chaoticobservationexpert

[chaoticobservationexpert]

"Sweet Mistake" - Mafia Romance (Completed) - by Yves Chanelle (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/Cyyw3f2BPN (18+)MATURE CONTENT- (Book 2 of my mafia series)-Leader of the Italian maffia, god of sexual desire and heart of stone to those who don't know him personally. All these best describe Leandro Enrique. But then he goes on a mission that changes his whole being. Full of sarcasm, beautiful and strong-minded. Rude but sexy. She's got 99 problems but l…

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Is rape India’s future?

They say

“...... stop voting for this party.”

“......she would have anyway grown up to be a terrorist.”

I say

“Stop pushing your agenda in people’s face on a child’s rape.”

8 year old Muslim girl raped in a temple

Minor raped in Unnao 

7 school going minors raped

These are the headlines that we are reading daily. What difference has remained between this India and the India from a couple of decades back? After all, it’s all still about religion and trying to show people who is better than whom when really no one is. 

When I researched on the Asifa rape case, I found that the backstory claimed that the reason behind raping her was to stop her community from settling down in that area, the Bakarwals.

A girl was raped in Unnao. Being strong, she stood for what was right but no one listened to her. She became worthy of justice only after she tried to commit suicide infront of the UP Chief Minister’s residence and her father killed. Ironical it is that instead of the criminals, the father of the victim is being arrested  and tortured and this is found out immediately after the police claim that they did not torture the man. 

Let us not even begin talking about the rest of these cases and now look at the impact that these cases created.

Hundreds of Hindu lawyers and priests and the likes stood together in a protest that the men involved in Asifa’s case, two of whom are policemen, are innocent because “the girl was a muslim.” Forensics say that the girl was drugged  with anti-anxiety medication, repeatedly raped, burned, bludgeoned with a rock and strangled. Eventually, her corpse was thrown into the forest where it was found a week later.

As soon as the members were arrested, members of the  extremist Hindu Ekta Manch, or Hindu Unity Platform, marched through the streets of Jammu carrying a massive Indian flag, chanting “Long Live India!” and demanding that police release the men. And now it has been found that he group has links to the ruling BJP, and two BJP lawmakers have publicly defended the accused men.

Some faceless people, hiding behind the anonymity that the web has to offer claimed that it is good that she was killed because anyway, she would have grown up to be a terrorist. 

Another wave that has hit the social media after these cases is followers of different parties claiming why the Indian population should not vote for the ruling party in the next elections. Political leaders have made the topic of safety for women a way to put the current leaders into limelight, and a negative one at that. 

All of this only to tell you what has happened in the last couple of months in our country.

Now I have a few questions that need answering and a few things I need each and everyone of you reading this, to think about.

The ones who have been raped are girls. And they are Indians. INDIANS. Then why is it that everywhere we can read more about the religion of the victim and the community they belonged to than the actions that the government is taking?

“She belonged to India-occupied Kashmir.”

“She was a Muslim.”

“She was a Bakarwal.”

NO.

She was an eight year old girl who did not know about the religious differences that engulf our nation. She was a girl who was raped. RAPED. And her being a minor just makes it more sickening emotionally and shameful for us as humans.

For the religious groups who claim that the criminals did nothing wrong or that it was the correct thing to do since she was a Muslim, I would like to ask you this: “Would you have felt it was right that you daughter got raped because she is a Hindu who lives in an area that has a majority of Muslim population?”

You say the criminals did the right thing. You talk about Hindutva. But being a Hindu doesn’t comprise of such shameful acts. And not just Hinduism, no religion claims that other religions are beneath it or that it is a crime to be in a religion that is not the said one. Yes, there are differences in the way we pray and to whom we pray but in the end of the day, isn’t it a fact that we are all children of God?

For the political parties who have begun questioning the leadership and pointing fingers at each other, no one of you, and I repeat NO ONE OF YOU has the right to say anything to anyone, to even your own daughters, until the criminals behind these shameful acts aren’t punished.

And to those who believe that Mr. Modi is responsible for this dwindling peace and justice, I’m not against him, but I am not with him either. Bringing in MNC’s to invest in the country’s economy isn’t enough. What will the country do of all the money it is able to earn if the future of the country isn’t safe? 

The Nirbhaya rape case was an eye opener for our nation. The levels to which humanity has fallen down was first seen then. But have we, as a nation, not learnt anything from that one act of brutality? So much so, that the number of rape cases that should have been brought down to  stop have only ever increased. Are rapes really the future of our India? 

Even the hard work that our army does to keep us safe from the enemies is actually a waste of their energies. What will they do by saving us from external threats when the internals threats outnumber them! 

Sadly, with a heavy heart, I have to say this. 

“As a kid, I imagined that by the time I turn into an adult, I would witness my country turn into a place of peace, greenery and a positive development. But unfortunately, all that I have grown to see my country become is a place where ......”

Fill in the blanks yourself. I feel ashamed when I think of what I have seen my country turn into.

[chaoticobservationexpert]

What To Do When Inspiration Is Dead

It’s been months since something has been written here. Months of quiet and peace for the page. Months of silence. But that quiet, peace and silence is for those who are on the outside. For the ones on the inside, it has been months of worries, self doubts and a whole load of inferiority complex. 

There is this phase for everyone. A phase where the inspiration to do anything that you have truly loved doing always is dead. If you love taking pictures, you are unable to pick up the camera anymore. If you love writing, then a single pen feels as heavy as a stack of iron rods would feel. If you love dancing, the beats feel dead to you. It gets troublesome after a point of time. You feel you are not good enough. There is a lot of comparison being done mentally with your peers. 

He is more confident than I am. She is loved more by everyone around me than I am. She is taken care of more. He is respected more. I am doing something wrong. I am not good enough. They don’t think enough of me. Aaaarrrrggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Way too many thoughts!

Now I don’t know how much of this is going to help you but if you’re reading this seriously, these are some of my own tried and tested methods to start believing again and to start acting on your belief again.

01. Location

If you are the quiet and peaceful type, go to a quiet place say, a lakeside or a library or even a park at the time when its least populated or empty. Go alone. Spend some time away from your phone. Just look around. Now, I won’t be philosophical and say observe the nature’s beauty. Not everyone has a thing for that. But when you are looking around. You don’t have a phone or anything to fiddle with, the real reasons why you are troubled and why you don’t feel like doing your favourites will cloud your mind totally. This is n opportunity for introspection. Do the same activity for a couple of days at different locations. As the reasons come to your mind, work them out.

Remember, every problem comes with a solution.

