On My Own

A day more before I make my first trip to a foreign country.  Alone and on my own. Excited? You might ask. Well I am not sure until I am there sitting in the flight and ready to take-off. Only I never imagined all this will happen to me. A girl from a middle class family, always fighting for marks in school  and being a part of the competition not just academically but be it dance, debate, drawing she wanted to excel.  If I rewind the time and ask her, her dreams, you might not want to believe her.  I wanted to be an engineer and management student working in corporate just like everybody else. I wanted IIT or BITS and IIM, my dreams were big but constrained somehow. I never ever thought beyond it because well if you think beyond IIT then you are surely insane. I wanted to earn and live lavish. I never realized that was just not me. I was living what was expected out me as a student, a daughter, an Indian teenager if I may say. 

Maybe that random person who entered my life for a while changed my perspective or may be the non-happening college added to the anger that was building in me, may be the sister’s support or whatever that happened at that right time in my life, I knew I wanted to take full control of it from then on. I wanted to have my own decisions, my own failures and successes. No one to blame or to take credit. I wanted this one life to be my own. Yes I was always the one with dreams, always the one thinking too much, the one whose ideas and guts people called crazy. But see aren’t they working in the right direction now? And I am sure once I am done with this trip, I will want more. The desire of having more never stops. It’s certainly a vicious circle. 

Today I am happy. Today I am 22 and as I look back to the old me, I feel so proud of the present me. I really do love myself a lot. Like I fall for myself each day. It’s stupid to even put it like that but I really mean it. I am smiling to myself right now. Hihi! I have never been to the West, leave some famous persons biography, I have never even followed blogs of persons living there to know them closely. But through movies and sitcoms and from what I hear, the good part of letting your child go and live on his own as he enters adulthood is he finds himself. You don’t have to disown him, he will always come seek your advice and cry to you in his lows but as parents you have to take the bold step to let him go; to lose him to find himself. Indeed that’s the time your parenting is actually at test. 

My mom got married at 20 and had a child at 21 and I am 22, I won’t allow anybody to call me a kid anymore or say that my opinions and thoughts are still immature. I respect experience that comes with age but I support a radical mind as well. I want to tell my parents they have done their best, the best one can do for their kids. I can tell with full confidence that even if they set me free now, I am not deviating from who I am at the core. They have built a strong foundation in me and as I am growing I find a little bit of dad and mom in me. And that’s cool, you know?

I know it’s selfish of me to be saying this or any child to be telling this, but parents you need to let us go. Don’t emotionally black mail them. Don’t be uncertain of your parenting. Be confident and impart the same confidence in them.  The more doubts you put on them, the more they are going to hate you and not only that, yes they will certainly do something you wouldn’t approve of then. This is a fact and in case you are unaware you are being fooled. 20s is the time his personality is actually in the make, please help him to search himself. 

It’s so sad when my friends say, they don’t want to come back home to all the restrictions. They don’t want those two people to be constantly asking them why and where. We are over that age. Those questions are not for the 20s. They will prefer talking of dreams and future instead. They will prefer discussing their ideas with you and their life plans. They will like talking about their opinion on a particular movie or news piece. They will love discussing their love interests but only if you give such an open atmosphere to them. Trust me they will love you more and more importantly you will feel more loved.  Love always feels better when not asked or forced. The bond then what you will make with your kids will be the best in the world.

 

Pakhi –made by mom and dad 

The Process of Turning 22

Lately I have been writing a lot. Small notes. Bits and Pieces here and there.  And when not that, I am doing a lot of thinking. My tiny brain is stuffed with so much. Last month I got free of shoots and work and took a 10 days break. First two-three days I spent sleeping and resting. As days passed by and Birthday came closer, creepy little thoughts came crawling into my head. Also PMS was working its usual way. I was overthinking the situations and longing for privacy in my overly crowded home. I wanted my creative space and I wanted to confess someone something. Friends were leaving and 22 was happening. With this last birthday I conclude, I hate birthdays. For no reason your expectations rise up and I am sorry for not being able to control my desires. They automatically come down as tear drops. I am sorry for the days my heart just can’t stop wanting things. I am sorry for being so extreme in the way I live life. I know I ultimately hurt myself each time. But I think I need these little sad breaks. That’s the way I am. They make me write. They make me do things. Being balanced keeps me safe and satisfied but I need extremity to take me to some other level. A similar phase years back got me into making photography a serious affair.

