You thought you did someone a favor?

If you think you've done someone a favor which entitles you to have an upper hand over that someone, then think again. For all you know, you owe a great deal of gratitude and also apologies to this planet for allowing you to stay here and turn it into the junkyard that you have. And amidst a bunch of a whole lot of those that have wronged their land of survival, there's some equally righteous and wise individuals who reinstate your faith in humanity. So, if you thought there are people who've obliged you and helped you a great deal, then think again. What you may perceive as an act of support or kindness may be nothing more than a duty on someone's part.

For some reason it has become imperative for humans to validate their goodness and morality to the world outside. So much so that helping someone out has either become an act of retaliation or a deed performed with expectations. Be it a lover, nurturer, life-giver, companion, or a soulmate, human relationships have, with time, lost their essence and become more platonic. When I use the word   "platonic" I mean to intertwine the elements of condition and give-only-to-take, along with a superficial state of being. Have you ever carefully observed a mother pigeon? It gives the best lesson in performing one's duties in life without expecting anything in return. A pigeon, who looks very innocent and harmless, nurtures its eggs with ample care and warmth, and builds a shelter in the form of a nest to protect them. As soon as the eggs hatch, the mother pigeon ensures that it shields the squabs from any attackers, and at the same time it encourages them to be independent to take care of themselves in her absence. The reason why the mother pigeon encourages her young ones to become independent is that she knows that soon they will outgrow the nest and will fly away from her; and they wouldn't be able to survive if they remained under shadow. She doesn't have any expectations that her babies will come back to her, and despite that she continues to support them whole-heartedly right till the time they spread their wings into the sky.

Today, more often than not, one finds conditions every time he/she establishes a relationship or tries to define one. The word "duty" has always ranked at the top in the list of things that have been regarded as a human's prime focus but, from the looks of it, we seem to have redefined the term as per human convenience. And it weighs us down, morally and otherwise, keeping a track of all the times that somebody has shown gratitude to us. If one happens to think, then he/she would not be surprised to know that our lives are becoming increasingly automated. Every action is perfectly balanced by a calculated input of emotions and animation, while responding to a need or concern.

After a long time of experiencing unwarranted joy in doing what I then thought were favors, I've come to a conclusion. Taking pride in doing a favor would only mean allowing one's character to be deemed immature. We would exhaust the element of gratitude within us if we happen to measure our indebtedness to the world. Just imagine the price we will have to pay if the sun started asking for royalty, our planet started quoting astronomical amounts for renting out space, all the oceans decided to tax us, trees acted pricey for giving away oxygen and adding to the beauty among various other hidden prices that we have been exempted from. There's only one favor you can do to yourself, and that it to base your actions keeping in mind that you owe a great deal to the world. 

Emoji rank holders

In the world of Internet, which is abuzz and crowded with the presence of Google, mails, Facebook and YouTube, emojis (they are not just smileys) have seamlessly made their way on all the major messaging and social networking platforms. Be it professing earnest love for someone using a pumping heart, confirming your presence for a house party using  '👍', or telling someone that you're on the verge of retreating into the dream world with the help of '💤', enough emojis exist to express the Internet population's constantly changing state of mind.

For some, emojis may just be another feature that strives to enhance the experience of messaging but, in my opinion, emojis have left no stone unturned to indulge the users and lure them into a world of caricatures. We may consider emojis too insignificant to discuss them at length, and so, in an attempt to turn the spotlight on them and underscore their glory, I've come up with a list of 10 emojis that I love using the most, and have tried analyzing them.

 1)

Name: Heart-eyes

Popularity: 6 out of 10 users

Significance: To express happiness induced with wild love.

Frequency of misuse: Since this emoji contains hearts, there is a likelihood that some may get hopeful and misconstrue this for a sign of ambitious love. Nonetheless, this emoji is quite commonly used on group chats and has, so far, made for pleasant use.

Mostly used/viewed on: WhatsApp and Instagram

2) 

Name: Laughing with tears in eyes

Popularity: 9 out of 10 users

Significance: It is mostly used along with a funny message/statement, or while reacting to a joke or a hilarious WhatsApp Forward.

