Fuck me, I have a vagina.

Have you ever been so angry that you felt tears sting your eyes? So angry, that your lips shivered and your fists tightened into a pale white? So angry that your heart beat quickened and you could feel blood gush to your head? I have.
I am. I am that angry. I am that angry because I refuse to understand any justification given by the administration and government for the lathi charge and water cannon firing by the police on innocent protesters. They weren’t agitators who needed to be shooed away, they were regular people of the city who felt so moved by a singular event (of a gang rape) that they all stepped out unanimously and asked for a solution to a problem that has been tainting the reputation of not just the city and the country but that of the men as well.

Treating the symptom instead of the the disease is the solution the Delhi Police chose. When the young girls of the capital city of India reached the gates of the authorities at the Rashtriya Pati bhavan, no-one stepped out, not one authority and instead the people of the nation were hit, mistreated and manhandled. I find it funny, to believe, that the girls protesting against a gang rape were themselves hurt and bruised by the Police.

Switch on your television sets. See what is happening to those who protest. Instead of feeling scared, feel angered and step out. There is a peaceful march on 25th of December at Park street. Make this Christmas of yours count. Show up with a candle and walk.

In a country where women are given the position of goddesses, I don’t feel safe in a room full of men, my mother doesn’t let me travel alone post sundown and my father is worried about my well being solely because I have ovaries instead or testicles.
Do I really want to be known as ‘Sweta, the one from the country of rapes and no action against the rapists’? I had been to Thailand, BKK to be more precise, in October and in a country like theirs where prostitution is open and hormones run amuck, I felt safer than I do in India. No-one felt me up even in Walking Street. No-one uttered one lewd comment while I wore a low neck cleavage showing dress. No-one even noticed that I was there, wearing minimal clothes, why? Because everyone knows how to behave and because everyone is comfortable with seeing skin.

Our country, India, has a long way to go in accepting this visual display of skin and hell, even affection. But before this acceptance kicks in, the tolerance against those who cannot keep it in their pants needs to be reduced. Zero tolerance is what is required. What is my fault to have been born with two X chromosomes? Just because your mother couldn’t get through your thick skull and teach you manners, just because your father couldn’t make you behave in front of your girl cousins, just because you are a man, you can not rape me. And unfortunately, this certainty of not being raped will not get into our heads either until there is a zero tolerance that is developed towards those who commit any sort of crime against women.

No, this is not feminism. This is not me, demanding for special laws for women. This is a girl,  demanding for simple laws for a human being. The scenario has reached a stage where women are special human beings, where men are the only ones enjoing the benefits of human laws and women, are outcast. Or else, why would a rape victim be forced to prove herself of being raped? Why else would the authorities dilly dally in hanging the ones who have so openly raped a girl in a moving bus? Why else would the government let a man shoot Jessica and get away with it for so many years? Why does justice take a such a long time to get served?

The outrageous number of rapes that happen in Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata combined make me shudder with fear sometimes. Make the streets calm. And make the police shove their lathis up their you-know-where.

Section 144 is not the answer to ending the protest. The only way to end these processions demanding justice, is very simple. Provide justice. Barricading the area an protecting the President will not serve its purpose because India is a huge country with an even larger population. If all of us decide to come together, no amount of force will be able to stop us. They couldn’t stop us 7 decades ago when the British were here and they wouldn’t be able to stop us now.

What men need to do and how they need to behave as been enough emphasised on and I will not write about it. All I am going to say is make his country a safer place. Make it a place where people, especially women, from other nations feel safe. Make it a destination where girls can travel when they want and not get raped. Change the people or change the laws. Or both, if possible.
And men, be the change you want to see. The next time you compliment a girl, make sure it sounds like one. And girls, fight. Fight with all your might and make India a better place.

It isn’t a crime to protest. This is not a case of one girl suffering in the ICU. (She is currently better but has a respiratory tract infection and will have to live on intravenous nutrition for the rest of her life if her intestine isn’t transplanted..and even that has its side effects.). This is a protest against all crimes towards women. This is a fight of every women. The question do you feel safe should be answered with I AM NOT SAFE.

-make the world look down upon India for this day so that we are forced to look down with shame and by we, I mean the government. Make the world change India.


He makes tea for his mom when she’s back home, tired and exhausted. He makes tea! Aww he makes tea. 😀

He knows how to make tea. And crepes. And omelettes. We’ll not starve and we’ll eat well.

He made tea. :’)
He made me fall for him by making tea for his mum.


Number one.

