The Girl

His usual spot, his monotonous job. Belting out songs that weren't his, being hooted at, and the worst of all, observing the dirty side of the so called elegant class.

Well, when you're low, trust the beatles to lift you up. *

I saw a film today, oh boy
The English army had just won the war
A crowd of people turned away
But I just had to look, having read the book
I'd love to turn you on

"Hey mate, how about some zing?"

"Shut the fucking song up"

Well, 'twas but the usual.             

Perhaps, is was a whiff of intuition that made him look at the door.

She entered with an air of arrogance, sashayed across the room, made sure everyone was looking at her, men and women alike, and settled at the bar, unassumingly.

 She ordered a drink for herself, and sat, unaware of the ripples she had created in many a heart. Sensuously, her long legs slid under the table. Oh! What a beauty. He could imagine the rapid blood flow in the veins of all the wanting men in the room.

Is there anybody going to listen to my story
All about the girl who came to stay?
She's the kind of girl you want so much
It makes you sorry
Still, you don't regret a single day
Ah girl
Girl

Her eyes searched the room, every corner, every face. Not resting on a single lucky soul for more than a second. He wanted her glance, oh, so bad.

And she looked at him, and how! Her naughty eyes, played with his heartbeates.

I give her all my love
That's all I do
And if you saw my love
You'd love her too
I love her

He crooned. Her luscious pout twirled into a smile. An inviting one.

She gives me everything
And tenderly
The kiss my lover brings
She brings to me
And I love her

She rose, like a queen, and moved, softly. It seemed the air was moving with her. Her sumptuous curves moved in an epicurean fashion. Tempting, tantalizing, inviting. Her hair kept teasing him, his fingers went rhythmically on the guitar string, listless to play with her strands. She induced many sinful emotions in the hearts of the men, all incited to touch her once. Her heavenly beauty allured the gods, too. He was so sure of that.

A love like ours
Could never die
As long as I
Have you near me

Bright are the stars that shine
Dark is the sky
I know this love of mine
Will never die
And I love her

She stopped, turned towards an alluring picture of manhood, her long slender fingers touched him tenderly on his face, and they left, teasingly. Little did she know, she had left a man in love.


*This line, was made my a dear friend, Priya Sharma. How apt!

The Reflection.

Now traumatised by silence,

Engulfed in self pity,

All that her reflection showed her,

was her pain,

her anxiety,

her submission.

How could she stoop so low?

"Pull yourself, woman!", he'd scream.

She'd let him ruin her wholly.

There wasn't a part of her left,

that wasn't screaming for help.

The mirror reflected her angst,

her loss,

her standing.

Her heart was breaking,

bit by bit,

into pieces, that she couldn't assemble,

into parts, that were lost forever.

Her innocence, her charm, her spirit,

all dead.

She was vulnerable.

What was she waiting for?

For someone new, to come and break her completely?

She had lost once, not again.

As she drank the last remnants of the bottle,

it was peace at last.

The reflection was dying,

and so was she.

Beyond the words-Khaled Hosseini

“Some things I can teach you. Some you learn from books. But there are things that, well, you just have to see and feel."

So,the line goes in A Thousand splendid suns. Sometimes, how much ever we hear, how much ever we read, we may not understand the depth. One has to feel it.  

Afghanistan, a country, often ignored. In its oblivion, it has seen pain, anguish, unstability, war, and cruelty of the highest kind. Where the rest of the world, enjoyed the luxuries that modern living had to offer, the Afghans were deprived of their basic right of living. And there comes a writer, who impressively weaves the two most beautiful stories, I've read.  Based on this very same country. So intriguing, his words, and so beautifully compassionate is the story, you want to pack your bags and make the first trip. Oh! Screw the unstability.

Khaled Hosseini, not in the country where his heart belongs, presently, leaves little for imagination. He lifts you up, and places you on the streets of Afghanistan.Where you can hear Pashto and Farsi. Where you can see Burqa clad women, scurrying around. You can feel the atmosphere, by just sitting in your room and holding the book in your hand. Thats the basic essence of his writing. You feel for the charachters. You quietly shed tears when they're in anguish, and you can feel their innocence. He does not take sides in his books, he lets you do that. His writing style has such a stoic intensity, that it makes you want to sit up and wish you could do something for the country, once beautiful, and rich, and now in ruins.

The Kite Runner...
 “There was brotherhood between people who had fed from the same breast, a kinship that even time could not break.”