Frequency of misuse: Even though this emoji is used to express light-heartedness, if used on the wrong occasion or as a response to something said with sincerity, it can lead to doubtfulness over your character, although the frequency does not seem very high.

Mostly used/seen on: WhatsApp, Instagram and Facebook Messenger

3)                                              

Name: Pile of poo

Popularity: 4 out of 10 users

Significance: To express total dissatisfaction with a smile or convey playfulness.

Frequency of misuse: Since it is not as commonly used as many other emojis, and also because of its fun-loving appearance, it has very few chances of being misused. 

Mostly used/seen on: WhatsApp and Twitter

4)

Name: Folding hands

Popularity: 6 out of 10 users

Significance: To convey gratitude and heartfelt regards

Frequency of misuse: The chances of misusing this emoji are almost nil.

Mostly used/seen on: WhatsApp  

                                                 

5)

                                                

Name: OK hand

Popularity: 7 out of 10 users

Significance: Are you too bored of typing a long message to show your agreement to a WhatsApp forward? Are you a meme lover who generally likes to comment on the ones that are hilarious? If

yes, then you must have certainly used this emoji to give your approval. 

    Frequency of misuse: There are way too many emojis out there to tamper with to misuse this

    innocuous hand gesture.

    Mostly used/seen on: WhatsApp and Facebook Messanger

6)

                                                    

Name: Closed eyes

Popularity: 6 out of 10 users

Significance: If you've embarrassed someone, or if your secrets have been revealed, then you would want to use this emoji.  I'm sure. 

Frequency of misuse: This monkey of Gandhiji is too cute and honest to be mistaken for something gross unless one happens to use it along with a sensible statement, which dilutes the impact of the message.

Mostly used/seen on: Facebook, Facebook Messenger and WhatsApp

7)

 Name: Dancing lady

 Popularity: 7 out of 10 users 

 Significance: I don't think there is any better way to express craziness and excitement, both, when

 your plan for a weekend getaway with your close buddies has been approved by everyone than by

 indulging this woman in red.

 Frequency of misuse: To those who think their parents or their cultured 60-year-old uncle on his

 birthday could be the recipients of this emoji, you don't want to fall in their eyes.

 Mostly used/seen on: Facebook and WhatsApp

8)               

Name: Grimace-face

Popularity: 9 out of 10 users

Significance: This smiley is very relatable for it is akin to all the times that you've gritted your teeth with anger, or when situations have not been favorable. And when you can recreate that same expression while messaging, you can sit back and feel good about how at least a smiley acknowledges your feelings during times of distress.

Frequency of misuse: This, according to me, is, by far, the most misused emoji. How can one use it to convey plain denial or, for that matter, to express regards! Yes, I have seen many humans do that.

Mostly used/seen on: Facebook Messenger and WhatsApp

9)                     

Name: Beating Heart

Popularity: 10 out of 10 users

Significance: Who doesn't want to be loved! And when you see a visual of someone's heart beating for you, you're ought to feel special.

Frequency of misuse: Like it is commonly said, and rightly so, one heart can have many takers, and you want to ensure that you don't want those who are not deserving of it. 

Mostly used/seen on: Facebook, Facebook Messenger, Instagram and WhatsApp.                               

                                                                       

10)

Name: Disappointed face

Popularity: 8 out of 10 users

Significance: To convey your displeasure or to show that you are let down in a cute way. 

Frequency of misuse: The chances of misrepresenting this emoji are very dim. Just look at that harmless face!

Mostly used/seen on: WhatsApp

The one very good thing that has happened with the advent of emojis is that it has introduced the concept of expression in the lives of those who may otherwise have never winked or sported an astonished or a ''rolling on the floor laughing'' face had it not been for these emojis. For now, let's acknowledge the ease and comfort that emojis and d SMS language hve brought abt in d world of messagin.

                 

                 

        

   

Long live the Samsung bravado

 Apple: I hear you explode?
Samsung: It's okay to surprise after being in the market for almost 2 decades!

