Running.....

Sometimes it feels so much easier to run away from it all than to face it.

And sometimes, you can't run even if you want to.

And sometimes, you have to keep running to keep it going.

Right now, I am keeping it running.

For reasons I know best.

I have stuck to my guns and faced my demons.

I will do it again if the need arises.

People around me are running too. In the way they know best.

I don't judge them or blame them.

That is how they are and the only way they know perhaps.

Life is all about running things.

Keeping it running. Sometimes running away and sometimes running home.

And we all need to run to keep our sanity on some days.

I just need us to keep holding hands as we run this stretch together.

Don't let go of my hand. I won't let go of yours.

And we keep running this race we found ourselves a part of.

Ode to a virtual friend

hello stranger, 

friend and confidante,

sometimes you could be on the other side

far away, beyond my way

and then a word, a line, a song shared 

and it all makes sense

these connections, conversations 

no one can explain

i've tried. i know

i'm just happy you are here 

and sometimes there

in my life, in my world, 

in my inbox and smartphone

under the same sun and moon

why should every relationship have a name?

somethings are beyond definition

it's enough that we clicked

over a joke, a picture, imaginary coffee

and shared a minute 

of understanding and enlightenment

wisdom and truth

that's all there is to a beautiful life

the way we touch each other's existence

giving meaning to a mundane moment

enriching life and adding color

a kind word, cheering us up unexpectedly

sobering advice that seems just right for me

i am grateful for the solidarity

and empathy and the arguments;

the answers and the questions

the humor and the faith

and just so you know

you will never be alone

somewhere in the shadows 

i lurk to bring you a smile

when you least expect it

you would do the same for me

thank you for those many seconds

when life became beautiful

and i could begin to dream again

Closer

Darling, can you hold me closer?

I am on fire and so are you.

Locked in each other’s passion,

As waves of ecstasy roll over us

We dance to a tune so intense.

In a rhythm so natural,

Our hearts beat together.

As the head rush breaks into music in our ears,

Slick sweat run down your face.

Your eyes glisten with mad loving

And I taste longing on your lips.

Don’t let me go until I have died,

And live again in your arms tonight.

I want to know

source: tumblr

I want to hear what you have to say about me

I remember our december through june

I want to hear what you want

All the songs you played

The lines you wrote for me

Borrowed and stolen

I want to hear again how you have lost it all

How you know now it was not to be

I want to see you smile again

The drunken eyes and the wide mouth

I want to hear you say it again

That it is all gone

And then you say it was all a mistake

I want to see you, the loss in your eyes

How you killed a part of me

I am done hearing your lies

I remember the windy sunday

That sealed my fate
Walking hand in hand
On empty streets

I want to hear what you have to say about me

Now that I have moved on

Miles and worlds apart

I want to know how you are living without me

But I can now say goodbye

And my heart and eyes agree

It doesn't make any difference anymore
It doesn't mean a thing no more

Thank you.

Come saturday and I will hit the big three.
Thirty they say is the new twenty. I doubt it. But then again, age is all in the mind or is it?
I know that I am aging in more ways than I can imagine everyday and yet in my head, I still feel no older or wiser than the girl I was as I stepped out of school years ago, ready to embrace the chaos of Life as a grown up and feeling very mature and brave. I still am a little girl at heart. Excited and full of life. The smart one that I was, I had my life planned out and then life happened and I am still aeons away from all that I intended to do with my life. But I have been blessed. And I hope to one day soon be all that I want to be and go see all the places I want to see with the people I want to be with.
I have so much to be grateful for and I am thankful.
For Life. Good health. The best of siblings and parents. The world I was born into though sometimes I whine and wish I was born on the other side of the world. The experiences I have had. The travel, the sights, the friends and relationships. Love and pain. Losing friends and family. Witnessing birth and celebrating new beginnings. The broken hearts and the blissful memories. The big crushes and the sweetest of affection. Disappointments and wonderful surprises. Life keeps surprising me and God, He has always reminded me that He loves me and cares for me. He provides for me all the time.
I am exceptionally lucky and blessed and I am eternally grateful. To my friends, my girls, my family and all the dear people who make my life worth living and waking up to everyday. My prayer is that God will bless you all and keep you in my life to bless me for the many years ahead. To share life and it's joys, to be a comfort and to be comforted. To be happy and to give happiness. This is my prayer. God bless you all.
And I wish for a life well lived and to be a blessing to all I come in contact with.
To look back on my journey in another three decades and still feel the same way about my life.
To continue living my dreams and look forward to life everyday.
With love and laughter and friends.
God bless us all.

