Beautiful people : My Daddy Strongest!

http://www.youtube.com/watch#!v=8F0DkM76iq0&feature=related

We all have loved the advert. There was something more to it - something that every child has for her/ his father, for example - my dad and I smile infectiously. We look-up to our dad/ daddy/ baba/appa/ papa/ poppsy very subconsciously. Today I talk about him, the cool Mr. Bennett, in the background, who gets very little space in the fore front because he's ensuring a smooth running backstage.

Last night I made dad cancel his weekend work trip to meet a very pushy boy from 'boy watching'. I liked the boy (for a change). Dad heard me out with patience, looked at the guy's credentials and flatly refused. I, being as bull headed as my dad, insisted that he met the man in question and then make his judgment. Things did not go as planned and the boy in question decided that I was 'too much for his family and him to handle'. The whole dynamics of financial disparity and conservatism got to our throats.

So it was time to tell dad that the meeting would never happen. I expected him to be furious, irate at my hasty and over confidant decision. He quietly rescheduled his trip and left the house. Returned twenty minutes later with my favorite breakfast and a movie. We sat and all he asked was, "Tell me, what went wrong?" I did, for whole two hours. He did not flinch, did not take his calls - just sat and heard me out. Then he spoke, patting my hand. 

"I can not possibly tell you what happens to a man when, he knows he's borne a daughter. More so difficult when the man is me and the daughter, you. When he sees his daughter grow with a mind of her own, with mood swings, with boys as friends, with activism that will make him the answering machine to all the relatives and a shield for his daughter. For a father, his daughter is everything that he strives for. With a son, maybe I would have been more relaxed. However, the love of a daughter is unmatched. Every father struggles through it all to make it to the top, only because he wants to give his children a better life.

With us; you were different, even as a toddler. You once got nine puppies and hid them under the bed from your mom. Silly girl, did not realize that they would not possibly stay there. When we questioned you, you said, " they did not have a house, we have a big one, so I got them here." You also brought random people home for lunches, fought for what you thought was correct - even at the age of 11; when you threw the duster back at your class teacher and we were called to school. You were a little angry idiot who understood that people could have two nationalities and there were people living between borders with no nationalities. You did not know the terms  - 'migrants, no mans land, dual citizenship'. Your fool of a teacher hit you for her incompetence and your arrogance. I knew your school was killing your IQ, so I got you books. You devoured them.

You were going to be my 'teen' nightmare. I knew that the boys would hound you, so I had my defenses ready. But you turned out to be a very responsible - and a very aggressive one. Your college activities, Poetry awards, morchas, NGO's, the Eunuchs, and other-kind of friends worried me sick. I knew you were right, but such proud exhibition of individualistic thoughts was going to get eyebrows raised. I've blamed myself for getting you into the habit of reading and latter, writing. I did not expect you to read all the books I got you, and did not expect you to continue from the 'travelogue' writing days. Your mother often complains that my encouragement of your education has led you to become a free spirit that no one can marry. What she does not realize, is that it my proud moment. It is what every father wants, that their kids become more than an extension of their personality.

I am not afraid for your future, not even that you will choose a wrong man. I won't let you. You have held every pious aspect of this family, you are an annapurna in your mother's shadow, you have raised your niece, and seen more struggle than any 28-year-old I know. You have risen, time and again, with lesser flaws and a stronger will. As a father, I have done my best to get you everything your finger pointed to. I may have been indulgent, but it is because I never wanted you to grow up with a lack of anything. You were not much of a materialistic child, I remember gifting you your first Rushdie and you said you'd treasure it for your child. You were 19 then. That was a time when your sister was buying a new outfit everyday, your cousins were comparing bags. You were happy with Midnights Children.

I never forgot you were a girl, and that you'd catch up with them. You have your share of gold, diamonds, shoes, bags and clothes. However, you are more than them, and that is what I am thankful to god for. You my princess, are not cut out to be an ordinary wife, a nagging mother and an old woman haggling over grocery prices. I see you writing, lecturing and being more inspiring than your younger counterparts. I want a partner who would, like me, know your value and give all it takes to keep you happy. I will keep refusing, till I find that man for you. It is my duty as a father.

I want a better man for you, a man who'd be just as proud to be a part of your life, as I am. I refuse to share your love with someone less worthy."

so be it...

Transparency is a very expensive commodity today. K's very happy to have a bunch full of people who share it with her :)
Capricorn Rook, Best Man, Sunshine, Torch, Drama King, Androgene, Oyster Seeker, Monarch, Childmom, Wise Capitalist, the Monk.... I love you guys. Love you for accepting and loving the chaos that i am, Because it takes courage, so I have discovered. 

from... Kinky Boots

I lurve this film. It is amongst the most inspiring, well scripted, most inyourfuckingface beautiful films I know. I watch it time and again, especially for Lola.

"Red is the color of sex. And sex should not be comfortable." I've died telling that to the beaus and friends in my life.

Loves

I love him :
in a way that love should not be discussed.
in a way that love should not be allowed to be.

Some loves are like body art,
you just have to live with the fact that you have them;
partially a fantasy, partially a scar.

Sometimes the hapless romantic in K reins over her soul, leaving her mind petrified.

It is time. I must go.

It is true that excessivism leads to wisdom. I have failed too many times to fail again. Frankly, I've outdone myself this time. Love, as you know, is my sacred department of failure. When a relationship is 'called off', 'broken' or 'dies its own death'; it is a failure - of the time, emotion and energy spent on the relationship.

I have been assuaged by many, 'it was the correct decision to make'. Nonetheless, I feel a lack, a lack that comes from being a woman. For a long time, approximately 600 days, the woman in my head provided excuses for the loop-holes in my man. However, it is common knowledge that my sex is cursed with a mind that would make most people laugh. With a hope that would make most people cry. And with a need that would make most people call us pathetic. They do call us pathetic.

