Because Men will be Men

Because Men will be Men..

“Bs karr yar,  kitna ghurega (enough dude, how long will you stare)”, I asked my friend who had made an angle of almost 180 degrees hinging his neck from one side to other. Being a girl, I had to accept, that be it my own friend or just any stranger plus be it male, he is bound to gawk the she-species. This fact, I anticipate, every human, seems to accept. Some take it as stalking, while some enjoy the attention. Hearing from our own brothers, we were bestowed with the knowledge, that guys notice people or females (to be more precise), far more properly. I had a doubt, and thus came up with a question to my own cousin.

          

   “When is it that you find that a girl is hot? When she is coming or when she is going?”

The question made him turn pink as I gave him an innocent yet sarcastic gaze. Never mind that question dear all, curiosity is good as they say. And hey after all that you must be wondering I got my answer or not.

Negative.

 But instead I once found one of my he-friends saying,

“Yar piche se hot lagti hai aage se nai (she looks hot from behind not from front).”  I had no thoughts left after this, but was just in contemplation what he might have thought before saying so.

There were times when I heard about guys in our college ranking the girls from 1-to- 10 or more like who is hotter, on a self made webpage. When I questioned one among them, the reply came like hey I gave you more points than her, be happy!  Sad that we had a phone conversation, else my heels would have been over his head, literally.

 Surprisingly you get apps for that now on your smart-phones. And even more surprising 

was when I came to know that Mark Zuckerberg made a threshold to his discovery with the same idea. I was moved!

And thus we, I and my female-friend made a counter move. Sitting at the most happening place in our college, we would rank guys.

       Eager to know what we looked at while ranking?  Nothing much, except the way they walked, the way they talked, what color shirt they wore, what footwear they wore, their nails, especially toe nails, their hairstyle, their accessories, their way of sitting, standing, staring others and many more things. We would both laugh, pass comments, categorize them, pester them, yes we did so and only we know how much fun it was when they gave back an annoying look.

So if gaping is a self right, why should boys have all the fun. If you stalk others, you should be ready to get stalked by others.

  ..“ Beta! Mann mei laddoo foota?” .. 

Fact 1: Which guy on earth wouldn’t want a girl to stalk him?!   Universal truth!

Fact 2: Guys will be guys, no matter what age they are.

How many eyes could you fork out even if it was legally allowed? No living-man would be left with a vision, if that was righteous. Blame it on the testosterone levels or call it a natural complexity, but you got to accept the fact.

So there came a time in times when,

Me: “Yar I will give Him 8.5.”

My he-friend:”Why? He is good, deserves better.”

Me:” Nah, He is slouching while walking and look at His jeans, as if dying to fall down!” , “Never mind, look! I will give Her 7.5. You tell.”

My friend: “Ruk ja, pehle jaane to de use, tb btata hu( wait , let her keep going, then I ll tell.”

      Men will be Men..

DEAR MOM

These words are mere alphabets of a language if they don’t ever mention you as an element of my thoughts. I have always been a part of you, deep down to the flesh and bones. Even the blood that flows in my veins were never my own but inherited from you. The heart that resides in this alive body had begun its first beat within your walls of affection and care. You gave me home to dwell, you gave me life to live, you gave me breaths to survive and asked for nothing in return.

You are magic and I marvel at your soul of which I am a puny part. I triumph in the joy of being like you, partially if not completely. I am nothing but your shadow. I take you along with me, wherever I go.

Keep me close to your heart whose rhythm is music to my life. Your warmth is the peace to my rippled soul. Your arms are condolences to my scars.

I pray, wish and hope selflessly and desperately for your well being and happiness. It is what matters and nothing else will, so strongly and so sincerely to me because I had begun from you and my world ends at you. Outside the covers of your veil is a combination of two words- fake and fraud. You are the only truth and only you are real. Rest is translucent, blurred and surreal. Purity is you second name

DEAR MOM.

Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face