And if you are the loud and people person type, go out to spend time with new people. Or people you haven’t met in long. Because they always ask you how you are doing. Once they do, you begin thinking bout what needs to be told and what needs to be omitted. Usually, the parts that you decide to omit are the ones that re the reason behind your lack of activities.

02. Music

You can be any type of person but there is no type of person who doesn’t like music. Now that is a totally different topic of favourite genres. 

Personally, I have found that listening to music in isolation helps in calming the mind and focusing on the problem at hand. In deciding what needs to be done.

03. Don’t Try

For this particular time period, try not to do what you like to do. This might sound weird but this really helps. At such points of time, your mind is already clouded with doubts and questions and then you try to, let’s say for example, dance. You try and dance and there is this one particular step that you have begun to try daily but you’re unable to execute it with the perfection that you expect of yourself. Before you know it, you feel exhausted, feel as if this is not your thing and you’re not good enough. Next thing you know, it’s been an year and a half when you last danced.

Give yourself and your hobby some time and space from each other. You both deserve a break.

04. Showers

Long showers are helpful. A shower is a place where you get the most amazing and creative ideas. A shower is a place where you can be anything you want, anyone you want.

05. Let the imagintion run wild

This is probably the best time of your life to let your imaginations run wild. Whatever thought, however crazy it is, that comes to your mind. Give it a minute. You might end up doing it for the rest of your life. 

06. Color

Color something. Doesn’t matter if you are n artist or not, if you sketch good or not, if you paint good or not. What matter is that there should be colors in your hand and on the paper kept in front of you. Try to go for the brighter shades.

07. Technology’s Exile

The most important thing. Keep away from technology for sometime. Go traditional (as I like to call it). Keep your phone handy in case it’s an emergency and you need it but keep it just that. A medium of connectivity in case of emergencies. Spend some quality time with family and friends. Go for good old shopping, walk in the park, trying that “tapri ki elaaichi wali chai”. Maybe a long drive with real air from open windows.

Try them out. See if they help you. See if you feel any sort of change. See if your inspiration does get back to you. 

And if it does, “nous l’avons fait.”

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Ever Wondered ?

Ever wondered how different life would have been had we entered this world laughing and not crying ?

Every New Year mother says to do all the things that pleases us and makes us happy and brings us to peace because according to her, the way you spend the first day of the year determines how the entire year would be for you. So, it’s in your hand if you want to spend the entire year happily or sad, working boldly or hiding, helping everyone or disturbing everyone, hard working or lazy. This made me realize - we entered this world, the very first day of our existence, crying and that is exactly why we spend our entire lives crying for things that we are unable to attain, however good or bad they might be. Had we entered this world smiling and laughing, the face of our entire planet would have been different today. Funny, isn’t it !

Ever wondered how would it be had we all learned to forgive others first ?

We all fight with each other without missing a beat. whichever side you choose to look, you will find someone fighting. But what are we really fighting for ? For respect ? Or for happiness ? Or for helping others ? Or for giving someone a better chance at life ? Any fight which isn’t fought for these reasons is a fight which doesn’t need to be fought. If you really want to fight then fight to see who is able to make people happy in this life full of tensions. Fight to see who is able to make people smile. Fight to see who is able to give a better life to the less fortunate. But you know what the funny thing is in this ? The funny thing is that even if we humans fight for noble things, somewhere along the lines we would forget what exactly it is that we are fighting for and this will turn into another one of those life competitions like who gets a better job or who gets the higher denomination in their salary. Again we’ll end up in a situation where nobody cares anymore.

Ever wondered how would it have been if we worked according to what we wanted ?

No one dreams of working  9 to 5 job. It always comes out of a necessity. A necessity which kills the wants and wishes and desires from the inside and slowly kills the man himself. It comes out of the necessity to feel accepted in the society. A society that laughs at you when dream of things differently. When you wish things to be different. You dream to be an interior designer ? Well, good luck to you and your family since such things never really gives you any success in reality. It’s meant for movies and books so let it be there. And what do you do ? You bend down to what this society says and let your dreams go even when deep down you know that’s who you really are. Had everyone had the chance to pursue what they really wanted, the world would have been a better place to live in. With peace and prosperity. With love and hope and care for everyone. 

[chaoticobservationexpert]

YOU

You. Yes, you. Over there. 

I know you. You want to be like the girl sitting three rows ahead of you. You want to be cool and spunky and that everyone knows you and loves you for who you are. You want to be that amazingly all-rounder person who is present in every field. You want to be that one who can sing and dance, who is popular, whom everyone loves, who is amazing at sports and studies alike. One whom everyone goes to when they need help. One to whom every guy has to practice talking before he actually can sum up the courage to talk to. One who is everywhere. One who is the most beautiful. You want to be that perfect one. SO perfect that even you messy looks perfectly messily perfect. You want to be an epitome of perfect, since there is no better term than this for this. Teachers are impressed, neighbours are impressed, friends and peers are impressed. Basically, everyone, everywhere, loves you. Whoever knows you, loves you.

But you know that can’t happen. You know that won’t happen. And now that you have read the truth that it can’t/won’t happen, you think, “Why?”

Because you know that’s not who you are. You are that person who would rather sit back home and read a soul-satisfying book than go and hang out with people and tour the cafes and restaurants of the city. You are one person who would normally pick up  shirt and put on a pair of jeans and sneakers to go to college instead of standing and rummaging for at least half an our every morning to decide what you would wear that day, additional half an hour for the complimenting make up and another additional twenty minutes to decide which footwear. Not to forget, you would rather take up a bag which is comfortable to carry than the one that matches the color of your outfit. 

You are that person who thinks perfect guy exists in books. If you go out among people, you would want to talk but you will be so scared of starting a conversation with someone for the first time that it will come out all wrong and awkward. You will try and show in front of your peers that petty things don’t bother you. That you like messy in a cool way when the reality is that you cannot stand the sight of a book whose paper is ear-marked. You cannot stand it if there are too many things on the table where they aren’t supposed to be. You know you are an amazing singer and dancer but you’ll give up every opportunity to show your talent because you feel awkward and scared of the group of judgemental people around you. You decide to tie up your hair every single day instead of trying new hairstyles because you are not sure what will suit you and what won’t. 