It's a Friday evening and I'm driving back home from a day's retreat in Lonavala. My handset has buzzed for the umpteenth time in the last three-and-a-half years, and I, with just the sound of my phone vibrating, get shaken up from my ecstasy-induced state as a result of the surprise finding of the AUX wire in the car, which ensured that music was just one touch away throughout the car journey. Literally. Parting with a phone seems akin to parting with a companion who has stood by you through thick and thin. And this day was supposed to mark the end of my alliance with Samsung Note 2, as I was going to be greeted by a supposedly more in vogue and swanky handset once I happened to reach home. An iPhone was now going to take the place of a new best friend, who was willing to see me through till I got another phone after it. How I wish even humans could offer this kind of companionship!

While I pen this post down, I steal frequent glances at my white Samsung Note 2, which has just been replaced by a matte black iPhone. And this reinstates my conviction about why I should dedicate a blog post to what is deserving of a tribute simply for the significance it has held in my life. And moreover, it will keep reminding me that I need not turn my back on an old mate just because of the arrival of a new one; and, in this case, it is an iPhone that I'm referring to, and many an iPhone user happen to believe that if you've used what is at the heart of the Apple family, one rarely goes back to using another phone. Like, okay! I'm assuming that this post will serve as a proof to the fact that my old mate was a victim of quite a few accidents, all thanks to my random dropping. Three years from now (I so look forward to growing at least three years older with my iPhone), I wish to continue reminiscing the sturdy (literally) moments of my phone, which include needlessly subjecting it to 15 hours of charging continuously during my long sleep hours, and surviving a fall from a height of 5 feet just after 2 days of getting it, while sending it into a state of isolation for a week among others.

The time was 9:54 p.m. I anxiously rang the doorbell and started to look around the passage till the door opened. And here I was with what would go down as my fourth handheld device! I plonked on the couch with the box containing my iPhone and unapologetically overlooked everything else and focused all my attention on the faultless packaging of the phone. My father, who had just returned from a three-week-long trip to the US had been conveniently ignored in the presence of all the goodies that surrounded me. Suddenly the 5.5 inch touchscreen display of my old handset looked enormous in front of my iPhone 7's dainty appearance. Literally. I say this without any exaggeration that I was consumed by its varied and unique-to-itself features, but my bond with my old device hadn't come to an end yet. I loved how my Samsung device, unlike its human counterparts, showed exemplary courage and strength of character, while getting a full view of me exploring my Apple device and somehow assuring me that it would always be available as a back-up companion during a crisis. I was surprised to know how its steadfastness made me less possessive about my capable-to-cause-a-hole-in-one's-pocket iPhone.

By the time this post gets published, my iPhone would've almost completed a week. And I'm sure my heart would bleed more with every passing day, when I see people around me using their iPhones carelessly, while I try my best to ensure that mine doesn't meet the same fate as my Samsung Note 2 in its first week, which, in my knowledge, would make me an accused in the eyes of many. And also, I seriously do not want to feign bravery with my iPhone around as I'm not sure if it would be able to sustain any hardships the way my Samsung Note 2 did. It is no surprise then that silent warriors create a legacy of their own, which is second to none.

Of suppressed libido and Indian taboos

Everyone, at some point in their lives, have heard legends that encapsulate how the human species evolved and how men, since time immemorial, have embodied the role of food gatherers, whereas women, on the other hand, have immortalized their role as nurturers. As much as both the genders have depended on their instinctive roles which, not to forget, have ably seen them through over the years, there has hardly been any buzz about how the male and female species have evolved over the last few years, and how the male dominance has presented itself in the 21st century.

It is barely a surprise that when porn was banned in India, three years ago, fewer women were affected than their male counterparts. Pornography was one of the channels that gave an aggressive boost to the male hormones and placated their sexual urges, while motivating them to replicate the actions from porn films in bed. So, when there was a blanket ban on porn across India, a long round of Chinese whispers about the repercussions of the ban and worries about what other exciting activity should the 9 p.m. slot be replaced with were inevitable. And the worry was totally justified, especially when there was a multitude of things at stake, including nightfall, fear of suffering from erectile dysfunction or, for that matter, the chance to inadvertently assume the right to a woman's naked body. And forgoing so much just to keep the sanity of the sacrosanct Indian culture intact did not seem viable for Indian men, especially when men are known to view sex as a basic human requirement, which is independent of a marital bond.

