Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Autobiography...in bits and pieces

Having read this ...

A lot of music lovers here (where doesn't matter) have been entertained by one talented singer called Adnan Sami. I have liked his songs once in a while too...But there is some thing about him that bothers me. His music videos.


Quite a few number of his video features him and some of the most gorgeous bollywood actresses in an romantic atmostphere singing and dancing. Adnan is exceptionally overweight. And the actresses are obviously have figures. Now this fact, about our entertainment industry, that beauty of a woman is directly co related to her vital statistics and it just doesn't matter how good is the body of her male counterpart is, disturbs me. Just try to recall have you ever seen a fat female been paired with a worked out male. Why can't these video directors get real..if you gotta feature amisha patel why not put Hrithik against her...why Adnan...or better still feature me next to Adnan

Women is to beauty and men is to money. Why do we have this concept. I am a survey person. Research and survey is my hobby and I got it from my own tryst with this thing men say "Beauty is not the main thing". Oh c'mon, it so is. I used to believe it earlier and then I was disillusioned. Once, and then, and then again and again. Finally I got tired
...

{Flash Back}

I have always known I am one of the ugliest people born. At least I, haven’t seen a face, uglier than mine. Am not doing self pity. Am just aware of the truth. A fact is a fact. And ya, there have been times when I have been a little upset about this fact but that’s not self pity. I am proud of myself in quite many ways and I know I am an wonderful person.

Right from that age when we start having petty crushes on the opposite sex I knew my life is not gonna be the same as every other girl. In those days when I was in my teens we didn’t have this parallel universe called internet. At that time, Co-ed Schools, Tuition classes, morning/evening walks in the neighborhood park, social gatherings, common parties, neighborhood activities, religious get-togethers these were the places where teen age kids used to meet and express their interest in each other. Exchange of sweet gestures, a glance or two or may be a flower. A pink letter written in innocent hand writing saying “I see you on your way to school everyday, can we be friends?” Come Valentine’s day, Rose day, Friendship day and I used to see these cute girls hiding flowers, stuff toys, greeting cards in their school bag. I used to see their joyful, victorious smile. “I am one rose up you” they used to smug. None of these ever happened to me. Presumably for the simple reason that from a distance just by looking at me no one was interested. Of course if one comes close to me gets to know me I am one of the most fascinating person. But then in teens who tries to get to know. I knew this and I had accepted the way things were. I was never too lonely to bother about it anyway.

I studied in a Girls school and a Girls college so all through the best days of my life I only had female friends. By the way, to all parents, it isn’t a very advisable thing for any kid. Anyway so we used to have a big group of friends. All cool n bindaas girls and I used to be the leader of the pack. Was everybody’s Sanju Boss. But before even Sanju Boss had her day I used to be a shy introvert kid hugely suffering from inferiority complex. Eventually I realized I wasn’t meant to catch attention easily, knew I had to be different to get that. And there started a never-ending eccentricity of being off track. I started breaking out of the usual patterns. 9th Standard onwards was born Sanju Boss, hated by the good students (the winners), liked by the mediocre students (the runner ups) and worshiped by the back benchers (the loosers) I was and am the Leper Messiah.

To be more precise there happened an incident to trigger this change, some thing happened, something that changed my life, for good.

I had liked this guy for some couple of years. A neighborhood guy I used to always watch him play cricket in the colony ground. For couple of years I only liked him and then I felt this urge of being with him. I am comfortable doing this. I can go on liking someone without ever telling him. There is this man, the most good looking guy I have ever seen, I have been admiring him, his good looks, his mannerisms, his style his everything for almost 16 years now and he doesn’t have a clue. He is Nitai…would talk about him some other day.

So I liked this guy and have now decided to tell him that. I have always played an agony aunt to all my friends. Have helped them write love letters, doing the ground work by giving the guy a call and talk, you know we didn’t have sms and chat those days. Of course I didn’t get any kind of help from them when it was my turn, which is understandable, if they knew how to help they would have helped themselves. So what I did is write a letter to this guy, Jaspal, in the best of my handwriting, actually put it in a pink envelop and post it to his friend, Ashwini’s address. The letter carried my feelings for Jaspal, said, “I like you and would want to be with you. Can you please meet me on so and so date, outside my school, after my school is over?” But it didn’t reveal my identity. For that he had to meet me. I can still feel the mental unrest that I was going through while I was writing, affixing the stamp, dropping it in the letter box. That evening, standing in my balcony, I saw him reading the letter and his friends circling around him, every heartbeat was like the beating of drums…every moment was passed in a strange sensation.

