The toughest task of all..

How far would you go to keep a secret?

Picture this : you are in possession of a fact of matter, through word of mouth, and you are absolutely forbidden to pass it on further!

How would you react to this situation?

Personally, for me the thought of keeping a secret involves a lot of grey matter being utilized in keeping the blabbing mouth shut. I have to prioritize and weigh several factors - the gravity of the secret, about whom  is the secret, who has passed on to me the secret, and the repercussions, if suppose, I just let go...

Life shouldn't be complicated - as it is we have to be careful about what we say, what we do, how we present ourselves in the external world - we are trying so hard to be maintain this awesome facade - or reality - of ourselves, to the society, office, acquaintances - that when it comes to the extra burden of keeping a secret - sanity tends to topple over!

So you're in the possession of this amazing secret - the sweet tantalizing juice of impending gossip stains your thought process every now and then - Heavens forbid, if the universe decides to throw you, in this extremely vulnerable situation, with a group of friends who happen to know the subject ! Every now and then, you feel this urgent need - not to pee - but to just utter those words - "you know what I heard...."

And the relief, the calm, that sweeps through, when you know the issue is in capable hands. The dissection, the back links of the story, and the predictions of what could happen next, lend a legend to the secret, make it seem more real, and just make it worth blurting it out!

Of course, the person who trusted you so intimately, will probably just make you the last man/woman in on the next juicy piece, but you can always promise them "I'll be strong, next time on"!

And hey, maybe the next secret might just be so bland, you'll keep your word!

I'm just in possession of a secret, absolutely forbidden to blurt it out!! I hope the subject speaks soon! My reputation as the secret-keeper is already on shaken grounds!

What's wrong with you, man??

This piece of writing has references to the the male section of the society, irrespective of caste,creed, colour, age , profession or religion.

And with very very important inputs from an 18 yr old girl who has to go through it everyday. 

A girl stands on the bus stop. She can feel the gaze of every man in the vicinity, on her. A bus passes, and the ones sitting near the window all look at her. The bus moves forward, and the roving eyes move backwards. The ones who are standing, actually crouch down to have a look at the girl.

FYI, she's no hottie. She's a plain Jane. Wearing simple clothes. Yet the stares don't leave her.

She moves on, and two guys on a bike who have been "decent" enough to observe from a distance, now start following her. So weird, were they scared that the staring, spineless crowd at the bus stop might actually stop them from approaching the girl? With the bike, they can move a step ahead of their "in the bus" counterparts. "Can we drop you, ma'am", they ask, oh-so-politely.

When the girl ignores, they just laugh and drive off. Had she flipped them off, they would have been ready with more inopportune things.

You must have heard of Darwin’s theory of evolution the body structure keeps changing according to the needs – it seems in the coming generations some men will be born as head turned backwards. Check out all you want!

The scene inside the bus is no better.  With every little jerk of the bus, the men seem to topple down on the girls standing in front of them.  But oh, it’s not their fault! The bus stopped, so, according to the laws of inertia he will fall on the person in front of  him. And if the person happens to be a female, then the "level of falling" on the person doubles. That's the law. It’s not his fault now, is it?

This is not just limited to idle loafers or vagabonds. From the lowest, illiterate sections of the society, till the highly educated ones, it is seen, that a majority just cannot take their eyes off … all women! They stare, from top to bottom, almost making you feel you have something funny written all over you.  Inadvertently, almost as if on reflex, they tend to make many a women highly uncomfortable. Even if you're the dare girl type who can manage to bad mouth right on the face and move on, there's still a bitter taste of the experience left.

Nature argues that man was meant to procreate, and woman was supposed to be the care giver, and hence that is why, men are "used" to such behavioural imitations when they're around a woman. But isn't this a little too much? Hey, whatever happened to mind over matter?

I walk back from office every day. I pass through different strata’s of the society on the way. And men - just stare. There's a vacant, blank look, as if they aren’t even aware of what they're doing. Boys standing in a group - all will suddenly notice you (and by you, I mean ANY girl) one by one, signal to each other, while smiling slyly..  I mean, how juvenile is that??!!

The “stare” is omnipresent-  it’s on the road, on the bus ride, on the station, in the auto, in the market – even some of the “committed” ones,  while with their girlfriends,  can’t help but stare at other women around them. It's like an animal instinct. See a girl? Okay, STARE!

Come to think of it, my pet Tom doesn’t seem to act like that too! Maybe I should observe chimps?

And then there are the oldies also, seem to be from good families (whatever is meant by that)... the old husband walks behind his old wife dutifully, but even he can't help looking at a girl old enough to be his granddaughter. I just want to ask them, what the hell is wrong?? And if the aunty notices her husband's gaze, she'll turn around and glare at you. Is it my fault??!!

So many instances, and you know for sure, this is not a casual glance. This is what you've made yourself used to.  Education seems to do nothing.  The realization should come from within.  That I'm not an un-evolved version of the Homo sapiens who will act only according what the primitive coding in my genes says. And there could be a trickledown effect, from the upper echelons till the lowest.

Having said all this, not all men are bad, and not all women are innocent (look at 7 khoon maaf! ), but still we live in a country of 100 million gender biased Gen-previous, and I've heard more cases of girls being subjected to such occasional "man-attack".

It may be a microscopic view. But I don’t want this to become a way of life for the generations to come. 

PS - The accompanying picture is from today's edition of THE HINDU

The Dream or The Reality?

She was alone.
Standing on the crossroads, and rain poured all around her.
There was no light, not a soul in sight.
It rained so hard till the road became a shallow river.
And in the middle of it, she was alone.
A light shines from somewhere. Perhaps a car. A speck in the distance. It grows closer.
The girl seems vulnerable. Scared. And soaked to death.
Matted hair clung to her face. The excess water made her skin pallid and old rubber skin like.
She was thin. And shivering.
He felt confused. What is she doing here in the middle of the night.
Worried. He was a doctor after all.
Compassionate. Human emotions take precedence.
He slows down. Honks.
She does not budge. Looks at him, scared still.
Her dress is black. She's tall. Thin. A little self assurance creeps through, despite the state of affairs.
He stops the car next to her. Rolls down the passenger window.
Calls out  "Hey!
Need to go somewhere?"
She looks at him, blank.
It's raining hard. It's getting dark. He needs to reach home fast before this becomes a storm.
He calls out again. She's now looking ahead at the road.
Both sides are fields. There's no hut, or soul in sight.
He sighs, caught between the desire to rush, and the guilt of leaving this (probably) retarded girl here.
He gets out. Goes up to her.
My! She's nearly as tall as I am, he thinks. The chivalry shrinks a little.
It's impossible to talk in this rain. He gestures towards the car. And then waves towards the road ahead.
She turns her head slowly. Looks at the road. then the car. then the man.
She nods.
He feels relieved. Hop in, he says
She glides slowly towards the door. He rushes towards the wheel.
He sits. locks. Starts the car. Changes the gear. Accidentally (?) brushes the girl's hand.
Feels a shock. They are too cold. and hard. Almost like...
He looks at her. The eyes are boring back into his. They are black, with a strange emptiness.
Then he notices the dagger. The cold, wet, sharp dagger. He remembers the hitchhike stories.
A raise, a swipe.
Blood splashes on the car windows....


He wakes up in a fright. Cold sweat breaks out on his forehead.. But he's alive.
Next to his bed is a jugful of water and a glass. He pours himself a glass.
As he raises the glass, the girl is reflected in the steel exterior of the glass.
A raise, and a swipe..
In his last moments, he remembers the hitchhike dream...