Somewhere down the line, Indians have failed themselves by assuming that by putting a ban on pornography, a person's wild fantasies cannot be tamed, and that its consumption cannot be totally stopped. On the contrary, thanks to the burgeoning Internet scene, enough vulnerable and naive minds have been lured to see the likes of Sunny Leone and Mia Khalifa at their best, and access sex tapes from sources other than porn websites to satisfy their desperate hormones. And to add to the woes of the common man, the news of a few politicians, who were caught watching porn inside their cabins managed to make the social fabric of the country all the more creaky. I think it's high time the country got awakened and let democracy reign supreme at a time when the the youth's libido and their sexual hormones demand a concrete outlet.

I just realized that although the taboo attached to sex is still widespread in India, there is a significant decline in people's refusal to discuss the topic that facilitates reproduction every time it is broached. Nonetheless, most Indian kids still avoid talking about sex with their parents who once told them that babies are gifts sent by god from heaven, who take a landing on the mother's abdomen from the skies.

Muted genius

Golden Sniffer - Lucky

I've stated on many an occasion, through my writing and otherwise, my love for animals.  And as staunchly and passionately as I believe in animal causes, surprisingly, this wasn't the case until a few years ago. Why, you may ask? I have been motivated to be kind and considerate towards the non-human species by my 8-year-old, prodigal golden retriever. For someone whose life has been enough of a revelation, and has managed to tap into my family's unexplored love for animals, he (using "it" for animals is one of the greatest miseries of life) has ably managed to convey what the purpose of his existence is in a way that would ask for altering every individual's outlook, when he/she takes into consideration the animal race. So, after having been a witness to my pooch's concerns and servile demeanor for over eight years, I've decided to make an attempt to decipher his emotions and idiosyncrasies through his letter I imagine him to write to the human species.

Hello humans,

I'm an eight-year-old, four-legged being, or as y'all call me, "dog". My life revolves around my human family, food, and my toys. Although I love to play fetch, I often end up running away with the ball/frisbee. I dread going to the vet and being put on a diet. I like being called well-behaved and disciplined by people, and that's because it helps me believe that I have not let my family down. I get deeply pained when I see stray dogs being ill-treated and abused. I sometimes feel like asking if y'all are doing the right thing by breeding us, when there are thousands among us who are severely disregarded and often left to die a dog's death. Literally.

I was bought by my family from a breeder in Pune when I was 6 weeks old. I feel fortunate to have come into a family who loves me and shows concern for me, but there are animals who have been abandoned just because their families found it rather difficult to look after them. My sincere request to y'all is that please don't make us a part of your life just to look cool or to up your status. You may move on in life after abandoning us, but our lives become a wreck. We feel like our soul has been sold. Not many people would be aware about the impact of abuse in our lives. We obey your commands out of love and respect, and, at times, out of fear, but that in no way takes away from the instances when we are forced to dance to your tunes. We are not puppets.

I have often seen people lift us up and run after those that fear us for their own entertainment. We get absolutely terrified, and often fear for our lives, when this stunt is performed. Have you experienced the irritation of loud music that is blaring from a speaker placed right next to your ear, combined with someone screaming his/her lungs out at the same time? That's exactly how much the noise gets amplified, when it reaches our ears, every time crackers are burst. A lot of you may wonder why it is difficult for us to accept the permanent entry of other animals into our foster homes. In this case, we are just like those kids who remain the cynosure of their parents' eyes for a long time until a younger sibling comes into their lives and takes away all the attention from them, except, in our case, we face a much worse battle, and, sometimes, we find it almost impossible to part with our family's care and attention.

I have no qualms in admitting that the human species is the most superior and developed of the animal species, but do you ever wonder what the point of being the most evolved species is if all that we see happening around are wars. We, animals, are grateful to all of you for supporting the non-human race in the way that y'all have, but there are times when your ego levels inflate to such an extent that y'all end up relegating us to a place under the carpet, and consider us to be second-handers, who, because of their inability to convey emotions, are thought to be mere spectators. All I would like to say, through this note, is that let us all work towards creating a world that is truly fair and compassionate towards all the species that form a part of our life's journey.

