Posted in Anonymous, Believe, Blog, Blogger, DiaryEntries, Emotions, First Date, FunnyPosts, India, Indian, Kolkata, Life, Lonely, Love, Mind, Moods, Promise, Romanticism, Uncategorized, Writers

First Date

DEAR DIARY,

So umm, we just Met…

For the FIRST TIME…

Today on 29th of November, 2017

Early morning (actually very very earliest morning 😐) at exactly 3:30am when even the Sun was snoring. 🌆

The plan was made in haste.
Mainly because of me though. Not his fault.
I know. I’m an annoying girlfriend. 🙄

But I just HAD to see him today. By hook or crook.
Otherwise I would’ve assassinated the driver of the cab he was travelling in. 😇

So we made the plan yesterday night, while talking and giggling and chuckling and umm…basically wasting our phone battery over nothing materialistically fruitful… But, people in love ya know?! 🙄😂

He was supposed to visit Vilnius, Lithuania, to attend an international social business competition called Creative Shock.
Apparently the IIT-Delhi (where he’s currently in 2nd year) team had ranked among the Top 10 Teams worldwide among some 100+ countries, and they were called over for the final level. 😃

So yea, he was basically supposed to catch a flight to Vilnius today at 7:45am…because from there, the next day at around 1pm he’ll be off to Lithuania.

And then there’s ME.

THE ANNOYING GIRLFRIEND. 😐

I practically spent half an hour last night trying to convince him how it’s an excellent idea if on the way to the airport he meets me first and from my house he goes there to catch the Lithuania flight.

Apparently he said yes to all of that.

I mean, he said YES. 😶

Holy coconut! 🌴

Mera hi baccha hai after all… 😇

So today, he left IIT-Delhi at around 12am.
Took a cab to the airport to drop off his fellow partners and from there he came over to my place. ✈

In between of course he and his sweet cab driver had to overcome life threatening hurdles like:

  1. Locating my goddamned apartment. 🙄
  2. Shivering in a tropical country’s late November winter. 🐏
  3. Starvation of the passenger (my boy) since he sat for an exam paper that exact morning and took approximately 7 hours to pack his bag and shave and text me in between, assuring me that he’ll be there on time. 😇
  4. Getting stopped and evil-checked by an honest hardworking and chubby Kolkata Traffic Police who scolded the cab driver for not carrying necessary Car Documents and not doing timely Pollution Check. 😏

Anyway, at around 3:30am he finally reached my Gali (Bhartiya equivalent of an Alley or Lane 😂) and I sneaked down to open the lockgate of the apartment to let him in.

To be very honest, it was fun! 😜
Really fun I mean!

I felt like a ghostly Dacoit who’s out there breaking into people’s houses on early winter mornings. 😎

And there he was…

My beautiful boyfriend, struggling and strutting along with a humongous half-empty suitcase, packet of uneaten food (if you’re hungry, why don’t you have it anyway? 🙁) and a excessively heavy rucksack.

He waved at me from a distance.

I died, then and there. 🤘

Resurrected…just like Jesus babe did.

And embraced my one true love… 💖 😇

And then ran up the apartment while he again struggled to pull up his suitcase. 😐

I’m sorry. I apologize for that part. I was an asshole.
But I wanted to carry one bag at least, he didn’t allow that. 😕 Huh!

Anyway and then we’re in my room.

And the next one hour we spent staring at each other, and then being shy and looking away and nervous-giggling and me continuously blabbering about unnecessary things and him getting confused and not even understanding half of my jokes and yet he’s laughing, just to make me happy and me being mesmerized with him, by his presence. 🙂

I just wanna say, I love him so much.
He’s such a beautiful and nice human. He makes me strive to be a better person.
And I am truly amazed at everything about him.

You know there are those moments when the situation is so overwhelmingly powerful and happy that you go speechless and in your mind you’re all like “Wow man. Oh my good lord. You’re so nice to me. I feel so good. I just can’t believe this. You’re the greatest Homo Sapien to have ever existed after Michael Jackson!!”?