It’s probably nothing. It is nothing. But why does the small achievements of other people, other anything-that-moves make me feel so inhibited and affected that I get all warm and jealous. Yes, jealous. Is it an only child thing? I cannot handle the success of the people close to me without me having achieved it already. I need to be there before you get there.

I cannot face being second. Being first and being good, no, being the best, has begun to stress me out. I can see the end. I know this isn’t good but I can’t face success..the success of others. It motivates me to get there as fast as I can and as soon as I can. It turns me into a bitch who plots and plans ways to reach a pedestal that others will have to work as hard as I did to reach there.

I know I seem like a big boohoo cry baby who is intimated far too easily and you wouldn’t be wrong. I do feel intimidated. But I need to be first. Or if not first, I need to be the best.


Urgh. Don’t get me wrong I love those people. I want them to be happy and achieve all the glory they can get but I want God to bless me first. Boohoo! I have like this pathological urge to excel in stuff that doesn’t even need me to excel in it. Like, like, being the tallest girl or err, remembering dialogues from sitcoms which others know so well and I don’t. Everything seems to be a race and I can’t stand losing. And by losing I mean, not be first. Yeah yeah I get your psychological blabber about ‘I will grow up’ and I know I will.

Hmm. I want to order pizza. I think I need a dog. Shaa, I think it is a sibling thing. At least I am the first born muhahahahahaha.



I’m not a communist, or a capitalist. I’m more of a leave-me-the-hell-alone-ist.

Fanaticism is the opposite of love. A wise man once told me– he’s a Muslim, by the way– that he has more in common with a rational, reasonable-minded Jew than he does with a fanatic from his own religion. He has more in common with a rational, reasonable- minded Christian or Buddhist or Hindu than he does with a fanatic from his own religion. In fact, he has more in common with an atheist than he does with a fanatic from his own religion.

I agree with him, and I feel the same way. I also agree with Winston Churchill, who once defined a fanatic as-
Someone who won’t change his mind and can’t change the subject.

This is an excerpt from Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts. The quote struck as something very relevant in the global happenings. If only everyone agreed with it and thought similarly, the world would be a better place.

I promise..


..and watch them twinkle

When I said them, I had meant them. I don’t lie. I didn’t lie. And I miss you. I miss the nights we spent dreaming about the could-be and should-be. And about the day dreams we shared and the nightmares that made us huddle together. I miss the touch of your hand when the warm tears flowed down my cheeks and the sound of your laughter. I miss sounding gay and dancing around after being drunk on 2 pegs, like that’s even possible. I miss planning to watch movies with you. I miss not ending up watching them, afterall. I miss hoping to be with you. I miss the thrill of not knowing whether you’re coming.

I miss you. Drinking coffee and making cookies. And planning to make the coffee. And the cookies. And I miss completing the unfinished movies with you while trashing Harry Potter. I miss waiting for you to text first. I miss making you recharge my number. I miss making myself scold you.

I miss listening to lyrics and thinking about you. I miss confusing you about posts on my blog. And feeling irritated when you simply don’t understand stuff. And then I see your cute bespectacled face and melt. I miss talking like your lesbian lover. I miss loving you, like, in a non-sexual way. Or maybe, sexual too 😛

I don’t know who this post is about. There are glimpses of many friendships and relationships. Go figure.

And there have been many affairs
Many times I’ve thought to leave
But I bite my lip and turn around
Cause you’re the warmest thing I’ve ever found
– You’re in My Heart/ Rod Stewart.

Boys, I tell you.

There is a college right beside my room in the place that I live in while attending college. Raj college. And it is blaring out songs at full volume because of its fest. And I can’t study. The thyroid isn’t half as interesting when a not-so-melodious singer sings remix Hindi songs. And my roommate is out, she’s watching her professor perform some surgery and the other flat mate is a boy, so expecting him to be a little considerate and be there with me while I get bored even after telling him so is useless because he is sleeping and because he is a boy.

Q: Are all boys like this?
A: Yes.
Q: Men too?
A: Yes!

Take any boy you know, however mature, they are irresponsible and irritating and sing weird un-tunely songs proclaiming themselves to be the king of the world. Sorry, I got carried away by the songs being played. But either way, boys live in a pseudointellectual world of their own where the world is all chilled out at relaxed and no work needs to be done in time. They have their own schedule and own timetable, completely ignorant of the other half of the world; females, and therefore oblivious to the harrassment we have to face simply because they decide something isn’t as important as the PS3.

All humans with penis are the same at the basic level. Some may understand more than the rest, some might care more than the others but the problems remain the same. The mature ones aren’t good looking. The handsome mature ones aren’t your age. The ones that are your age are short heighted. The tall ones are too tall and the absolutely perfect ones don’t exist. Well, some do but who cares cause they aren’t available in the first place.

