Hello Haters . . .


This is an open, dear letter to all the legitimate souls on the internet, who are unable to withstand others’ opinions, pictures, videos, and ideas. Are you that guy/girl who sends your d***/b*** pictures on a private message (privacy [in]dignity) to people who post their passionate yoga videos, dance pictures, and outfits? (Especially on Instagram?) I feel you. I totally feel you. But let me confess something as I take your side. Wait, I don’t do that. I’d never do it because I find happiness and joy in different things like writing, reading, dancing and spending time with people I love. But I find your intentions and approach very strange and … ok, let’s just use strange for now. I do not believe in giving a voice to a criminal/culprit who has confessed his guilt. With rising rape incidents, I believe rapists should be denied expression of opinions. They are far from human species and I do not know what, but they have got a long way to get back into their human skin. Alright, I am excusing that and taking your side now, dear hate-mongers.

I have been feeling challenged as I am wondering how to put my thoughts out. This does not feel easy. Online content such as news and personal opinions may annoy you because all of us judge and all of us have some degree of hypocrisy. The question is about who you are as a person, and how you respond to such data. Damn, what is the best way to do this? I want to be quite careful about each and every word I put out here. Ok. I am going to take a few examples and jump straight into the dirt. Instagram is an amazing online community that bears billions of stories on an hourly basis. People world over, share their stories through the eye of their phone camera and so much of it, is so very inspiring, beautiful, funny and thoughtful. Some are life-changing indeed.

Story 1 – I come across a lot of yoga poses and pictures on Instagram in which the yogis explain what they are trying to achieve in a specific asana(pose). A lot of the before and after posts were a story of transformation and had information about dealing with inner fears and sometimes flexibility. I am an infant student of yoga and I find these posts refreshing my day. After my yoga class, a ton of YouTube tutorials and reading materials have failed to make me understand a specific technique. Many a time, the magic has unfolded after seeing an Instagram yogi explains the specific pose and demonstrates it in their post. The almost nude/naked/bikini/yoga clothing posts are so damn on point because as a student, I learn it for free plus it turns out to be a Eureka moment. That joy and the completeness has to be experienced. It is the joy of learning and learning the right way. I am awed by their courage to open up and post, barring all their inhibitions and vulnerability of judgments.

yoga

Holding the core, stiffening the shoulders and making up your mind is not as easy as sending an “I want to have SEX with you” DM. It is far more difficult and demanding than a demeaning comment on their post. Apart from ruining your own opportunity to get inspired, you are bringing down the spirit of an innocent person who is working so hard to push themselves harder to get better. Of course, they are going to move on from you, but the trauma you create is irreversible. It is a scar.

Do you think the yogis need to be enlightened about the dresses that you find obscene? Who are you at all in the first place? Okay, I am your advocate. So let’s look at this way. What if they try to dress “better” according to your standards and someone like you, does not like it and ends up sending demeaning DMs and comments just like you did? Victims remain victims yet. Doesn’t work. If you are trying to excuse yourself because they were not dressed well, read on the next case.

Story 2 – I am keeping it simple this time and let’s take up an (Indian) classical dancer. Why? Indian classical dancing (traditionally) has traditional (read full-cover) attire. It is hard to find (or discover or get a Ph.D. on) anything remotely obscene there. But then, she gets harassed on Instagram again. She gives up on her past silence and makes a post on it that goes like this.

nitya

Did you read the first line of her post? It was not her first time. It was several instances (days) of suppressed anger and confusion as to why somebody would send such profanity. She failed to understand their (your) ignorance and blasphemy. She has already tried ignoring, blocking and moving on. But (you) guys seem to hide under those sober t-shirts and jeans at the corner of every street, in the buses, trains, theaters, toilets, walkways, schools, colleges, homes (!) and now online as well. Thanks to technology for keeping your brains blunt and offering you an extra pair of evil eyes. Okay, I am your advocate. Let’s see.

Boy, are we damned? Not yet. Next is the story of an activist (Uh-Oh!).