Today’s First Date was that moment.

And we Kissed.

Yea we actually kissed!! 💟

Yoodaadoddledooo I’m on Cloud 69 right now!!!!! 😭

It was his first kiss! And it was ME!!
Eeeeeeppppppp 😍

It was so beautiful and so good and so adorable and sooooooo OURS! 😭

I LOVE HIM SO DAMN MUCH.

Alright I’ll stop ranting here. 😅

Ohh and I Gifted him for his Birthday too!! 🎂

I had previously ordered a beautiful Knight Broach for him. 🎁 (check out the picture!)

I think it’ll look great on him!! 😋
Plus I have a great taste of fashion too! 😎

And after a long awaited stay, and loving each other and longing for each other, he left, around 4:50am.

I booked a cab for him, and saw him off. 🙂

And I wish all the very best to the whole team!! Break a leg! 🍀 😘

REGARDS,
BASKET,

NOVEMBER 30th, 2017

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India Wins Miss World 2017

🍁 17 AUTUMNS AWAY 🍁

A very proud moment for India to bag the Miss World title yet again, after 17 years. 👑

Congratulations #manushichhillar for being the epitome of beauty with brains. 🌟

Posted in Anonymous, Believe, Blog, Blogger, Child Abuse, Crime, Death Threats, Emotions, JuvenileJusticeAct, Life, Love, Male Rape, Mind, Moods, Poems, Poets, rape, Sex, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, Virgin, Writers

The Tale of An Old Moppet

I used to figment, about angels from heaven

When I was six, witless!!

May be ol’ seven.

A day he came in

I was then playing.

Quirky scent of dread,

Known face, us within.
Bribed with a toy, spoke “Son Listen!”

Fistful of Toffees, ten or maybe eleven.

Shadow painted my skin-

Putrid touch I feel.



Am now mid teen,

Ascertained that was a sin.
Theft! My innocence; 

I constrained.

Pounded my feet again, I failed!
Insufferable pain…

Squealed, yelled & cried,

During the game.

I spoke up, no one listened. 

Perhaps I was witless! 

An Old Moppet.


Years passed, now twenty.

Same voice, “How are you Son?”

“You Got me?”

Staring down the threshold, at Me…

Posted in Anonymous, Believe, Blog, Blogger, DiaryEntries, Emotions, India, Kolkata, Life, Lonely, Love, Mind, Moods, Romanticism, Uncategorized, Writers

Rain

Dear Diary,

Think about when it’s Raining… 💧☔ 

How the tiny drops of water come sprinkling on Earth, and then slowly trickle down your window-screen…

It is as if each drop represents the great Warrior Princess living inside you.

It’s a symbol of that Pride and Glory that she pursues, the Faith and Courage that she possesses, the Power and Victory that she endeavours.

But the untroden path to victory is not without hostilities. There are hardships and there will be many more obstacles that would refrain her from achieving her utmost goal. 

Negativity is unavoidable…

There obviously will be times when the Demons would enervate and enfeeble her soul.

But she hardly ever gets stirred by what other beastly beings label her as. She has the least botheration of what they think of her, because she has what it needs to be- Focus, Dedication, Determination and Perseverance.

An énfant terrible, she doesn’t indulge in common worldly pleasures and doesn’t belong to a World of Lies. Her world comprises of Love, Peace, Purity and Humanity.

And that is exactly how one should be…

One should have enough self-esteem and confidence to believe in self-ability.

It is that Power that we need, the Discipline that needs to be maintained at a certain level, that Honesty to our own self is what we require.

That small flickery Fire burning inside us is what needs to be aroused into a Pyre… A pyre that defeats and diminishes all evil and negative and makes us strive for greatness and nobility that every soul deserves.

Life is precious, since we only live once…

And when we are given the Gift of Life, it should be our persistent endeavour to immortalise ourselves, in any and every field of life we choose.