It’s wonderful how age brings maturity but when my own sister refuses to understand the changes I am going through, when she herself went through some trouble in this sad age of 22, it pricks my heart. It really does. I am happy that she got herself a beautiful family, maybe I am overthinking again but I felt a distance this time. As if she is not mine. She is first a mother, a wife now. I have no complains either. Just. I know not all of you ponder to this extent or don’t give that much importance to the little changes since they are bound to happen. I have no grudges against you. But a person like me who has made her profession capturing people’s expressions and feelings because that’s how she sees the world- an ocean of emotions, how can she skip the changes her own heart feels or eyes see.

I have made this life. I have built my life. Had I not added a stranger, I wouldn’t have understood photographs. Had I told mom and dad then they would have definitely stopped me from talking to some unknown guy. While they have given me a lot of freedom, I think I am growing up. At 22 I don’t feel like sharing space with them anymore. I feel like having my own little room and managing my own laundry and food section. I don’t want to be answerable to why I came at 11pm. I don’t want to take permissions for little things and don’t want to see them upset if I am going somewhere without informing.  Simply put, I don’t want to justify, at least not the day to day affairs.

I am eagerly waiting for my first solo trip. I read blogs and articles. It says you go through some life changing experiences during this time. Most of my friends would be gone from Indore before I take my flight to a foreign land. I might be in the worst of my extreme moods. Hope future holds a nice surprise. Fingers Crossed.

I openly say it. I am looking for love. I am looking for a person for myself. I am looking for endless trust in some stranger; for late night conversations; for making plans with someone. I am definitely. If I say this to my family even to my own sister, she will just shush me or ask me to concentrate on my career or that these things are useless. But I can’t help feeling this way. And as studies say, this is a normal feeling. Indeed not feeling so can be questionable.

It’s interesting how after really poised 2014, my 2015 has been full of extreme ups and downs. Good number of weddings I got to cover. Got myself a high end camera. Went on a road trip with both friends and family. Lost 6 months old phone. Friends left for higher education or corporate jobs. College over. Honours Degree. Train incident. First foreign trip on my own.  Nadal vs Fed Match Live.  Okay now as I write the bad doesn’t seem that bad. But Meh. Overall this was a mix year up till now.

Hoping for the best,

Pakhi

The Scary Ride

Okay. This thing must be shared and here I am doing the same. Took me about four months to get over the fear and let each one of you know. I am a photographer and I keep travelling. It’s my job. And on the top of it I love it. Like any of you I would think train journeys are safe. Just chain up your luggage and take care of your stuff rest all is fine. Trains are crowded and no can do anything. I mean that was the last thing I could have thought of happening in a train; Happening with me rather. We were three of us who got out tickets done in tatkaal. It was Bangalore to Delhi Rajdhani which we boarded from Bhopal. We were in a second AC coach and had three consecutive side uppers. I was on the second one from the door. At around 1 am we retreated to our seats. After listening to music and making an attempt to sleep, I dozed off somehow only to feel some cold hands raising my top and touching my back. Since I was sleepy much and because this idea was never fed into my brain that trains can be risky in more than one way, I just shifted a little, covered myself properly and my half-conscious state went back to sleep again. After half an hour or so the incident repeated and this time I got up shocked. I saw a tall darkman looking straight into my eyes from the curtains and asking if had any problem. To my horror he was not even a fellow passenger but the coach attendee. I wanted to scream only if I could. Somehow I managed to shout him away and quickly called my sisters who were on the nearby side uppers. We three couldn’t sleep then.  Delhi Station was to come around 6 30-7 am. Around 5 am people hadn’t gotten up yet. Curtains were still pulled down when this mother fucker comes again and pulls both my curtains and scares the hell out of me. The saddest part of the story was even though I thought I was a brave enough girl, I could handle such situations with courage, I couldn’t. All I got was a seed of fear sown inside me. While that shameless guy, passed us again telling the passengers the station was about to arrive dripping a fake innocence from his face. My elder sister did stop him,tried to threaten him, and asked his credentials. People around also started to speak up while the victim remained quiet. I feel pathetic about the way I acted. Why couldn’t have I just caught his collar or kicked him in his balls, have thrown him out on the station and made a scene. For the moment may be he got panicky but no one saw a guilty man in him.Such shame! Like regular people, we got off the train when Delhi arrived; busy into our daily routine. We did nothing. Few days later news appeared on TV about a gang of attendees molesting female passengers in Rajdhani. It got me chilled again. You know what was the worst thing? That particular gang was out free enjoying their little fun,while the women who managed to file complaints were facing problems such as phone calls and messages from unknown numbers. It literally took me about four months to get over that small but disturbing incident and take a night journey again. Thankfully my parents are not such that they made me sit home and take rest from my work, but had me hear some bold stories from their life to make me learn how to face and react when in such situations.

