Hate Speech


I applaud one’s nerves to attack people around by his or her blog. A splendid way to attract a lot of attention. The question is, a wise one though ? Well… I wish I had similar guts. I wish people around me too had similar guts to say, “No offence taken”. Since, I am not daring enough to make people around (read- acquaintances ) upset, reason being that starts a chain of protests by their friends and their friends’ friends and I am not good at being a person who is hated by anyone. So I’ll stick to the passive spiceless genre my blog has always been endorsing. A wise one? Since you are not me,  I don’t give a damn. I applaud your guts !

I am not here to pour acrid comments for people I hold grudges against or for people who hold grudges against me. That would be an instant hit, I know. I could talk about the crazy relationships I’ve seen with a disclaimer, all characters are pure figment of imagination. I could talk about how much I hate something and that I am not the only one and how they have earned it. Experience tells me a “hate blog” is the best. People connect to it readily.


Ah yes ! I could spice it up with the slang guys use in every next sentence and are not exclusive to them. Hell! I could scrutinize (criticize) every possible update I see on Facebook, the confessions, the proposals, the insults and what not. Yet again, I guess The Insults page admin thought the same. Didn’t do him or the page any good. (No offence, admin ! )

People around us are growing into a lot that is liked and at least accepted by everyone. They won’t make a single childish ( may be anonymous) attempt to make a “hate-speech” for anyone. Yes, we are growing into a spineless breed. A breed of gut-less people who have filters and converters attached between what they think and what they speak.

XYZ : How do I look ?
Brain : You want to know the truth? A total fiasco! When are you going to accept you are far too fat to don a dress like that ?
Mouth : Woah, gal!  u look so beautiful!!! Where did u buy it from? This color compliments u…Hey neighbor!!!(shouting and calling) See XYZ is looking so pretty !!!
Neighbor : Wow, yar…!!!

#Endless chain of drama.


A Writer’s Adventure

No political correctness

No political correctness (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t want to sound politically correct for once. See it as an adventure a writer seeks.

Believe it or not, It is easier to accept the constraints made on you by people you care or not care about. Self Constraints are the toughest. Because you know you always have a choice, No one but you’ll know if you’ve crossed the line and It is not punitive. Alas, it makes you suffer the most too. The only stopping force.

What a relief to liberate oneself  from such duties of not doing something! This is the unspoken responsibility for a writer to pen non-revolting, non-rebellion, politically correct stuff. You might have heard before, one has to keep the majority happy in a democracy.

I am trying to step out of this shield that has been carved so delicately over the years. It has layers of years of experience polished into one. I call this venture an adventure for its repulsive nature. Repulsion from the path I’ve preached so long and chosen and modified carefully. This path is about the art of how to not hurt anyone by the wisdom of words.

If Shreya were a pen name, I would have been an absolute writer. But this is not the case. I cannot keep my non blogging identity aside. They have interlocked to get this page the
visitors it is getting. I should not cross the line.

The pondering is about the recent discovery of the byproducts of the art I thought was so important to master. Two sides of the coin here too… Ugh! Yes, I want to sound poisonous, utter ugly words for people who have earned it. But the words are missing. As if the new program I’ve been working on has deleted the words altogether from my mind. It should have used an “else” condition some where and kept them in buffer. Just in case. Bad, bad, bad software!

And then, It isn’t just about the missing words, I can not even think something bad about the people who have earned it. You see, there are two kinds of people in one’s life. Good people who are nice to you or at least pretend to be nice to you. The other lot doesn’t even care to pretend. It is the bad people lot. The good people lot tells you in times of doubt that if you have a good number of bad people in your life, you should know you must be doing something good with it.

So, I hear good people questioning the bad people’s parent’s ability to raise a child. I find it too harsh. I tell myself I should not sympathize with the bad people. But I just can’t stop feeling sorry for them every time good people point out their ugliness as a human being.

The realization has anyway instigated in me a wish to be provocative, scandalous for once. I hope to fulfill such bleak desires in blogs to follow.

A Liberal Woman


Are there any summer coats for men too ? I am afraid, not. I guess they don’t feel the heat. And girls are spotted sporting them even on winters. You know my point.

