Choreography credits: Denis Barwa
Song: Ikk Kudi (Shahid Mallya)
Film: Udta Punjab
The power of choice is not given enough significance in our country. People attribute their predicament to almost any factor except the one that matters most – they chose to be where they are. It’s a difficult concept to grasp, but everyone always has a choice. People like to look at themselves as victims in a lot of situations to escape the burden of that fact. Saying “I had no choice” is a defense mechanism we all use to make ourselves survive the night. Coming to terms with the gravity of the fact that no one is to blame for who, where or what we are besides ourselves can be overwhelming.
I have come across different sections of people constantly using the “I had no choice” card in our country – specifically middle aged women who are disappointed with everyone and everything in their lives. They’re miserable and blame people around them for their misery. I don’t know how many times I have heard someone from my family say “I couldn’t leave him. I had no choice”, “I couldn’t continue with my job. I had no choice”, “I couldn’t follow my dream. I had no choice”, “I couldn’t take a stand for the right thing. I had no choice”…and on and on and on. They paint such a sad picture that even Nargis from Mother India would watch their lives in awe. Hearing their tales of sorrow makes me feel sympathetic for a while, even pitiful. But my sympathy and pity only extend so far. Letting things happen without taking control of your own life is nobody’s fault except your own. You chose to be powerless. Period.
The other side of the coin is the never ending blame game and guilt tripping. They blame their husbands, in-laws, children, relatives and even neighbors for the smallest of their problems. Had to quit working? Husband’s fault. Had to be submissive? In-law’s fault. Had to work like a slave in the house? Children’s fault. Your child is more interested in movies than studies? Relative’s influence. There are mosquitoes in the house? The neighbors probably didn’t drain the water from their cooler. They’re simply the helpless victims who are at the epicenter of everything evil. What is unfortunate is that their children perceive them as victims and grow up believing that everyone around has wronged his/her mother in some way. They tend to develop a very skewed idea of what’s “good” and what’s “bad”. The absolute worst is when their mothers use that perception to guilt trip them all the time. Ever heard the following lines?
“I did so much for you. Is this how you repay me?”
“I went through so much pain to raise you. All those sacrifices. For this day?”
“I work like a slave every single day, just to provide you a good life. What do you do for me?”
“You will take care of me when I’m old, right? I have no one other than you”
Etc. Etc. If your child is your investment – you’re doing something wrong. If you’re child is your emotional punching bag – you’re doing something wrong. If you think your child is obligated to do things to make your life better – you’re doing something wrong. If you think your child is not doing enough things to make you happy – you’re doing something wrong.
It was not your child’s decision to be born into your family. It was yours.
Which is not to say that men don’t act the victims or don’t play the helpless card. I have come across my fair share of men constantly cribbing about how destiny has failed them at every account. How they had to do what their parents demanded of them and how they had to marry a girl of their parents’ choice. These sad, miserable men then dump all their unfulfilled wishes on their children and then start the blame game all over again. It’s quite the vicious wheel that can keep on spinning for generations if we don’t stop and see what we’re doing. Are we parenting or are we just finding ways to channel leftover resentment through kids who had nothing to do with it?
What I’ve also seen is how people tend to fall apart when it comes to making a choice. They may appear strong and decisive through words, but when push comes to shove and they actually have to choose between X and Y – their whole graph crumbles. Life is a journey that is full of difficult choices. We can try to dodge such crossroads all we want but they will keep coming back unless we make a decision. We can take a longer route to buy time, or try to find an easier way out; but it never really works. Passion or money? Relationships or career? Kids or no kids? To fight for what you believe in or settle for a comfortable life? To voice your opinion or swallow it to avoid hurting someone close? To be honest and get hurt or lie and be safe? To do what’s right and stand alone or to do what’s easy and stand in the crowd?
