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He smiles, I cry.
He's brave, I’m shy.
He loves, I’m alone.
He’s amazing, I’m unknown.
He’s beautiful, I’m a mess.
He’s happy, I’m depressed.
He’s a fake, I am real.
My mask is perfect,
My perfect seal.

Happy New Year

Finally, we arrived. With sore behinds, with drained bodies, with a tired head; finally, we arrived!

We had experienced the true wrath of Bangalore traffic that night. With a rash decision to travel to Coorg for a holiday during new year; taken at 2 AM, we had a story to tell and a lesson to learn.

Within constant calls on all our phone numbers by the bike rental guy for the delay, and the guy who booked our new year party, we were cruising through the last 30 km of the way back at barely 10 km an hour!

After paying the late fine and hearing out the long-awaited whining of the rental guy, we moved to the next thing in our priority list: we had to take a leak. It would seem funny to people in India to comprehend the fact that two guys at night can struggle to find a place to pee for the next half an hour. We both shared the discomfort of getting it off anywhere we liked like 90 percent Indian men: thus, the struggle. After failing to locate a public restroom within walking distance, which should not come off as such a surprise, we finally decided to join the aforementioned 90 percent, failing to find a viable choice. With a few Kannada scolding from an annoyed slum dweller for pissing on ‘his property’, we were fine to go.

With 3 percent battery and a lot of luggage, we somehow booked an Uber. We did two mistakes that moment that we will regret later. The Uber arrived and we were on the way for the pre-paid party we were already late to. Not so long after that, mistake no. one hit us: we had left one of our luggage which contained around rupees 5k worth of my stuff back at the pissing place. You could say, it was the most expensive pee I had taken in my life. Considering the uncertainty of finding it back had we gone back coupled with the looming thought of losing our party money too, we decided to save at least the new year enjoyment. With just a quarter of our journey left to go, mistake no. two hit us: Uber pool.

To save a hundred bucks, we had decided to pool expecting no one to join us at this hour, but we were not the only ones with the same thought. The driver was new but like all the Uber drivers at late night, he wanted an additional fake booking to his home to gain an extra ride as well as get back home. We obliged. Aman tried to book a pool with the pick-up point just ahead of the cab but instead the driver got a real pool request from a lady and then chaos unfurled.

The road had many lanes and we were taking the wrong ones each time. As educated as we were, neither we nor the lady whom we were picking up could guide us to that single point in space: the pickup point. On top of that, suggesting our Uber driver to ask Auto-Rickshaw drivers for directions was not one of our brightest moments. After taking a brute force approach, we reached the destination only to find no-one waiting for us there or so we thought.

After our fellow rider, avoiding the driver’s calls, we noticed a girl coming out of a lane and returning multiple times. After all the efforts, we took to arrive there, the driver was not going to give up. In the end, the lady came out and behind her was another lady, they had booked the pool for two, but none was ready to be the one seated at the back seat with two random dudes who were not in their best appearances or manners. After lots of negotiation, they decided to share the front seat together: perks of being slim. The same story continued, and following one more round of hit and trial, we finally reached at our destination which coincidentally was the destination of our fellow riders too. Wishing us “Happy New Year”, they both left.

Greeted us at the entrance, Aman’s cousin who worked at the hotel hosting the party and the guy who got us the entry at 50 percent discount to two bachelors on a new year eve. We moved in to the party, to a depleted food supply but still-going-strong alcohol supply. After getting fresh in the washroom, we loaded up on limited food brought in directly from the kitchen along with a beer each. After a small introduction, the cousin left for his Pondicherry Trip with a piece of info that there were 6-7 stag entries of girls. I didn’t quite know what to do with that info, but ironically Aman was quite happy about it despite being in a relationship. We entered the party room. Songs were being sung along with music and beats. Uncles and Aunties along with kids were in dance mode. I could see some young couples but nowhere I could see any single girls that we were promised. I gave up on that soon and headed on to the one thing I paid the money for: UNLIMITED BOOZE.