I am no feminist. People have wondered aloud from time to time if I am on the road to become one. To them.. two lines : ” Strong emotions result in strong expressions. I feel more for what I experience.” Fact.

I fancy the idea of a liberal woman. But what is a liberal woman ?

You hear, alcohol consumption is morally wrong, slang usage is a symbol of bad character. If a woman is accused of them, matters get worse. Who are the people who decide the morals and good conduct? Who gives them the authority to do so?

Is letting others decide your moral values a prudent choice?

Should one judge people for how they behave, talk or what they eat, drink and wear?

A liberal woman is one who makes her own choices, speaks her own mind and does not allow popularly prevalent thoughts influence her. If she does not drink, it is because she couldn’t savour it or she is health conscious. If she drinks, it is because she knows when to stop. She doesn’t use slangs because she does not find them necessary.  She uses them when she does. You might find her in a saree or a pair of hot pants. Her choice of clothes are the one she finds herself comfortable in. She may be rude, she may be friendly. She is blunt
because she believes sailing around the truth would not do justice to you. She is soft on you because she does not give it the worth to spoil your moment. She makes her own morals. She would not detest you because you don’t think the way she does.

#She wears a summer coat because she feels the heat (:P) or she is skin conscious.


A Blogger’s Introspection

introspectionA vivacious reader, humble enough to go through my posts once in a while, asked me (when I was amidst drafting my last blog),”What do you want to convey by this post of yours?”  The query was definitely discouraging given that I had just finished telling him what it was all about.

A voice inside my head, on which sometimes I wish I had control (actually, mostly) shrieked “Time for introspection!!!” I don’t understand how a part of my head can be jubilant on my prospects of proven wrong. (You are a sadist, Voice !!!)  I have realized I had been posting arbitrary-meaning nothing posts from a while now.

But isn’t it better than stopping blogging altogether? My writing conscience has apparently surrendered to the market forces. You write a lot of goody-goody stuff and you wouldn’t earn a rare glance rest a visit on the link you posted on your college or school clique. Of course, I want to be read! On the stake of quality? This remains undecided. Plus, Blabbering is so easy for a girl!!!

The point of this post?( Seems the Voice wouldn’t leave me alone.) I had to meet the new set target of 3 posts a month. And, Congress just had an Introspection Camp that ended with a disastrous decision of Rahul Gandhi being elevated to VP that is being interpreted as his being the future Prime Ministerial candidate,  for 2014 Elections.

5 years later. . .

business-woman-cartoonSomeone asked me, “where do you see yourself after 5 years ?” If it was anyone, I would have made up a lame story and made him gulp it. Something preferably, I’ll probably marry by then and be a bad housewife. A bad housewife is one who spends most of her time shopping or resting or doing nothing. But it was not anyone. He was one of those people you have in life, you want to speak truth to. Because, you know you don’t have to lie, you wouldn’t be judged, you might even get some good piece of advice. And let’s be honest, it feels so nice to be yourself around someone, you know accepts you, for who you are.

It was a good question. Jokes apart, the housewife idea isn’t that bad either. It’s good in a way. My present schedule is actually making part of me fancy it. The whole idea of doing nothing has always appealed me anyway. Sad that guys don’t usually have the liberty to opt ‘nothing’ as a career. This is one of the few reasons I feel so grateful to be girl. Some hypocrites will probably call me a hypocrite for wasting a college seat that a needy kid would have made good use of. They are no different from the ones who say if you don’t plan to do a job, then why are you even sitting for the placements ? Well, douche bags! if I was so sure of everything in my life, I was probably an engineer, doctor and an air hostess all at a time. Yep, this used to be the plan of a 8-year-old version of me.

Like everybody, I could do a job in some software company, make some decent money, keeping myself busy enough to not nudge my husband (much- I’ll be a woman, after all) for being busy. And be financially independent. That way it sounds better. But, I’ll have to do a 10 to 5 job for 5 days a week and that is the best possible scenario. Ugh! That would be so not me.

