Ara

The two kids were lying on their backs under the shade of the big willow tree, looking towards the skies and imagining various shapes of the clouds.

"Look Ara, that looks like our rabbit Tooba! Look right there, don't you see it?" cried Meqbool. Ara stared hard to where he was pointing and said, "No Meqbool, it looks like your crooked nose!" She got up and had a fit of laughter. She ran down the hill, laughing all the way, her curly black hair swaying behind her and every once a while she turned to look back with those dazzling blue eyes. Meqbool just started dumbfounded. He too chased after her, holding his skull cap from flying away.

The two eight year olds were running through the streets, laughing and chasing each other, completely ignorant to all the shattered houses,broken window panes, the bullet holes on the compounds,the limb beggars, the mortar shells lying around and the grey look of the city.

Ara and Meqbool reached over to Ara's house where her mother was just serving tea to her uncle. He smiled at the two,took a sip and gravely put it down. Both the kids rushed upstairs and hid behind the balustrade on the landing trying to eavesdrop every word her uncle was conveying to her mother regarding the on going war. Apparently his son's kebab restaurant down south was hit by a rocket propelled grenade. She let out a gasp, and he raised his hand to tell her there was nothing to worry, that her son was not present there at the moment. But a lot of people from the neighbourhood were caught in the cross fires.

Ara went to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, head hung down in silence. Meqbool followed and knelt before her and wiped away her tears.

"I just want this war to end. I don't want any more people hurting or dying. I don't want Kakajaan to come here and give us bad news everyday.Ever since the school explosion, I have not had the courage to look at my books. Ever since Ms. Nila died I cannot take a pen in my hand and write.I don't..." she began to sob.

"I promised you that I would always protect you from any harm. I will not let them lay a finger on you or hurt you in any way. And now as you promised me, please stop crying."

Meqbool got up,went over to window,removed Tooba the rabbit from its cage and placed it on her lap. She immediately stopped crying and started stroking its white fur. It was their teacher's pet rabbit. They had found it trapped under the debris near the school one day. Ara and Meqbool brought it home and took care of it.

She looked up and smiled at him. He smiled back through his broken tooth. They then went down, into the garden and played with the rabbit. Sometimes they pretended they were pirates, taking on the big seas. Sometimes she was the princess and it was his duty to fulfil her highness' wishes. They continued so till sundown and it was time for Meqbool to go home. Ara mother's called out to them and  Meqbool gave his broken toothed smile and waved a goodbye to both of them and went home.

Her father was running late, so Ara and her mother dined together. Ara told her mother about all she and Meqbool did today, what games they played, what they saw from the hill top, how many fruits they ate...but her mother's eyes kept fluctuating to the window behind her.


Ara was now lying in bed, the moonlight streaking through her window and a cool breeze blowing the curtains. For some reason, she felt uneasy. Then she heard voices downstairs. Wondering who it could be at this hour she tip toed out of her bedroom and again hid behind the balustrade. She heard her father speaking very softly to her mother in the living room. He had come from work,she could tell because he still had his work clothes on. She bent a little further to get a proper view and hear him out clearly.

He told her that there was a missile fired by the enemy into their region.He paused. She looked at him asking him to go on. He took a breath and said that Meqbool and his family's house had been charred to the ground. None made it out alive. She clutched her heart and collapsed on the sofa. There was a minute of silence and she clutching her burqa looked up to her husband all teary eyed and uttered the word Ara. They both looked towards the stairs and saw her clutching the rails so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her blue eyes frozen through the rails. In a swift moment Ara realised that her parents were looking at her and she rushed back into her room.

That night she just lay her head on her mother's lap and did not say a single word. Her mother was gently stroking her hair while she continued to stare out the window silently.

Days and months passed by. Ara did not say or ask anything about Meqbool. She quietly played with Tooba in their garden.Or went to the hill and sat under the willow tree looking at the sky, trying to figure out which cloud looked like Meqbool's crooked nose. She would heave a deep sigh and just walk back home.

One day, her uncle came and told her that the town committee was deciding to rebuild the school again. She was asked to be present there for the foundation laying ceremony. She did attend it with her parents. She saw some of her classmates. Some of them waved at her and some even wanted to talk to her. Her friend Leila was the only one she smiled back at.