Love and Lights,
Basket. 🌟 

Posted in Anonymous, Blog, Blogger, Child Abuse, Crime, Cyber Crime, Death Threats, DiaryEntries, Emotions, JuvenileJusticeAct, Life, Male Rape, Mind, Sex, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, Virgin

MALE RAPE-The Truth Not Spoken

​“How is it possible? A man can be raped?”

“That means he was definitely soft/feminine/weak.”
“He is not masculine enough!”

“What a pussy! Can’t even fight back.”


– What you end up hearing, when a Man is, well…”Sexually Assaulted”.


Truth is, “Men can be either sexually assaulted or abused, and it has nothing to do with how masculine they are.”

One out of every ten men is said to have been molested from the age of seven to nineteen. This is a worrisome issue, yet no one is talking about it –this bothers me.

Any guy who dares open up to having been Raped is stoned with questions/comments like the ones I mentioned, or even worse.

Male rape is a global problem that has always been silenced, bundled, and swept aside under the rug; the time has come for it to be preached…

Men who are raped, are more endangered because of the saying: “Men don’t cry.” That ego and charisma of the supposed ‘Male Child’ will not let them voice out. They suffer these abuse and yet pretend or are rather forced to pretend like nothing ever happened. They seal their mouths and carry on daily activities, trying to fight an enormous battle within themselves. Inwardly, they suffer.

I know there are many guy friends, sons, brothers out there, being emotionally and/or physically abused by one elderly woman or man, big brother or sister, or older female or male bullies – as in mixed boarding schools. They won’t talk, they won’t come out, because there are no platforms where they can register their ordeals without being looked upon as clingy immature weak creatures.

Men who are sexually assaulted are highly unlikely to report their victimization or to seek medical or mental health services. These victims find it hard to come out because: “No one should see a man’s tears”. They cry in their closet, wipe their faces dry, hide under facades of false smile. Families live under the positive illusion that: “Oh, Kazeem is doing great; David has no worries; Abhay is fine; Yurei is just a quiet child since birth”

Tell me now… How and Why won’t they look great to you? Do you ever have deep conversations with them? Do you let them confide to you their deepest fears?

Or is it that, you just pat the boys on their back, praise their manliness and success and tell them how proud you are of them?

There is a pressing need for resources to help these victims. There should be more voices chanting ‘help’ in the air. There should be more articles/online resources like this to sensitize parents, school/youth councillors, pastors, public figures, the government, and the masses at large of male rape.

Parents must learn to open up more to their children.

The male child must be aware that whenever someone abuses him sexually, it is Rape and First Degree of Child Abuse, and he has the right to report it and bring such person to to the forefront of glare. He should be armed with knowledge about such situations and not drown himself in self-pity, thinking it is his fault, thinking he may not be man enough, or even thinking the criminal is doing him any favour.

Platforms should be made available where Men can come out freely without fear of being ridiculed, without fear of being blame for his victimization, without fear of being scolded, without being further “Abused”. Families and schools should not shun their victims, but draw him closer and educate him.

If everyone is aware of this peccadillo, we will be more conscious of it, and the rapists and child abusers will give room for a rethink before indulging in such gruesome despicable act, because the masses are awake and night-watching with lit lanterns on their left hands high above their heads and machetes on their right hands, ready to strike. If we do those, male rape will be drastically reduced –if not totally curbed.


I HAVE WRITTEN THIS POST IN VIEW OF A RECENT CONFESSION OF A CLOSE MALE-FRIEND OF MINE, WHO HAD BEEN A VICTIM OF CHILD ABUSE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT BY AN OLDER WOMAN.

PLEASE GO THROUGH THE PROVIDED CHATS FOR DETAILS.

The problem here is that, when a Man is raped, unless it is a fresh case, there is no possible way of finding out visually if he’s been assaulted or not.

And in this situation Srija Chowdhuri had stalked the Victim for years after that assault spree ended and then she threatened to ruin his life if he ever went vocal about it. And he was a minor legally when he was sexually abused. 

This is not just Male Rape, but first degree Child Abuse, Cyber Crime and Death Threats.