Please share this with your female friends. Take care. Be Bold. Don't Stop Enjoying. Travel. It's such a sad state of affairs but Just be Prepared. 

Pakhi

Bindi

I have my final semester exams in like three days so ek post toh bantaa hai. The preparation leave seems stretchy and I know I shouldn't say it until I am done with my exams with a decent score but seriously. Even though I haven't covered one or two units in each subject, I still don't feel like doing it. To kill my boredom I went to watch Piku. And god bless my movie fanatic dad never says No to watching films. The movie started with putting a red bindi on the I's as the titles rolled on. My heart started popping out. Then the gorgeous Deepika Padukone appeared on the big screen and my heart remained popped out. Her Delhi girl look. Oh My Goddddd ( Janice way,  refer to F.R.I.E.N.D.S). I have some sort of love with the Indian Style :p  Piku aka Deepika defined today's modern Indian girl. A woman who feels proud in beholding the responsibilities of her family and a woman who is no longer confined to the matrix of virginity or non-virginity to prove her metal in the society. I might not completely see myself in that above definition considering the later part but I definitely support it. 

I am not here giving out the story of the film, you can Google it, or please get out and watch how everyday scenes and dialogues  have been beautifully put by Shoojit Sircaar. I am here to discuss how I am taking this last PL. So I got 5D Mark 3 few days back and wohooo like always exams interrupted, I hardly got to practice it. But when I watched Piku and that Bindi, I had to combine the both. I simply couldn't resist myself.

And then began the story of Self Portraits. (Next time I will have camera on tripod clicking me) 

      

All pictures have been taken in a trouser and Tee. Moms dupatta can do wonders, I swear. 

So much in love.

Pakhi (sounds much like Piku :P ) 

The Batch Party

And again. Another party. I am sitting on the couch, broken. It's our batch party,EI batch party finally happening and where else do they do it these days? A pub? Dark with florescent light crisscrossing you, loud super loud music that almost tears my ear drums apart. And People, of course they are supposed to lose their mind in such cacophony and dance away like some mad men. Argh, my dress is vibrating now. They have asked me to come and join them on the dance floor, but how can I ? And I don't blame them for whatever they might be thinking of me. I have come here, done my duty as a part of this batch and now that the work is done, can I please go home? I am ready to skip the tempting lunch that is waiting to be eaten when this sweaty dance floor takes some rest. I want to run away as quietly and as quickly as possible. People are coming time to time, how good of them to be giving me company, I like the comfort it gives, someones presence when you find yourself just with yourself. But then they are meant to dance, and go away, and I have to let them with a smile. I cursed myself but couldn't quite help the tears that trickled down my face. A girl noticed and I lied it was coz' of the high amount of noise this place is producing, although I myself don't know the reason. It happens each time I am here. Is it coz’ this dark room screams my failures? Dance really? There was a time I used to be a pro when it came to classical. So I am sure it's not my clumsy dance, there are so many here, who just raise their hands up in the hair, move it forward and back with a little shake of head not necessarily in sync and balancing weight once on the left and then on the right foot; and they seem to pretty much enjoy themselves even when its clearly not a dance form. Dad was right, why to be someone you are not? Daddy because of becauses. Because I didn't want to be the girl who they think is filled with attitude. Because I wanted to contribute my bit to the class. Because I was excited to dress up, only I didn't know I would be left shy by the time I am done with the whole decorating yourself business. Because this was I thought one last time and wrongly judged that I was prepared to bear the torture this place offers me, without fail, time and again. Because of friends and relationships. Because of becauses as I said.