Later that evening, when she was in her room, playing with Tooba, she suddenly heard a loud bang. Her heart skipping a beat, she rushed out only to see half her living room shattered. Then another loud bang right behind her. She screamed, "Mamma" and was flung off the first floor landing down on the crumpled living room floor. She fell right beside her mother's torn body. She screamed her lungs out and began crying. Trying to get up, she turned towards her right and saw her father's hand under a huge plank. Another loud bang. She ran out of the house, but she barely made it to the front door all wounded and leg fractured, that there was another loud bang.

She was lying in the garden. She couldn't open her eyes because the sun rays were stinging them. She opened them slowly and saw a silhouette above her. It was speaking. She could barely hear its voice. She tried to lift her hand, but she couldn't feel anything. She strained her ears and could hear the faint whisper..."And now as you promised me, please stop crying."Then everything went black.

Love that we think we deserve

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. These are the words of Dr.Seuss. As I sat on the rocks close to the jetty and looked out at the vast ocean ahead of me, I kept pondering on this little thing called Love. And streams of questions began to flow into my mind. Is love all about hope or is it about hoping against hope? Is love for the fools or the wise ones? Does love take any giving or taking? When does one really comprehend the meaning of love?At what stage of life? And I turn around to my friends who are busy talking to each other or just singing songs down by the beach and I drift off in that sweet melody to another world...Here are the musings of a 19 year old girl who contemplates life very often (not really).

To begin with, I interpreted the quote by Dr. Seuss as the love you have for something that you immensely crave doing for the sole reason that it brings a smile upon your face and the thrill in your heart. You do it for the sheer love of it and derive pleasure out of it. Not because you want any monetary gain out of it or because of some sort of compulsion. This love is that what we see when one Roger Federer comes out onto the grass court holding that tennis racquet in his hands or one Sachin Tendulkar holding a cricket bat and gently raising it to the spectators when he hits a century. No I am not talking about fan adoration here. I am talking about the love any sports-person has for his game. It is his or her love for the game that makes them pursue it with full determination and commitment. If you are searching for any inspiration, I think the first source would be any sports personality. They have this never-back-down attitude that draws people to them.Their perseverance is truly motivating

I asked a couple of my friends to pen down their thoughts when one says the word Love and I'd like to share some of their snippets.

Shawn Kenneth Fernandes 

 Picture credits: Allen Vishal

You don’t love someone because they’re perfect or beautiful or confident,

You love someone in spite of the fact that they’re not.  

Embracing the pain and darkness in the other person.

Seeing how their flaws complete you.

If you ever have to change yourself for someone,

If you give up a part of yourself to be with someone,

You may lose the part that the other person fell in love with.

That would be a tragedy.

Never trust someone who says they love you but treat you ordinarily.

Everyone is extraordinary. Everyone is amazing.

Everyone has beauty. 

You just need to look for it. 

And if you see it in someone where others can’t,

Know that you are capable of loving.

My friend here has aptly talked about seeing how other's flaws complete you. Embracing one person for who they are is what nurture's true love. You loved someone for precisely the way they were, accepted all their flaws because that is what you loved about them in the first place. And as Shawn here says it would indeed be a tragedy if the other person tries to mould themselves into something they are not and eventually have a fallout.

For him, music is life. A means to express his inner demons and musings about life.An outlet. For him music is about sincerity. Through music he tries to perceive other people, what goes on in their minds et al and derives immense happiness when any kind of sincere music soothes him.

Sometimes when you go through ups and downs of life and you feel all alone and you hope somewhere inside, that someone would hear you out and listen to what you have to say. He does it very sincerely, lending you a ear. His love for music has made him very insightful.

Love.

Susan Pinto

Love

Some say it's good,

others say it's bad.

Some say it's forever,

others say it'll never last.

Some say it happens once,

but others have experienced twice.

Some say its beautiful,

others say: not so very nice.

I say it's worthwhile,

you will laugh and you will cry,

but you will never understand it,

unless you give it a try.

Susan, the most compassionate person I have ever come across till now. I admire her hope in love. In spite of falling down every time she manages to bounce back very quickly and put on a brave face. She is the hopeful one.

I remember reading an article not so long ago, something on the lines of being vulnerable and open to love by Vinita Nangia. She says that to love is to be vulnerable, to leave yourself open to hurt. Breene Brown says, what makes you vulnerable makes you beautiful. 