We both headed to the bar and got ourselves one more beer, then one more, one more still: we were done with the starters now. Mood to dance was kicking in but not the alcohol as much as I would want it to numb down all the frustrations of the day. Aman was fine with just beer but I insisted him on getting some vodka shots eluding him with the thought of getting back what we paid for! The night was still young, we were about to find out what else we were due to pay later.

4 shots down and ready for the New Year midnight bell,

we were dancing with people, we didn’t know well.

The countdown began and we jumped and took blurry pics of dance and thoughtlessness. I pulled in Aman with me for more shots. He was way in the trance that time than I was. I was confident of my alcohol retaining capacity bordering on the lines of over-confidence. We had multiple shots and went back to dance to the sense blinding music and lights.

I carried Aman and laid him down on chairs, after he started falling. I took more shots and kept on dancing, with guys, with girls, with any humanoid figure I laid my eyes upon. I danced to forget the mishaps, I danced to forget my overthinking, I danced to feel true freedom till my senses were lost.

I opened my eyes and saw darkness. Regurgitating on the spot. I saw some blurry figures saying some things, non-comprehensible. I didn’t bother to understand even. I was unable to control my body or my lips. I could feel being carried, then cruising on a wheel chair, in an elevator, then somewhere outside I sat. I tried to vomit out some of the alcohol, but was not able to as I had nothing to eat. I could see Aman lying on the other side of the corridor in the same position I left him in the party room. I could hear a security guard who was thankfully an Odia, but he would bring my demise soon.

He talked in my language and I tried to talk but could utter only unintelligible words but he used his head and took my phone and used my fingerprints to open it, did something. He assured me that he would ensure my reach to home that night. I was a bit relieved. But after gradually coming to a bit of senses, I saw my phone and horror struck: calls from my mother! I didn’t understand. I avoided the call and sat still, alcohol in my blood was replaced by liquid fear; fear of what, I didn’t know. Suddenly I received a call from a friend of mine, I picked up and gave it to the guard and he talked and gave it back to me. I was just repeating my house address out loud, for someone to book me an Uber. I heard the guard reassuring me from time to time with a few statements of disgusts sprinkled in between.

Jiten arrived at the place. Seeing a friendly face, I was relieved. He was moving to and fro and doing something, saying something. I was still uttering my house address. He booked a cab and was helping me inside when I pointed him to Aman who was lying still on the side. I then remembered, I had my house-key in my bag which was in the coat room. With no body balance whatsoever, I went inside and brought my bag. We were all set. All the way we vomited in the cab and like a time lapse, we arrived at my house. I could control my body somewhat at that time. Aman was still unconscious so he was carried in by the driver and Jiten. We both lied down on the bed of my roommate and passed out.

I woke up at morning 9:30 with some headache and stomach-ache. Charged my mobile phone and nervously waited for it to switch on. Cold sweat ran down my face: numerous calls from mother and Jiten, calls made to many other people. What had the guard done! I took a bath and assessed the situation.

I had to ask Jiten about the details.

I had to get back Aman’s bag which I had left in the coat room.

I had to put my clothes to clean.

I had to take something to get rid of the hangover.

I had to be ready to explain everything to my Mom – What should I tell her?  How much should I tell her? Should I tell her it was a one-time thing? Should I tell her my friends pressured me? How much does she know already? All these questions revolved my head along with the steam in the bathroom.

I came out from the bath and saw Aman getting his senses back and Jiten telling me about what he told mother and what she knows. The guard had indeed called my mother and told him that I was lying on the side of the road fully wasted and my friends had abandoned me! Apparently, my mother then informed Jiten and he had come to my rescue. Aman found out he was missing his phone and his sweatshirt- which was a gift from his girlfriend.

