Solitary confinement.

I have a lot to say. This holds true not only for a cross-section of time but also if longitudinally studied over any period of time. I had a lot to say when I was 5 (Though I don't remember what I wanted to say then). I had a lot to say when I was 15. My parents got regular complaints from my school, "She does not stay silent for a minute and disturbs the class", sometimes subdued by indulgent words like, "Don't worry please, she is just so full of life, and besides she does her bit of work when it comes to studies." Jovial or not, disturbing or not, I actually talked a lot. And now when I'm already some months past 25, I still have a lot to say. It's not a problem if you don't have something concrete or meaningful to say when you're 5. Nobody expects maturity from a 15 year old even. But at 25 also, I, a 'sensible, not too fool, responsible' voter of the country, rarely have some sensible, intellectual or responsible thing to say. So I just babble. But then my babbling is absolutely necessary for me. I can't not say anything and let things or comments or views of others go without my mouthing questions or support. When I don't opine on any ongoing thing for more than three days knowing that my point is unnecessary as others don't want to know what I think, I feel restless. I may also feel like crying by the end of those hours. And sometimes, defeated by impulse, one of my best friends, I start uttering my point of view; all the while knowing that no one wants to know. Most of the time, though, I don't know what I'm talking about. I can just go on if any thread of conversation is not beyond my pitiable knowledge. If it stretches far from that, I listen very carefully and try to assimilate that new thing. Unbelievably I never run out of fillers then also, however nonintellectual they might be. I usually participate in the discussions my closed groups go on with on any social network. Not because I'm highly interested in that topic or I have a view to share, but mostly because of my age-old habit. There are times when I don't find an answer to any remark any friend has made and I rely on expressions as I don't want a conversation to end because I couldn't reciprocate. If it is the other way, I don't mind. I'm hardly silent when there are people around. Completely sociable, aren't I? But then again, there are times when I hate to be verbally active. That is essentially when I'm preoccupied with something else. Before too long, I'm sociable again. I engage myself in all kinds of conversations again - meaningful, meaningless, idiotic, too intelligent for me, goal-directed, arbitrary, funny, humourless and all kinds that I can come up with. There's a small paradox though. I love to talk and I talk. But whenever I want to talk about something with a significantly high amount of emotion attached, I find my stock of words as well as grammar terribly insufficient. I start doubting the smartness my tongue is famous for. And invariably I rely on my fingers completely. When asked to talk about, I wear laughter, coolness and indifference to cover up the palpitations I'm having. Change the topic and you will get that silly talkative me back. In a nutshell, I am an inefficient talker, but a talker above everything. Imagining a world without anyone to talk to (not even diary and blogs) is worse than dying for me. Tell me I'd never have to experience that and I'll be the happiest person.

The Sunglasses:

Well, this post is about my take on the sunglasses. The title may suggest an elaborate description of sunglasses, but my knowledge of that is far less than wikipedia. I have heard of many types like aviator, wayfarer etc etc. Honestly I don't know a letter about any type or its characteristics or even its distinguishing features. My post is on how I feel when I put my shades on. I used to dislike using them before. But the sun and my mother have left no way out now. A few days back when I was walking towards my soon-to-be-college at about eleven in the morning, pros and cons of wearing shades emerged in my mind sequentially.
Disadvantages:
1. You cannot truly see the colour of the day. A bright sunny (synonymous to burning and pathetic) day seems either as soothing as sepia or cloudy and might make you apprehensive of storm if you're suddenly waking up from your traveler's nap in the vehicle you're inside (depending on the colour of your sunglasses; categorizing them on the basis of colour is much easier I guess). On taking your shades off, the dreamy sky would suddenly change into a terror staring you in your face.
2. You might feel that the taxi is not stopping for you as it is not able to see you. There, sometimes, is a blinding feeling that amateurs like me experience.
3. If you're traveling in a public vehicle, you'll surely feel like throwing it away at least twice; while getting into the bus/train/whatever and while getting down from it, when the people behind you will squeeze you into it or out of it and you won't even get enough time to take off and put the shades in your bag. As a result, you should always keep in mind your quarterly possibility of visiting the repair shop.
Thinking over and over it, I couldn't find another disadvantage. So, proceeding to the advantages:
1. Your eyes are saved from dust.
2. your eyes are saved from the sun.
3. your styes are saved from being noticed.
Now some really important ones, apart from those told by your parents or dermatologist.
4. You can dissect a boy/girl standing or sitting in front of you from head to toe, without being caught, in a sophisticated way, just by positioning your head properly.
5. You can simply turn your head towards the window of the bus and not notice the senior and somewhat limping citizen( coming in your field of vision) standing beside your seat.
6. You can ignore the conductor thrice during your journey (you get an extra edge if you have your earphones on) with the feeling that the bus belongs to your ancestors and conductors are basically begging for your fare instead of having the right to ask for it. But you will never make a mistake in counting the change you're given and will solve any discrepancy in your estimation of fare and his rendering of it immediately, almost in a lightning fast speed.
7. While walking you can stamp someone because of your utter carelessness, but all you need is a "sorry" with half-open lips. Your 6K sunglasses will do the rest.
8. You can easily give the "dirty" street children a dirtier look from behind it, esp when they mistakenly touch your Levis jeans.
The rest are purely feminine.
9. No need to worry if you forgot to or didn't have the time to put on your eye make-up. You will still look gorgeous.
10. You can almost cry (emphasizing on the word 'almost' as your flowing tears will require a hijaab to cover them) behind it, when your boyfriend says he is busy somewhere and cannot come to meet you.

The list is exhaustive, I admit. But if I spend one more hour on it, I'm sure to figure out a handful of other advantages too to add to my list. But these, for me, are sufficient to make my once-hated sunglasses a part of my daily-wear, henceforth.

My name..

When I was a kid, I did not like my name. Like all those kids who like others' toys more, I liked others' names more. I never found a movie where any character, even the housekeeper's one, had my name. The name was distorted by adding "ni" whenever it appeared in any song. There must have been other reasons, too, for my not liking my name. I don't remember them now. I fancied myself to be called something else. All my childhood books carried the sign of this dislike on their first page. I wrote some other name and pet name there. One example is my mother's Geetabitan where I wrote two or three names I made up for myself. When I think of it now, I feel like slapping myself for ruining those books. Anyway, cut to adolescence. Gradually I started growing fond of my name. I became friend with a girl in my class just because she had the same name. We still are almost best friends. That movie or song thing, which made me sad before, started to become a matter of pride. I found a way to feel different from others (though I was not much different actually. ;-) ). Then years passed. Studies, examinations, grades, career, and then relationships and break-ups left very little time for me to think over insignificant factors like my name. Now I'm on a break again. And so I have more than ample time to think of the evolution of my feelings regarding my name. I have missed some phases though, so I can't but thank my poor memory and lack of consistency. Whatever. I can clearly remember one thing that is I have always appreciated names which were of a certain kind. I've heard lots of names, some common, some uncommon. But the names which attracted me were those which were somehow neutral, not depicting any particular quality of a woman. There are names which describe a woman's eyes, or lips, or face, fragrance, fairness or something else all of which mean "beautiful" in some or other way. For example, sudarshana, kasturi, shweta, neelakshi, meenakshi, enakhshi and other akshi-s etc. And if there is a shortage of such names, add a "shree" to it to make it beautiful. It feels like beauty is a must-have thing. If you don't have it, not even in your name, you're a bit less feminine. Then come qualities. Females are preferred to be obedient, pious, groomed like an ideal subordinate to any household etc and that should somehow be reflected in their names. Once I went to a graveyard with a friend of mine. On the grave of a woman, a wife of someone, those very words were written to describe how good she was in her life. That was some hundred years ago. Today we don't use those words directly. We just name the kids. Girls carry in their names the society's desire for peace, happiness, beauty, holiness. No, I don't work for change. But whenever I see this, I hear these, I feel thankful that my parents did not put up their bit of expectation in my name. I am happy that I don't mean any of these that innumerable other girls mean. I am not named after any holy heroine of any epic. My name has no conflict with my being, my nature. I don't depict anything. I'm just an ordinary girl with an ordinary name.