But you need to know this. You need to know that you don’t need to be like the girl sitting three roads ahead of you. You need to know that you don’t need to spend extra two hours every morning to get dressed so that people like you. You need to know that if a person has to like you, it has to be on how you are and not after (s)he changes you according to their preference because then that would be them loving their preference and not you. You need to remember that preferring  book over a crowd isn’t bad. It’s a part of who you are and that part is amazing. You need to now that if there is someone who doesn’t want to be friends with you because they think that you’re weird or awkward or not social enough, it’s okay. Them not being wrong doesn’t mean that you’re wrong. Everything in this world isn’t divided into right or wrong. Many times, there is right and right. Many times there is wrong and wrong. Like two sides of the same coin. You don’t have to feel sorry for yourself for this.

You are much stronger than whom you see in the mirror everyday. Your beauty doesn’t lie only in that face that you see every morning. You beauty actually lies in that heart of yours which tells you to help people in need when you see them. It lies in those eyes which cry every time they see a child on the road begging. You don’t have to change yourself for anyone. You don’t need to be “like” anyone. You just have to be you which is it’s own type of perfect and beautiful.

-Excerpts from “The Book I’ll Never Write”

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Track within track: How Indian daily soaps are stuck in the infinite loop of the same storyline

Ever thought of the why behind the audience craving for some romantic and love scenes between the protagonist? Because more than being an art, this talent of making stories and drawing crowds to watch them for the sake of entertainment, it has now become business. Who gets more TRPs? Which actor earns more per episode? etc. etc. The makers use the simplest of the simple business/economic rule to do just that. They show so much of over-the-head drama and negativity in the lives of the protagonists that the audience is left wanting for more of the sweet and romantic scenes. 

Lack of new ideas. Lack of creativity. Everyone has been so busy thinking out of the box that they forgot to look inside the box. And that is exactly why that in the current scenario of Indian daily soaps, there are certain story lines to which each and every maker sticks to. So much so that the origin of these story lines cannot be found anymore.

So here, I bring to you some of the most cliched, yes, yet most loved dramatic story lines that rules the television today.

1. Jungle mei mangal !

The forest holds some special kind of attraction for our leads. There are usually two scenarios. Either she is running away from villains who are trying to stain her purity or, love is found in the jungles.

Like someone once said, “Inside every man lives a hero who just needs a great reason to come out and show its prowess.” (I think I just made that up !)

2. Hum tum ek kamre mein band ho ...... Aur chaabi kho jaae

Being stuck in a room is yet another example of a classic love story’s initiation. This one here has, as a matter of fact, several possibilities to it. One, they both fight and then end up sleeping with their heads on each others shoulder’s somehow. Two, they have quite some romance which generally fades behind  table or some official red and blue colored files. Three, he can’t stop himself from sacrificing a good night’s sleep by staying awake the entire night and watching her sleep. (I mean like, COM’MON. Who even does that for anyone anymore? Like, isn’t sleeping the most lovable activity to be done, ever? Duh?)

 Well, I guess it’s definitely time to leave the world.

3. Just add a dash of feminism thought to it and lo’, behold - Your Indian daily soap is ready !!

Well, after all, it IS a world of hard headed feminists these days (irrespective of whether they actually understand the concept of feminism or not). And thereby, every maker has to, atleast once, have the heroine save the hero. Something very much opposite to the usually followed rule of the hero saving the heroine.

Since the machoism of the hero is to be maintained, therefore, it’s not necessary for the heroine to do something really big to save the hero. Doesn’t matter ! Nopes !!

4. Apne ghar aaya, main aaya tujhko lene

I know, I know, I know. A very unfateful video of Salman Khan all dressed in black and desperately trying to dance is now playing in your head against your wishes but what can I say. Hero-marries-heroine-for-some-utterly-stupid-nd-false-decision-and-then-comes-to-know=the-truth-and-falls-in-love-with-her-over-her-childish-antics-and-plans-to-marry-her-again-with-her-maayka-and-sasural-being-the-same-place-with-its-own-dose-of-shitload-of-drama thing just happened !

Too much of drama is not good for health.

5. Sakhi saiyaan toh khoob he kamaat hai ... Mehengaai daayan khaaye jaat hai

I am sure these words seem pretty familiar to you. There is a co-relation between these words and our shows. 

Sakhi saiyaan toh khoob he kamaat hai as in people like Shivaay Singh Oberoi, Arnav Singh Raizaada, Aham Modi, Advay Singh Raizaada, Ram Kapoor etc. etc.

Mehengaai daayan khaaye jaat hai refers to this

Basically, Indian show makers know nothing about the concept of middle class. Either you can be extremely rich or hardly making it for yourself or your family.(By the way, they are more bent towards the former one. Just saying !)

6. Duniya mein aae ho toh jeena he padega .... Achcha, mar gae? Koi baat nhi, fir se aa jaao. Jeena toh hai he na!

Only god knows how many characters have died and come back to life within the last few decades.

Car blast ho gayi toh kya hua? Tumhaare bina villain ka kya hoga! 

Matlab gun point pe he marey na? Koi baat nahi. Fir se jee lete hain na.

Gaadi khaai mein gir gayi kya? Awww. How cute ! Chalo ab aa jaao wapas. Time for some drama. Kafi waqt se show slow chal rha hai.

Bro, you didn’t give your granny and grandpa a “waaris” for their multi millionaire-ish business. Gotta come back !

7. Idhar chala, main udhar chala, jaane kahaan main kidhar chala? Arey fisal gaya .... Love triangle mei fans gaya !

Hero was trying to save the heroine. Heroine is gravely in trouble. He cannot save her. Enters the third guy. He saves the heroine and also ends up falling in love with her in the process. She is safe and out of danger and back with the hero but the third guy is there too. And apparently, our star-couple can’t even tell him to fuck off because, “Duh! He saved her life stupid !”

Well, the showmakers of Indian television really do need a lightening of creativity to strike them. Strongly. Right on the head. Atleast ten times. Maybe then they will realise that the audience can see very well that no millionaire drives a Fiat and maybe, just maybe they will start paying attention to the detail.

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

A Writer’s Defeat

A question popped up in the head. I thought and thought. And I thought hard. I pondered over it for long.

“What is a writer’s defeat?”

Having cultivated a habit to read at  very early age, I read everything I could lay my hands on. From political commentaries to science journals, from history and mythology to geography. Anything and everything.

The one thing learnt from so much of reading was that every character in the universe has “almost” a well-defined outline of what its defeat would be. It’s just the interpretation that varies. For a teacher, it might be when his student fails to deliver what the teacher taught. For a painter, it might be when his colors don’t mix well or are not the right shade. For a sculptor, defeat may be defined as his sculpture not taking the desired shape. Likewise, for a king it is when he loses his battle. For  businessman, it is when his commerce doesn’t garner profits. 