Regards,
A muted soul

One tight slap

It was a long, exasperating day! As I climbed up the stairs leading upto my house, my right calf was beginning to feel numb. "I exerted myself a bit too much, today," I thought for a fleeting moment. As I was about to enter my house, I was greeted by a dozen uninvited guests who were waiting for the door to open. These guests were regulars at my house. It was just another day when everyone at home exchanged helpless and disgusted glances upon seeing them. It was yet another day for my 8-year-old golden retriever, who rushed towards the main door just to turn around as soon as he sensed the guests' restlessness to get in. Despite trying every hack to look normal and retain my sanity, I was unable to keep myself from frowning.

Hunger was beckoning from a long time. With every passing minute, the noisy guests seemed to be losing their patience. The we-are-here-for-food guests looked like they had not eaten in ages. No sooner did I sit down to savor my cheese sandwich than the guests create a furore and started to hover around my chair to get a chance to satiate their hunger. On the one hand, if the young guests looked like amateurs who could barely fend for themselves, the older group members had a way with their actions and tricks, and seemed to be totally at ease with what was perceived of them. If the guests on my left were buzzing with excitement, the ones on my right grimaced and looked disgruntled as soon as they realized my reluctance to offer them what they were anxiously waiting for.

The cheese that was added to the sandwich was melted. Some of it had dripped out of the two slices of bread and settled on the outer crust of the bread slices. My first bite of the sandwich was exhilarating. As I went about relishing every bite of the soft, velvety sandwich, I sensed that I had dropped some of the cheese on the floor, but surprisingly, none of the guests looked interested in feasting on the cheesy meal. I tried all the possible ways to tire them out, which included extending my dinner session. Despite my persistent efforts to ruin their chances of meeting with success, when it came to being driven out of the house, the gang, which consisted of some vicious-looking members, had already decided to stick around till their purpose was served. It was 10 p.m. by the time I finished devouring my meal. My yawns ceased to stop. I had to be up by 6 a.m. the next day. It felt as if the guests' energy levels had got a fillip. They looked all gung-ho to defend anyone and everyone who tried to shoo them away. And I, for one, had given up on their not-so-discreet antics to gain attention. "I must no more waste my time tackling such insensitive beings," I thought to myself and switched off the lights in my room.

15 minutes into resting my droopy eyes,  I started tossing and turning in the bed. The room temperature was ideal for a sound sleep. I soon started to hear a faint buzzing sound. The sound became more intense as I opened my eyes. As someone who was not one bit amused to open my eyes to the unpleasant sound made by the young guests, I took no time in pulling aside my floral-print blanket. I immediately reached for the switchboard and turned on all the lights in my room. Wide awake, now, I realised that some of the guests had crept in my room. My focus soon shifted to the one who had already begun feasting on my blood. By now, there was already enough build-up of anger, fatigue, irritation, and restlessness to take a revenge. With all the physical force and mental power, I struck my right calf.  Bravo, I had finally managed to pin the big, fat enemy down! The sight of a bloody calf made me heave a sigh of relief. I felt like I had won a long-standing battle. And guess what, my numb right calf finally regained its sensation with that one tight slap. 

When I went bra shopping

Shhh...be a little soft. Or better still, use the code 131217. Always make sure your bra straps don't peep out of your top/T-shirt. Try and keep it between your clothes after folding it, so that no one can see it.
That's the most literal translation of Indian mentality towards a garment that holds the power to embarrass Indian men and women alike.

On the one hand, if 32B is considered to be undesirable and not lustful enough to grab a man's attention, 36C falls under the category of being drab and not making the right cut. And, if 32B seems child-like, 36C tries too hard to fit in. Pun intended. And in such a scheme of things, 34B, which nicely strikes a balance between being not too little and not too much, while maintaining a decent average, seems like the most apt size to flaunt. And with this size, no one can ever judge you for wearing tight clothes; and moreover, you will never be told by the shopkeeper ''Yeh size mein sirf do colors hai; ek black our ek white.''