I started out on a gruesome journey to get the bag, inquire about the phone, take a little detour to the place I lost my luggage with a slimmer of hope of getting it back from some angel who may have kept it with noble intentions. This was shattered later after I learnt from the nearby shopkeepers that it was a goods drop and pickup point for small shop keepers. I was the angel all along and they had received my blessings instead. Aman had paid his share of blessings in the form of his phone and his girlfriend’s gift, which was probably a divine punishment from Cupid for that happiness over the 6-7 mysterious stag ladies in the party.

All the way I had called mother. We were talking on and off. She was sad. She had cried the night after her illusion of my puerile image had been broken down abruptly a night 2 AM. Till now ‘2 AM’ had been a jinx. She had cried all night and my little brother had comforted her and to prevent more chaos, had even insisted her to keep the news from my father. He was compensated well from me for pulling off that move. Making my mother cry was not a good feeling but neither was the constant urge to vomit all the way.

At the place of my lost luggage, I saw a chacha selling fruits. I went to him and ordered a bowl of pineapples. With each bite I was feeling better, stomach wise. But that was only one of the numerous problems at hand. What had I landed myself back into! I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop to that point when I was lost in mindless trance, the night before, detached to my senses; my senses bringing me floods of information of the world, of people, of responsibilities, of feelings, of needs, of greed, of desires, of prayers, of layers and layers of truth and lies of reality and illusions alike. The world has termed my kind – Escapists, cowards. World is not very kind to outliers. After my little toothpick started poking on the empty bottom of my thermocol container, I realized all my pineapple pieces were over. I paid chacha 30 rupees and went back to the world from where I came from but surely did not belong.

Comfort

Such a big mountain casting shadow on me.

I look upon thee.

A big steep climb I see.

How many have run away,

how many gave up on the way,

how many conquered you

whose names make you tremble.

Tell me o mountain in my head.

Do you see the same sparks in my eyes?

Do you think I can conquer your big pride of size?

Do heavens know

The answer to my questions

Or shall I shape my destiny alone

Like very few human versions

The first step for all is the hardest

But I have a different problem

The step that comes the next is my test.

Never wanted to strive to be the very best

Without that passion, is my life a waste?

But things need to change soon

Seeing my life now,

Makes me want to swoon!

makes me want to leave my comfort cocoon.

Right here, right here I am stuck.

Riding on the tides of my limited luck.

Escaping the idea

Running from it

The fear of failure has eaten me from inside.

Hollow I am, with just a wish pendulum

Dangling side to side

Each time it strikes my body edge

I have a momentary clarity of life

Ready to turn over a new page

But the screeching calls of my comfort cocoon rise

Calms down the good agitation

Like the flat line of a dead heart

I enjoy my false comfy prize

Cursing myself, I cry and slip back

So, good it feels: not the pit,

The journey of the descent.

How can I wake up to the Sun outside: well lit…?

I am stuck on my own will

In this warm black tar pit.

Dream On

I dream. 
I never stopped it. 

They grow more beautiful with each passing day.
Some days I dream of drifting through the still water,
some days I feel the warmth of my father's shoulder while sitting behind his bike and moving through the cold wintry winds to reach a morning tuition,
sometimes I hear the muezzin praying in the early morning in my dreams which I used to hear while I used to wake up before the light dawned upon earth to prep for exams,
I dream of things I could be,
I dream of things I could have been,
I dream of things I could have not been,
I dream of people,
I dream of Colors,
I dream of peace,.. they never stop...
When I wake up I dream that the dreams should never stop.....

NARUTO.. (Team 7 will be together again.......)

There she goes

She walks away

Where she goes.?

On her way...

Searching for someone

she wanted to stay

Does he care her

anyway..?

Countless nights

i have seen her cry

Hiding her grief

in a smiled disguise

But she never..

Opened her eyes..

To see me stand

by her side..

I made a promise

that i abide...

To bring him home

to her side..

Days and nights

how hard i try..

I made a promise 

that i abide...

Revenge is what

eats him inside..

Darkness is what

has been on his side..

Can he ever..

See the light..

Come back home ..

Your friends you'll find...