But for a writer? For an author? What would define his defeat? Is it his work not being appreciated? Or is it not becoming the bestseller? Or when his work isn’t read? What is a writer’s defeat?

His defeat isn’t in his work not being appreciated, or not being read by others or not becoming the best seller. Nope. Nada.

 A writer’s greatest defeat is when he opens his diary, picks up his pen and tries his best but is still not able to write. That flow of words, which generally comes naturally to him, becomes difficult. That feeling of helplessness that devours on his optimism and his skills. That feeling of mentally comparing himself to everyone around him all the time and feeling he’s not good enough. That feeling of being a misfit among his own. That hesitation to try anything even if he wants to because of the fear of what “they” will think/say. That is a writer’s defeat.

And why do I talk of defeat and not success? Why did I put in this pinch of “defeatism” in that dish of optimism that we constantly cook in our own heads to make ourselves feel better? Because it’s your defeat that either makes you or breaks you. Not love. Not faith. Not hope. Nothing. It is all in the defeat and the hard work that you put in post your defeat. Your success hides in your defeat. Once you have fallen back, you can either break yourself by staying put exactly where you life has dropped you. Or you can make yourself by picking yourself up and improvising again. 

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Rantings of a Female Mind

Hello. Hello. Hello. Attention everyone. Can you all please give me a few minutes of your precious time and read this ?

Thank you. I feel honoured.

I have a question. It’s not just any question. It’s “THE” question. It’s the ultimate question. It is the question which we are asking everyone, everyday and yet, we fail to find the answers.

I am a girl and I ask this question. To everyone.  The men and the women. I ask this question from my brothers, my uncles, my friends, my colleagues, my known and also to all those men whom I have ever crossed or will cross. I pose this question for all the men. Also, even though I am a  philogynist, I pose this question to my grandmother, mother, sisters, friends, colleagues, known and also to all those women I have ever crossed or will cross. I pose this question to all the women. I pose this question not just to people whom I know but to everyone. Every parent, grandparent, teacher, friend. Absolutely everyone.

What about us? What about us girls? What is it about us that as soon as we step into the world we become a burden? What is it about us that we are kept under strict rules when our brothers and friends, right in front of our own eyes are allowed everything? And by everything, I do mean everything. What is so troublesome in us that makes you feel the need to pose so many rules, so many boundations on us? What is it in us that even after we do every possible thing we can, in the most honest and sincere manner that you can still never believe us and your son breaks every possible rule that he can and still he gets the privilege of ... Well, everything?

Let’s talk about practicality since the word “practical” has become a new fad in itself. Right from when we gain the talent to analyse and understand to the very end, there is a list of things that everyone is taught/told at some or the other point. Here are some of them :

1.       Freedom to choose any stream for studies and any profession to take up when you come of age as long as it is respectable.

2.       Freedom to do whatever you want.

3.       Freedom to talk to a guy without it being an issue and without making yourself one with a “bad character”.

4.       Freedom to party.

5.       Freedom to wear pretty dresses, including skirts and sleeveless tops and crop tops.

Mind you, these are just a few of the very many things that you keep on telling us, directly or indirectly, discreetly or indiscreetly, every single day. Yet, what happens?

Thanks to our very much messed up education system, as soon as I reached eleventh grade along with the need to “choose” a particular “stream”, a sound came along naturally. “Beta, take science/commerce. It will open up many more doors for you. This stream is the way to a good life.” And I am yet to see a parent who says, “Beta, take humanities. It will help you achieve what you want to be.” Such a parent is yet a dream for every one of those kids who want to do something not-so-mainstream. Talking to a friend pursuing engineering I realised, half of the engineering and medical colleges in India would have been empty had all those kids enrolled in those colleges actually gone for what they wanted to do and not what their parents wanted them to do. We will forever be in debt to our parents for giving us the life that we have lead so far, full of comforts and all that we wanted but the life that waits further head is to be led by us. You can either lead that life happily doing what you want or you can lead that life depressed, doing what they want which is exactly the opposite of what you once wanted. Dear parents, we cannot express our thankfulness in words but we can also not live the life that you wanted for yourselves.

I was guaranteed as a child the freedom to do whatever I wanted. A freedom which I used to my best till a certain point of time. Chocolates, ice creams, shopping etc etc. But what now? What of that freedom after I turned 18? Am I still allowed to eat all that I want to eat? My favourite cheese pizzas and milk chocolates. And that choco chip flavour that I had tried at Baskin Robins but couldn’t take it because mom was showing me the most devilous version of her beautiful green eyes? I don’t have any issues with my weight or my body shape but my mom has it for sure and henceforth, i follow a diet. And not just any diet but one made up of veggies and everything green that i have absolutely despised for so many years and my mom has even encouraged that spite. Phew! Growing up is a tough task for sure! Very tough!

Once upon a time there was a little girl who was her daddy’s princess. She loved going to her new school and learning new things. One day, she befriended a cute little guy who sat next to her in the class. They became great friends. The little girl told her daddy of her new friend and voila! Daddy was happy for the princess had made a very good friend, all on her own. Their friendship continued strongly for years. There came a point when not just them but everyone around them thought that these two are going to be together forever. But alas! They couldn’t get their happily ever after. Why? Oh! Did you just ask me why? Well, because apparently, daddy turned out to be a liar. When the princess had befriended the cute little guy who used to sit next to her, the whole class had teased them. But not daddy. He had said, “My sweet little girl, so what if you speak to a guy or sit with him? That’s not a bad thing. It doesn’t make you a bad person.” Well, well, well, daddy, guess you were wrong after all because this is exactly what my mother and my teachers tell me now. That talking to a guy gives me bad character. That it makes me a bad girl in the eyes of others and gives others a wrong impression about myself.

I very well remember that time when I used to come home all stuffed up and couldn’t eat lunch. Mom used to ask why and I would say I had a party and then launch into a full description of who ate what and exactly how much. Well, since now I live in the 21st century, here is the thing : I come home stuffed, tell mom I can’t have lunch because I am stuffed from that party I had with friends. Well, here’s the difference, mom won’t smile and ask what I ate. The questions will now come as : where did you go, with whom, how many boys were in the group. And only God can save me (or grandparents, sometimes) if the number of boys in the group exceeds the number of girls. Ladies, once you have turned 18, partying isn’t about enjoying anymore. It’s more about reaching home in time and making sure that you mum doesn’t see the photos from your party !