No one has come to me for some time now and I think I am really going to doze off. This couch has got a nice cushioning and I have my head resting on it. As I write this and feel the warmth of the soft cushiony side of the sofa, I am alarmed by this bearded guy that lunch is ready. Finally! I sighed. No not coz’ I was hungry, indeed I had lost my appetite three hours back. But coz’ it was going to be over. Some people are just not made for such things. Like for example, you see there, that girl who is going to be Miss Eve for today, she has been been dancing as if the world doesn't exist and it’s her and only her present. The pub is her home, as if. She is made for this set up. Me? I feel like an alien unable to grasp the rhythm of these flickering lights. After the last track of noise, DJ left the station with a soothing song hovering in the air, ‘ yaad aayenge yeh college days...’ (my special request, twas’). Some cried, some sighed, some consoled while some like me had no idea of what was going. I just wanted a soothing relatable song to end the party with, however I was hardly feeling the lyrics. The idea of separation hasn't hit my chords yet. I wonder why.

Coming back to the party, people read out anonymously written confessions where one guy mentioned he doesn't quite understand me. Me and him, we have so strong principles and opinions of our own, we are bound to not have very cool air between us. His writing that hardly had an impact upon me, but the fact that sometimes even I don’t get me, is what is disturbing. You know like who am I ? How can a practical girl be called the crying kid too. No doubt I was given the title Drama Queen. I might be one. After the Miss Eve and Mr Eve were presented to the deserved candidates, we proceeded out, everyone clicking themselves with everybody else. The headache and heel ache was so strong that I could have killed anybody then and there, had they tried to have any sort of argument with me. All I wanted was to go home, be in my comfy wear and to sleep into my dreams. The stoppage at Ankita’s where I changed into slippers, gave me a relief. Who the hell came with this whole idea of heels? How do those celebrities dance in these stuff? Even mine were quality enough, I guess in INR 3700, one is bound to buy good stuff only, still they hurted like hell. I scrutinized peoples cell phones and camera to check the blue dress me, if by chance, and hurray, at least the pics came out okayish enough to keep for long.


Now I am back home, in my lowers and a loose T finishing off what I had scribbled during the party. The only feelgood part of the whole thing was, all of the people present really seemed to have enjoyed the last party together; Days of discussions  and bunks had finally paid off. Cheers to that.


Here I am signing off, giving a little massage to my swollen feet thinking does everybody think so much? care so much? Or is it just pms talking?


Pakhi

That Sad Phase

"Sometimes it feels better not to talk, at all. about anything, to anyone."


I found myself crying in the morning. I found myself getting hurt for a petty small taunt by mom. Later, when dad screamed that the girl has gone mad. Both didn't know of what was going in me deep. I got ready for college. And then I found myself shedding tears in bus too. Seriously what has gone terribly wrong with me. A month back I was awesome. Barney awesome. It's just of the 24 hours we get in a day, I am able to give only an hour to home and family. And sometimes not even that much. Even mom is having a hard time in school but she is the mom. She manages everything. And I know it's her right to expect and shout, it brings you on the right track but I am helpless presently. I have no idea how to manage my day more well than what I am doing right now. I have no idea how to make people understand my current situation without blaming me. 