Waiting for you

with tears in eyes..

She's been crying

in a smiled disguise.

Can she ever see

through the tears in her eyes..

The grief i hide

deep  inside...

I too been waiting..

For her on my side..

Oh.. What am i thinking..

I must keep that aside..

I've made a promise..

That i should abide........!

Lost Love

When you walk on my shore

On naked feet

Under heartless sun

Its burning heat

Under moon that's gone

With its soothing rays

With a parching heat

One name it says

You look for brook

You look for creeks

You look for rivers

With no water in it

But an ocean of love

With water sweet

Silently comes

And wets your feet

Heals your wounds

Fades your scars

With your memories washed

Of pain and wars

But tell how far

Will it search how far

In the tar

Black tar of a mirage

That wasn't there

Why don't you care

For your heart there

Why don't you come

Under love's care

Such endless love

You can find nowhere

But you never allowed

The love to reach you

You never allowed

your heart for a rescue

But you went alone

To a mirage you see

You think its your destiny

Sweet water of

the ocean of love

Now salty turned

With tears of blood

But you never looked back

Never heard its cries

You walk along

By a river that's dried

You walk along and

When lost in the horizon

And there is no hope left

That you would come

The death of a lover

The death of a poet

The death was silent

Nobody saw it

The pain that he felt

Gave rise to the sun

His moon of passion

Now its gone

Just salt water left

In the cold ocean

Reminds the world

Of another love . . . .

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Another love that's gone. . . . . . .

Open Eyed Sleep

Lying On the floor

In an open eyed sleep

With a chest dug deep

With a heart that weeps

Of spilled out blood

With a memory heap

Lost out in flood

With an all time trip

To the outside world

Its cold

precious like gold

But cant be sold

Difficult to hold

Its cold

But cant let out of it

It has to be taken

Its a compulsory gift

With a heart thats broken

With a soul thats killed

There's nowhere to go

When your fate is sealed

It was a life with wounds

that cant be healed

It was A life with a heart

that cries

and forgets to beat

Such Dark pain...but

no one can cheat

There can be no escape

From this black hell heat

then Life becomes

a one way street

Leading to the end

Which holds the Cure

of all known pain

Which knows no gain

Which calls no name..

Where darkness reigns

Marking the end

of life's game.....

In the end

It all comes to this

That

Lying on the floor in an open eyed sleep

Lying forever in an open eyed sleep....

Journey

In the world of solitude

I am never ever understood.

The meaning of life

I have never ever understood

Why am i here

The reason's not clear

Like a hazy fog

Like a broken log

Like memories

of a silent song

Thats coming along

Thats passing along

Through the dark

Darkness that has filled my heart

From the start

Start of a new

Unknown life

with knowledge of a few unknown strides

I had started my walk

On the path

Thats lain by them

I just silently watched

Like the fate of a puppet in another hand

Like a pet of a master tied with bands

My life before me Stands

Enough of moving in other's hands

I'm tired of doing what others want

I now Cut the strings that're tying me

I now shut the mouths that are lying me

Look at them they are crying at me

To stop my track..

But i have started my journey

I will not look back

Till i reach my goal

I wont look back..