Hair and gone? The long and short of it.

What is it about unwanted hair that grabs our attention or rather raises our brows? This fascination or morbid hate relationship with hair is common and prevalent across cultures and social strata. Besides the obvious aesthetical significance and evolutionary reasons behind having hair on the top of our heads and other significant areas of the body, why are we so concerned about considering some hair as 'unwanted' and how did we decide that it is unwanted or ugly or gross? 

Much business has been generated by the quest for hairlessness and further consolidating hatred of “un-wanted” hair while many made a fortune out of it.  Are we paying the price of capitalism and westernization? Is it a fad? Or is it an evolutionary tool for determining the survival of the fittest? Our ancestors didn’t seem to have a problem with abundance of hair if Darwin is to be believed. It might have just saved us from joining the dinosaurs (this conclusion drawn after watching a BBC documentary on facial/body hair and it’s evolutionary significance and role in mate selection over time: Findings suggest hair kept the body cool and protected the sensitive body parts from insects and forces of nature?)

But more recent surveys reveal that with the increased exposure to the ‘www’ and easy access to images of unclothed (plastic and hairless?) beauties; hairy women don’t quite cut it anymore. I would like to suspect that it is another concept invented by man to subdue women yet again as, different rules apply to the different genders or are we womenfolk that susceptible to inception? Bald is certainly beautiful when it comes to women’s body parts (supposedly). 
Most of my male friends certainly don’t go for the hairy look in their women, further strengthening the notion that no hair is good except for those on our head. That kind of hair is always described at length in poems, songs, and romanticized in the movies; and plays a huge role in fueling the romance, imagination and fantasies of men and women throughout history. A glorious mane is always scoring brownies points everywhere. But ever heard of anyone writing odes to facial or body hair? I guess not. I was bemused to see a newspaper clip of Lady Gaga showing off green armpit hair. I thought well, only Gaga could get away with something like that. And my next thought was, what the hell is wrong with having unshorn armpits?

My personal tale of woe is that I am the hairiest among my family of absolutely hairless siblings and kin but lacking in the hair on my head. The beauty gods seem to have played a joke on me by sprinkling fuzzy on my arms and legs but not enough on my head  and I am the butt of jokes among my hairless siblings. They call me ‘Gori’ as in ‘Gorilla’  Well, I do have thick skin. 
And Uh, I certainly am lucky to have very little unwanted hair compared to my less fortunate or rather more generously 'haired' sisters around the world but it does irritate me that I have to shave/wax when I have that special date and planning to wear a short dress; and I totally empathize with the poor ladies who have to go through routine torturous waxing sessions in the name of acceptable standards of beauty not to mention the financial aspect of shelling out 500-1000 bucks every week. No! I am not going to talk about electrolysis and laser. They are for the financially blessed (though one can see that a spurt of pocket friendly ventures coming to town to help you get rid of “the disgraceful hair” as if they are doing you a huge favor. Thank you very much!)

Coming back to my tale of woe, how is it that we have become conscious of sporting the deadly fuzz in our armpits and arms and legs? Every time I am wearing something sleeveless, I have this paranoia attack that I might be showing more than my beautiful arms and putting on a display of my less attractive fuzz which might have miraculously grown overnight just to torment me. So a razor swipe is necessitated. 
Some days, I have this fantasy of letting them grow out but I haven’t been brave enough to let them actually do so. I chicken out at the last minute and terminate their existence, if only temporarily. I can’t believe I am so shallow but hey! I am a social member and I need to conform sometime or the other especially since having unsightly fuzz in your armpits is considered unhygienic (actually only for women, I guess for guys it is a sign of virility) and I have come to believe, unattractive. I can’t imagine why we have them and what purpose they serve if not to complicate our feminine lives. Cosmic joke again or a man-made burden?????

Really?

So here I am toeing the line and admiring my fuzz free arms and legs! They do look much nicer without the fuzz or is it social conditioning that makes me think so? Or maybe I am just vain. Well! I am a confused person now on matters of hair. As for hair where the sun doesn’t shine, I guess it is a matter of personal preference but there too, I would assume less is always more and so we continue to go through the regular hair removal rituals. And honestly, perhaps not to conform to society’s diktats this time but just so t experience being like a baby again and au natural, if you please. Let’s just say, sometimes one has to conform for the greater good of society and if shaving gives me an edge to survival or closer to being civilized, then do I have a choice? 

They now have Brazilians for women and "Bro-zilians" for the men I hear. Any takers?

