Category: Thoughts uncut

Monkey Mouth

It’s a weird idea, fun. No two people have the same perspective of fun. And I didn’t have any photos that are even close to what someone else might consider fun. Except, perhaps, this one.

monkey

I took this photo at a crafts shop in Thekkady. I’m not the kind who loves to buy and accumulate stuff in my home, but I like appreciating interesting-looking things. And this monkey caught my eye right away. It was amusing, putting in so much handwork to create something almost ugly. And I couldn’t resist a close-up shot of that big mouth.

I was trying to get different angles when the owner of the store “reminded” me photos weren’t allowed. He made no effort whatsoever to hide his irritation at us. Guess we weren’t the first over-enthusiastic tourists at his shop that day.

To Be a Teenager

teenage

I once told my mother that I didn’t want her to be my friend. She was my mother, and I wanted her to be just that. But she had got it into her head from some hip self-help book that parents of teenagers should be their friends.

And I didn’t want that. After reading similar emotions on Quora, I realised I wasn’t the only one. And for good reason too.

Teenage is wonderful. It’s when we get to see the world in a new light, experience the pangs of attraction, affection, and even lust. It’s the time to roam around carefree and enjoy life for what it is.

Except, teenage is also when a child goes through a lot of things she doesn’t understand. Like the physical changes in her body, the unpronounceable hormones that show up from nowhere, attraction (or aversion) to people, and (goodness!) mood swings that are just too confusing to comprehend.

What’s more, we’re in the mobile era. The world expects teenagers to know everything; to discuss the latest tech buzz during dinner, finish a 30-inch essay in minutes, do some sort of sport, and break (even Olympic) records that they’ve never heard of before. The 21st century is not the teenager’s haven.

For a child starting out to navigate our conniving society, handle breakups and peer pressure, understand that mom and dad don’t talk to each other, and still perform well in school is too much of an ask.

Their heads are filled with emotions they can’t identify, thoughts they don’t know to express, and doubts they can’t clarify. They’d go to school happy and come back with a broken heart and no clue as to why they feel that way. Is it the teacher yelling at them for a silly grammar mistake, friends getting lunch without them, or that the cute boy in class hadn’t shown up that day? Anything could break their hearts. Because teenage is a myriad of hormones.

That’s why they need direction. They don’t need yet another friend to talk to because their friends have the same problems. What’s more, sometimes they don’t even trust friends.

Teenagers don’t need another friend in their parents. They need advice, instead. They want parents to teach them to handle a situation, not just acknowledge it — as friends do.

Children realise that their parents have already tackled the reins of teenage. And no matter how much they argue, complain, or swear at their parents for imposing a curfew after 10 pm, they know it’s for their good. Deep down, teenagers love their parents for those tiny rules because they know mom’s got their back. After all, a parent is always a stronger authority than a friend.

That’s why teenagers want parents to be parents. Because a mom who’s got her life sorted is motivation for a child to get her’s too.

Walk in the Park

It was just another Saturday evening. I lay on the floor of my sweltering room, looking up at the fan swirling without a touch of breeze. I was bored. I had nothing to do. I was tired of sitting indoors all day watching TV series from the 70s. I had done nothing else the whole of that day and I wanted the next day to not be the same.

I messaged my friend and set up a plan to visit the nearest zoological park. And to think I hated zoos and crowds of people! But that’s how desperate I was. The urge to do… something, led me to nod to plan that’d been in discussion for a long time.

I woke up early, and washed my hair.

At about 2.30 pm, we left braving the vegaries of the unusual monsoon heat, with cotton shawls over our heads and swelling anticipation in our hearts.

zoo 1

As we stepped into the first few inches of the spanning 1,490 acres, a chill ran through my spine. It is a large forest; people come here for day trips and picnics. And we had come for just a walk. We started out with a massive crowd hogging its way into the park, but it thinned out as people moved away exploring on their own.

That was the best part of the visit. It wasn’t anything like the school excursions we used to go on. We didn’t have to hold hands with our partners and walk in lines. We didn’t have to split our attention between the trees, animals, and to the teachers lest they made announcements. And we didn’t have to time ourselves so as to leave early.

We could take all the time we needed.

I never liked gawking at animals in a cage. Or pointing a camera, teasing them to turn around and stand still so I could take a picture for my friends to “ooh” and “aah” at later. So we stuck to the pathway not going up to the enclosures. And lucky for us, most people clung to the enclosures, giving us enough space to strut the path.

We walked around with lusciousness looking down at us from every corner. Tiny nectar plants attracted butterflies of all colours. There even was one with a chocolate-coloured coat.

Trees of all kinds and sizes stood by our way, letting through the setting sun, leaves swaying to the breeze, and looming shadows starting to show. Some other trees had begun to stoop realising night coming.

The way was paved well, easy to walk on even for hours along. We roamed about looking around, gaping at heights, pointing out squirrels in bird cages, and catching a glimpse of the white marvel peacock with her sad eyes and drooping head.

zoo 2

Looking up at decade-old tree barks, peeling off skin and sprouting new ones, I realised the value of nature. There was a time when trees, plants, and shrubs just grew every where, unbound. But we now have confined these forests behind stone walls, enclosing animals along with it, naming it a zoo, making a fortune in maintenance fees, and calling it preservation.

Sure, it was a well-kept park. Neat and tidy, with snack parlours and ice cream stores. It was a perfect place for human entertainment. But if we had left them be, unpruned and un-sheared, there would’ve been more.

What I Saw

She stood in front of a mirror, her eyes fixed on her reflection. Her lips curled into a disapproving sneer, as she cringed at what she saw.

“What do you see?”

She saw a huge brown forehead, cowering underneath bushy black side bangs. She saw a pair of sharp black eyebrows, hovering over round blue eyes.

A long nose with a pointy end and pale lips dry to the surface.

An over-stretched pored  skin and a blunt chin with a dent on the side. Streaks of straight short hair tucked behind meaty ring-less ears.

She thought she saw a shadow of a cheekbone. And a pair of squared glasses enclosed in a plastic frame of black with a sliver of red.

I said nothing.

I looked at the woman who ignored drooping eyes to stay up all night nursing my chicken pox.

I looked at the woman whose eyebrows curved as she concentrated on keeping my egg yolk runny.

I looked at the woman who told me I wasn’t crazy when I wanted to get my ears pierced. The woman who stood by my side when the world turned its back on me.

And I saw the woman I cherished.