And then… I could brush up my writing skills and keep reading a bunch of newspapers, blogging here and there. One day, I might write a novel or two.Or at least, I may  publish a few articles here and there, once in a while. That would be some life!

Glorious Past

It’s funny how one is unable to evaluate one’s own strengths and tends to exaggerate the shortcomings. I wouldn’t know if any of you readers have realized this for yourself. I did. Just now. And then I figured this one is definitely a blog material. So the blog. This particular line has, potentially, projected me to be a desperate blogger. I wouldn’t reject the suggestion altogether. Life seems to saturate when one reaches the second last year of college. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone has a typed image. Wrong or right. There is little scope for adventure. The kind of adventure one experiences when meeting people of different accents, culture, backgrounds, religion. The kind when one does things for the first time. College definitely holds a lot of firsts in everyone’s life. The point is there is little to extract from an uneventful time. A writer has her limitations too !!!

I ventured, accidentally, into a blog that I used to maintain 6 years back. Shame that my present blog occupied a late position than the previous one in a search engine’s result. I am happy anyway. It is the happiness of a glorified past. Students complain from time to time about the history that is part of their curriculum. They don’t understand its necessity. They will, eventually. One learns from history. One derives a sense of pride in one’s nation’s history. The feeling of belonging is important. Indifference causes confusion. You won’t know who’s who in life.

I find glory in my knowledge of Hindi then. (Courtesy : The old blog.) I’ve lost the proficiency in six years time. I didn’t have to do anything for it. I just had to stop reading and writing Hindi. It seems I did this fairly well. Contrast to all other things I generally do. I had the realization all the while. The discovery of the blog has just given a push to the pride and the guilt. Pride of past and guilt
to not have it now with me. I got busy brushing up my English skills. I thought knowledge stays with you always. It too rusts away with time. Everything needs polishing.

Desperate Times. . .

Desperate times require desperate measures. So when I had an abundance of time and no work to do (a status quo one dreams 24*7 during the end semesters) I realized I wanted to do something, after all.
An engineering student‘s world is a quaint world. If you are an IET student that too not a day boarder it gets stranger and I’m afraid not in a completely pleasant way.  The pros and cons list suggest that IETians ( I guess, the kids feel closer to the Indian IIT dream that way) have their end-semester exams completed before their counterpart RGPV students even start facing them. This results in a sem-break with no friends to hang out with for IETians considering the fact that IETians are fairly low in number in comparison to their RGPV counterparts. The problem gets fierce for the hostelers who have to return to their hometowns whilst their local friends are busy preparing for the exams. Moreover, IET provides one with enough time to watch a movie or two (or more ) a week on regular classes time. All decent-enough-to-watch movies are covered this way even before actual holidays arrive. The purport is one is left with nothing to do on sem-breaks.

Desperate times require desperate measures.

I started with watching some English movies (there are always some you can watch) and series. It took me two days to realize I couldn’t do it all the time. I combined reading a novel to it, too then. Some new authors were tryed those I’ve always heard the name of but never read, for a change. Changes freshen me out. Mostly. Some find this change-requirement theory of mine suggesting a fickle mind. I stick to it. Change is good. Since experiment was in the air, I figured I might try my hands at painting too.

The Confused Sun

The Confused Sun

I did fairly well in painting in school, won some prizes, too. This is what I thought when I was buying the colors and the brushes. The first painting changed it all. I guess the standards
have raised, exponentially and my skills are still the same with some lost (may be). I like the name I gave it though.

This didn’t stop me from painting again. This was because I found the painting activity highly relaxing on my first attempt. It doesn’t matter what you paint, just choose some bright, jubilant colors and you are happy. The Lil Wayne‘s Mirror Video played a vital role in color selection.



Since the last painting came out fairly well, I was enthusiastic to brush up the white sheet again. I had this confidence whatever I am going to paint,  It is going to look good. The third painting told me it was a good example of confidence misplaced. I could even not think of a name for it. It looked like nothing after all. And then a friend quiped, “Illi !!!” (For those who
don’t know an ILLI is an insect that is generally sighted in cabbages, cauliflowers, peas, etc. )