I have always been quite fascinated with the concept of lingerie shopping. As futile and not-worthy-of-being-time-consuming an exercise as this may seem to some, it is always nice to invest in something that makes you feel good. Unlike the scenario in malls, local lingerie shops usually just have the store owner and one or two employees that you have to deal with. And usually if the shopkeeper is a male, he wouldn't take the greatest pride in showing the variety of bras that are in stock. He is usually very grim and gives a sense of how because he has no choice but to do what he does. The lingerie section in malls, on the other hand, has a much relaxed atmosphere. You see a wider range of bras on display. Nobody is conscious or hesitant, or atleast that's what one makes of their behavior. Be it a fancy, push-up bra or an uber-cool lace bra with all the possible stylish detailing, malls make the experience of bra shopping very significant and adventurous, unlike the experience of purchasing lingerie off a hawker or at a local lingerie store which are located across from a busy street, where you inadvertently let every passer-by in on your list of specifications while looking for a bra.

Last week I went to a local lingerie shop. As I was browsing through the collection, the price tag on a beautifully padded, blue bra read Rs 1499/- Upon seeing this price tag, I thought to myself if I should invest so much money into something that was only meant for optimizing my personal satisfaction. Next to me was a young couple who was trying hard to find the right kind of lingerie for the woman. The man apparently looked like he had been forced by his wife to stand beside her, while she shopped for what the man felt was a little too embarrassing for him to be do. The store employee felt equally shy to show their new spring summer collection of bras, which the woman is keen on seeing, around her husband. At one point, when the woman went inside the trial room, her husband performed the act of disappearing under the pretext of answering a phone call. Just then, a bunch of college girls entered the shop. They asked the shop owner to show them some high-quality lingerie to which the shopkeeper replied by asking about the size in which they were looking for bras. Not knowing her exact size, a girl promptly said that she was not sure about her size and asked for her size to be measured. Her girl friends suddenly broke into a fit of laughter, like the teens they were, upon encountering this scene, and left no stone unturned to leave the shopkeeper embarrassed. My attention, by then, had been fully diverted from the purpose of my visit to the banter that was unfolding in a step-by-step fashion.

As the wife proceeded to pay the bill, while trying to track her husband, the husband rushed inside the store to check on his wife and see if she was done making the purchase. His wife, who was grinning after making the purchase, excitedly started talking about how very few shops offered what she was looking for, and how her search for the kind of bras she was looking for ended with that store. And this time, it was me who burst into laughter, thinking about the husband's plight, and embarrassed him enough to make him hold his wife's hand and lead her outside the shop, while gesturing her to be a little soft, because at the end of the day, it was the B-word we were dealing with, and like some Indian women rightly say, "Shhh...be a little soft while talking about it."

I'm different!

I would like to quote author Fabienne Fredrickson, who once said, "The process of letting go of a false pretense makes you feel better as a person." Pondering over this saying enlivens all my moments of fake intensity and platonic happiness, which acted as a veneer to mask my countless insecurities and limitations. In the past, I've resorted to escapism as a route to gaining momentary pleasures and satisfaction, because I had distorted the reality of my life. Every single thing that was said or done was sensed as a conspiracy to demean and downgrade the foundation to my being. And little did I know, back then, when my chips were down, that it wasn't the world that had joined forces to alienate me. It was me who tried distancing myself from my own perspectives and prerogatives under the pretext of thinking that the world, which included people I had grown up loving and reposed immense faith in, was on a mission to tuck me under the carpet. Sometimes its wise to accept that you are the culprit in your own life.

The black dots kept increasing. And at times, some white dots made their way past the black dots very rapidly. I tried as hard as I could to close my eyes if I saw the white dots increasing in number. They distracted my focus, while I sat in a meditative state, cross-legged and hands folded. It seemed like the white dots were trying to encroach not only upon my vision, but also on my efforts to try and rid myself of unwarranted thinking and the fear of being relegated to the position of pleasing everyone. After 10 minutes of struggling to obtain a state of absolute nothingness and trying to place myself somewhere between being correct and incorrect, a picture replaced the many-black-and-some-white dots. It was a picture of me. And it represented idealism. It represented what "good" actually was. It was certainly not my conscience. Conscience takes you in a direction that you have established your thoughts in, whereas that picture went a step ahead to establish a new boundary and refurbished my tarnished conscience. After almost having forgotten to live with mental boundaries, and drawing a line between what was good and bad, every night of sitting with closed eyes and chanting a few hymns was my way of detoxifying my mind. It was high time I thanked more than I complained. It is true that sometimes utter confusion and pretense bring about a wave of serenity, which washes away all the past debacles, and gives you new reasons to hope.

