Odiferous Beings.

Having food in your teeth is embarrassment beyond words when you are grinning at a person and having a ball of a time. The person doesn't want to be rude, so doesn't mention the little black peeping tom in your teeth, but they can't help but stare at the disturbance. And when finally when you do realize that you had a "friend" sticking around all the while, all you can do is turn beetroot red and mega facepalm. 

You know what sucks even more? When you smell like a zombie that had it's coffin stuffed with rotten eggs, in a gutter near a fish market. Okay, that was a little too much. What I mean to say is, smelling bad is one of the biggest turn offs ever intended by nature. Before I begin, let me just explain the whole phenomenon of stinking really bad after sweating in buckets. 

Firstly, the reason why we sweat is to cool our bodies. The warmer we are, the higher are body temperature so the more we sweat. There are two kinds of sweat glands. One which is there all over your body, which only releases salty water sweat, this is the Good Guy Sweat Gland, so he doesn't stink. Now, every story needs a villain, and in our biological story, it's the Meanie Sweat Gland which produces oily sweat which is  more concentrated in the armpits,scalp and the genital area. He himself, is evil, but not as much, because every evil villain is better off with an accomplice, the bacteria loves eating this sweat. Here's a creepy fact, there always is bacteria in your armpits, but they don't smell. (Like human beings, the fattier food the more pungent "gaseous waste".) The smell, is the waste produced by the bacteria after eating your oily sweat. Basically, it's just bacteria farts. 

Everyone has those times when we sweat by buckets, and yes, you should be stinking. But the catch, is when, some people realize this and they dash for the bathrooms, while others don't. That's what is causing me to write this post in the first place. 

Like bad hair days, we have stinky days, when you think you're stinking a little more than average. That's why the world has created deodorants, colognes, perfumes. SO THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. Please don't be afraid to go ahead and  use one. And for us teenagers, puberty is a hag. We smell like decaying onions even when you do absolutely nothing, so don't forget to carry a little handy cologne or anything good. 

Ah, then we have the case of the bad breath. When you're conversing with someone and you realize they're looking a little too uncomfortable, they're scratching their noses and looking at your mouth. You can narrow it down to two conclusions:

a) They are bored as hell. 

b) Your mouth is stiiiiiinking!

Bad breath comes with bad brushing habits and empty stomachs. Remember to brush twice day, (or once more if you seem to smell like a drainage) and carry around a box of mints. Otherwise, God bless you child, not many would like to engage in a conversation with you. 

Real Men

Jonathan Walton- Here's the link.

I'm sorry Anna Nicole

- Jonathon Walton

Poetry, it’s my release
My shield from my own grief
The refuge to which I retreat
When this world is too much for me 
Phrases on pages
Language my mind speaks 
Metaphors and similes
Poetic elements 
I just breath.

This poem is entitled I’m sorry
Anna Nicole

I step up to a magazine stand
And it’s like stepping up to an auction block
Because sex is for sale
As I see the bodies of females
On display 
For my ‘trying not to look like I’m viewing pleasure’
And I think to myself
“Which one is worse?
The burqa or Bulimia?"

“Ladies, free yourself so we can buy you
Don’t worry about your value 
We will define you
Because happenings minus the fact 
Equals news for us
And news equals the truth for us
So Anna Nicole must have died from an overdose”

But I know there is a thin line 
Between tight and too small
So pornography is just prostitution with taxes
And the fact is
Anna Nicole lost her power of self definition
And it killed her
She become a commodity
A novelty
It really starts to bother me
How brothers under covers
Went to the gutter and had her
For 2.99
Or less

So this is my apology
Because I am one of them
A letter asking for forgiveness from the hearts
Of all women
See dear Anna Nicole, Jenna Jamison 
And those Vivid Video Vixens
Those Playmates and Penthouse
And those pictures on the Internet that have no names
Just descriptions

I wish that I could write you a cheque
And give you back what I took
Give you a DVD or a magazine
To upload your self worth
Download your dignity 
Or just see what you are really worth
Because I witness images I didn’t have a right to
And I can’t erase my memory 
So I have to write you and apologise 
For taking something that I paid for a price
But no matter how high
Should have never been mine

I realised something
Standing on the corner of Broadway and 116th
As I saw 57 magazines
And women covered the covers
Of 53
These weren’t just bodies
They were sisters, daughters and mothers
And it was my call to be the best 
Husband, son and brother