Story 3 – A friend of mine who keeps posting sweet updates on food, family, books, and places. She is also an activist. Her soft soul has had enough of your scars that keeps giving her panic sweats. Okay. I am your advocate. Why was she harassed with “SEX” in her DMs? She did not post with “obscene” dresses. She did not post dance videos that “YOU” didn’t like. What was it with her now? Oh wait, you guys are the breed that would suffocate an eight-year-old diaper, aren’t you? Okay, I am your advocate. Let’s calm down.

I guess we are damned now dear hate-mongering, sex-begging, cyber-bullying, human-disguised-demons! You wouldn’t back down if one woman pushed you out. Not when 10, 100, 1000s do it with all their #MeToo confessions. Now all the men, women and every sane soul on the internet are forming a #cyberchain and plotting to rip you apart through channels such as Gentlemen Of India (insta handle @gentlemenofindia), Everyday sexism project (Twitter handle @everydaysexismproject) and #AWARIANS (insta handle @awarians).

You have gotten yourself here. It is never too late. By now, you should be having panic sweats and near trauma conditions if you did any of what is shared above. But that is okay. There is still time. Move on and try to develop a perspective that sees the good in others. If you find a post irrelevant, move on. If you find it pleasing, be encouraging. Harassing others will get you nowhere. Oh wait, it could legally land you in jail! We. Are. Damned.

Dear hater, I am so sorry I could not advocate you no matter how much I try to see if there was an ounce of sense in your actions and intentions. How others dress is never your concern, choice or business. How you perceive things and people, and how you react, maybe under your control if you choose this as your redemption point. If not, we are coming for you b******. Next time you have a reaction to something, scroll up this post, read about my contemplations and challenges I faced as I tried to broach and approach something that disturbed me. If you still possess a good human mind, you would have gotten your answer already.


The petitions I supported alongside this issue –

Reporting Rules on Instagram

Report rape threats against women

 

 

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Thank you for being late #GogalReads


If you are a fan of ‘THE HINDU’ or NYT, and appreciate the Open-Ed columns in newspapers and online media, then this could be your book. Remember it gives the feel of 400+ pages of newspaper articles. It does give the feel of a curated article collection but it is not. The author has documented a lot of his travels around the world, and has travelled a lot to document the world. It should have been enriching and overwhelming to observe and narrate all that, that today’s world is about. Every page demonstrates this euphoria.

Engineers and tech-freaks would envy the author for he has met up with the big shots of this century who are in the realm of corporate business and science and technology. This is to understand how they decided to see this world as a bank of opportunities amidst blood and wars. The author has grasped all of this donning the journalist hat, and published pages and pages of awe for the speed and passion that pervades the planet. And the message is calm and clandestine – Optimism, power of writing and opportunism. Opportunism is not bad after all, when channelized to solve world problems.

And so it seems that some of the awe has turned into pages and pages of rant as the book approaches its end. But to give him the benefit of doubt, what would be a good way to end a book on contemporary world? It just doesn’t end, right? I think that should have been the struggle. In an effort to appreciate and demonstrate his inspiration from biomimetics, the author tries to take a metaphorical approach towards “what can we learn from the existing systems?”. This part of the book is called the drag factor.

This is where the author does not only unpeel the banana, but also grabs the stick, to push it down the reader’s throat (That’s right, it’s choky and saturating). Apart from this part, the book is neat. No. I wouldn’t hate bananas altogether. Think about it – that wouldn’t be a wise decision. Hasty, yes. Wise? NO. You regret complaining about a good book. This is really worse than not liking a book. For aspiring bloggers and content creators, this chapter gives a valuable lesson on KISS – Keep It Simple Stupid. Brevity is the soul of wit – truly!