It’s not easy making a decision. We may talk all we want about what we would do if we were faced with a situation hypothetically – but honestly we don’t know how we will react until it hits us in the face. You don’t know how you’re going to dance unless the music comes on. But you do have to dance; their is no avoiding that. Unfortunately most people leave the dance floor despite having made tall promises about their ability to be courageous.
In the end, there are two universal truths: 1) You’re always looking for ways to sleep better at night. 2) You always have a choice. Make it.
This only happens in Bollywood films, when the hero takes the heroine and elopes away into the sunset and they live happily ever after. When the hero fights with the entire world for his lady love and protects her like a shield from all the evil in the world. When they sacrifice everything for love and set a legendary example. We have all grown up watching those films. We even have those typical aashiqs slashing their wrists and writing names of girls on their arms with blood. Yes, it all seems very attractive. It ‘sounds’ cool, doesn’t it?
Reality is different though. There are no knight in shining armors. There are no lovers who would actually follow each other to the edge of the world. There are no men who would fight with all the enemies to be with their women, and no women who would break every other relationship just to maintain one. Love in reality is very calculated, safe and convenient. Couples fall apart at the drop of a hat. Relationships don’t sustain beyond the first sign of resistance. “I love you” is a very absolute statement. It doesn’t really leave any room for doubts or second thoughts. It’s isn’t subject to terms and conditions. It’s a commitment that should be fulfilled with life, if need be. You don’t measure pros and cons after that. You don’t think about society, family or money. You don’t think about consequences. All you know is that you would do anything to be with the person you love. Everything else is just a blur.
But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m just not familiar with the term ‘duniyadaari’ that we Indians so dearly love to use for all our fuckups. Maybe it’s because I see the world in the shades of white and black and nothing in-between. Maybe it’s because concepts like ‘khandaan’, ‘money’ and ‘society’ make me laugh when they’re used as excuses to not fulfill commitments. I’m just not in tune with the very many factors that come into play after the three words are uttered. Thankfully, I’m not.
I used to think that I’m the only one. But then something happened that made me believe that maybe there still are some people who would go the distance. Despite everything they had to face, despite all the hurdles, despite all the pain, suffering and torture – they made it through and saved their love at all costs. Their story is classic bollywood. Girl and boy meet. Become friends. Fall in love and decide to be with each other forever. But the girl’s parents resist and make their lives a living hell.
Starting with a temporary house arrest, the girl’s parents do everything they can (and more) in their power to separate the two – they snatch away her mobile, stalk her social media, don’t let her leave the house alone, follow her around like hawks and manipulate her day and night to leave the boy. They forbid her to meet him for 3 months to prove that their love is true. They cut her off from the rest of the world completely. They take away her ID proofs and her financial means. She only has a 100 rupee note in her bag at any given point of time, because as per her parents’ calculations that’s all she needs to pay for the auto.
The boy faces his fare share of shit – her parents tap his phone, have a police officer investigate his background, get in touch with people at his workplace, his friends and even his ex-partners. They threaten him time and again to stay away from their daughter. But when both refuse to budge, they bring the 3-month condition into play as a hogwash – to make them believe that they are ‘in the process’ of accepting their relationship. Because the couple is desperate to convince her parents, they agree (By all means, the “we need time” tactic is only used to buy time to manipulate and blackmail more)
3 months go by. 4 months go by. 5 months go by. They meet him once or twice, and by all means – only as an excuse to humiliate and insult him. They ask for his bank statements, his salary proofs, his hometown address, his educational certificates and grill him at length about his financial decisions. They consistently make him feel inferior but he takes it, only and only because of the girl. After all the interviewing, investigating, blackmail and manipulation – nothing changes. Her parents still don’t approve of him and she still isn’t allowed to meet him. One fine day, after a period of 6 months, something happens and all hell breaks loose. The girl’s father beats her up badly in front of the rest of the family and even relatives. He calls up the boy and spews a handful of hindi abuses at him. He threatens to screw up his entire life. He completely confines the girl in a room and doesn’t let her leave. Her mother and brother side with the father too.