Opening up to love, I think exposes your vulnerability and hence allows others to see your inner beauty. As I said earlier, when someone embraces this beauty(flaws for some), it sparks love among them.

But, when you are at your most vulnerable and you have allowed this other person to let your guard down, and then left to hurt, you are left wondering if it was worth it in the end? I am of the opinion that if you have been left heartbroken, then there was nothing called love in the first place. You just took a wayward path. Some may be stronger and come to the end of the path with a bright smile, while some may just crumble along the way and never make it out.

So I leave that question to you...whether opening up is really worth it or not...

 Chetan Pangavane

I dont want to be the Snape of the Lily. Nor do I want a Snape if you are my Lily. I dont know if my love is all about possessiveness. But surely this feeling has sufficient genuineness. Maybe I love you just because I dont have you.But I do take pride in loving someone like you.

I know you already have someone in your heart. But you and only you can govern my heart.

I know this sudden awareness must be startling, but I have already done two years of waiting. Now I feel I've overdone everything . It's time to cease it all. 

Because, I guess love too has its limits and I am no great to cross them all.

Pray, be happy with your love, and me with mine,

and maybe you'll never know, 

and maybe I'll never say!

He reverberates my thoughts precisely. Unknown and unspoken love is the most hurtful. For those of you who live under a rock, Snape and Lily are characters from Harry Potter and the reference here to love has been put in the correct way. How painful it must be to love someone without telling them that?You wouldn't even know if the other person feels the same way. Misery. But if you see it in a different light, it is beautiful. It is beautiful how you will do anything in your power just to see the other person  smile.It is beautiful how you will try and try to get those words out yet fail.

Younita Pandey

Its when I was lying on the grass, acting like I was drunk. missing my best friends, who would come down 

the table to talk me out of my nonsense.

cry for me, when my heart would break, and wash my bleeding knees, when I fell hard.

*sigh.

they even tied my shoe laces in the twelfth standard.

and I was missing them.

I miss them.

but that evening when I lay acting like I was drunk, singing all the sad songs, being blue about everything, and you held my hand and said "I wont leave you"

I wanted to cry. but couldn't bring myself to it.

after all, who were you to hold my hand?

who were you?

damn! now I know, it wasn't you,

it was me who held your hand.

and you? you promised to keep it.

hold it back so I wont fall.hold it back so I could walk blindfold. 

hold me, until I could walk.

I know what this is. 

Its love in its purest form.

true concern in its sincerity.

care, without expectations.

unconditional, unselfish, love.

this was when I realized, friendship: it is.

friend, he was.  

Friend. That word has an altogether different meaning. But does it? Friends never hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are.

Mother. When she hears the cries of her baby in that maternity room for the first time, she falls in love for the second time in her life. As Abdul Kalam said, your birthday is the only day in your life where your mother smiled when you cried.

Parents love is unconditional. It means no bounds. And the best thing about it is, no one says I love you or something cliché . It is just inborn. It is expressed in such subtly beautiful ways. When your mother oils and braids your hair before sending you off to school, or when you cut yourself while playing, over all the yelling, she would be the one to apply the antiseptic to your wound, or how she would make you sit in front of the idol and recite all the prayers.

She will love you and protect you no matter what mistakes you do in life. And if you are fortunate enough, at any stage of your life,you can always cry on her lap, while she gently strokes your hair and soothes you...

Love should generate faith. Trust. Honesty. Sincerity. Love should be unconditional...

A day in the life of Pradnya!

So here I am, blogging after a long time, late at night, instead of studying for my tests which are in a week! Ahhh...so much has changed from the time I wrote about Rebecca. A lot of life lessons learnt, a lot of anguish lent out, met new people, made new friends, started viewing the world in a different light. And do you know the best part about this? Its that there is more to come. CHANGE is the only CONSTANT.
Since I seem to be not concentrating on how power amplifiers work, I'd rather pen down (here type it out) my musings of the night.

To start on a depressing note called Exams, that all of us hate, my semester exams went down well and I even scored pretty good grades. Yes I am definitely proud of my achievement. But somewhere down the line, with me being wired as one Pradnya Rane, can never try to feel proud about it. For some reason, I believe the universe is conspiring against me to just fall flat on my face every time I try to feel proud. Now you would say Pradnya, you are just over thinking it. Perhaps I am. But know one fact about me, is that I prefer to stay humble and modest and also look for a sense of humility in my fellow Earthlings!