For endless days, once I started retaining my peace of mind, I kept pinching myself to check if I wasn't dreaming. How else do you justify being on a totally different tangent in a short span of time by challenging yourself to all the things that you were hesitant to do owing to what would be thought and spoken about by many! I started trying to avoid conversations that revolved around gossiping. And that was mainly because I realized that, in the past, that was the very thing that kept me from getting closer to my real self. I had never realized that I had a choice to say no.  I no more wanted to struggle to find my voice in the chaos. I didn't want to be a part of the herd. I had decided that I was more important than a person's ego and misgivings: and if I wanted, I could turn a blind eye to what someone said or did. It was time to balance the inner equilibrium and make it so stable that no amount of soothing words or harsh taunts could ever tamper with it.  Soon everything started becoming an illusion. And the best past was that the illusion had no right or wrong. If my picture showed me what "good'' meant, it also let me interpret whether an illusion was good or bad, in keeping with my sanity.

The path I have chosen is my own. And what's special about my path is that it is unique to me. I don't want to share it with anyone for the simple reason that others may not be able to tackle the adversities it is filled with. I would also like to believe that not everyone has the secret picture that I have. And that picture needs no validation and acceptance. And I also know that this picture will take me through my path riddled with hurdles. And no, I won't feel jealous if the path someone else has chosen promises to be filled with calm and joy rides. I'm different. That secret picture, which also talks to me, has asked me to consider that example an illusion for my own sanity.  

Father's promise

Dad's the word!

"My name is Bageshree Mehta. I'm six years old. My mother's name is Bhargavi Mehta and my father's name is Ashit Mehta. I have one older brother. I love my family. My mother is a housewife and my father is a businessman. My parents love me. My mother cooks delicious food for me everyday. My father brings chocolates for me and we eat ice-cream together. My grandparents live with me. My grandmother is sixty-four years old and she wears spectacles," read my Grade 1 English essay. This essay dates back to almost seventeen years ago, which was also the time when terms words like "mom" and "dad" were not very commonplace. As a six-year-old, my life only revolved around my parents, with my eyes opening to my mother's voice, every morning, and my father kissing my forehead every night, before going to bed.

As much as I have vouched for my kin's generosity and able guidance, there are times when I feel that I haven't quite reciprocated their love in a way that, I often feel, I should have, especially when it comes to my father. Quite often I have had to take up the gauntlet of choosing between being my mother's muse and my father's darling. As a child, one never wishes to look beyond what meets the eye. All that appeals to a child is tenderness, concern and the feeling of being loved. And a mother seems to be a perfect representative of all these qualities. My father is an opinionated man. He has faced his own share of struggles to find his way up the ladder of success. A family man, who takes great pride in what he does, my father has always ensured that his kids forge an identity of their own. Today, when I reminisce about all the memories I have with my father, I realize that I've not spent enough time with my father. And all the memories that I have of my father suddenly seem insufficient. The bliss of riding piggy-back on my father or being carried in his arms every time I fell asleep in the car cannot be relived, but I can always, and I'm certain that I will, rely on the human luxury of being able to recollect the most treasured moments of life. And I also know that the good old days will never turn their back on me, just like I know that my father will not.

As a four-year-old, my father would make me sit in his lap and become my invisible driver, while taking me on a drive. He ensured that his preschooling daughter experienced a a high in her own little way through this happening. As a ten-year-old, I was ferried to and from school in a car just so that I wouldn't have to go through the travails that the children who travelled by bus would. As a teenager, who was transitioning into the real world, my father gave me a gift so big that I could barely lay my hands upon it. Freedom it was, folks. Freedom, in the most absolute sense, never comes easy. The freedom to form my own opinions, the freedom to make my own decisions and choices, and the freedom to follow the path I deemed best for myself. Back then, when I was given the freedom to be the ruler of my own destiny, I mistook the gift to be inconsequential. Today, as a young adult, my father continues to remind me of the importance of independence and single-minded devotion, while reposing faith in my abilities and taking pride in what I do.