When I was small, I  didn’t wear shorts and short skirts and crop tops because they felt uncomfortable. Now I wear them because ... Well, because it’s my choice. Here enters the hypocrisy of the female society (mind you, by female society I only mean ladies who are 30+/ no offence here please). So, when I was say, six and wore crop tops, I looked cute. When I was eleven and wore crop tops, I looked smart. Now when I am eighteen and I wear crop tops that shows about 2 inches of my so-painstakingly-prepared-flat-stomach, I become a girl with low morals, “asking for it?” I would like to know what am I asking for exactly when I put on a crop top? And the final stroke to the master piece is that the lady who thinks that I am “asking for it” and that I have low morals because my crop top shows 2 inches of my flat belly is the exactly same lady who wears a saree whose blouse and waist show at least 8 inches of skin, that too a protruding belly. (I mean no disrespect but like, really?) Dear Mrs. Whosoever-you-are, you don’t mind at all if your son leaves the house at six in the evening and doesn’t return back home till ten in the morning and that also the next day. Then why do you mind if I leave at 12 in the noon and return at five in the evening? Why does these five hours trouble you so much? (Even though you are not my mother !)

Talking about morals and ideals now. Feminism, girl power, female empowerment. These are some terms that have entered our everyday language. Every second person claims to be a feminist and every third person stands for female empowerment. Respected sir, do you even know what is the meaning of these terms? We have been taught since childhood that “charity begins at home”. We have also been taught that one needs to always “practice what you preach”.  Well then, why don’t you people, who call yourselves our elders, who supposedly know everything that is good and that isn’t good for us, practice what you preach. You talk about women empowerment yet you stop your daughter-in-law from working and why? Only because you have this not-so-reasonable fear in your mind that she would do better than your son. You talk about feminism and how it is important for everyone to have equal rights yet you openly shame a woman and why? Only because she was better than you and got a promotion which you didn’t.

Every day the newspapers and channels depict a minimum of three rape cases on an average. Someday it’s and eight month old baby, some day it’s a twelve year old girl, some day it’s a newly-wed bride and on other days it’s an eighty year old. Just like people follow fashion trends, the same way now the men have started following a new trend. The rape culture. Nirbhaya being pushed out of the bus initiated a new style of pushing females out of moving vehicles. Another case from Bengal started the trend of raping old women. A man in Bihar raped a 8 month old baby and this news was followed by 7 month to 12 month babies being raped in different parts of the country. What is wrong with our youth? That day isn’t very far away when public service exams will start asking the cities with most number of rape cases and high criminal records in their examinations. And these aren’t just examples. No. These are real incidents. Events that happened in this country.

When I start thinking about all this, there is so much. Just so so much. I could create an entire franchise on this and that would still not be enough. What is even worrisome is that so many times, so so many times when such incidents happen, there are eye witnesses yet no one reports. Why? Because, “dusro ke pachdo mei kaun padey !” Ab nhi padogey toh kb ! If not now, when? Why don’t you people, for once, instead of controlling your daughters, control your sons. And encourage others to do so too. Tell them the difference between right and wrong, love and lust. Teach them how to be respectable. Punish them too for when they go wrong. Even elders of the society need to realise, it’s not always us who are wrong.

Anyway, after so much of ranting, the entire story burns down to just one question which yet, remains unanswered.

“Why objectify just us?”

  -Excerpts from “The Book I’ll Never Write”

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Shivagami’s Brain Waves Deciphered (Thoughts Shivagami thought throughout)

It’s okay, really. So what if my husband has a slightly dysfunctional left arm (well, not THAT dysfunctional after all). My brother-in-law is a just king and his wife is a king hearted person. They work for the welfare of the kingdom and that’s all that matters. When it comes to the matter of the kingdom, nothing else matters.

The king, my brother-in-law has passed away. And so has his wife, leaving behind a son. *The maid brings the son of the deceased king* Such a pretty little kid. But he has no parents. All alone in this world now. *Holds his hand but he grasps her index finger* WTF ! Which new born has such strength that even I, a 30-40 year old cannot free my finger. I need to name him a name that suits his game man ! “Baahubali”

But what now ? *Sits in a yogic posture* *In deep thought* 

Both the boys are way too young to be named as king. My husband ... Oh no ! The constitution doesn’t accept that. Martand and his men are approaching the throne sooner than I thought. I have Kattappa and Kattappa be the best so my and the  kids life is safe. Screw the husband. He’s of no use. I’ll turn Martand’s men to my side and have him killed. I’ll rule in the stead of the future king. *Phew* Well, one thing is fixed now at least.

Well, now that it’s all on my “Vachan” and since my “Vachan” is the “Shasan”, time to take serious decisions. I need to educate the kids myself apart from what the “Guru” teaches them since mother is the first teacher. But I need to remember : no discrimination between the kids. They are both mine. *Expression of determination*

I will teach my children to walk on the path of “dharma” and “truth” and to always follow the constitution. It doesn’t matter where they land up. People shouldn’t get a chance to point out that they haven’t been brought up well. *Taught them/work done*

Kattappa will teach them weapons. Kattappa be the best so my kids be the best. Amrendra loves him, it’s good they have a bond. The child is too kind and helping and too sweet for his own age. And too understanding according to his maturity. A perfect blend of his parents. I wish he becomes the king of this “mahaan saamrajya” some day. *The fuck. Where did that come from. Well, for one, even my heart knows he is deserving. I can’t believe I love him more than my own son. Then again, he deserves that. Always there.*

*Kaalkeya attacks*

Since he spoke in derogatory terms to the “Rajmaata” of this “mahaan samrajya”, whoever brings his head becomes the king. *Yeah man ! Time for some revenge* *Rubs hands in anticipation*

Bhallal Deva killed him. Agreed. He brought me his head. Agreed.

But I want Baahu to become the king. Therefore, a person who kills enemies is a warrior but if he saves the life of even a single innocent, he’s a king. Therefore, Amrendra Baahubali will be the king. *Logic applied*

I have to walk for the festival. The elephant has gone mad. Let Kattappa save the common folk. My son will save me. 

See. My hero. Parmeshwara is taken out on yatra before festivals so that he can bless the people and take away their pains and since my son is no less than Parmeshwara himself, he will do the same. Let Kattappa go with him.

Bhalla doesn’t talk to me much. But I am the first in the “family” to know that he is in love. Cool ! So, now he gets the wife he wants. Do the preparations.   

The girl refused. WTF. How can she say no to the “Rajmaata” of this “mahaan saamrajya”. Ask Baahu to imprison her and bring her here.