This book is a mini time-capsule for everyone who wants a bird’s eye-view of “So! What’s up in the world?!” I’d recommend it for the back-story of all the successful people who make us think that it was easy for them. What we underestimate or sometimes don’t even care to wonder, goes behind the scenes. But the truth is, a lot of those scenes and bloopers has made ordinary minds to come out with extraordinary ideas that has made this world a better place to live in. Isn’t that reason enough to tolerate the climax drag? To pause, stop, to look around and see how much has changed, and how well it can be used for one’s betterment, is the best takeaway from “Thank You For Being Late”. Well, better late than never!

A lot of this, and a bit of that


Stress could be diverse. Stress has several causes. But one of the reasons for stress is universal. And what could that reason be? It is simply not enjoying what you do, on a regular basis. If this reason is universal, why is work considered stressful? Because you may want to argue that there are a lot of variables involved with the choice of profession, starting from family background, nature of job, work shifts, financial security, and personal setbacks in life. But before you come up with your excuses (yes, that’s what I would like to address them as, for now), think again. Innately, it just means that you do not give yourself a good company at work, and while you work. Now, what does that mean?

A country can only have one leader at a time. The lack of attention to detail from thousands of dreamers, hundreds of aspirants, and a handful of candidates to one facet of their dream, is the trump (duh!) card that the winning candidate flipped to his/her favor. During the tenure of that leader, every other potential leader, lives through with hard-hitting lessons and strategies that their dream recently taught them. As long as the lessons remain reinforcing, their dream is alive. The moment they allow pressure to seep in, their dream boat starts to sink. They go back to work, and give a little bit lesser of themselves to work, than the previous day. In the race between mounting pressure and reinforced lessons, mind falters in a jiffy and you tend to give in to pressure. You love your dream. But your love for that work towards your dream is a little less than yesterday. A lot of these littles, make it big. Every drop counts. Because it drops. To those who think that you are positively passionate and will never love it any less, way to go. That’s the intent. But wanting to get there, and getting there, are two very different challenges.

So what’s the point? Love yourself a little more with each passing day, because when a bad day happens, it does not guarantee to take just a little away from you everyday. What gets taken away, always seems bigger than what you gathered to avoid the mishap. Give yourself a good company at whatever you do. Add some spice, and liven it up. It’s inexplicable to understand, and measure the rewards of enthusiasm. You never know how rewarding your enthusiasm could be. So the best approach is to give a little more than before. This way, what you lose remains insignificant in comparison to your unfathomable endurance, grit and passion. The more you possess, the less you could give. Yes, it is a strange math.


Your first best should be your-self! Most needed friend . . .
Pingback – A Friend in Need

Corona


I like the frenzy of normalcy. That is where I was born. That is where I belong . . .
They say that dreams are the calling of your soul. That is where they go wrong . . .

You came up to me. We became the best of partners. You, my dreams. And I, the me.
I yearned for you. I chased you up and down my days and nights.

You were all that, that I wanted. Little did I know that you were a package.
A package full of pressure. And sweat. And blood. And fame. And spotlight. And promises.

The little human in me, often succumbed to the burning flame that you were.
The little heart in me, often scurried into the braving name that you bore.

There were those days when I wanted to get to you. You, were all that that I was born for. Made for. Looked for. And lived for.

Sitting atop the mountain of fame, is a curse in disguise.
No superstar of this home, ever did surmise.

Privacy hid in its own privy.
Secrecy bid an unknown currency.
Aloof – scorched my roof.
“Alone!” screamed in proof.

The corona of stardom, is a story that repeats itself across nations. Dear fame, spare me.

You came up to me. We became the best of partners. You, my dreamer. And I, am your dream.
I yearned for you. I chased you up and down your days and nights. And mine.

You were all that, that I wanted. Little did I know that you were a package.
A package full of vulnerability. And courage. And love. And flesh. And thoughts. And promises.

The little human in you, often succumbed to the burning flame that I sparked.
The little heart in you, often scurried to throw the blame I trademarked.

There were those days when I wanted to get to the real you. You, were all that that I was born for. Made for. Looked for. And strived for.

Rising atop your name, was a life time goal.
Every superstar of this home, you are my mid-day meal.

The corona of a star, is a story that repeats itself across nations. Dear star, wear me.