It is then that the couple decide that enough is enough. They decide to elope and marry. They go to extreme lengths to make that happen. They would have to shift to a different city, so the boy quits his job and starts making arrangements for travel and marriage. The girl prepares herself to leave her family behind and build a new life. Once every single detail is taken care of – the tickets are bought, the lawyer is hired, the mandir and pandit are ready – they take the plunge.
The girl runs away from her house and takes her flight to freedom. They take the plunge knowing that the consequences can be dangerous. Her parents can have him beaten up, they can file a case of kidnapping, they can have his house vandalized, they can insult his parents and family, they can ruin his professional future – these are scary possibilities. But they still go ahead and risk them all. They know that togetherness will be worth all this and more. On the day of 2nd June, they marry in an Arya Samaaj mandir. The happiness on their faces is hard to forget. All their faces said at that point of time was – “Finally”. It took me all my courage to not weep in that moment.
It takes an incredible amount of faith and trust to stick to your partner through thick and thin. An episode like this could have torn them apart; it would have torn anyone apart. Leaving your life behind for a new life is never easy, especially more when there are so many risks involved and when you have less than a month to plan it all. All your future plans and dreams go for a toss. You spend years building a life in a place and then suddenly have to throw it in the fire and you do it happily, when you could easily have broken your commitment and stuck with your comfortable life. It would have been easier for both to simply bid adieu to each other and continue living their respective lives. The girl in question was a good friend of mine and I know how many plans she had in regard to her career in this city. But she didn’t think twice about that.
Why? Because plans can be remade and jobs can be changed, money can be earned again and houses can be rebuilt – but strong relationships cannot be rebuilt or found again. You have one moment to either hold on or let go, and that moment decides it all.
They are now happily married and figuring out their lives. No jobs, limited money and less time. Financial burdens, emotional pain and the trauma of leaving parents behind – everything must seem so small now. Togetherness conquers all. Love conquers all.
Some people are lucky to have found such partners. Others have to be happy with simply witnessing and writing about such miracles.
In another time, in another world.
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“But I need time”
“Time for what?”
“To sort things out”
“But what if I need you now?”
Her eyes jerked open with sweat tingling on her forehead and upper lip. Her dreams usually held answers for everything, except this. A question, a pause and then the end. The question lingered in the air even after the moment had passed. She could see her own pained face slowly fading away from her memory.
In another time, in another world..
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“But I need to go”
“This can wait you know”
“I’m sorry, it can’t..”
“But why not?”
Like always, her eyes opened with a snap to the darkness of her room. She allowed it to engulf her completely, as the anguish from the dream slowly left her mind. It felt too real to her. She just didn’t know where to find all these answers. The questions haunted her dreams every day. The lack of answers was agonizing.
In another time, in another world..
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“But I can’t go against my family”
“But I can”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do it..”
“But why did you promise?”
A sudden rush of the wind, her book fell off her lap and her eyes opened. She had dozed off in her chair, reading a book she had read a thousand times before. She put her head in her hands and let the same feeling drain out of her system. She got up and walked over to the window that beat against it’s frame due to the wind. Shutting it firmly, she stared at the tree swaying violently outside. It mirrored her inner turmoil – thrashing and whipping uncontrollably in whichever direction the wind blew.
In another time, in another world..
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“But I can’t talk right now”
“I really need to”
“I have to go, I’ll call back later..”
“But can’t you see I need you?”
Her eyes opened as the plane landed. Landings always scared her, for some unknown reason. All around her people seemed unaffected. The dream left an aching aftertaste, as always. She wondered when these dreams would stop bothering her. She was beginning to get exhausted and worn down. They were starting to leave a permanent dull ache, like an old bruise.
In another time, in another world..
“I love you”. This time, she said it first.