Amir and Hassan's story, through the changing political scenario in Afghanistan is a heart-wrenching story of friendship, betrayal, and ever-lasting loyalty. Hassan,a lowly Hazara, the step-brother to the rich Amir, a Pashtun, a secret concealed all through their childhood, who imbibes the pure and noble traits of Baba, Aamir's father. The first word that Amir said when he was born was Baba, and Hassan, Amir. And that was how it was to remain all their life. Amir would want to do anything to please his father and Hassan, forever remained loyal to Amir.

"I had been the entitled half, the society-approved, legitimate half, the unwitting embodiment of Baba's guilt. I looked at Hassan, showing those two missing front teeth, sunlight slanting on his face. Baba's other half. The unentitled, under-priveleged half. The half who had inherited what had been pure and noble in Baba. The half that, maybe, in the most secret recesses of his heart, Baba had thought of as his true son."

The book talks of cruelty, the betrayal Hassan faces from the hands of the one person he loves and adores. The language, so rich, that your heart goes out to Hassan. You marvel at the innocence of the kids, unaware of the changes happening in their country, and the book clearly manages to tell the story of how its always the good that triumphs, irrespective of how powerful the enemy is. Years later, when Aamir leaves a well settled life in America to go to the Taliban-infused Afghanistan to rescue Hassan's blood, Sohrab ,you want to smile with satisfaction.

A thousand splendid suns

“Learn this now, and learn it well, my daughter: Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam.”

Khaled Hosseini, talks in this book of the immense cruelty that the women in Afghnistan have to go through. Whether its the Pre-Taliban era, or during it, women were always considered lowly. With some quotes, that will definitely pull your heart strings, you have to shed a tear,

“Only one skill. And it’s this: tahamul. Endure.”

Mariam, the woman,who goes through immense pain, of being illegitemate, of being married off, without her consent, of being married to a man, who needed no reason to beat her to pulp, who married a girl, fit to be his daughter when Mariam was in her prime. She finds comfort in Laila, the girl, who inspite of having a very free childhood, has to marry Mariam's husband in unforseen circumstances. Together,the two women go through a painful, sometimes pleasant, mostly anxious journey. The book, gives this underlying message that it is the women of Afghanistan who have to bring change.

In a few years, this little girl will be a woman who will make small demands on her life, who will never burden others, who will never let on that she too has had sorrows, disappointments, dreams that have been ridiculed. A woman who will be like a rock in a riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washed over her.

This is the Afghan woman, tender, but hardened by time.
Khaled Hosseini is one of the few Afghans, who's rid himself of the old-world mentalilty, who craves for nothing but change in his homeland, for develoment in the country once rich in culture. He vividly manages to capture that craving. And not only that, he pulls you into his web of thoughts. Beauty beneath the words, thats Khaled Hosseini for you.

Letters to the future..

Dear Future,
Now is this moment of uncertainity. The distance is too far, the thoughts are blurred. There are tons of questions asked, but the mind has very less anwers. You see, its running out of words. There's a whirlwind of emotions in the heart. They secretly fight with each other. They leave me void,often. Future,I ain't ignoring you one bit. I've designed you according to the way I want you to be. I know, right now, its a tough phase. But nothing would stop me from reaching out to you.
Love.

the other one

Blank spells,she called them.
Had ignored them all this while.
She couldn't face the realisation,
that there was someone else inside her.
She was meek,a weakling.
The other one was headfast.
She could barely speak,
strongly aware of her lapse.
The other one came out,
in moments of agony.
When she couldn't express,
the other one would take over.
When she couldn't cry,
the other one would scream.
When she couldn't reason,
the other one would rebel.
The other one,
made her feel like a trespasser.
But how could she be one,
it was her body.
She felt herself tearing into two,often.
Emotionally depressed.
Expressively void.
She couldn't fathom,
what the other one thought.
Often blamed,
for things she hadn't done.
But how could she explain,
it was not her.
Her soul tore her apart.
The agony was too much for her frail mind.
She thought,she'd set it free.
And the other one,
could well,go die.



P.S.the above poem is strongly inspired from a novel called *Sybil* by Flora Rheta Schreiber about a young innocent woman,going through the trauma of housing sixteen multiple personalities.

