Weakness

I am having a little trouble with my English, so I want some people to help me out. This word, weakness. What does it mean? Is it just an opposite of strength? If so, what is strength?
Is beating up someone strength? If a person reacts angrily to every minor offence, is that a show of strength? Is creating a scene in public, strength?
Laughing at the face of minor botherations, just because you have seen worse, does that define weakness?
No, this is not a tirade against any particular person. These are just a few questions which arose in my mind after today. And yes, I am still looking for an explanation.

ATLEAST IT WAS FUNNY!

Guess Who?

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BULL!

I am twenty years old, and in my twenty years of life, this is what I have seen:-

December 1992-January 1993: Riots all over the country because of Babri Masjid.

12th March, 1993: Blasts in Bombay

24th December, 1999: Hijacking of IC-814

May and July 1999: Kargil War

September 11, 2001: Planes crashing into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon
Begining of the American war on Terror

September 27, 2008 - Bomb blasts in Delhi flower market

September 13, 2008 - Bomb blasts in Delhi markets

July 26, 2008 - Serial bomb blasts in Ahmedabad…

March 7, 2006 - Terrorist attacks in Varanasi

July 25, 2008 - Bomb blasts in Bangalore

May 13, 2008 - Bomb blasts in Jaipur

August 25, 2007 - Blasts in Hyderabad

May 18, 2007 - Bombing at Mecca Masjid, Hyderabad

September 8, 2006 - Bomb blasts in Malegaon, Maharashtra.

July 11, 2006 - series of 7 train bombing during the evening rush hour near Mumbai.

2002: Riots in Gujarat

November 27, 2008: Attacks in Bombay

There are countless more which have not made this list, only because I cant remember them.But they happened. Twenty years, innumerable murders. Because that is what they are. Not 'random acts of terror', not 'jihad', but plain ole murder. And I realised this today, after staying fixed to the NEWS all day, that I've actually got used to the fact that every morning when I wake up and read the paper, there will be news of a Blast some where, or a war somewhere else. People dying doesn't shock me any more, simply because that is what i grew up with. What I feel right now is not fear, or terror or sympathy, I feel anger. I am angry at the fact that 20 people weilding guns can hold a country of 1.1 billion to ransom. I am angry at the fact that the cops are underprepared to deal with a crisis. I am angry at the fact that politicians are now demanding police reforms. I am angry at the country that I have inherited, at it's tendency to live from crisis to crisis. I am just plain angry.
My TV is switched off. I'll not turn it on at night. I, quite frankly, have had enough. I'll have dinner, say a prayer for the victims and go to sleep. I hope to find peace there.

EXAM BLUES

Exams are on. I look at my books and wonder what on earth did I do to deserve this. Every day I wake up feeling like I have just tripped over my neighbor’s dog and fallen in the garbage vat. All of a sudden, past misdemeanors have caught up with me, it seems as if all the classes that I missed have pounced on me with vengeance.

Meanwhile, in another part of town…

The weather is pleasant, altering between hot and cold, perfect for going out and staying out. Movies run to packed houses. There are TWO Daniel Craig movies currently in cinemas…a rarity for Calcutta. There are rock concerts every alternate week end, Jethrotull is coming to town, along with Anoushka Shankar, the Kolkata Film Festival will start tomorrow and BOTH Star Movies and HBO have an amazing line up of movies.

Am I supposed to sing ‘Joy To The World”?

I’m listening to “Lemon Tree” by Fool’s garden. I can’t make any sense of the lyrics but I ADORE this song. It is a very bouncy, happy song…it reminds me of all the fairs I went to as a kid, all the cotton candy I got in my hair. I went to a fair this year too, but didn’t get any cotton candy. Damn. But what I did get, was one of those things you can blow bubbles out of. A thin looped wire covered by a plastic tube, which you dip into this canister filled with soapy liquid and then blow into. Of course it is toxic. The guy I bought it from had weird boils on his face. The wire was a little rusted. But, as is typical of me, disrespecting all notions of hygiene, I kept it for TWO whole weeks. I blew bubbles all over my house. The best part was when I blew them under the fan, they zoomed crazily all over the room showing off their psychedelic colors. Beats any PC game any day. I might have contracted all sorts of hitherto unknown diseases from them. But, the thing is, the last time I played with bubbles was a time I don’t even remember. I always knew I liked them, but I could never remember a time when I had them. So my bubbles this year, were a pilgrimage of sorts to my younger six year old self. It was a vacation to check on the six year old Subha. And it is something I want to do every year from now on. But maybe not with bubbles though. Next year, I’ll try cotton candy.  

 

This is my third(!) attempt at blogging…my first blog died an inglorious death because I…well…forgot my username and my password, my second one shared a similar fate. I create blogs and then post religiously for some time and then my perpetual inertia takes over and I forget. The story of my life.
This one is a conscious effort to redeem myself. It actually stemmed from a conversation I had last night with a girl called Paroma, the bluntest, most bizarrest friend I have. We were talking about then and now, and she happened to mention that I have become more laidback about things, that the JU “ladh”(I honestly cant define this word in English, try a combination of inertia and lethargy and you’d still be way off the mark) is getting to me. Now, I generally don’t mind the “ladh”, but last night, I decided to take it on by it’s (non-existing) horns. Hence this.