So the other day, when the rain clouds had disappeared and the skies were beautiful hues of pink,orange and red, I sat in my balcony and had a moment of epiphany ( you see what I did there!!). Now I may sound completely irrational to you, but forgive me, I was a bit stupid to think so, but ultimately its the truth.So here goes...
When I look at the world and try to think about what everyone is trying to do here, in a sense , what exactly is our purpose here? So when I look around, I see people fighting over issues like this country is mine and not yours, this land is mine and mine alone. Men, women and children are being slaughtered for something as insignificant as land, or just because they did not obey certain customs of one's beliefs. Millions of people are dying without food and water and are hungry and miserable, with no roof over their heads nor a drop of water on their tongues. Millions. When you look at it that way, it ultimately looks like chaos.
Isn't that all were are? A big cauldron of chaos? Even the second law of thermodynamics states that Entropy of an isolated system never decreases, because the system always moves towards maximum entropy.
So there you have it. No matter what we do, the chaos will always increase.

I had seen this particular movie wherein there was a dialogue that made me think. "Oblivion is inevitable."
Currently, I am of the belief that after death nothing matters. Or even while dying, nothing matters except for being with your loved ones. Because after you die, you are definitely not going to remember Sigmund Freud's theory or Bernoulli's theorem or who was M.K Gandhi or whether you won the debate or not  etc etc. Ultimately they all seem insignificant. For example, when one climbs atop a high summit, and looks down upon the panorama, one realises their insignificance in this universe. This is a true feeling for each and every one of us. We come from nothing and go into nothing.
Now this nothing can be interpreted differently by different people and  I leave it up to you for thought.

Of late I have been completely saturated with sciences. Its said that when you do something in excess, it will eventually loose its meaning. I am feeling very guilty when I say this, that science no longer fuels my drive. I want it to. Because I find science pure and ultimate and very beautiful.But lately...perhaps its cause of the fatigue caused to mind from thinking about all the stuff that I wrote above.
 Sometimes I get this feeling, where I feel completely blanked out from the rest of the world and dont even know my thought processes.Sometimes I feel like sitting atop a high mountain and forgetting all about the world. For when this happens, I think I can sum up that feeling by quoting a few lines from Pablo Neruda's poem 'Keeping Quiet".

If we were not so single-minded

about keeping our lives moving,

and for once could do nothing,

perhaps a huge silence

might interrupt this sadness

of never understanding ourselves

and of threatening ourselves with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us

as when everything seems dead

and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go.

But friends, I know all that sounded like a far fetched idea, but if you just stop for a minute and ask yourselves the same questions, wouldn't you feel the same?

Now to tell you how I changed my opinions about my own thoughts. My best friend made me realise that we maybe insignificant at the end, but what would matter is what we do before we all meet the end.

It would matter if you could make someone smile, put someone out of their misery, teach someone, give life to someone, pay someone for their hard work, make someone happy.

And doing this selflessly would give you  ultimate joy too. Do you want the whole world to love you or just the select few who would love you unconditionally?

How many people did you try to make smile today? Did you give food to the hungry beggar on the street? Did you teach someone an important life lesson? THIS IS WHAT IS GOING TO MATTER!

I tell myself that I am not in the worst condition. There are people who are dying fighting wars which are not their own, who dont get a simple 2 square meal or have no basic educational or healthcare facilities, and that I am very lucky to have amazing parents who love me despite all my flaws and loyal friends to whom I can always turn in times of need. I am forever grateful for this, because a lot of people out there dont even have all this.

Before signing off, I would like to say that we should try to live a life with no strings attached. We come here with nothing and are not going to take anything with us. Secondly, I tell this to myself, no matter how judgemental people are about me, I don't care. That is what they are. People. लोगोंका काम ही हैं कहना!! Because I know that I am crazy and that is not going to stop me from being the PRADNYA that I am.

People who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do. 

Because we all love Steve Jobs!

Rebecca in Red

She storms out of the building into the chilly evening, where she left her work presentation incomplete. She couldn't take it any more. She walks with her leaden heart and heavy feet across the posh plaza onto the streets.Her beautiful red dress which she had ironed out for this presentation caught the glimpses of a few ladies down the street, but she just continued to walk.

