The world is a market and you are a brand

"Kuch toh log kahenge, logo ka toh kaam hi hai kehna"

See, its pretty simple. People talk and that is the reason why they are called 'people' - faceless bubbles. But the choice is yours if you would want to waste your time listening to them or rather listen to your  heart. That decision to make a choice will set you apart as an individual with a face and a name or just another faceless member of the crowd.

Being different isn't a crime, its an act of daring to be yourself. Individuality is a birthright and you are the only one who can claim it. The world today has turned into a market where good brands sell, mediocre brands go unnoticed and the bad ass brands might actually gain you profits.
YOU ARE A BRAND and sooner or later you will have to realise how to market your brand out there. Every action, thought process, spoken words are reflections of your brand and it takes skill to carry it around well.  I have noticed many a times when people weigh the humor not according to its quality but by the rep of the originator. A good branding helps you bag those goody points, earn a reputation and a distinct label for yourself.

The cut-throat competition reminds you of the significance as to why promote a brand. But similar to good brands its the underlying quality of a person that makes him/her stand tall. Respect is an intangible aspect that one earns from his/her output. Leaders are the best examples of brand promotions when the inexperienced ones have to struggle and demand respect from their followers whereas a good leader just like established brands are least bothered for quality checks. Their actions and words command respect and nonetheless their indispensability. The prime reason why Salman's no brainer flicks can break box office records, facebook replaced orkut, HIMYM has Barney Stinson and Amitabh's omnipresence on television.

990 LEGO pieces assembled into MAERSK Line container ship

Kali

The dogs howled at the full moon which stared an empty road stretching out for miles.

She took out her cell phone for the 16^th time and wiped a sweat trickling down her brow. The street lights stood tall and fixed as silent guardians. One of the light bulbs flickered similar to the horror movie scenes, she thought to herself.

Her wedge heels started hurting the ankles now and it was getting difficult for her to walk on the uneven road. She looked around and found a homeless family sleeping on the other side of the road. The bhelpuri vendor was least bothered as well and was preoccupied packing up for the day. Annie decided to take her heels off and started walking barefoot.

Her maroon bandhni print kurta and navy blue jeans were in a perfect contrast and she wore two wooden bangles on her right wrist. If only, she knew of the auto strike today, Annie would have left early from work with her colleagues.

A distinct set of beats approach the road from a distance and as the car speeds up closer to Annie, the loud blaring music gets clearer. Before she could even turn her head to see, she is swooped by two guys and thrown inside the car behind the driver. The guy sitting next to the driver shrieks out and throws a liquor bottle at the beggars who stood there shocked. The glass bottle crashes near their feet and they step aback.

The white scorpio with tinted glass windows roves ahead and exits the road. A series of groping, biting, scratching and slapping begins inside the vehicle. Her hands are held tight as she struggles to move. Freeing one of her legs out of a corner she kicks the drunk driver hard on his head. The man hits the glass window and loses control. In a sudden moment , the car diverts from the main road and dashes on to a tree. A canister is hissed open and the last sight is of two cajoled-eyes behind a gas mask.

He gently open his eyes and shrugs to move,  gains his senses and finds that the four of them are tied on to a tree in the middle of a forest with a barbed wire.

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They rush outside when they hear him parking his scooter. “Daddy is home!” The two little girls chirp around in excitement and can’t wait for their mother to open the door. Planting a kiss each on the foreheads of his 7 year old twins, Jai Kishanji settles down on the chair. A struggling day is all worth it in the end to see his angels smile. They have a simple dinner with rice, lentils and onions. He puts them to sleep by tugging them in their blankets and switches off the 40W light bulb dangling from he roof. The three hours of the day when he gets to meet his babies are the best moments. He wakes up early and leaves for work as a local train driver sharp by 5 am on his old second hand scooter.

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She stares directly into his eyes with a wicked smile on her pursed lips. A woman’s fixed gaze on him for the first time makes him uncomfortable. His eyes move swiftly and he looks at the others. She slaps him straight across his face and gives a wry smile. The exact slyness that the group of boys used to pass when she walked through the lane for tuitions, the same dirty look the chemistry lab assistant gave while passing her a beaker...the devilish smile he gave her when walking out of the courtroom.

His face is tightened and he warns her with clenched teeth.  The reactions excite Annie and she slaps him twice. This time harder planting her finger marks on his cheeks. He is the eldest of them all in mid-30s and the embarrassment boils him within. The other three men watch with confusion until one of them abuses her.

Annie moves back and stands up. She pulls out a blood-stained axe tucked in her jeans below her kurta and lets out a laugh.  For the first time in their lives does a woman’s tinkling laughter shiver these pervert men for real.  As she lifts the axe straight over one of their heads, the cries for mercy take her back to the moment when...

Annie checks her buzzing cell phone after the lecture. 47 missed calls in an hour. She calls back her mother who does not pick the call. There is a pang of fear and she redials. After 7 rings, a stranger answers saying her mother is at Safdarjung Hospital and her sister’s condition is critical.