“I love you too”
She paused for a bit, “No, that can’t be true”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if it were true, I wouldn’t have so many unanswered questions”
“But I do love you”
She looked at him sadly, “No, you only love yourself”
For the first time, her eyes slowly opened at the crack of dawn and the feeling of agony didn’t haunt her. The need for answers didn’t pain her heart anymore. She didn’t feel aimless anger and rage flowing through her veins. She didn’t feel like a prisoner stuck in her own thoughts. Suddenly a weight lifted off her chest, as though she had surprised herself by finding the end of the tunnel. She realized something. It was never true. He didn’t love her.
Because if it were true, there wouldn’t be any questions, buts, ifs and pauses. Because if it were true, the answers would be simple. Because if it were true, her dreams would end at “I love you too” – because that was enough.
So after a lot of deliberation and sleepless nights, I have finally decided – Singapore is going to be the country where I will go for my BA (Hons) in Dance. LASALLE was one of my dream universities a few years ago. I remember citing it as the place I would like to study further in after finishing a pre-professional course in a school in Denmark, but I never got the visa for Denmark and a lot of my plans went haywire. Anyhow, I applied this year again and luckily, with a good portfolio and an interview given on a sleepless night + 5 cups of coffee – I got in.
I loved Singapore when I visited it last time. It’s a melting pot of so many different cultures and people from a range of backgrounds. Everyone gets absorbed into it’s fast-growing economy and rapidly progressing culture. I had no trouble fitting in (except for the one time that I took the wrong metro route and got insanely lost – I had to walk mad distance) and people were welcoming and happy. It’s a beautiful place, with places like Clarke Quay, Marina Bay, Botanical Gardens, Singapore Zoo and my absolute favorite – Universal Studios! *heart eyes* I swear I can never get enough of that place. Who knew a day wasn’t going to be enough to explore the humongous place. I could live with those minions forever. Thankfully enough, Singapore has an entire neighborhood for Indians called “Little India”, that has shops that play tamil/telugu/malyalam music on the regular and has plenty of reasonably priced Indian restaurants. So if I ever feel homesick, I can always go there and lovingly look at desis bargaining for $1. Sigh.
More than it’s touristy attractions though, I’m really excited about this new chapter in my life. It’s going to be a tough 3 years (starting this july)- dance training is never a breeze through. I’m basically married to dance for the next 3 years. I will live and breathe for it. It really makes me reminisce about all the years that I relentlessly put into my training. But I’m still nowhere close to where I want to be, so I have to keep pushing ahead with an even stronger conviction. Its not just a journey toward becoming a professional dancer or choreographer, it’s journey of self-discovery. There are plenty dancers in the world – much more talented than me. Then what exactly makes me stand out?
What makes me stand out is me. There may be a lot of dancers in the world but there is only one me and that’s what needs to come out through my art as well. I have to be true to who I really am and put that into my movement. That movement will be mine, and mine only. If it deserves applause, it might get that too. But regardless of that, I’ll still have contributed to my field in a different way and that’s what matters. I feel very strongly about dancers who are constantly striving hard to “fit in”. Art is a very subjective field, if we wanted to be forced into templates we would have chosen MBA. So why conform to what everyone thinks a dancer should be like? I tried to fit in for a very long time too. But thankfully, I realized that will never work out for me. I will end up a failure no matter how many times I try. I’m weird and will always be. So now I have decided to be a weird dancer #SuccessAdvice
I have a lot of ideas that I want to work on in the long run, and hopefully these 3 years will take me a step closer to that. Vibgyor is my dream child and I want it to go places – there is so much I want to do under the banner. It’s scary and overwhelming at the same time. I try not to think about the flip side too much, that it’ll all come crashing down and I won’t even be able to achieve 1% of what I want to. This is a choice I have made for myself and I won’t have anyone to put the blame on. I will own both the success and the failure.