See now, with a changed heart
I am trying to change
My mind
And my desire
See Anna Nicole makes me worry
But the unnamed make me cry
Because how many girls have died 
Or been hospitalised from not eating 
Trying to be the ‘right size’
How many pills have been popped
How many drips of blood have been dropped
Onto bathroom floors
Behind dorm room doors
Or those other doors that lock on the opposite sides 
Of cell blocks

See, when will we wake up?
And realise we are raising a generation of ‘prosti-tots’
Kids that know how to suck
Before they know how to love
Know multiple positions 
Before they know long division
And the minority becomes those 
Who are not sexual assault victims

See this is for Denise
Laying down in front of a web cam 
And following directions
The wife 
Who just found her husband’s private pleasure collection
The girl at the bus stop 
Who has just been molested 
The Lady
Walking the street followed by cat-calls and craned necks

I’m sorry

And that’s all that I can say

But when I have a son 
I will raise him to respect you
And if my poems are bricks
I’ll build word walls to protect you
From males not worthy to hold the title 
Of “man”

Sisters and Mothers
I’m sorry

Husbands, Sons and Brothers please
Pick up your bats 
Because the women of this world 
Are waiting for us 
To step up

A Poem Of Nothingness.

Caved in thoughts run around the mind, 

Beams escape through the Venetian blind.

At the corner, poised a deaf 6-string, 

Music, melody, many thoughts does it bring. 

Staring out into the blue gradient of the sky, 

The Sun peeps from the clouds, perhaps shy. 

The television blares from beneath, 

I sit here,doing nothing, gritting my teeth. 

This is a poem of void, 

My creative side of the brain seems to be destroyed. 

Which is why I am annoyed, 

Now I know, why some authors remain unemployed. 

This is poem is a diddly squat, 

Because my blog seems to be as overwrought. 

And now because I have a long train of thought. 

This poem is nothing close to what it should have brought. 

Superhero Part 3.

This happened to my sister. Just thought it's worth sharing. 

"Sometimes the most unexpected people come to your aid in ways you cant fathom. 

This happened to me yesterday.
I had barely 60rs left in my wallet and I had to go to the station to catch a train from. I decided to withdraw cash from outside the campus as the ATMs inside weren't working. Little did I know that was the case for almost the entire town. 10 mins left for my train and I had gotten in at least 12 atms.
The auto driver drops me off at the station and says,'its alright, you can pay me after u come back.'
Touched I offer him all the cash I have and told him I'll pay the rest later. He looks at the cash in my hand and says,'is that all the cash you've got!? Here. ' and he takes out 100rs from his pocket.

Stunned, it took me a few moments to recover enough to decline politely and take his number.
In your hour of need God Almighty indeed sends his angels in disguise."

May God bless this man. 

Superhero Part 2.

Okay, this is one memory that you would want to "Shift + Delete" form your brain. But nope, it's ROM and I can't do anything to un-remember it. (No, not forget it, un-rememeber it) So, here goes.

I was on my way back from Australia. You can imagine 2 months of summer in an entirely different continent with the coolest aunt and uncle, so yeah, I don't need to give much of a description for my trip. Anyhow, coming back, after the tears, hugs and goodbyes, I got into my flight from Goldcoast, Queensland, I was to have a 10 hour transit in KL. So, my uncle booked a little nice hotel 3-4 kms from KL Airport, so that my grandmother and I could rest in luxury. I was a bit apprehensive about that, because I did not want to get out of the "safe haven" of the airport *snort*.

After 8 hours of butt numbing joblessness, at 3.AM Malaysian time, I reach KL. The immigration was a piss off, all these officials, didn't even bother to smile. And that annoys me, why can't they smile? Anyhow, I went tot the taxi counter and ordered for a VIP taxi, and voila my taxi chettan came. I got in, and right after we left, I looked into the rear view mirror into the taxi driver's face. At first, I wasn't sure if he was sleeping or his eyes were that way. I didn't want to seem racist, so, I kept quite, then I heard loud breathing, so I made even louder noises so he would wake up. He dropped us off at the hotel and he took off.