*Sees her* *Well, she is beautiful af. So it’s okay. But need to keep her under control*

Go and stand next to your deemed-to-be. *Starts her walk towards Baahu* The fuck that is wrong with her. I mean, okay, he is hot and happening. I agree. Sugar, spice and everything nice, I agree. But this is too much.

   I want her imprisoned. *Baahu took her side* The fuck that’s wrong with him now.

5 incidents later :

Well, now that Baahu is gone, I think I made a mistake. Baahu could never be his parents. Gotta have him killed but with cunningness. Gotta keep my hands clean. 

Kattappa ! Kill Baahubali !

 *Kattappa return with bloodied hands. He’s dead. Shivagami is wrong. The truth of the game opens*

Man ! I have been a real bitch. Killed my own son. Well, technically not my own still very much my own. Gotta save the kid now.

My own son is a tyrant. I killed the one I thought was Parmeshwara. Now gotta save him. Dying in process is acceptable. I did commit a crime after all and “Mahishmati ka dand samvidhaan sabhi ke liye ek samaan hai” as said by myself. *Feels super duper, overly, head achingly, heart breakingly guilty and runs to save the kid*

“PARMESHWRA”

 “......Mahishmati ke liye. Iss balak ko jeena hoga. Amrendra Bahubali ko jeena hoga.”

30 years later, up in the skies ....!

Well, Amrendra, I know i was despicable, but .....

*Mother and son share an emotional moment*

Anyways, my grandson is so perfect. And look, he even uses my words - Ye hai mera vachan aur mera vachan he hai sashan ! 

Such an adorable kid he is. Devasena looks so regal in the royal attire after so long. And Avanthika, doesn’t she remind you of Devasena when you met her. All fiery and full of energy. You Baahubali men. You always go for women with temper. Anyways, I think I can die peacefully now. Oi wait ! I am already dead. Imma forgot that. *winks*

JAI MAHISHMATI  

[chaoticobservationexpert]

A Modern Day Meera - An Ode to the Unrequited Love !

Meera’s story isn’t unknown to anyone.Her love for Krishna. She could never be his but she was always his. Lost herself completely in his love. Sang his songs day and night. Married a prince yet, even her husband couldn’t win her love. The love she had. Her one true love.

She drank poison, all the while believing that her Krishna will save her. Such was her belief. Her family, post marriage, had her whipped but she wasn’t even marked. The family felt the pain and agony that they tried to inflict upon her. Such was the power of her love and devotion towards him.

Today, I sit under this cafe’s balcony shade, tried reading a book but couldn’t, started writing this in a mood along with a warm cup of coffee with rain outside. Some might say it’s a perfect setting to go for a long drive with your love. Some might say it’s a perfect time to spend with your other half.

Cuddling together in a blanket with warm cups of coffee, the door to the balcony open, a soft music playing. (Sounds straight out of a dream, doesn’t it !) Or better - you sitting on the bar stool in the kitchen of your apartment as he cooks you some delicious food. You just sit there and watch him move about in your kitchen. Or wait, the perfect scene. A shade somewhere in an open, beautiful area. It’s all water around you and there you both sit. Enjoying a delicious Italian meal with a glass of red wine, looking into each other’s eyes. Holding hands and all those cheesy things.

I could do that. I could do all of it. I could. I so could. 

But no.

NO.

I am not doing it. I am not doing any of it. I am not dancing in the rain with him as much as I would love to). I am not enjoying an Italian meal with a glass of red wine and hand holding in the shade. I am not sitting on a bar stool in my kitchen, waiting for him to whip up some delicious food. I m not cuddling with him in the blanket with a cup of coffee and the balcony doors open with soft music in the background. I am not enjoying our favorite show with cups of hot chocolate in our hands. I am not looking at him and smiling sheepishly for absolutely no reason at all. I am not holding his hands and looking deep into his eyes, saying “I Love You” like a gazillion times ! 

I could do all of it but no, I am not actually doing it. I am sitting here and writing this instead. I am sitting here, wondering exactly which coding book he might have his nose buried in at the moment. I am sitting here, wondering if he would be asking his mom for his regular cup of tea or if the shower made him change his mind to coffee. I am sitting here, wondering exactly what might be going on in his head. I am sitting here, wondering if he might be thinking of me a bit !

-xoxo 

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Love Conquers All

After spending a full day sleeping and dreaming about things that had happened, that were happening and those that may happen, I decided to wrap up my day with a movie. I watched one and then another. I ended up watching Taal, a Bollywood romantic musical from 1999. 

A very beautiful movie. Even the tag line said, “Don’t fall, rise in love.” The movie, the tag line and everything about it put my head reeling and thinking over. Thinking over about what really is love.

As many people, as many definitions of what love really is. Some say it is the most beautiful feeling in the world. Some say it is about whom you remember even when you are busy and not just who you remember when you are free. Like I said, as many people, as many definitions. 

Once I had my friends ask me what love means to me. My response was nothing. Love is just a waste of time because you fall in love, spend time together, understand each other, the habits, the likes, the dislikes, then fight a little, then love a little and then fight again. Slowly and steadily these fights increase and what happens in the end ? Well, he leaves you is what happens.

 But no. There is more to love than just this. It is the feeling which the entire universe finds beautiful. And some stories do make you believe in them. You meet a person, you start talking, you become friends, you talk and talk a lot. You share with each other what you feel - about yourself, about others, about the world. About everything a person can hold an opinion about. You talk and talk into the late nights. Time passes by like a flowing river. You never realise when you spent five or six hours talking to that one person about nothing in general. 

Everything feels better with that one person around you. The air feels fresher, the food tastes tastier, the music sounds better, the chores become fun and you feel your life smiling at you. You talk, you fight, you talk again, you fight again. And somewhere, somewhere in all of that you fall in love and you never realise that you did.

But your love isn’t limited to talking late night and talking cheesy talks. No. Your love also lies in when you fight with him, when you irritate him, when you trouble him, when you make kiddish demands. And as for him, he is pulled towards you because he loves you. He feels compelled to do everything that brings a smile to your face even if it means to bear your psychopath/drummer version publically. Your demands might be kiddish to the world but not to him. To him, it’s just one another way to see you smile and laugh and clap gleefully. To him, your happiness is paramount.

You know you love him when it is his name which pops up first after everything you do worth sharing. You know you love him when even after you fight, you cannot stay away from him. You know you love him when you smile and blush gently every time he looks at you. You know you love him when he makes you and not breaks you. You know you love him and he loves you when every time you look at him and you find him already looking at you. Looking at you with that shine in his eyes as if you are the only thing in the entire world that he is capable of seeing.