I don’t care much about monetary success or fame. I never have. I, for one, am very clear about my priorities in life and one would have to dig right down to the core of the earth to find out if it’s even on my list. People who run after monetary success are the unhappiest people in the world, because their net achievement is zero. Trust me folks, there will always be someone who has better bank balance, a better house or better curtains. That shit never ends. But I do care about one thing – putting my ideas out in the world. I chose to channel them through dance, and all I want is to be able to do that well in my life. That’s success for me. A wise man once said “Promote your idea, not your name. It will follow” (Just kidding, it’s my original line)
I’m excited and terrified at the same time. I don’t know if I’m going to do well or absolutely suck. But I do know one thing – I’m not giving up anytime soon.
2 months, 28 days, 7 hours and 20 minutes since he walked away, and I’m still counting.
I get into my car and start the engine, something that I do everyday. My body has coped with the fast pace of my life, and it has become more of a machine, that responds to orders quicker than emotions. Start the engine. Get the car into gear. Go back home. Eat. Sleep. Back to the hospital. Simple routine.
I don’t want to feel the rush of emotions in my heart, because it gives way to vulnerability,always. Vulnerability is one of my top 10 fears of all time. It gives others the power to control some or the other aspect of your life. A mechanical life maybe difficult to get used to, but in the long run, it’s better than feeling pain.
Then why am I still counting ? I don’t know, probably because it’s just another custom I follow in my daily routine. Probably because maths is my passion. Probably because I’ve lost my mental balance. My brain keeps giving me all sorts of reasons, but my heart always gives me one reason – I haven’t let go. I refuse to believe it.
2 months 28 days, 7 hours and 25 minutes.
It’s raining outside. It fails to stirr any emotions within me, haven’t I mentioned that I’m a robot ? Well, I am, and accepting this fact doesn’t stirr any emotion either.
I don’t blame him, he had to go, but back then when I was human, I did feel angry at him, at my fate. I did feel shattered, I did feel deperate to cling onto him as long as possible, but over the time, all those feelings have evaporated, and have left behind a fully functional robot.
“God Neeta, you look like hell. You need a break dude” said one of her colleagues and friend, Rohan Khanna.
She smiled, “No Rohan, I’m fine. Besides, Hospital hours don’t allo-“
“Let go Neeta..” he cut her off, staring at her intently.
She stared at him for a long moment and then lowered her gaze, “I’ve moved on, Rohan..I have”
Rohan slightly shook his head, “Don’t expect me to believe that. For how long will you be in denial ? Face it Neeta, running away from this fact is not courage”
He paused for a long moment, and then said, “Please Neeta, free yourself from this misery”. He patted her arm, warmly nodded at her and walked away.
My best friend Rohan thinks I’m in denial. I don’t understand why. I’m absolutely ok, and it’s high time he accepted that. I don’t need a break, hospital is the only place that helps me retain my sanity.
2 months, 28 days, 7 hours and 51 minutes.
I’ve reached my house, it’s still raining. Darn, I forgot my umbrella at the hospital. I jump out of my car and quickly lock it. Not long after I start walking towards my house, I see him.
He’s completely drenched, from head to toe, but he’s standing at my doorstep, waiting for me to come back. I’m standing in my place, transfixed. All the nuerons in my brain seem to stop functioning at once. All the rational commands stop overpowering my heart, I’m standing here like a statue, unable to move an inch.
He turns to look at me, and even though it’s raining, I could make out that he’s been crying. Involuntarily, my feet start taking me towards him. I don’t know whether I want to slap him or hug him, whether I’m esctatic or angry. I had said I don’t want to feel the rush of emotions, but right now, a huge tide of emotions is sweeping through every part of my body, overwhelming me to an extent that the heavy downpour seems non-existent.
We’re standing close now. He’s saying something, I’m not listening. All I can see is his face, and slowly, the walls that I had built around me start crumbling. I don’t want them to, but it’s as if a strong force is destroying them and my brain is too numb to do anything. The last wall cracks, and tears form in my eyes.
I manage to hear his last line, “Neeta..I-I’m sorry..I’m-“
I cut him off, trying hard to fight my tears, I say, “Shekhar, Can we talk..please ?”