I, in no uncertain terms, want to say that my equation with my father is a perfect father-daughter equation. No, not at all. I'd much rather that our bond remains real rather than perfect. And, for that, I don't have anything to regret. All that has transpired in the past has only contributed to making me realize the magnanimity of the sacrifices and commitments my father has made for me. Unlike my mother, my father never woke me up in the morning and packed my tiffin before I left for school. He, in fact, worked hard enough to ensure that his children went to a good school and received the best  education. Unlike my mother, my father never sang lullabies to me, but he ensured that I received comfort and luxury in my bedroom, so that I could sleep without a worry in the world. Unlike my mother, my father never gave in to my tantrums and emotional demands. He let me tire myself out into maturing after being emotionally drained. Unlike my mother, my father never extended his hand whenever I fell down. He decided to wait for me at the success line till I dusted myself off and prepared myself to get ready, once again, and finish any given challenge.

All you need to know about Facebook

It was a Friday evening, and my excitement levels had hit rock bottom as none of my evening plans had materialized. So, during times like this, when you don't have anything better to do with your time, because you're a bored adult who has outgrown television viewing, sucks at making long telephonic conversations and frets over insignificant things, browsing the Internet to preserve your sanity seems like a safe bet.

I'm quite an active user of Facebook. I joined the Facebook bandwagon in 2009 and ever since then, Facebook has found a fixture in my daily routine. What started off as a stint, by conforming to the rage, which Facebook very conspicuously was, later became a means to get my daily dose of personal updates on the lives of my Facebook friends, who can be categorized as curious relatives, acquaintances who became friends because of Facebook, stalkers, close friends and family, and random people you befriended only to increase your Friends list.

I have had various moments of contemplation in the last few years that I have been on Facebook, when it comes to how Facebook has impacted my perception of life and how it has resurrected my judgmental streak, despite all my attempts to subside it. And, after some serious thinking, I managed to enlist the various things that Facebook has put into perspective for me. The list goes as:

1) Adding words like "princess" and "angel" between your first and last names is not going to make you look any cooler than if you didn't add those words. The world can differentiate between a princess and a normal human.

2) Hitting "Like" and typing "Amen" every time you are conned into reaching out to an uncommonly ill person will not help the person get well any sooner. Facebook is not the means to cure all of the world's problems.

3) Checking "Other Messages" on Facebook is likely to inflate your ego. But, the self-pride slowly starts fading once you begin reading the content of the messages.

4) Getting over a hundred likes on a post does not, in any way, catapult one into the league of achievers and nor does it define you. So, just relax.

5) Candy Crush invites will be the major cause of World War 3. Like, seriously.

6) Posting "Hbd" on someone's wall, while wishing them on their birthday, would result in ignorance of the post just like a Candy Crush request.

7) Sharing your baby photos is the key to get you instant Facebook recognition and maximum likes. What are you waiting for, then? Go, reach out for the album.

8) Following a Humans of add a city's name is a mandate to stay socially relevant.

9) Changing your profile picture to a country's flag in a bid to show solidarity with the country that has been the victim of a terrorist attack will officially earn you the tag "dunce" and lead to serious judgement of your character.

10) You are not obligated to like your own post. It is understood that you approve of it or like it (not literally), since you are the one who has put it up there.

Facebook is one of those things for which you can rightly say "You can like it or hate it, but you simply cannot ignore it." To add to what I said, I have made it a point, this new year, to get myself to ignore all the pending friend requests from unknown people, even if that means not getting to boast to my friends about how I have some 70-odd pending friend requests. I WoULd AlSo LIke TO GivE A SPeCIAl sHOUtoUT tO aLL ThOse WhO WrITe CApTIons like "MaH LyF MaH RuLEs."