Tuesday, January 28, 2014

cancer and charity

My actions are so complicated sometimes, it boggles the mind. My mind.

Yesterday, on my way back home, I saw two people standing outside the metro station holding a banner and a box. Donation box. For cancer patients.

I gave a hundred rupees.

I will now openly say, this is the LEAST amount I have donated towards a cancer charity.


Ask me why. Actually, don't ask me why. Let me just tell you that these guys and their box reminded me of something very similar that occurred about 8 months ago.

I was exiting the metro station one evening 8 months ago when I saw 2 people with a banner and a box. Donation box for cancer patients.

That evening, I had dropped in a thousand rupees. Ten times more than what I dropped in yesterday.

But my life was so different 8 months ago.

8 months ago, this blog had nothing to do with cancer. Now, I have so much to say. So much to say and so much that I choose to leave unsaid.

Asking me to donate for cancer patients is like - I don't know what it is like, okay? There is nothing like it. You don't have to ask. I just do it anyway.

Maybe now a hundred rupees to me means what a thousand rupees meant to me then.

Expensive stuff.

Let me just tell you that knowing cancer in the way that I have come to know it over the past few months has left me battling with my finances.

Let me tell you that being borderline broke helps nothing.

Having emotions can be so expensive.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

little boy

Yesterday, I saw the little boy again at the chemotherapy day care centre. He was there again with his father, who sat facing him and didn't say a word.

I tried not to stare at them. I distracted myself with tea and a magazine. But tea and magazines are no match for a seven year old on chemotherapy. 

When I sneaked a glance in their direction again, I noticed that the little boy had disappeared for a bathroom break. His father remained seated in the chair, staring off into space.

Then I saw the little boy return. I saw him come up to his father's chair from behind. I saw him put his small arms around his father's shoulders. I saw him squeeze his father in a hug.


Little boy, you inspire me so much. You make me feel curious. You make me feel amazed. You make me feel happiness and sadness and hope and madness all at once. You make me want to walk up to you, you make me want to talk to you, you make me want to be your friend.

Little boy, you leave me tongue-tied.


Tuesday, January 07, 2014

metro foreplay

Young heterosexual couples in heat are fascinating to watch on metro rides. The perfect place to build sexual tension is the thin fine line between the ladies compartment and the rest of the train. Girl stands on ladies' side. Guy stands on the other side. They look into each others eyes. Their fingertips brush. They dare to bridge the distance between themselves by reaching out and holding hands.

They don't kiss, obviously, because kissing is against Indian Culture. 

Thankfully, now, we have a word for this phenomenon.

My frand calls it "Metro Foreplay"