He looks at me and nods. All the pent up emotions can wait. Although all I want to do at that moment is bury myself in his arms and allow myself to succumb to my feelings, but all that can wait. There are questions, and there are answers, there are misunderstandings, and there are solutions, and they need to be cleared before we can make space for emotions between us. Before I give in again, I need to talk with the man standing before me, and I know he understands.
We’re finally aware of the rain, and walk towards my house. I finally allow myself to be happy to see him.
Deep down, I’m hoping that I’ll get my happy ending, and that he’s back forever, because I’ve finally stopped counting, and the robot in me just stopped functioning.
Why? Seriously, why? Why do all of them believe they own the ground they walk upon and every person who even breathes in their presence is obligated to pay them money? I am yet to come across a lawyer who actually treats his/her clients as people and not ATM machines. When you walk into District court, Saket, the courtyard is brimming with lawyers literally jumping at you like taxi wallas at the purani dilli railway station.
“Madam, affidavit banwana hai?”
“Madam, koi case handle karwana hai?”
“Koi deed banwani hai?”
“Koi agreement karwana hai? Settlement karana hai?”
It seriously feels like you just stepped out at some local station in UP and the most uncouth and boorish taxi/rickshaw/auto wallas are ready to attack you. It’s saddening to see the way these “educated” lawyers put their integrity and self-esteem on a hanger and make a mockery of it in full public view. They’re ready to surrender themselves to you more and more with each 500 note that you pull out in their favor. Rs. 500 = Bas ek stamp milega. Rs 1000 = Court mein appearance kar denge. Rs. 2000 = Appearance + Petition. Rs. 3000 = 2 appearances + petition. Rs 1,00,000 = Private lap dance. Rs 2,00,000 = Private lap dance by their entire family.
A profession that finds it’s roots in words like integrity, justice, right vs wrong, morals and ethics, courage and fighting spirit, has become worse than the business of prostitution. All lawyers are puppets in the hands of money. All they want and care about is money. The more you pay, the better and faster justice you’ll get. It’s like the difference between business class and economy. So in case you’re an economy client who just got molested on the road, you will have to wait for years before you get your so-called “justice” (which is probably only going to be a settlement forced down your throat by the judge who only wants to decrease the load of the cases) and if you’re a business class client then justice will be handed to you pretty soon. And if you’re a first class client then not only will you get justice on a silver platter but also an autographed champagne bottle by the lawyer.
Paisa phek tamasha dekh was probably made for lawyers. They walk into your office as though they are doing you a massive favor by gracing your office with their golden presence. They sit in front of you and start giving advice even though they have no effing clue about what your case is or even glancing at the file. Pfft. Why would they do that? They’re too smart and “experienced” to do something as trivial as getting to know about the actual case. A few IPC sections here, a few citations of latest amendments there – their job is done. They just summarized your entire case without asking you a single question or reading the file. Now isn’t that genius? Next thing you know you have been sent a long invoice of their “services”. You must pay them for throwing around a couple of IPC sections, which you probably could have read yourself with half an hours worth of research.
Now isn’t that an honorable profession? I so will become a lawyer one day.
I actually remember a hilarious experience where I went to a lawyer’s chamber once to get a couple of notices drafted. He drafted the notice in front of me and my god, what a brilliant example of legal practice that notice was. What english! what attention to detail! And that man has a LLB degree and runs a firm. Ultimately, I had to draft the notices and all he did was stamp and sign them. And guess what? He still charged me. They have some nerve to be such unabashed bastards. Basically if they invest even one second in your case, you owe them money. Even if they don’t do jackshit, even if they’re the ones who screw up, even if they gave you wrong advice – you still owe them money. Why? Because they gave you time. And their time is more important than the Prime Minister’s time himself because you know, they have so many bad people to prosecute, justice to serve to the grieved and so many other noble things (=mint more money by raking in as many settlements as possible)
Lawyers are smartasses. They know the Indian judicial system is slower than MTNL broadband on it’s worst day. So the best way to make loads and loads of money is to make sure that each case stretches out as much as possible. That way they can spin money on each date. Our system is notorious for hanging every case for a minimum of 2 years. Sometimes justice is served to the grand grand children of the complainant/plaintiff. I honestly do not remember the last time justice was truly, truly served in our country. So like I was saying, lawyers take full advantage of this gaping blackhole in our system. They dish out all sorts of crap to convince you why it would be best to let the case hang. And mind you, they’re pretty damn convincing. Lawyers are multi talented people. They do business like sex workers and possess mad marketing skills like a top class salesman and pretend to be compassionate like SRK in Swades.