Annie holds Priya’s hand firmly asking her to get up. Priya’s face is unidentifiable with the injuries. The animals had punched her face near her eyes and beaten her violently before the rape. She held Annie’s hand back for a moment to utter the words in a feeble voice: “I begged them for mercy each time”.

The police interrogates Jai Kishanji at their house after the funeral.

Q.”Why was she out at 8 pm? (Doesn’t she know the streets are unsafe?)

A: Priya’s friend invited her for a birthday party.  I have always had full faith on my girls and I do not impose curfews on them.

Q.”Did she have male friends?” (Did she have a string of boyfriends?)

A: Yes. My daughter was an amiable person and always surrounded with many friends both girls & boys.

 Q.”One of the rapists was her batchmate. We are suspecting a forlorn lover’s revenge.  Are you aware if your daughter was having an affair?”

A brief moment of silence fell in the room. Jai Kishanji folded his hands in a plea with tearful eyes and asked them to leave.

They hire a lawyer for the case who claims himself as the best and assures them justice. The case dragged for 2 years and they mortgaged their village property. After 4-1/2 years the high court found the accused innocent and cleared all the convictions upon them.

Annie stands near the court-room door with her parents who shed tears of helplessness. Her eyes meet his and he smirks after eyeing her from top to toe. She stood there shell-shocked as his smile pins her there at that point. A gush of feelings arise in her and it was then when Annie realises what she was meant to do in this life.

48 days later a mutilated body was found in Kali Nagar dumped near the municipal garbage bin in a black polythene. The news paper reports said that post mortems confirmed his name as the same guy who was convicted for Priya Kishan’s rape & murder in 2004. The head and his private part were missing.   

Weak

Delhi medical student gang rape case isn't an eye-opener..our eyes were peeled open many years back. But we have to live on with our daily lives after criticizing.
I am someone's daughter, sister, colleague and friend too just like the medical student in Delhi. I too watch evening movie shows and return home at 11. Does that mean that every time I board a bus,train,taxi or auto I havta thank the driver that he didn't choose to rape me!!!
Is this what we have become? Independent, hard -working , educated women living at the mercy of men who can't resist their animal instincts the moment they sight anything close to female. Is there any possible solution to this or should we shut ourselves in our homes and pray to be safe each day?

The nasty kid with a bagpack and a gun

When 21 year old Ajmal Kasab arrived in India without a passport and a sinister mission in mind, little had he imagined the (de) fame he was to earn in this nation! He lived the quarter of his life in fanaticism and hatred against a group of unseen faces who never caused any direct harm to him or his family but yet he was determined to kill them.  Bottled anger is apparent for most at this age and it has long been exploited by all terrorist groups.

We waited for four years to execute a murderer who did not pause for a moment to kill innocent lives and rip our nation’s peace into shreds. We keep waiting for justice to be justified by itself for decades till common man grows ‘sick’ of the same headlines – Jessica Lal,  Aarushi , Babri Masjid, Godhra, Naroda Patiya, Best bakery.. an endless list of unjustified, unanswered questions that force us into submissive observers. 

Caving

Its quite comfy in here with the fire lit and the downpour outside. The insects are a bit of a menace though. The smell of roasted meat and stew remind me of the oven bell in my furnished kitchen. I do not even lift my head anymore if something hisses around, shiny hides aren't terrifying to my sight now. I am letting my toolbag to dry in this humid weather(funny expectations!) by emptying it and laying down all my rare tools on the ground that cost me a fortune.
and I ask .... Is this what I had planned for myself? I did not go entirely wrong there. Didn't I phrase it saying "carving out my space". Carved this space so much so that it has turned into a cave. A large empty dark cave where the only response I receive when I call out is of my own echo.
But its still comfy here...

Behind those slit eyes

Its a general school of perverse thought that is deep rooted and the recent NE exodus from southern cities are reflections of it. The bloodshed & gore occurring in Assam between Bodos & immigrants wouldn't have taken a communal shape if news channels and media made true projections that the riots were a clash for political supremacy and dominance. But the fact still remains the lack of awareness of the general public (including educated/school & college students) who still cannot differentiate a North Eastern from a Nepali or Burman or Chinese or Japanese or Indonesian or any other slit-eyed yellow skinned for that matter. Its both shameful and sad that even after struggling through 65 years of independence together as a country, the seven sisters still receive a step-motherly treatment.
I was given the role of a waitress in a play once because thats what we do! (LMAO :D)
Racial discrimination has turned into a daily part & parcel of my life and my family, cousins, relatives, friends once we venture out from our home states. Once an auto driver checked whether I paid him Indian currency! Besides these funny experiences there are the intolerable ones that go beyond jokes & laughter. Eve-teasing, name calling, bullying are actually the lighter sides of this perversion (to them, not to us). The unwarned sudden attacks on the Manipuri students & workers in Secunderabad & Hyderabad as knee-jerk reaction to the doctored videos of killings in Myanmar, which again wasn't a religious conflict, are subtle hints to enemy who target at nothing else but weak points of  our nation.