 But with all these beautiful things, love is also a very strange feeling. Some people accept love as they get it. They accept it as it comes to them and make some of the most beautiful love stories that ever came into existence, irrespective of how their story ended. Laila-Majnu, Heer-Ranjha, Romeo-Juliet. Beautiful love stories.

Some stories are far more complex. Sometimes people spend months and years together in each others company being in love and not realising it. Sometimes people just look at each other and they know from their instincts that they are looking at their better halves. And sometimes, just sometimes, people fall in love, just like that. They spend their hours together. The hours spent far apart are again, spent thinking about each other. Their smile and happiness means the world to you. But they are never able to accept it. Never able to accept the fact that they are in love. Why ? Because love, along with being beautiful, is also very dangerous. It comes breezing in your life but brings along a package of things to keep. Pain, anger, heartbreak, jealousy and a mixed bag of such heavy emotions. Sometimes we get so lost in these that we forget what brought us together in the first place. Love.

But love and the feeling of love should be accepted. Open the doors when love knocks because love knocks rarely but anger, jealousy, hatred - they keep on knocking and knocking and knocking at your doors unless and until you don’t open it to them.

 Never thought a movie night would clear so many perceptions that remain unclear in the head amidst the daily rush of thoughts.

-xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

14 Times Shows Brought Your Heart Beating

4 Lions Films production house along with producer Gul Khan has given the Indian television some of the best and most successful shows with an international following. Every girl is guilty of watching one or the other of these shows at some point. What with the hot-shot heroes and the perfect families (or not so perfect at that). This list includes a long list of shows : Dil Boley Oberoi, Ishqbaaz, Qubool Hai, Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Du, Geet Hui Sabse Parayi etc, etc. The list is long and beautiful.

Here are 14 things you will truly relate to if you have ever been the audience of anyone of these :

1. It’s all about money, money, money !! 

Our heroes are fucking rich. Richer than Ambani. A direct competition to Christian Grey. They never go to their offices. We have never seen their workplace. One of the perks of being extremely rich I guess. But anyways, the bottom line is that they are rich whereas our heroines … Well, our heroines are either middle-class-somehow-earning-a-bit-to-exist or totally-in-debt-but-too-proud-to-do-anything moneyless.

2. Tenu suit suit karda !!

Our hero lives, sleeps and breathes in a three piece suit. That is all that adorns the body of our Indian Adonis.

And our heroines, synonymous to what we prefer to call “Chamkili”. All glittery and shiny, ALWAYS.

3. Akele hum akele tum !!

It’s sad but true that our protragonists stand alone in the crowd. They have families but no parents. They have either had no parents or lost them at a young age, very young age.

Being orphans (almost always) is what brings them together.

4. Aasteen ka saanp !!

Our villain is a part of the hero’s family ( another heartfelt “Always”). He will always blackmail the heroine/ hurt the heroine’s family/ try to break a marriage.

And yes, our hero is the ultimate saviour.

5. Ye kya hua … Accidental Husband !!

Somehow our heroes believe in accidental/ forced marriages. now that is a totally different issue that since its our leads, they have got to fall in love.

After all, “shaadi byah ke maamle mein aate mei namak jitna jhooth toh chalta hai .”

6. Hai naak pe jo gussa !!

Our heroes always start as cold and calculating masters of their own universe, taking decisions for everyone.

And our heroine is a chubbly, bubbly, always happy, drama queen.

But in the end, our cold and calculating, master of the universe has got to fall for the drama queen. (Otherwise, makers won’t consider it a love story now, would they !)

7.Thappad se dar nhi lagta saab …. Pyaar se lgta hai !!

Our heroes are scared of love and the heroines consider it their moral duty to teach them all there is about love.

You see, our machoistic heroes aren’t afraid of anything. Anything except love.

8. Anjaana sa puraana qissa koi … Meri kahaani !!

Hero ki backstory is like ghee in fire. Either it ends everything before it starts or it burns down everything that it touches.

Our hero had a girl/ family. They either die or leave him forcing him to not believe in the concept of love anymore. And then enters the person who will make him fall in love.

Happily ever after begins …!

Or not.

9. Aap devil ke peechey, devil aapke peechey … Too much fun !!

*In a very serious, conspiracy wali voice* Hero gets to know that someone is trying to hurt his lady love/ family. He goes after them. He doesn’t know that villain is in the family. He keeps on digging and ends up being kidnapped.

And obviously, it is understandable after watching Indian daily soaps for eons tht the heroine gets to save him, make a place for herself in his heart, get injured and let the hero know of the truth in the process. *Phew ! Tough job.*

10. Agar wo mujhse pyaar karti hai toh paltegi !!

Our leads have a very strong “dil se dil tak” wala heart to heart connection. After all, they are in love. And henceforth, the heroine gets to know hat something is wrong with the hero even if she is in the bedroom and the hero is in an airplane. And vice versa.

Always present to save the day !

11. Kya karein kya na karein ye kaisi mushkil haye !!

Our heroes are sinerely, truly, very deeply, sex deprived. One is refused by her Mrs. to consummate their marriage (basically she refused the sex) because they didn’t have “pheras” to be “completely married”. 

Poor hero, he had to go through the entire big, fat, Indian wedding ka jhamela again only to bed a girl who is already his wife.

The other one never had any romance in her life except bollywood movies which taught her every road trick except again, romance. So basically, she has to take the lead and ruin every try that the hero does to come close.

12. *In his head* Tum mujhe yu he dekhti rahi toh mujhe tumse pyaar ho jaaega !!

Our hero has got to maintain his reputation of being cold and calculative and mean and he has to impress the girl too. So, what does he do ?

Well, he secretly does cheesy stuff to see her smile. Covering her with a blanket when she’s asleep, making sure that she gets all her favourites and other things without allowing her to know its him etc. etc. He even fights the goons for her when he feels extra … Extra happy/ in love.

After all, it’s her smile that matters.

13. Hero ki guide !!

Our every hero has a guide. Someone from the family who helps him understand the difference between good and bad, right and wrong.

And also, she needs to make sure that the hero treats the heroine well. After all, she is the “ghar ki izzat”.

14. Baahon mei chali aa oo !!

Well, it is the moral duty of every Indian naari on the daily soaps to atleast once fall in the arms of their beloved. It can be anywhere. In the office, while making a rangoli, while saving the hero’s family which is yet to be hers.

Anywhere, anytime.

