song" And one of them said, "Well you have to admit its catchy."

Now had I been the girl who shuts up once someone raises an opinion against mine, the matter would've been settled. 

I responded, "Its a plague and its catchy, that doesn't make it fucking good."

That left her speechless and left me at peace. But that also left me one friend less, again.

But then their is my life. I want to scream for help. Send out multiple signals for help. I'm only rude to people because they're mean to me or they'll be once I don't be rude to them. I've a right to life too. Or do I? I've never really allowed many people past my walls. I'm the kind of a girl who'll pretend that nothing matters while my heart can be exploding with everything that does. Most of my thoughts and mind power is consumed with only one thought all day, everyday - "Focus! Don't let them see you cry."

I'm not making much sense. But I am to myself.

Hope can do wonders, even tiniest bit of it. I'm hoping one day I'll fit into the definition of pretty for this society and then I'll be allowed to survive without being hurtfully questioned.

Sentence me to another life

I've had a long tiring life. After everything I've been through, I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone. I like listening to the music alone and I like walking home alone. I've been on my own for soo long that being around people makes me uncomfortable. I hate crowded places and noise. When I see a happy family in a car, a girl with a boy holding hands, friends laughing over something, I realize that even though I like being alone but I don't fancy being lonely.