Imagine visiting an elderly woman’s place, and unknowingly getting abused sexually and when you feel bad about it, she says “Don’t worry. Hush! You’re my darling son aren’t you?” ☺

Ever felt that anger, self-loathe and fury building up withing you over the years? That lump of extreme sadness stuck in your throat and you can’t even cry your heart out, because well…YOU’RE A MAN. MEN DON’T CRY right? ☺

And when that fury comes out, emotional outbursts like these happen. 

My friend was going through huge psychological torture and subsequent emotional breakdown. He may have even thought of finishing himself off. Who knows?

Luckily he was in his senses to confide in me about this gruesome past incident before taking any stupid action, or else a life would have been lost…

Posted in Anonymous, Believe, Birthday, Blog, Blogger, DiaryEntries, Emotions, FunnyPosts, India, Kolkata, Life, Love, Mind, Moods, Promise, Students, Uncategorized, Writers

Happy Birthday Teacher!

​Dear little Bukai,

Happy birthday sweet little teacher! 

One more year added to this obnoxiously long weird bazinga life! 🎂 🎊

Let’s just flashback into the Black and White era when Orkut was the “it thing”, mobile phones and internet were not that much important and Leonardo DiCaprio looked much younger and better. 🕒

Our journey together started on the January of 2003 when you were the easy fun-going college girl in First Year and I was a innocently evil kid in Transition who hated all her previous teachers and devised weird plans to get rid of them. 😇

I tried this time too okay?

I tried to get rid of you too. 😈

Especially since you scolded me the day I pricked my little thumb while trying to save a Caterpillar from the clutches of a mosterous Spider one fine Sunday morning. 😕
Because for the next consecutive 7 years, on each April Fool’s Day you managed to get the best of me. 😭

Because you scared the shit outta me when you lied that I was supoosed to attend the excursion to Nicco Park “which is really compulsory otherwise marks will be deducted from Exams” and your other Pointer brother had thus run away to school to attend it… I cried the whole day. 😫

Because you have the most prettiest Handwriting ever and your most important job was to write on the School Labels each new year with a new set of Books. 📚 ✒

Because you told me you were jailed once for 3 months in class 3 for stealing Anwesha Sen’s Tiffin Box and Bag, and that the Jail authorities made you eat Maggi…that too without Masala. 👹

Because you successfully made me believe that your grandmother’s name is Priya Marie Biswas and the Priya Marie Biscuit Company was named after her. 🍪 

Because I was and still am unable to apply perfect strokes of Nail Polish on my right hand and you do it for me (so much for an 18yr old eh?). 😏

Because you applied the first designs of Mehendi on my little hands when I was in Class 2 and needed to look extra “hottie” for a wedding night. 😜

Because you are not at all tech-savy and apparently Gadgets slow down your simple cute life, rather than speeding it up…so you need my help sometimes to “Learn” the uses. 😆 (The only instance in life when you actually learn from Me instead).

Because after Maa and Baba, you’re the Third and only most important person to have influenced this late 90’s kid in all aspects of Life and how to deal with it. 🌻 ☺

Also because your Mom makes excellent Biryani… 🍛 

Because you are the bestest Teacher of all time (ever since the Neanderthals discovered the use of Fire 🔥) and my “Last” one ever whom I will love beyond now and forever more… 💖

To my first Elder Sister, second Best-Friend, third Mother and fourth Teacher… 💝 💝 💝

Love and Lights,

Your First Student,

Satavisha.

Posted in Believe, Blog, Blogger, Crime, DiaryEntries, Emotions, India, Indian, IndianLaws, Life, Sex, Uncategorized, Verbosity and Life, Virgin

An Open Letter to Mankind

I have recently opened a Page on Facebook called Verbosity and Life which mainly publishes anything that is considered Art and Creative…be it Proses/Poetry/Opinions/Essays/Open Letters/Movie Reviews…you name it. And at the same time deals with this dreaded disease called Verbose, which in simple words is, the act of not being able to finish your thoughts or spoken language in lesser words. Thus we aim at aspiring authors, poets and entrepreneurs who suffer from Verbose and hence have bigger and better things to say, that too, in as many words as they want to, no limitations on language.