Well, many of these might sound cliched but a girl can never resist a GK/ 4LPH hero ! -xoxo

[chaoticobservationexpert]

This Is Life

"My name is Mreenal. There is nothing special in my story. Just a sequence of mistakes that I made. I used to live with my father and Amma. Father left us when I was 8. He used to get drunk and beat my mother on a regular basis. The odour of his cigarettes used to fill up every nook and corner of the house. As soon as he came back home, me and Amma used to busy ourselves and avoid stepping in front of him. After he left us, I changed. I had never thought that his presence or absence would have any effect on me. But it did. If I was a peaceful person earlier, I became reclusive. I never shared what I thought but shared everything else. Personally, I became like a dormant volcano. I used to be quiet but exploded suddenly into the silence of the night. Publicly, among the boys of my age, I turned into one of the most popular and sought after girls. And that is exactly what messed up my head. I was 15, he was 18. Living in a place where caste mattered, I belonged to the upper most section and he, totally my opposite. Amma had started working after father left us. One Friday, as I was free and home alone, I called him up. We spoke for a few hours and then I made "the" mistake of my life. I thought it was love. I thought it was love but I had forgotten that I am a rich girl with no father or rather, no man in my family and totally vulnerable. Amma was never much interested in my life and I always considered myself mature enough to take my decisions. I called him home that eventful day. We spoke, he started touching me and I didn't resist. We didn't have sex but yes, we went physical all along the way. Whatever else could be done. Every limit was crossed that day. Every except one. I was happy because I felt close to someone after 10 years. But all it took was a week. A week to start feeling guilty about what I had done. I have been raised in a society where these things are prohibited, considered a taboo. So feeling guilty was but natural. This incident changed my life for the years to come. No more would I allow anyone to come close to me or touch me. Nothing more than a handshake. Not even a hug. Not even if it was my own Amma. I never stayed with a guy for more than a month or two. And the ones I spent time with were not allowed to come near me or touch me. I don't think I'll ever be able to come close to anyone anymore. The concept of intimacy is abhorrent to me now. Most of the people, when they get to know my story, they think that I'm being stupid and an orthodox mindset is stopping me from exploring all that life has got to give. What they don't understand is that incidents like these scar us for life. Some scars fade away with time while some can never cease to exist." -xoxo P.S. : The name of the protagonist has been changed due to her request to remain anonymous.

[chaoticobservationexpert]

Glorious Gems of MP - Purana Mahal of Datia

It is a chilly November morning at 9 am, and we are on our way to Datia. The entire drive had very limited visibility and it felt like the fog had developed its own character overnight and started travelling with us like an old companion. Little did I know, this was probably the best preface for the place I was about to visit shortly. Around mid-day, the fog started clearing up to reveal some friendly jaggery hawkers.

I looked around, and find myself surrounded by sugarcane fields! That is when I learnt that the periphery of this district is famous for jaggery factories.

Biting on a few delicious pieces, I moved towards Tourist Motel in Datia where I got a glimpse of the main attraction - the marvellous Bir Singh Palace, also known as Datia Palace and locally referred to as the Purana Mahal. I sat on a bench, looking at the breathtaking view of this overwhelmingly stunning palace!

This palace is famous as a testimony to friendship. As I wondered the story behind the palace, my guide narrated one of the most unique stories I have heard in a long time. Centuries ago, when Bundela Raja Bir Singh and Akbar entered into an alliance at Orchha, it marked the beginning of a friendship with the Mughal ruler’s son Jahangir. Bir Singh built the Jahangir Mahal at Orchha to welcome him on his first visit to the city. But the Raja was not too impressed by the Orchha Mahal and so went on to build this majestic maze of a palace in Datia.

Up close, Bir Singh Palace was more than just a spectacle. So much so that I was awe struck by the entrance gate itself. Each of the tiles, carvings, colours, motifs had a tale about a great friendship. The figures in yellow represent Bir Singh and the one in green depict Jahangir placed in numerous frames made to look like almirahs. The main arch has carvings of them catching deers, a dragon like figure as well as motifs of the sun and the moon.

Sadly, a lot of the enamel work had withered away with time but it still does not need a lot of imagination to guess how breathtaking it must have been when it was built. I spent a good amount of time gazing at the gate and figuring out these stories that were the inspiration for this wall.

Built entirely of brick and stone with no cement or iron to hold it together, this palace is one of the finest examples of the blend of Indo-Islamic architecture. Designed in the form of a Swastik, it is a great balance of classical and symmetrical.  No wonder Sir Edward Lutyens, the renowned British architect was awestruck by this palace. He was so overwhelmed by Datia Mahal that he chose to visit other edifices in India before he embarked on designing New Delhi.

The palace stands on a square base with octagonal towers on each of its corners. Some of the ceilings have beautifully carved islamic patterns that looked like the night sky filled with stars. Some of them have naqqashi work. The chhatris are in the shape of a lotus petal, whereas arches and doorways are clearly inspired my islamic architecture. Every wall spoke to me about the beautiful aesthetics and whispered poems of friendship. Although the rooms with stucco work were shut, I managed to get a peek of a few figures - trees, birds, vases - simply stunning. This wonderful fusion of two worlds made it even more interesting to spend more time around this place.

In the 17th century, the cost of building this palace was about a whopping 35 lakhs but the heartbreaking part is that no one actually ended up living in it.

And the biggest irony - even Jahangir himself was never able to visit it.

About the artist 

Neethi Goldhawk is an independent illustrator and textile print designer who loves drawing all things dreamy, inspired by nature and life. She has illustrated for platforms like Redbull Amaphiko and Launchora. Her pen name (Goldhawk) was concocted in the crowded space of her mind full of absurd characters, who are but little children at heart. She is an avid Tumblr blogger and can be found here

By Neethi Goldhawk

[chaoticobservationexpert]

I’m so tired of people acting like, because I’m an extrovert, shit is easy for me. People literally gape when I tell them I’m extremely shy and prefer isolation.

Really the only way I overcome my anxiety is by not giving a shit what people think of me.

It has nothing to do with me being an extrovert and everything to do with me knowing I’m a badass and you can go fuck yourself.

That said, here is what I often experience.

Like, here’s what you see:

Super confident walk Lots of smiles All the proper inflections Amazing eye contact Great posture Good command of conversation Persuasive speech

Here’s what you don’t see:

Heart pounding Shortness of breath Sweating Tight throat Shaking legs and hands Clammy hands Brain racing forward and analyzing to see what I should say

And don’t try to uwu me into really being an introvert. I’m not. But I saw my anxiety as weakness and when I can’t rid my feelings I still find a way to overcome it.

[chaoticobservationexpert]

book covers redesigned | the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

[chaoticobservationexpert]

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