Death of a poet

The process is a flow

The reason unknown

Got to go low

To see how its done

The helpless screams

The nightmare dreams

To feel how it feels

To kill someone

To make him bleed

The innocent pleads

Till blood runs dry

The killers arise

To claim their prize

Dont be in surprise

To see those murderous eyes

its pleasure to them

they could not bear him

those black hearted men

even heaven rains

to wash the remains

nothing left now

just an empty soul

the world so cold

has reached its goal

killed the man

who once lived a life

of misery and sacrifice

but still he lived

rhymed a few words

a gift he received

when he found a few hearts

for a minute or two

they used to understand him

with a pat or two

they used to leave him

behind

never a second thought

in their mind

never they would rewind

those few minutes

emotional kind

but those few minutes

was all he needed

but still in his soul

for more he pleaded

for someone

for some more time

who understands more

than just words rhyme

but alas

his hopes were too too high

his drops of tear never dried

cruel the world

attacks the weak

attacks so quick

few moments of pain

a hell of blood reign

suck out emotions

dry it to the last drop

kill they kill

till all his rhymes stop

satisfied they leave behind

someone of their own kind

and search for the next man

arouse their lust of destruction

again in their short life span

prowling silent

in the cold night

with the newborn man

of their own kind

who searches with them

to continue the kill

to continue the will

of the black heart

wish he could come back

but never he will

never he can

the cut's too deep

his death was ensured

HIS POEM WAS WEAK.

Freedom

Switch on the system

Leave your fear

Turn on the volume high and clear

Let go the music

Out too loud

For it to reach onto the clouds

Revive your senses

They are so dead

Break all the fences

Run out instead

Don't stop yourself

from running free

Just start your track

i say 1 2 3

Run run

Fun fun

Just leave your bed

Run run

Fun fun

Run till u r dead

Just blank your head

Let memories fade

Don't make yourself

as heavy as lead

Just throw your load and run instead

Run run

Fun fun

Just feel the sun

Whats u thinking

just carry on

Free your thoughts

Let them flow out

new ideas in mind

Just Let them sprout

Break out..........!

Of

the meaningless rules

Made by some fools

Tell them that

here nobody rules

But now wait

stop

Think again

Now we are out

its our game

We make the rules

And play in our name

Some get fame and

Some get shame

But this is not the end friends

We will never be alone

New generations will come

To do it again
.

and continue to run

to continue the run.......

Man vs Life

Man as it goes 

is the most clever of them all,

not physically strong

but conquering them all.

Man vs man always inevitable.

Man wages wars

for greed insatiable.

Man wins,

man loses,

man slaves,

man chooses.

What man wants,

nobody knows it.

Over his deep dark core,

man paints peace lore.

Peace acquired through war.

But that piece of peace is superficial.

The war within is whats real.

Truth vs lies,

good vs bad,

keeps man sane,

makes man mad.

That never ending war,

what life is.

Scars after scars what it gives.

Some scars heal,

some scars peel.

Some put a mask and go on with it,

some try to mask and fail at it,

while some sell masks and gain from it.

But mankind is not that weak.

Once in a while rises a man.

Who needs no mask,

who does what he can,

who does have a plan.

Shows light to darkened souls,

becomes hope to one and all.

To achieve a certain goal

 in his stipulated lifespan.

But his idea, what his legacy is

It lives on and waits to see.

To see the rise again.

To see the new day begin

and wage the war of man vs life

.

.

.

.

.

.

with hope for life to win.

The Lonely Girl

Life's unfair
Such a tricky affair
Here and there
Gives multiple dares
Made me aware
Of my many despairs

Sitting alone on a chair
Somewhere i stare
Just a glimpse i get
Of another soul
Similar to me..?
I felt my heart beat
stop for a minute...!
A second it was though
Time had stopped
as I nervously moved my feet
She looked back a bit
Beautiful she was
With her glass eyes
Covered with glasses
In open disguise
Her hair so straight
With brown stripes
Looked down mostly
When in my sight
People's noise surrounded us
A comfortable silence divided us
What can i do ? i thought
As i was collecting all my guts
To stand up and walk
Towards her
To say something or the other
Like in the movies they do
Start with a cheesy line or two
But in her eyes i saw
A sudden change
Searching she was
That was strange!!
It is a fake smile
Or was a fake sadness
Whatever it was
It ended my madness
My Legs stopped
Heart started
Eyes rolled
As a smile began to unfold
Glass eyes shattered
my glass dreams
I sat back
Calmed my inner screams
She was never alone
Of course not...!
A man walked to her
And she smiled and talked
I calmly got up
and paid my bill
Put a full stop to all the thrills
But i turned back
For a short stare
Met back with nothing
It was common ..not rare
Realizing again
As i left my chair

Life's unfair
Such a tricky affair
Here and there
Gives multiple dares
Made me aware
Of my many despairs

Man vs Machines

Creativity: what is it? 