When I tried to check in, there were a few blunders, which I don't remember much. Anyway, here comes the thing *drum roll* I looked into my bag to get my wallet to make my pay, AND IT WASN'T THERE. I checked forever and it wasn't there. The emotions that hit me, jeeeeeeeezus (my palms are sweating right now thinking of it). Hopeless, sleepless, broke, I sat devastated, and episodes of Jailed Abroad started playing in my head, just to make things worse. I got WiFi and tried to tell my uncle that my wallet was missing. But by the time "MAMA, We're stuck" was sent, my iPod died. WOOHOOO. I paced back and forth in the hotel, just having faith and prayed that we'd get out of this hell sooner. And that's when my superhero came, no he wasn't wearing a cape or undies over his tights, he was simply wearing a security guard's uniform. He came up to me, gave me 20 ringets, and asked me to go to the airport and tell the Airport Officials. (Did I mention, I was stuck in a hotel, and I needed money to get to the airport by the shuttle bus? So yeah, if he hadn't given me, I would still be stuck in the hotel) I stared at him in awe, out of all those diamond-wearing, iPhone-carrying asians, this one man, saved my life.

I heaved around 40 kilos in each of my hands, got into the bus and reached the airport. I reported to the Airport Cops, the Indian Embassy and everyone else. So, I connect to WiFi (I had a phone as well so, woohoo) , and get this tornado of messages from my uncle. I reply back, short and brief about the whole thing and finally breathe better. I had dreams of buying chocolates and so many things from the KL duty free, and all that shattered. So with the little money I had left, I called my mum up from a payphone and updated her with everything. And the change even after that, I bought myself Dunkin' Donuts, as I stood drooling over Starbucks, Asia 24, KFC and Maccas. I log onto Facebook, and update a status on my current condition and asked if anyone could help. I felt so helpless, I almost started crying, but no, I had to be strong.

I took a short nap, sitting down, because I had to kill time. Right after I woke up, my uncle had arranged for a guy to lend us 200 ringets. I got the money, and I finally could buy a little more food. After 7 more excruciating hours ( sorry for being so very vague, it's just that it's all foggy memories now) we reach our gates, when a Mallu aunty, hearing out our sobstory, buys us food and some water. There again, someone saves us.

I sit in the flight bound to Cochin, "Ayyyshaaa, Fathimaaa, avide irrikedi" ( Aysha, Fathima sit there!!); my mother toungue floats around the whole airbus. I smile a little, I'm finally home. I didn't know what happened to that wallet, maybe it's still there, maybe someone who needed it really bad got it, maybe... aaah, let's just forget that. I say a little prayer to God, thanking him for giving my courage to go through this tirade, and also for that security guard, if it weren't for him. I do not know what I would be. 

Super Heroes Of Today.

I sit here, listening to Save The World by Swedish House Mafia. It's a nice song, isn't it? Mental images of Superheroes come into my mind. I've been obsessed with Superheroes lately. Not only because we hosted a super hero themed farewell for the 12th graders in the hostel. 

Lately there have been a few superheroes that I have stumbled across, certain people who have left me thanking God there's still humanity here. Call them angels, superheroes, saviors, but these people were the ones who have hearts bigger than their bank accounts. You're going to read 3 anecdotes, two which happened to me, one to my sister.

First One: I was in Chandigarh, visiting a Hindu temple. It was amazing, the majesty of those Gods and the devotion of the people. They sufficed for each other, the devotion credited to the Gods' mightiness and the vice versa. There was this one man, who had got my attention even before I took off my shoes at the entrance. He was lean, lanky and had hair so white that it looked very holy for some odd reason. After praying, we collect something called "prasad" a kind of halwa that we get which have been blessed by the pandits. I got my share of it, and I quickly gobbled up the wholesomeness and richness of the ghee. But this one man, he took his and put it in a bag. I noticed that, but didn't waste much thought on it. We came out of the temple and headed to the car. Some invisible force, compelled me to turn back, that's when I saw it. 

He walked to the other side of the street and took out the prasad from the bag and gave it to a row of hungry homeless children that eagerly waited for him. They thrust they hands out and looked up at this angel. I had never seen God in action before, but I saw it, and right in front of the temple. I could not possibly imagine what the kids saw him as, maybe they saw him as The Face Of God, because maybe he was. I can't possibly express my respect for this man. I do not know his name, I do not know where he is from, but I do know, he is an angel. 

To be continued...