Someone Up There Has Got a Bad Sense of Humour

When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.
-Paulo Coelho in The Alchemist

When you don't get something, all the universe conspires in mocking you.
-Shwetha

It is easy to dismiss this as mere coincidence but with the number of times I have run into information eyeing you with a mix of mock disdain and pity, you can't turn a blind eye. Everything I hear and see seems to be about travelling.


I love travelling and the love stems from my curiosity for new cultures rather than new places. So while for some, travelling implies checking out a new area or a new mall, for me, the definition is to set off exploring a place culturally different from the ones I have visited before.


First, the television kept broadcasting shows in which the skinny host waxed eloquent about the destination. I diligently avoided the travel channels but to my misfortune,even the news channels were party to my ragging with the prime airtime dedicated to plump and pimply television stars visiting shrines with picturesque scenery adoring the background.


Being an avid reader(bookworm sounds geeky so won't be using the term for myself), three newspapers drop heavily inside my home to be received eagerly by a restless me. But nowadays, I dread to open the pages because they are flooded with snaps of postcard-perfect locations. As if that was not enough, some newspapers run weekly pull-outs dedicated exclusively to travel. Not amusing. Not amusing at all.


I have now started receiving SMS ads like "Trip to Srinagar for just Rs. 29,999!!" and "Visit the hottest destination this season- Andaman and Nicobar islands. Contact blah". How the hell did they know about my dream destinations? And they got the cheek to message and lure me with dreamy holiday SMSes. Grrrrr.


If that was not enough,strangers swoop down on me and vomit details of some overseas trip they undertook recently while I squirm uncomfortably, wishing for a moment, that I was deaf. And blind too, when I see them post pretty snaps on Facebook.


So what is the problem, you ask? Company, I say. Correction- good company. While I wait for my joining date, the people whom I consider good company have started working with a gruelling nine-to-five schedule. I am pretty sympathetic to their condition and don't have enough heart to deprive them of weekends reserved for catching up on much needed slumber.


Solo trips are a fancy idea, but they are just that- fancy, not practical. I can't expect my parents to fish out a generous sum to sponsor some crazy solo trip of their graduated-but-not-yet-started-working daughter. As parents, I do not expect them to throw caution to the winds and bid me adieu at the railway station while their daughter goes out alone. Though I believe the situation might have been different if I was of opposite gender. Sigh.


I can still cope with the feeling of being static and passive and somehow, grudgingly, accept the fact that I may not get a chance to go on a full-blown touristy kind holiday. But I simply cannot bear the prospect of facing these ads,articles and other stuff related to travelling. Please, spare me the hurt :(

Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Ira was the quintessential trophy wife married to a wealthy person who unfailingly, each day, reminded Ira that if it wasn't for him, she would be languishing in the lower middle class community. Two months into the marriage,Ira had her brush with domestic abuse- she was kicked mercilessly and roughed up for opposing to his 'business meetings' with a certain struggling actress. She had to use make up as a crutch to cover up the bruises and scratches while the dark glasses hid her sore eyes. She continued with this ritual till she landed her in hospital with a broken rib and a host of injuries.

The divorce had been swift and Ira only demanded freedom as alimony.The hissing pressure cooker startled Ira back to reality and she cursed herself for wasting away a considerable chunk of her time in front of the mirror. She ran a hand over her face appreciating the uniform colour except for a few dark spots. She applied a dab of lip gloss and tied her hair up and looked approvingly at her image. She hated make up but had to grudgingly accept it as her saviour during those times.A few years ago, she had dumped the entire make up kit into the trash bin along with the two dark glasses- grim reminders of her abusive past. Dumping them felt like sweet victory and she felt thrilled to see the bruises fade each passing day, the aches disappearing enabling her to move without grimacing.

She entered the kitchen and the air flooded with the aroma of biryani on opening the cooker. Ira scooped out a large portion and enjoyed the treat in thoughtful silence sitting at the balcony offering a panoramic view of the city. This day, three years ago, she was holding onto her marriage, trying to salvage it from certain failure. Three years on, she was thankful to her will power which helped her leave behind her life of abuses, sleepless nights and weepy days. Today was her own personal celebration..... of life.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Kid At The Mall

There are times when situations provide you with the answers for the questions whirling in your head. You open a book and you discover a line relevant to your life, Or there are times when a particular incident rescues from a dark labyrinth, holding your sweaty hand and reassuringly guiding towards light. I earnestly try to keep my senses receptive for such events or people who might help me get distracted, even if temporarily, from a depressing situation.

Considering that I burnt my fingers badly trusting the wrong kind of people, I spent(regretfully) a large portion of my life lamenting my inability to judge people correctly. I am still working on it but for the time being I have surrounded myself with lovely friends who regularly knock some sense in case I fall back in the previous pattern.

It was one of those bad days where even the weather was in complete harmony with my sulky, many, depressed self. I was waiting at a mall to catch up with a friend, a last-ditch attempt to elevate my sunken spirits. Being the overtly punctual person, I landed up earlier than planned and had nothing specific to do since window-shopping was a big no-no for me. I did want to get more down and out by pressing my oily nose against glass windows and yearn for the things which I cannot buy.

So I just roamed around the ground floor till the store attendants became wary of me taking rounds in the mall.Sadly, the benches were occupied and had to stand, eyes glued to the entrance for a spotting my friend. I noticed this slightly plump, hence cute kid helping himself to a generous scoop of ice cream. His parents were no where to be seen but it was the least of concerns for him as he relished the treat, licking off the ice cream dripping on his T-shirt.

It is this wonderful quality of kids to make you smile with their seemingly innocent acts and I felt better. As if by cue, he looked at me and smiled back as I saw him shift a bit using his weight to full advantage to shove the neighbour. And then he patted the space next to me, indicating for me to have a seat.

Dear cute kiddo, where ever you are, you got no idea how powerful your gesture was- injecting me with giddy happiness. I can't thank you enough for helping me not lose faith in love, kindness and humanity. Love you :)