Content copyright © Tetseo Sisters 2011- 2012. All rights reserved. Do not use any images/content without  permission. All photographs by Tetseos except where indicated.

Angst.

Circa June 2001. A young girl barely out of her teens landed in Delhi.

Heart of India. Mecca of quality education. With stars in her eyes and dreams of carving out her place in the big city of Dilli, she started on a journey of discovery, battled with the odds and came out somewhat unscathed if a bit disillusioned, by the stark realities of life and confused as to the purpose of her life. But the experience was interesting and she learned much, mostly questioned about her identity and left surprised by the inability to melt into the colorful tapestry of varied cultures that Delhi is. Because she stood out in the crowd. Not that she did not try. She just happened to be a Northeasterner……or to the Delhiite a 'Chinki!' 

That was me. 

Seven years in Delhi and now I consider myself a true blue Delhiite.  I crib about all things Dilli and yet take offence when people talk-thrash Delhi. I often boast about all that Dilli has to offer and advertise Delhi to family and friends in other cities. But then living in Delhi for the last seven years has made me so aware of my real identity. Never have I been singularly made aware of my alienness or difference.

I often discuss this phenomenon with fellow Northeasterners and we all seem to agree that this is true. Oh yes! I do have many lovely non-NE friends who do not make me feel like I am so different and empathize with me when I recount the harrowing experiences I have had. Some celebrate and enjoy my different-ness and some say we are all the same when you come down to it. They usually say by way of comforting me that these things happen because not many people are educated enough to mind their own business or something like that.

Most frequently asked question.
Where from ma’am? Darjeeling? No. Northeast. Oh I know Manipur nice place (Aha! How many times have you visited? Comes to my mind but I keep a straight face and mouth shut) I say Nagaland. Blank stares or oh Assam ke paas? Maobadi bahut hai vaha!  (Lots of terrorists out there) I just pass on and they will mumble, “hindi nahin aati hoonge unko toh…..” (Guess she doesn't know hindi) I smile to myself.

Now the Northeast is many states besides Assam and Manipur and hello! Darjeeling is not one of the Northeast States. And I don’t know of any 'maobadis' in the northeast. I know what they mean when they say that though. And most times I have to stop myself from giving them a lesson in geography there and then. Of course! I am not an expert in geography but I don’t blindly assume (and there is always google). I have had my share of embarrassing moments due to my limited knowledge but I am sure I have not made anyone feel like an alien.

Once I was interviewed by a correspondent for a popular national daily. She wanted me to recount instances of feeling discriminated or treated differently. I told her about some typical things which happen to us girls from the NE and she refused to believe me.  Well I said, “ If you don’t believe the typical then how will you ever fathom the peculiar stuff which happen sometimes because you look different?” Our conversation never made it to print.

Ok. In delhi most girls get stared at, pinched, eve teased and face the odd stalking. But  we, NE girls often face a great deal of unwanted male attention because firstly, assumptions about our so called friendliness,  obvious difference in appearance and sometimes attire, and because, we usually shrug it off unless it is too much to take. Obviously we’ve got more important things to attend to. But I tell you this. I have walked around Delhi in nice salwar kameez suits and covered from head to toe but hey! I did not get less stares or comments. So there! Down with the “what you wear is what you attract” theory!

I don’t want to feel and project myself as a victim but one cannot help feeling so when you are reminded of your “different-ness” day in and out. On the bus, auto, at the grocers, markets, malls. Almost everywhere. Most days I say to myself, “Grin and bear it!” and yes. We get used to it and have lived with it. But there lies the irony. Why should I have to live with it?

Delhi is as much my city as anyone's who lives here. Now why do I have to carry an invisible but obvious tag and have to get used to certain treatments, due to my being first, a female and secondly, a female from the NE? Isn’t India a country with cultural diversity as its USP? Why is there so much prejudice, labelling and discrimination?

One thing I can assure you of and that is, if you ever set foot in any part of the Northeast, you will only get to feel like an important guest. Oh yes. We have our prejudices and stereotypes. Guilty! But no one, I repeat, “No one” will call you names to your face (Behind your back perhaps!) unless you do something hideous.

February 2010. Now my stint with Delhi is over and I am moving on, taking with me memories, some sweet and some bitter, armed with sharpened wits and university degrees. I know I will miss Delhi. And I hope it gets rid of the not-so-pleasant parts soon. And maybe I’ll be greeted with newer and more pleasant nicknames next time I visit. And I dream of the day when I will be stared at because I am a beautiful creature, worth a second look, and not because I have the features of a Northeastern girl! (Which I am proud of, by the way!)