Because most other pages out there over the internet, are either “Tiny Tales” or “2 Sentence Stories” which I believe, kills the point if literal exploring with their word limits.

🐚🐚🐚

Now due to me being one of the 6 (and only Female) Admins of this page (you’ll get the context soon), I get a lot of responses from all over the World regarding essays and open letters they want us to publish about social issues…which is fine… We’d love to hear what everybody has to say.

But sometimes, I believe, because everybody following Verbosity and Life knows that the Page has an Indian base, foreigners and even some NRIs tend to throw hate comments towards India, while expressing their opinion.

And apparently, 95% of the hatred comes from India being termed as “The Rape Country” of the World right now.

No, I am not surprised.

Yes, people get raped here. The statistics have risen considerably, which is extremely unfortunate. I know.

But,

Not every Indian is a rapist.

And the whole of India is not “A Country of Rapists”.

This is an Open Letter directed to all foreigners and all Indians who’re ashamed of either being even remotely associated to India or of India for becoming “The Country of Rapists”.

🐚🐚🐚

Dear Fellow Humans,

This may as well sound otherwise, but, at the time being I don’t find it rational enough to refer to my own motherland as a “Country of Rapists”.

Yes, I, like any other Woman, am extremely vulnerable to the ruthless nature, that the society has become.

I am obviously scared to walk the streets alone anymore.

Even I find it reasonably hard to trust any male personality I come across (friend or unknown)…

Yes, I am afraid, of being just one of those victims who’ve been molested, raped, brutally ripped off their souls and left to die there on the streets.

But yet again, calling the whole country a Rapist Nation makes me question my own upbringing.

The society is no longer safe for women and children now. Things have obviously taken a toll for the worse…

Female Foeticides, girl child being killed, Fathers molesting their own daughters, Brothers raping their sisters, Friends who cannot be trusted with your life…

But instead of blaming the nation, why dont we trying changing the society itself?

Stand up for a cause that has to be implemented, changing the mentality, the attitude of the patriarchal society towards women, punishing anybody who harms the prestige of the nation.

We call India our “Motherland” dont we?

Then why are our mothers, daughters and sisters being subjected to gruesome beastly torture?

Is that not an insult to the nation already?

Not every other man in India is a rapist. I personally believe, being called a “RAPIST” is by far, the biggest insult the male community could ever face.

I feel sorry for any good man out there, because like us Women, Men’s lives have become vulnerable too, day by day.

I have Male friends who’re literally boons for me, because they are there to standup for me in times of need, they’d take a bullet to protect any woman who needs them, they love and respect any girl out there as a possible incarnation of a Wife, Daughter, Mother, or Sister they’ve or they will ever know.

But what makes me sad is that, due to the existential crisis of humanity, most Good men are now being either suspected or subjected to emotional harassment.

We Women are vulnerable for our lives, and Men out there are vulnerable for being objectified. Objectified for being being a Man in himself, objectified because well, he can NEVER be TRUSTED. Because apparently every Man out there is a Rapist, wandering the streets, hunting for the next victim.

Not every Man is bad. No.

And not every Indian Man is bad either.

You see how this is related now?

There is still good left in all of us. Believe it.

Give yourself a chance. To be Good. And to think Good.

And blaming the whole country, or the whole Male Community, for something a handful of bastards have commited won’t do any better.

It’s the same as abandoning a whole house down and doing nothing about the Germs that lurk inside, infect it’s interiors.

We must stand up for what is right. The sinners will have to be punished for all wrongs they have done. At the same time, we will not subject every other Man to emotional drain and random suspection.

Let us all Know, before we Speak.

No place is safe for anybody. But there is still hope. Hope for the equality that should actually be the dream. Equality in how you treat people with love.

And we will make it CHANGE.

India will no longer be a #countryofrapists .

And #notallmenarebad

#makeachange

#arapefreenation
Love and Lights,

A Girl Who Has Good Guy Friends. 💟