Which brings me to the next point = their ego. So even though our system is churning out lawyers faster than mosquitoes breeding in the summer and even though most of them are useless and don’t have brains to fill a teaspoon, their egos are bigger than the Tatas and Ambanis. They think that a black coat gives puts them at a pedestal higher than the normal civilian. If you hire a lawyer, you better listen to his advice and you better make time for him when he has time, and you dare not ask him too many questions and you dare not contradict him or tell him that he’s not working hard. How dare you tell a lawyer what to do? Who the hell are you? Just another ATM? He will probably go find another one. There are plenty he hasn’t exploited yet. If you do any of the above, he will walk out and leave all your cases hanging midway without any further advice and that’s not it, he will even raise you a bill and demand money for “services rendered”!
Oh I forgot to add one point in there: If you ask them to invest more time than what has been agreed upon in the agreement, then it’s going to be chargeable. Even if it’s just a minute above. They will make sure they mention that extra minute in their bill. Incase you refuse to pay, then “you are an exploitative client who doesn’t pay lawyers for their insane amount of hard work, blood and sweat that they put into your cases. You monster!”
Lastly, lawyers are always on sale. So even if you have a lawyer who is involved in one of your cases, and the other side happens to offer more money he/she will happily waltz into their arms and perform a screw-you duet in front of your face.
The reason I’m ranting so much is because I’ve had it with lawyers and their SOB-ish behavior. I’m done with them hanging out their tongues at the sound of money and salivating like dogs. I’m done with them having no integrity or respect either for themselves or their clients. I’m done with lawyers not wanting to put in any work in a case and just breeze through it like it means nothing. Heck, I’ve become half a lawyer thanks to my varied experiences over the years. I’ve not met one lawyer that I can actually look upto and respect. They’re all greedy, selfish, money-minded businessmen who don’t give a rats ass about the client’s problem. I’m sick of being ripped off and still being treated like horseshit.
Lawyers, I suggest you to the market and buy clothes from a store called “Balls&Respect”.
Who says prostitution is illegal in India?
When I first heard this song, I didn’t like it much. Then I heard it again, and it seemed better. Before I knew, I was deeply in love and couldn’t let this song go. I’ve been obsessing over it for 6 months. I had planned to choreograph this at one point, but hoped it wasn’t one of my fleeting obsessions. The choreography didn’t actually start with this song; it started with a different song and ended up with this one because my instinct kept telling me to use it. Anyway, enough rambling…I think the video is decent. Critique and feedback is always welcome.
I was greeted by the familiar heat wave as I landed in Delhi. It was snowing in Amsterdam when I left. 11 hours later, I was waiting to get back home and turn the fan on full blast. Such is my life. I have become so used to travelling in the past 8 months or so – that being in one place for more than a while starts getting to me. From Isreal to Bangalore to Italy to Amsterdam to Delhi to Brussels to Berlin to Amsterdam (again) and now back to Delhi. I will be leaving soon again in a couple of months. One would say that living a life of a nomad (in a manner of speaking) can be exhausting physically and emotionally. It surely is, but it’s also the only way I feel like I can move ahead in life. Heal. Feel. Be happy.
