Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Are we all voyuers??

There has been this trend going in Facebook apparently started by women [which I seriously doubt] that women post answers in their status much like a meme, the question is known only to women.

It is an innocuous question with a provocative answer. It started with the bra colour question where women were supposed to write the colour of their bra. The question is sent in the inbox and you have to write the answer. How having everyone in your friends list and their grandmothers know the color of your bra helps breast cancer, I haven't been able to figure out.

For the latest one here is the message I received
Remember the game last year about what color bra you were wearing at the moment? The purpose was to increase awareness of October Breast Cancer Awareness month. It was a tremendous success and we had men wondering for days what was with the colors and it made it to the news. This year's game has to do with your handbag/purse, where we put our handbag the moment we get home for example "I like it on the couch", "I like it on the kitchen counter", "I like it on the dresser" well u get the idea. Just put your answer as your status with nothing more than that and cut n paste this message and forward to all your FB female friends to their inbox. The bra game made it to the news. Let's see how powerful we women really are!!! REMEMBER - DO NOT PUT YOUR ANSWER AS A REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE- PUT IT IN YOUR STATUS!!! PASS THIS TO ALL THE WOMAN YOU KNOW

And now women are putting down stuff like in on the couch etc. So it got me thinking that not only do we like to look in on the private aspects of other people's life but we want them to see ours, and then we put on an act and get outraged about infringement of privacy in our lives these days. I mean hello? why invite then get offended and accuse of trespassing?

So why do we do this? Is it to feel more attractive and desirable or is it a kosher way of advertising your femininity. Is it just the tease in us women. I fail to understand

What could this kind of status message have as its purpose other than to invite voyeurism and have others speculate especially men? Then to go on speaking about womens rights and feminism.

I think streakers are far more honest in their intentions - if you want attention have the bloody guts to be open about it and not hide behind stupid provocative Facebook statuses

Saturday, September 4, 2010

If we don't remember something does it mean it does not exist for us???!!
I have been wondering why we don't remember our early years of course I have met people who insist they remember things from when they were two but I take that with a pinch of salt.
Anyway why don't we remember?
Kids do have a memory so why don't we have a recall of that memory?

Saturday, August 21, 2010

of dreams

Dreams are like the shock absorbers of our mind they are the amniotic fluid that protects us - the brain defense against the monotonousness of everyday life. I love dreaming - my own mind shocks and stuns me and shows me a side of me that I didn't know I had.

Sometimes in my dreams I design the most beautiful houses, the most gorgeous clothes - I am a maker of beauty. I sometimes wonder if that capability is locked somewhere deep inside and I could unlock it with some fancy drug?

I sometimes like to think that we are actually two people one that functions when we are awake and the other rebellious twin that is locked up, and it waits for night to come out and play .

Or maybe they are both just as real but exist on different planes of times and space. Just the way when its night in some parts of the world and there is day in others - maybe our waking life is the dream of our dream self.

What I am trying to explain very badly is that when we are awake our other self is dreaming and our waking life is that dream and vice versa

Did that make it any sense?? Its kind of exciting when you think about it. Our dreaming selves meet people that we haven't!!

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Just a thought

You know as kids we all imagined that our toys came to life in the night, when we couldn't see them and had a life of their own. Especially if you read a lot of Enid Blyton, with tales of golliwogs and naughty dolls.

Well the other night lying in bed reading a particularly favorite author I thought how cool would it be if the characters in a book did the same. Imagine them all coming alive inside the book and living out the words. And how fabulous if we could get a chance to slip into the books as an onlooker or an extra in a movie set.

It really would be a dream come true - that's why I love dreams so much - because these things do happen in dreams especially if you have weird dream like me

PS: The book I was reading was 'Bloodsucking Fiends' by Christopher Moore

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

You are what you do...ain't that true

Okay I apologize for the terrible rhyme, but it was irresistible. I have been doing a lot of thinking recently, after quite a long time it must be said, and I was thinking about what makes us who we are. In the past I used to think that our thoughts and intentions are a bigger part of that picture. But using myself as an example I have come to realize that the sum of all the actions you do in a day, not even a lifetime, just a day, build up to who who become. It is a constant evolution dictated by our daily actions so I might think I am a reader, or a thinker, or a writer but until I do those things regularly, my claim means nothing.
Just doing an action regularly slowly becomes part of who you are, what you think and your intentions are like fuel but no matter how much fuel you have in a car it will be useless until you turn on the ignition and actually drive.
So if you want to call yourself a charitable person just thinking good thoughts of others won't make you one you must be charitable on a regular basis.
If you want to become an artist pick up that brush and do something daily then you realize that most things that we want to be require discipline and dedication and a lot of effort and if we put that effort we will get there.
It is easy to hide behind insecurity of not being good enough but what we really lack is the hard work everyone wants it easy, the shortcut, the excuse of not being gifted naturally is the best example of not doing something because there is no easy way.
The only thing in my life that I have put in effort for is my daughter and I see the result of that in myself and can safely say that that when you do put in the immense hard work there is always an output that is tangible.
And similarly not doing something, you slowly chip away parts of yourself, we are not constant fixed being, parts can be taken away and added, we are a work in progress, as long as we put in the effort and constantly evaluate, weed out the unnecessary and cultivate whatever gives us our meaning, contentment naturally follows

Monday, July 26, 2010

It feels so strange to write after such a long time - I had turned my back on writing and now it seems so difficult to turn back. Why was I so lazy and is anyone even interested in knowing?
I just felt I had nothing to say – my self totally submerged in being another person.
I was walking farther and farther away from myself getting totally absorbed and assimilated into being someone else – the mother, who only had thoughts about her child read books regarding only her, all hobbies all activities centered around her.
What time was left, after she slept, squandered away in mindless games, its as if I was running away from thinking or being more. It felt that the only thing I could do well was being a mom and was scared to try to be more, it felt like my natural vocation and became a carte blanche to be nothing else. It felt so safe to be what I instinctively knew how, to do the the first thing I was so good at without it taking massive amount of effort.
I woke up to the slow atrophy of my mind after reading someone else’s innocent remark. Changes that are personal can come from such impersonal sources.
I find that strangely hilarious.
Now it seems that I am back to trying to reclaim some of my old self without feeling guilty.
It was so scary to return to this page like a garden that you had ignored and was now filled with weeds, at the same time I feel excited as well at this tentative reclamation.
It becomes very easy to hide behind excuses, to rationalize why you are wasting away your mind why you are turning your back on growing forward, so easy and safe to lapse into mindlessness after a tiring day….
I feel so exposed right now, my fingers hesitating at the 'publish post' button. That is what writing does…. it brings the mirror forward