Now, this is no weep-wagon. The effect, of the death of my seriously flawed relationship on me, has amazed me. (I like discovering this new me.) It is painless and turmoil free. The moving-over is smooth, and laden with content knowledge. There are many pointers that I've learnt from the Oyster Seeker. He never let the mask fall. His words were pure honey. His silence, an absolute treat. The illusion, a beauty!

A woman once told me, 'the only way to be happy in this world is to observe men.' This time, I took time out and observed them, in retrospect. I wanted to slap myself crimson, and kiss myself purple. 

Guess, it is indeed never too late to stab that woman in my head.

Hmmm... frivilous and interesting

Oyster Seeker sent me a questionnaire to upload on his blog. it was a good peek into my own mind for a change.

I Love –Abundance

I Hate – Sadness, Poverty

I Crave for – Beauty

Love is – Everything

Beauty is– Pleasant, elegant, gracious

Men – are means to an end

Women- are stupid

Perfect Holiday - Beach, Pool, Casino

Walking in the rain – Divinity

Virginity - Half -n- inch of skin

Simplicity - is like Solitaires

Fidelity - is Overrated

Beer – is for Chilling

Make up is - Essential, Minimal

Live-in relationships are– like a Foreword to a story

Romance is - Bliss, it's the Zing that tingles and lingers.

Marriage – should be a profitable barter

Sex - is the purest pleasure principle

Touch - reveals the truth

Success/Riches - Success will bring riches

What is the sexiest single article of clothing a woman can wear - Lingerie, may be a Saree

If it is not in here, it can not be found out there.

Love is a funny emotion. It will ensure you hang-on to the last thread of nothingness, till nothingness swallows you. It will disappear in fragments, just as it made it's presence in a fraction. We carry love with us, yet we rush into many doors to find it there and search for a spark, a hint, a sign from the Fates.

K is no different, she too at times falls for the 'if and then', falls for the 'guessing game'. Sometimes, she too is a desperate single woman, looking for a love that is in-sync with her love. Thanks to the many a frog princes in her life; she has outrun the tale, and finally rests with the love within; only to find that it is more satisfying than the fretting peace in the arms of a man of no consequence.

Thank you Mushy, Black Pearl, Pudgy Fingers, the Monk with beads and Oyster Seeker; you all have help me find my love in unmentionable and unacknowledged ways.

Ps.  They are the most important people in my life, not necessarily the people I dated. Stop getting too autobiographical!  

Patternicity

Patternicty is a Noun. It is also a neurological disease where the 'sufferer' finds patterns in meaningful and meaninglessness images/situations/ life. Causing Type-1 and Type-2 errors.

When this word concerns me and my blog, you already know what this writer's problem is. However, with the 'right' levels of Dopamine, I think, the Mr. Right, The perfect Career option (apart for writing reports and kissing frogs) and (finally taking pity on my over worked brain and) finish writing my book will work out.

Till then, I think, I will stick to lowering my type-1 error patterns.      

Ps. For everyone who has not read or heard of Micheal Shermer, this post maybe a little out of context.

Words of Caution

[getting to research and write this one, has been a horror, and the most honest experience.]

Style Icon: It does not matter whom you marry; at the end of the day, you will have to deal with a lot of trauma.

Wise Capitalist: Love is a simple equalization of have and have not. You must 'have' what you did not before you get emotional about the guy. ('Have' is a positive term'.)

K: If the man, who claims to love you in return for your love, does not let you enter his life, his work space, his friend space or his family space. He's just not that into you.

Dream Catcher: You'd think men fake relationships, and you'd be right. However, women too sail through the relationships, till they find a better cruise to board.

Drama King: 'She says there is nothing not like-able in you. Yet there is another man, whom I can not trust, but for that very reason, I must have him.'
Women must have what they can change. Men must have what would provide them a change.

Child Mom: Most Women spend their lives trying to figure out what their 'not-yet-called' date/ 'working late' lover, 'out of town on a conference' husband is thinking, eating, wearing. The man usually does not think of her till they meet. And when he does, his answer to how all the above was, is usually - 'hmmm, busy, okay, alright, exhausting, informative.' Mostly, you wanting to know about his life (being inquisitive) is your fault.

Mini Me: 1) Men do not have a concept of a female best friend. They either want to do you, or you do not qualify as a woman for them.
 2) The worse part is when you don't know your place on the 'couple's level of togetherness'. Are you a friend with benefits, a girlfriend, a mistress, or the to-be wife; he will let you linger, and you will search for names to fit your relationship into.

Pudgy Fingers: Never give a man the benefit of Silence, Forgetting, or Being Busy. We are never too busy to hook up, call or have sex with a girl. And mind you, we are very vocal; remember, the guy did woo you into dating him, into his bed...  or worse, into your bed (he's smart enough to not invite you over).

They are our means of escape, like we'd wait till you blow your tin off, then play the calm Perseus all set to slay the freaky Medusa that you have now become. If we wanted a woman for 'real', we'd be whoever she wanted us to be. For God sakes, we'd had wars over our romantic interests! 

Androgene: Really, it's easy to make a woman feel that every break-up is her fault. Guys are experts in that game. In addition, we have amazing levels of patience.We'd pester, cajole, domesticate you into caring for our needs viz; food, shopping, laundry... (Biologically, it is easier to domesticate female animals than male animals.) and then call you a nag. It's fun you know sometimes, to just play it out and see how most women react the exact way! No offenses though, just that you should get smarter, K.

I think, now I AM

Of Love Stories...

There are many loves that we can not explain,
and many lovers that we can no longer acknowledge.
And the path of silent respect is the only way to face them.

Happy Birthday, Black Pearl.