The ability to produce something different, something fresh, like magic out of thin air. Poof! And thoughts converted to something: it materialized. People are the only ones capable of that: till now. 

If you think closely human’s creativity is often the result of his/her life experiences, beliefs and practices. There can’t be any output without certain inputs. Machines just don’t have that much inputs to be creative. Can they be creative if they had certain amount of data? Well thankfully we don’t have that answer yet.

When we compare ourselves to machines, we pride on creativity and emotions. We even accept imperfections to a certain degree to get the feel of a human rather than a machine. Do we really appreciate the quality of the product or do we empathize with the human creator? What if a machine was to judge the product. Well unless a pure machine (machine entirely created by other machines on their own volition, which would take input data on its own and would have its own principles and practices which it would decide by itself) is born/created, we can’t say, because we would be the ones to provide the judging logic and criteria to the machines.

Emotions, feelings, what are these, can these be defined, if these can be defined they can be designed. We still don’t understand emotions that well. We still don’t know why some people act the way they do in certain circumstances, while others react differently. Sometimes people would be selfish, sometimes they do selfless deeds without any expectations of returns, or do they expect, we can only speculate.

Emotions are used to bond with other humans. One human appreciates the beauty of emotions in the other human and they connect. All things can’t be said. Emotions are complex information compressed to simplicity and transmitted. Before the advent of language, emotions must be the primary mode of communication. With highly developed language structure, is it possible to overcome the need of emotions? What if we become self-sufficient with defined roles for everyone. The society will perform perfectly. Will emotions be obsolete in the future then? I believe our language is imperfect. What would happen if we develop a language so powerful that we don’t need emotions to convey information anymore.

Where would man evolve: to being more human or being more machine?

Where would machines evolve: to being more precise and more ‘machine’ or they would imitate humans?

Are we imperfect because we are still evolving or is there a reason for this imperfection?

The ultimate questions: Do we need imperfections anymore? I think the answer to this question can predict future a lot better.

What do you believe in?

Work

Wake up again
to the same sunrise.
A new day begins;
Ain't no surprise.
Go brush, shit, bathe.
Get ready for the day
Don't feel like it?
As if you got a say!
Walk, cab, bus
Any way you like
You can even crawl
You just have to be in time
For work
Till dark.

Work not yours: still work
Work not clear: still work
Losing whats dear: still work
Chased by fear: so work

People you see
People you hear
Will force your life
into unwanted steer.
Will still have to bear
Coz Deadline's near
and you don't wanna hear
From someone you fear
for it may cost you dear
although distractions lure
of intentions Impure
Gotta work
Till Dark

Work not yours: still work
Work not clear: still work
Losing whats dear: still work
Chased by fear: so work

Day's work over.. ?
Not Really!
Work Spillover?
Expectations bully.
Worked not hard enough:
I say to me truly.
When given another chance:
will dedicate fully
When roadblocks clear
Some efforts look silly.
But no one will observe
that carefully.
Only results matter to them
Naturally.
So, no choice
but to Work
Till Dark

Work not yours: still work
Work not clear: still work
Losing whats dear: still work
Chased by fear: so work

Indian Marriage

What do you expect from this article?

I will write about the customs and traditions of various Indian marriages?

Ironically I did exactly that. A 150 page report for my 10th grade English Project!

But in this case: Nope!

I am gonna bash some but that’s not all of it.

In earlier times, Indian society was divided on basis of caste, religion etc. People married within caste and religion, because it made sense, of course. Similar caste/religion people had similar practices, similar beliefs. It would be easier to live together without much difference and compromises. Indian families with all their experiences and wisdom used to look for the perfect partner for their children, which they knew would be better for them in long run. Ancient Indian youth accepted this procedure as normalcy and rolled with it. 