Adams,unplugged

It wasn't a chance hearing to some random music channel that got me hooked to this music sensation.I wasn't even thought about when the teenagers of another era were grooving to the summer of 69.I was in the 4th grade,that was the year 2001 when my father made me listen to this Canadian rockstar.It was the time of the Backstreet boys,Westlife and Peter Andre.It was my father who slowly exposed me to the Beatles,Michael Jackson,George Michael and subsequently Bryan Adams.He got me this CD of Bryan Adams Unplugged and I was so hooked.
There's this quality in his voice.Its raw,sort of inperfect which got me totally floored.And since then,he has been one of my most favourite artists of all time.My taste in music has changed.I don't listen to the Backstreet boys or Brtiney Spears anymore.I'm into the Poets of the Fall.But nothing has changed the love I feel for Bryan Adams' music.Its got an old school feel to it.With songs like the Summer of 69,Back to you,When you love someone,I'm ready,All for love,Straight from the heart,This time,One night love affair,which were the notable ones,left me enthralled.

And baby,you're all I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm finding it hard to believe

We're in heaven...

And love is all I need

And I'm finally there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven

When he crooned thus in Heaven,its hard not to fall in love with this man's voice.

OR...

When he goes all romantic in..

I swear to you

I will always be there for you

there's nothing I won't do..

If you're a girl,and if you have a guy singing this to you..

To really love a woman
To understand her
You gotta know her deep inside
Hear every thought
See every dream
And give her wings when she wants to fly

And when you find yourself
Lying helpless in her arms
You know you really love a woman 

Its hard to not be floored.

But as much as you love Bryan Adams for his soft rock,its hard not to love him for his off-the-edge songs.The most famous one being 18 till I die..

I wanna be young the rest of my life
never say no - try anything twice
til the angels come and ask me to fly
I'm gonna be 18 til I die

The most amazing quailty about a Bryan Adams song is,how refreshing each song is from the other.

And the most endearing quality about Bryan Adams,the celebrity is,that apart from making amazing music,he's a brilliant song-writer,he's impressive with the guitars.

And a fact that many don't know,he's an acclaimed photgrapher,and a dedicated philanthropist,working for many a cause.

If you love music,you should be giving Bryan Adams a hear.

Isn't it a mere coincidence that the post coincides with Bryan Adams announcing that he will be touring India in February.The last time he had come,and I couldn't make it coz I had no tickets,and exams on my head,I had promised myself that there's no way,I'm letting him go the next time he comes.And I will stick to my promise this time around.




*Smells like teen spirit*

*Obama stumped by a H.R. college student*

Or so,was the *Times'* headlines.Amazing,isn't it?The world's most powerful leader,*stumped* by a regular college student in Mumbai.And then,he proceeds to rattle something about how he was expecting this question and coming up with a totally mumble-jumble answer.Prepared,did he say?
Well,this post ain't about Obama.Nor about their Mumbai trip.Nor about how awesome a dancer the lady O is.We've read that.I'll assume,you have too.
Its about the *teen spirit*.Remember that song by Nirvana..Goes something like..

"With the lights out it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us"

*yeah,We aren't waiting to be given a chance.We grab the opportunity.Come,entertain us.*

Perhaps,its the hunger of knowledge.Blame it on the abundantly available information.When it comes to tactful information,everybody's got it.What's google for?So how does that give someone the edge?
It's all about the presentation.Today,the youth has what it takes to present themselves with the utmost confidence.Sometimes,its contadictory.They lead you to believe something they say,when its not even true.Yeah,we're smart,like that.
Teen spirit's got a new high.They smoke,they drink,they dope,and they are unappologetic about it.They don't hide.They flaunt.That's the new mantra.Be it talent or the money.
They go on to say what they feel,say what they want,unabashedly.
They pretend to know what's right,and they can distinguish the wrong.They are good actors.
But its not just about being showy.We're intelligent,perhaps more intelligent than what our parents would want us to be.We're ambitious in a healthy way.Its not about pulling the other down.We try getting better than what we are.
Teen spirit is infectious and growing.And that's the way,it intends to stay.

New blog.

I don’t know,why I’m here,with another blog.I mean I had one.I was happy with that blog.
But,the problem with this 17-year old funny,quirky girl is that,she can be a tad serious too.Like very serious.
And she thinks this blog would sound more serious than the other one.Hence,this blog.
So yes,my name is Meher.I’m seventeen.Twenty-one more days to go for me to turn into an adult (see,i write number names.I’m that serious).I’m very serious about the few genuine relationships in my life.I guard them firecely.
I have a mom and dad.Like everybody does.
I really want to make it big in life.Thats the ambitious me,being all serious.
You might think,what does a seventeen year old,who dosen’t write the best english,know about blogging,and about doing well in life.You might think,here,we go,another kid on blogosphere.So I’d rather you think again.I’m very passionate about very word I write.I know,I’m not the best.But I can be very good.
I make sense,most of the time,atleast to me,I do.
Lest hope,this was introduction enough.

I hope to get all this.
*Love*