Past few days have been so rough on me. Especially when I realized, I hardly share my day with anyone. I was crying and I didn't know whom to call or text to. For me its college which eats up my hours, with no output, except for the fun I have with classmates which is equally important. Then I have to have to hit the gym, that one hour to body in the whole day, may whatever comes, isn't a very selfish thing, is it? Editing is always in the list, there are constant shoots by God's grace and constant client calls for pictures and the need to keep facebook page up to date. So editing is a must, that's my work, I get paid for that, there is no way skipping it. College assignments and tests hardly matter but you need to skim the syllabus at times, it's normal. Weekends are booked for shoots and meetings. Meeting clients, meeting and maintaining the social cobweb that got netted all through these years. Sleeps on an average consume 6hours on daily basis, else I usually fall sick either physically or mentally. I have even stopped watching TV, finally realized the Indian drama isn't  worth your time, at least not when you are fighting for few minutes for yourself in the entire day. Guests are a regular affair at my place with mom needing my help and if not that, the presence. See, I don't want to sound very weak and feeble and I don't want to blame time, but I am working on how can I give everybody and everything a part of my 24hours. Like any other human I constantly need a cup of coffee with friends to keep me going and to keep me happy. I don't want to miss out on those outings which only comes at this age and enjoyed at this age. I don't want to compromise when it comes to traveling be it anywhere. And I don't want to do all it with a guilty heart. Before people I love are in different parts of the world, before it becomes more tough to catch up, I fancy to build up as many memories as I can. I want to have stories to tell. I know leaving Indore will change the scenario completely. Especially for mom and me. Both of us will learn to live on our own, living without each other's presence. But until that, I wish a magical spray.

I don't know why I post my diary entries in public. Whenever I am going through something, I write. I blog, because this way I feel, at least I am not forcing them on to anyone in particular. People are reading with free will. And it makes me happy. Because if I am asked to pinpoint whether I know a person who would want to hear my sad stories, I guess I will have a no for an answer. They can want me for fun, for stupidity, for clicking their pictures but none for a sad note. They can empathize for once but nobody I know can really feel it or who won't get tired of the dull and cranky me. I seek for the later. I don't want to waste my mood and energy on people who will feel they just rotted off their time with me. There are moments when there is literally nothing to share but a wish for big wide hug and to be wrapped up in arms that can feel my pain, to be not thought as the girl gone senti-mad but to be in arms that care. To be asked, if I am alright or if I feel any better even when I lie I am. To be respected even when the sad me sounds a total nutcase. 

I wish a magical spray. 

Pakhi 

Women's Day.Happy?

8th March, 2015. International Women's Day. Facebook is flooded with wishes for Women's day. There are status updates and inbox messages. I did one as well. Boys and girls all have googled some decent quotes and shared on their walls. Today Newspaper reads "Happy Women's Day" In bold. But Yesterday the story was different. Yesterday Times front page read, "another Nirbhaya  case seen in Gujrat", tomorrow again, I am certain, more Nirbhayas will be produced. Sick. It's disgusting. Walking alone on a street swamped with males, isn't a very pleasing experience. Has never been. Those eyes, scrutinizing her boobs and ass, rating her down and commenting as she passes by; and that alone isn't enough. Some whistle, some make noise as if they have already had their dick into her vagina. If the girl isn't his desired figure, then god save her from those displeasing comments. And here I am not only talking of those illiterate men who come up from small towns in search of jobs and betterment and are appalled to see women drivers, women waiters, women doctors as compared to a veiled woman hidden in their homes. I am talking of the other half as well. The other educated half who are not ashamed to show their middle finger to a lady passerby. Who show no signs of guilt even when caught leching. And who then on social networking site wish a Happy women's day decorated with emojis. Who themselves are tripling on a two wheeler, driving rash and faced accidents yet are insolent enough to place remarks on the woman driving the next vehicle. Born with an elephant size ego, they can't accept a woman overtaking them even on roads, leave  jobs and rest. Even in this 21st century, I, a woman, is scared to walk alone on empty streets. Scared to ask for help from a group of boys because they don't appear humans that will extend help to a fellow human being; but thirsty animals hunting for a prey to fall into their trap. I am scared as shit. Every day they hurt me for my looks. They hurt me for what I do. They comment on me for being too girly or too boyish. Emotionally I am bruised. My heart aches as they rate me day and night and I can't raise my voice. Because mom says, Let them, or you might welcome scars that might never fade. Let them, keep shush. Let them, else society will talk. Let them otherwise the next moment you will find yourself fighting for your life. Let them. You keep shush...

Is it really a Happy Women's Day?
Pakhi 

Picture by my favorite Nirrimi Firebrace