Finally, the day came, 7th of Jan. He and Ashwini was there in front of the main gate of my school. Since morning that day I had written another letter to him to be handed over when we meet in person. Can’t remember what all did this letter contain, the main point was “I am ready for a rejection and this is what I have to say to you while you reject…” and I remember it was something very emotional, had poured my heart out on paper.

Feets trembling, butterflies in stomach, throat drying up, voice weakening body still some how managed to walk up to him, extending my hands for a shake and with a wide smile on my face I spoke in a shivering voice “hi it was me who wrote that letter calling you here”. He didn’t shook hands. He gave me a look of disgust. My hands were still extended and the smile still there…I said, “can we be friends?” He didn’t say anything but shook his head in negation. I pulled my hands back tried to hold on to the smile, which was about to vanish. I held out the letter I had written, he wasn’t ready to take it. Ashwini took the letter and I just ran away from there and got into my school bus. I don’t know if rejection feels the same way to all…I was shattered. For almost a month my life was in ruins. I wanted to hide my face from him and everybody else who is related to him. It felt like I was raped. Humiliation. I never wanted to stay in that locality anymore. I started walking with my heads down. I used to cover my face as much as I could with my muffler when he was around. I lost appetite, couldn’t concentrate on my studies, all I could do was feel ashamed of myself, hate myself, curse myself for making a self mockery in front of him and his friends. Gradually I realize he has been decent enough to not make it public, and if at all he made it public may be his friends were decent enough to not give me that look, “oh she is the girl”.

A month later when I started getting back into normal routine, I wrote an entry in my diary. “I would never ever do it again. I would try to be a daughter my dad would be proud of. No more of this non-sense… I would never ever think of this stupid romance thing.” Incidentally dad read that entry and said, “I am glad you didn’t even give me an opportunity to scold ya”.

Everything changed after that. For years altogether I never had another crush. I killed the shy girl in me. Girls aren’t supposed to have crushes and fall for guys. It’s them who are supposed to fall for us… “Fall, keep falling, go deep down as deep as you can, never rise up again, I don’t give a damn, got no time for ya, you ain’t the only one falling for me and certainly you don’t deserve me.”

But I couldn’t keep my promise. Fell for another guy…

{Fash Back Ends}

I have now picked up this habit of surveying how many more men invariably say it and they invariably don't follow it. Like I said, research and survey is like my hobby

My Survey tool - Yahoo Messenger, Email, telephone, cell phone, sms, my Blogs, internet portals...etc.. Some of my Case Studies coming up. More tryst with the men kind also coming up.

10 comments:

Shubham said...

well.. most people have crushes like these during their teen age years.. but rarely does anyone have the guts to speak openly about them.. :)

pradster13 said...

hy sanj dont mind but i guess they use those chicks to spice up the video coz people will puke if only adnan was in it...i mean who wud watch them?

Slice Of Life said...

looks lke a valentine post
but i agree with what u have said abt adnan sami and his pretty co stars in his video
uma

pradster13 said...

hey sanj loong time no updates??

ass2006 said...

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harsha said...

Well....found ur thoughts verry interesting! donno, if wat u were writin was a true or not, but certainly very very gud!!

Anonymous said...

was that a short story....or what....anyways ur story if its true is the fairy tale of 'The Ugky Duckling'....

so cheers 2 life !!!!!!

Sanjukta said...

Every word on this post is true...Most people having trouble believing that..it's not for no reason that I say I always say I gotta write my biography someday...the whole life has been so unbelievably fascinating, so unique, so worth mentionable...And everything would make such a wonderful read

Hiren said...

When one is a student, physical appearance and similar other qualities take precedence. As one goes through life and faces a variety of problems and also see how people respond to work, one is able to appreicate the beauty of the statement " Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder"

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