Well, this acceptance didn’t come all naturally. Society didn’t spare any strays. Severe punishments were inflicted on the ‘wrong doers’: the ones who brought 'shame' to the family. In some cases, they were punished by death too! People who used to abide by this ‘law’ set by the society, enjoyed this punishment of the strays. It was satisfying and rewarding to the way of life they chose: thus, inspiring newer generations to be under the law and never question it.

  

People are fickle...

They would never understand or even try to understand the true reasons behind the various rules and regulations set in society. They just blindly follow it because -

1. That’s what everyone does!
2. That’s normal, right?
3. If we don’t, we would be punished!

It’s much easier this way. The more people think and explore, the more they will be willing to experiment with the boundaries of the set rules: the only thing that the rule makers don’t want. It’s not that the rule-makers are real evil, they are just more intelligent than then the average Jack and they wanted to keep these Jacks and Janes under a structure which would be beneficial for these fickle souls in a way. But the problem arises when among them rises a person with specs above average.

All strays are not intelligent, but most intelligent ones are either strays or cowards. The cowards accept the rules and keep on going, but the others have the bravado to defy and stand tall against this huge force called 'society'.

With flowing time, the boundaries of caste and ‘gotra’ and religion started to fade into a blur. More and more people started questioning this ancient set rules, because of one simple reason: it didn’t make any sense in the modern society.

All Bramhins don’t go doing Puja now.

All Ksyatriyas don’t go fight wars.

All Vaishyas don’t do business.

All Shudras don’t clean shit.

Still the society with it's fickle humans would not dare question the obsolete rules. 

They are fine by rolling with it without questioning it. 

But halt!

How dare you not accept these rules that we do?

How dare you go against us?

How dare you try to enjoy freedom while we succumbed to society?

We will force you to be one of us lest you are in for suffering that would be ensured by us. 

Then arise the extremist groups who are the defenders of society and its rules. Everybody needs a life purpose and they got one. Now begins the relentless attack on the strays which can range from boycott, insult and all down to good old murder.

In a civilized society with educated parents, I still see no difference! The fear of society is deeply engraved inside the genes. I am sure even a new-born will cringe when you say ‘inter-caste’ or ‘inter-religion’. My logical educated parents just vaguely approved an honor killing! I didn’t know what to reply. I pitied them more than I was angry. They would suddenly turn off the logic part of their brain when it came to inter-caste or inter-religion discussion. They would dig up all the stories that had a failed marriage; bombard them on me in a hope to scare me off back into line. Futile.

I will explain, why many love marriages fail in India.

Try entering the mind of an average Indian lover. What are the things that go on inside that normal head when he/she is in love?

• Is he/she the right choice for me?
• Will he/she reciprocate the love back to me?

Wait, wait, wait!

This is going in the wrong direction. This goes on in every lover’s mind. What are the extra things that Indian lovers think?

• What caste/religion/gotra he/she belongs to?
• If he/she belongs to one different, or in case of gotra – same, will my parents allow the marriage?
• Should I abandon this relationship and go on and accept the society rules?
• What consequences am I gonna face for not going with my parents/society’s wishes?
• Shall I be able to handle it all?
• Would it be worth it?

Now tell me readers, with marriage and love having its own complications already, how well are they gonna phase out with some extra problems? And the problems are not a onetime deal. They would persist, the society will ensure that it will.

How many marriages would you think can survive all these and be successful? Hats off to the ones who do. But the rest pile up in the example list of the failures that is passed on to the next generation as a warning.

The war is on though. Not long now, 3 more generations later we may not see these practices except for some cults. Like the White supremacists or the Nazis with their obsolete ideologies faded into history which were once the raze during their times.

But wait a minute, did you notice something?

When we defy the inter-caste marriage because it didn’t make sense, we chose our own partner mostly from similar professions, because it makes sense of course, similar practices, similar knowledge, better understanding without much compromises. 

Sounds familiar?

Caste system morphed and we didn’t even notice.

The ancients were geniuses after all.