This trip was such a roller coaster ride. I landed in Brussels one day before my audition, 10 days after my surgery and one day after my DJ stent was removed (not fun, seriously), totally unprepared for the intensive and tiring process of an audition. Needless to say, I was really really bad. They didn’t select me and obviously, I was very very dejected. I left Brussels with a broken heart and damaged self-esteem, but a stronger sense of conviction to crack the next one. I landed in Berlin and hustled as hard as I could. I attended classes and worked on myself before and after. I couldn’t afford to lose another opportunity for two reasons – 1) I loved the school (Tanzfabrik, for dance lovers) and 2) I didn’t think my ego would be able to take another blow. In the meanwhile, I fell in love with Berlin. The city has class. It has a persistent neo-noir feel to it, combined with it’s traditional architecture and active art scene. I loved walking in the city. Every road, every wall, every U-Bahn station had something different to offer visually. I could imagine myself living there.
(Special mention – Berlin Hauptbahnhof is effing awesome)
I walked into my audition feeling and looking confident. I knew I had this. I gave it my best shot, and walked out feeling a little bit content with what I had done. I got selected and patted myself on the back for having recovered from an initial loss. But I had no time to celebrate as my tiring journey was not about to end anytime soon. I started packing for Amsterdam immediately after.
By the way, I always make this mistake of not carrying anything to eat during train/bus rides in Europe, which basically means 6+ hours of no food and water unless you decide to get up and cross all the compartments to find the pantry car. But I think I’ve made stupider mistakes in Europe so I’ll let that one pass. Either way, the moment I stepped foot in Amsterdam all my exhaustion basically vanished because I.am.in.love.with.the.city! Everyone talks about having a soulmate. Well, I have a soulcity: Amsterdam. There is something about this place that just makes me happy. I don’t really know what it is. Maybe it is the sight of the river, or the perennially happy people, or the infinite bicycles, or the beautifully lit cafes and restaurants, or the amazing (!!) architecture, or the canal rides, or the way it looks like at night, or just the liveliness of the place, or the way it makes me feel. Maybe it’s all of them. I don’t really know; all I know is that I could live here for an eternity and beyond.
Unfortunately though, just like everywhere else, I didn’t really get a chance to do any touristy things. I dove head on into classes and choreography. My days were all about dancing, cleaning the house, finding food and drinking too much white wine. True story, I had way too much white wine in Amsterdam. Not my fault its cheap and great. One fine day though, I managed to lock myself out of my apartment at night and had to call an emergency locksmith to open it for me. Had to spend a fortune on it and the guilt still eats at me. I hate the lock system in Europe. Other than this small (but financially big) hiccup, Amsterdam was as awesome as ever. Tiring, but still awesome.
I did manage to do one of the things I had fallen in love with last time – take a ferry ride. I shed tears throughout (Nostalgia does that)
In the meanwhile, I also got selected at Lasalle College of Arts, Singapore – something I had wanted for a while. But couldn’t make it at Amsterdam school of arts – which depressed me so much that I spent a whole day sulking and yes, drinking wine. I really, really wanted it. I would have chosen it without a second thought. But the competition in the dance world is cutthroat and maybe I wasn’t good enough. Nevertheless, the university is amazing and I hope I get a chance to study there at some point. It’s about prestige now.
Life is Europe is always a blur for me. Days fuse into nights fuse into days. It all feels like a matter of a couple of seconds. There is not enough time to stop and think. The garbage needs to be put out, the clothes need to be washed, breakfast needs to be cooked, dishes need to be done, house needs to be cleaned, money needs to be spent judiciously, transport needs to be figured out, adequate groceries need to be bought – other than working on your main objective, of course. I get tired and I love that. In Delhi, I can afford to take so much for granted but not in a foreign land – that keeps me on my toes constantly and I love being in that state. It’s always an experience I learn alot from. I never come back empty handed.
I am still in the hustle mode from Europe and I want to continue to be in it for as long as I’m here. If I stop and pause, I’ll crumble, and I can’t afford that.