The Crazy Class Trip (1)

We started off for the station with plenty of time to spare. It was 2.30 in the afternoon and we had at least an hour and a half’s wait at the station, before our train to Bangalore was due. I started texting as soon as we left school. Many of my friends outside of school had been warned to keep their phones nearby in case I was dying of boredom and needed rescuing.

The hostelites (slang. Meaning students staying in the hostel.) , many of them seeing ‘proper food and drink’ (eg: Lays, Pepsi, etc.) after many days, rushed towards the only shop on the small station.  A minor problem with the zips of two bags was soon solved with a combined group effort. I’m pretty sure we scared all the people at the station with some crazy posing for photos and loads of horrible jokes (most of them made up by yours truly).The train arrived and we all climbed in. It was quite an amusing scene because believe it or not, it was the first time three of the girls were travelling by a train.

I stayed up past one in the morning, reading ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, because my darling friends were giggling over their respective cells. We reached at 8.30 in the morning and made our way to a miserable excuse for a hotel. After having breakfast and changing we started off for the largest theme park in India- Wonder La. It was quite eventful. A classmate twisting my arm as he thought I was the guy who was annoying him, and then later fainting due to dehydration put me at the top of the ‘Worry, she’s not well’ list.

Shopping at the forum was fun. My friend getting lost in Landmark was funnier. Proving that she was a weakling at Amoeba was the funniest. Oh and then we walked into a shop completely ignoring the ‘Closed’ sign! Well you can’t really blame us. She was high on Redbull and me on an extra large glass of Pepsi (yes I act drunk if I have too much Pepsi or cola.). To my delight the store which sold only candy was still there. We got back at midnight, got one room fiasco sorted out by one, and slept at three, to be woken up at six thirty.

A Peg of Culture

Two days ago, I was accused by a class teacher for not following ‘Indian culture’. This got me thinking about what exactly ‘Indian culture’ was.

 In a foul mood, I asked myself if Indian culture was killing widowed women (sati), child marriage and female infanticide. Could it also be marriages breaking up because the bride’s family could not give the groom’s side the car they wanted or the spacious 4 bed-room apartment in an elite area, costing close to thirty lakhs or more?                                                                                                                                                                      Is it Indian culture to be subdued and not speak up against atrocities? Is it Indian culture to stand by and watch a woman and a child being abused and beaten up? Is it Indian culture to throw out family members who have an illness, who are aged or who express a different opinion? Is it acceptable to kill a couple because they are going out against their families’ wishes?

Before you all think I’m a pessimist, let me tell you this. After I calmed down a little, I started thinking rationally. Indian culture is also languages which are ancient. Indian culture is also dance forms, and music so unique, people from all over the world come to learn or experience it. There are temples, palaces and forts that stun you. One of the Seven Wonders of the World just happens to be in India.

Indian culture was absorbing other cultures, being tolerant and being able to accept.

 Fusion music, certain dance forms are considered ‘bad’. New kinds of attire are not accepted. People label everything and everyone. It is so annoying to go to your class and hear the teachers say “Ah! This class! It has a reputation” with a knowing smirk.

  Even though we have all these great monuments and things, what is the use when people are not a part of it?

After thinking about this for a day, I reached a logical conclusion. What my teacher understand as Indian culture, is just her own, not generic Indian.

Chris (1)

I've been doing this online course, and this was a homework assignment I got and particularly liked, as it was about fiction, and wanted to share it :)

Chris began to question the wisdom of this trip. Sweat dripped down her back, making her t-shirt stick to her. But it did not bother her. After all she loved hiking, and anything that had to do with the outdoors and didn’t mind a bit of sweat, or looking like a mess. No, it was the company that did. She chided herself for thinking that her two best friends, who also were a couple, had actually asked her to accompany them on the hike because they knew that she liked it. Had she been in her senses she would have realized then and there that they wanted her to come along because otherwise there was no way their parents were going to let them stay together for the whole day. A chaperone that is what she was.

She tried it too treat it like any other hike, but it was a bit difficult to as she would go on forward and then have to wait for the two love birds to catch up, as they would be busy kissing each other to notice that the so called ‘companion’ had gone on.

 
She had not really had a problem with couples before. But then her friends started becoming a little too self absorbed. If one had a fight with her, the other wouldn't talk with her either. With a sigh she continued walking, eyes downcast. An avid nature lover, she looked up above at the branches when she heard an unfamiliar call of a bird. She kept walking trying to locate the bird. Big mistake. A branch tripped her, and she fell, all her weight on her right ankle. 
Groaning, she tried to keep a cool head, knowing that soon her friends would find her, but not knowing when. A twig snapped, her head jerked up, alert. A man stood next to her. He knelt and asked ‘Are you ok? That was quite a nasty tumble you took.’ Assessing him, Chris took her time to answer. Dark hair was pulled back at the nape. Warm brown eyes looked at her with concern. He was a mess, but yet breathtakingly handsome. She nodded and said ‘Just a sprained ankle.’ and gave him a small smile.
The man smiled back, a dimple appearing. ‘Are you alone?’ he questioned. ‘No, my friends should be catching up with me soon’ Chris replied with a grimace. ‘Let keep you company till they come then.’ he replied, settling himself down next to Chris. ‘And let’s take a look at that ankle, while I’m at it.’ It was starting to swell. With expert fingers, he gently touched it. ‘Not broken.’ he declared. Chris smiled. ‘I figured as much myself.’ He grinned back. ‘Bulls fan, huh?’ he asked noticing her wristband. ‘All the way!’ she exclaimed. ‘Chris???!’ she heard her name being called. Her friends appeared, gasping as they saw her swollen ankle. She got up with their, thanking the kind man. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ he promised, smiling.

False Promises

You said you’ll be here

Before the month ended

Very close to me, near 

And my broken heart mended

But you broke it again

With all your lies

Tell me, what did you gain

As all my hope dies

You smile even as I weep

For your love is all I asked

The wound, it goes deep

I should have kept my feelings masked