Boys don’t know how to converse. They don’t know how to talk. Hell, they don’t even know language. Very few know how to write. And even fewer know how to interpret.

Bleh. I hate the songs that are playing and I am VERY irritated and I’m lashing out on men. No, they’re actually nice things and deserve to be treated with care and fed biscuits and patted from time to time. There essential to the human race and did I say I hate the songs?

I’m hating them more because I am alone and my roomie is a spoil sport sometimes and doesn’t dance with me when I want to. The party and the fun always happens when she is in the mood. I’m sure, when she comes back she’ll not be super enthusiastic about it when I ask her if we should get up on the bed and dance our killer moves. All she’ll say would be- ‘No I have to study cause sir will ask questions tomorrow’ and I will have to go to the other room so that she can study in peace and I’ll be technically alone again 😦
Only if she is in the mood to have fun, we have fun and I hate it. Urgh!

– crossed. tangled. whatever.


There is constant pull between the things I want and the things I really want. Im not referring to a need but a want. I need to blame this constant state of flux on something so I blame it on my zodiac. Call me superfluous if you may, but the two fish swimming in opposite directions does have a significance in my life. The tug at each other, constantly moving in circles around the same centre.

I want to be with you. I can’t be with you. I should be with you. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t know what I want. I know exactly what is required. I know how but I don’t know why.

Let us be friends. God, how did we become friends? Let’s date. Oh, I am not sure. I can’t wait to meet you this time. Why are you coming?

I want ice cream. Ice cream is fattening. Let me gorge on chocolates. But im not in love. They aren’t related. How does it matter? I need choclate and I need love but I can’t stand either.

I love you. I hurt you. You piss me off. Stay away. I want you closer. Not so close. Don’t go further. I am sorry. But why should I be? It isn’t my fault. It is all my fault. I can’t be constant. I cannot decide. I cannot ascertain.

I’m hollow. I’m overflowing. I need you here. I don’t want you here. Need. Want. The constant flux. In turmoil. In turmoil.

Been a long time

It’s been a long time since I wrote something..anything. I haven’t been inspired enough to write something that would be worth reading. I had a lot of things in mind but nothing that made me go ‘wow I need to blog this’.
Anyway, I have been reading Shantaram all this while. The book isn’t the regular philosophy kind, yet it is filled with nuances that make you read that page again to grasp the actual meaning. The kind that makes you keep the book down and think. And I fall in love with this books.


An excerpt.

There was one chapter that dealt primarily with the coming together of things. In it, one of the author’s mentors explained to him, the secret of the universe. The universe it seems, is made up of stars and stardust and particles from the galaxy, and every step and everything we do moves towards a more complex system. Human beings began as simple, single celled amoeba and now, we are as complex as we can get. But as time passes we step towards becoming complex. This is known as a universal complexity. There is even a law in Hemistey which states the same. The world never simplifies when two things come together; it always becomes more complex and twisted.

And this got me thinkong about this one person who is coming to meet me all the way from another state. This person, maybe my best friend or maybe my boyfriend..could be my father or my aunt, but the coming together of two individuals and us meeting each other coud only lead to complexity. Is this a venom? Does it make everything more difficult or is the meeting essential? Questions kept swarming my tiny yet over worked brain while I slept and I reached a conclusion. I’ll get to that in a bit but before I do, I need you to understand why I had this dilemma.

Everytime someone prepares to come down to meet me, we both get excited and jump up and down with joy; deciding where to go and what to do. But as the date of arrival gets closer and closer, I panic. So do they. There is actually nothing much to do. And there is only so much we can talk about..and then I feel it is worthless. Them coming here would be a disappointment and I begin feeling pangs of anxiety. With it, I begin doubting the entire decision of their arrival. What I fail to understand is that they’re not coming to DO things but to MEET me. This happens regardless of who is coming over to meet me, but met so for my friends.

The conclusion? Well, the coming together and the coalescing is essential for the world to move forward. The most that could happen after an amalgamation would be a fall out between us and even that is a step forward, in the long run. Everything that does occur takes you towards a final goal or destination- be it love or hate. Love takes a more peaceful, pleasant and flowery road whereas hatred take a road that is longer and full of obstacles.

Take love. Be optimistic. Because being able to coalesce with someone else is in itself a giant leap forward..towards a zenith that is the universal complexity, a goal that we are all headed towards irrespective of the changes we take and the mistakes we make, we have to tet there. So might as well do all that we can, while we can!


-stay tangled.