Her pace was in sync with her heart rate, which was pretty fast. She didn't know where she was going.She was dazed, just staring blankly ahead and going forward as if her feet had its own mind to think of where it were going.

 She reaches the main streets.From somewhere around a corner she could hear her favourite music blaring out of the speakers. Usually she would tap her feet and begin trotting about. Not today. She felt the tones hit her hard like a brick.She wondered why and moved forward.A few feet ahead she saw a bunch of kids playing, making merry  and enjoying their childhood. On a normal day this would bring about a smile on her face and those dimples on her cheeks would melt anyone's heart. But today wasn't her normal day. She stared blankly at the laughter of those kids and couldn't fathom any reasoning whatsoever. She moved forward.

Its twilight now.Further down the street she saw an old man trying to cross the road. No car nor any motorbike halted to let him get to the other side. She would have felt pity and helped him cross the road, but not today. Her leaden heart didn't allow her to break her step and she continued forward. Further more, a street vendor called out to her as she was his daily customer. But today she didn't heed to his beckoning not having the appetite and walked further.

Her red heels were killing her feet and she was surprised that she had walked this far in them. She took them off and came to a halt on the bridge in the city. Her back to the railings and to the dangerous drop down below, unaware of the serenity behind her that had the capacity to overcome her gloom.This slowly creeping sadness over takes her beautiful mind.She knows it.She knows she can fight it. But she has no energy left, no fathomable reason to do so. So she lets it take over. She saw all the auto mobiles gushing past her on the road. She saw all the people walking past her on the footpath. She saw them. But they didn't see this lady dressed in red. They didn't see her. She got angry. How can they just walk past me without knowing what inner turmoil I am going through, she wondered.

She turns her head to the right from where she just came and could see her office building towering over the others, mocking at her misery. She grips the heels in her hands even more tightly.She then turns her head to the left and sees a couple embraced in each others arms,passionately kissing away into the sunset. She is all the more angered and tosses her heels into the river below.

There is a cool breeze blowing through her beautiful black hair.She closes her eyes to let the breeze ease her pain. But she feels sore. She feels numb. She feels cold, no not from the breeze outside but the indifference that was generated inside her. This left her even more confused. She wanted to cry because they said crying would let it all out, but of late not a single tear came to her eye. She doubted her emotions. She looked at the building.Anger. Anger of not being satisfied with the job she was doing even though she excelled at it. She looked at the couple deep in love.Sadness, for she did not get a kiss yet that she deserved. Sadness for she too secretly yearned for a platonic warmth of sorts from her Prince Charming. Sigh.

Then she looks out at the vast expanse from that bridge. The sun has set and the moon has slowly crept up. The wind is now whistling and her hair is swaying in the wind even more.A chill runs down her spine.She embraces herself for the cold.She hoped that some one would come up to her and ask her about her turmoil. She just felt mooted in one place with all of life flowing past her in fast forward. She yelled out loudly, hoping for an answer to echo back to her. Sadly there was just the dull roar of the motor boat below. She wanted everybody to stop for once. She wished that everything would just halt for a minute, even for a minute, complete stillness, everybody doing nothing. She felt empty. She felt like somebody had taken an integral part of hers and tossed it into the river below. The dark waters intimidated her. She looked like a ghostly figure dressed in red under the moon light. 

The stars begin to peek out.She looks up and remembers what she was told when she was younger, about our loved ones residing in the stars after death. She hopes she could go home and cuddle up in her mother's arms just like before and forget all the worries of the world. It pains her to know this will never be possible. And there, a shiny tear rolls down her cheek. It felt cold like steel against her skin. She was taken aback. Then a cascade of hot tears begin to flow and she weeps like a baby.

Its almost past dinner time now and she is still standing there on that bridge under the moonlight staring at the expanse.The wind is still blowing through her hair. A shadow creeps up slowly towards her. She is aware of it but doesn't turn.The person is a silhouette now. Its a man. He slowly walks up to her and places his jacket onto her shoulders and walks past her. She is surprised and turns to look at the man. But he has already walked way too ahead. She just sees his silhouette disappear into the darkness.A faint smile comes across her face. Rebecca, clutches the jacket and turns toward the road to her house.

The stars above smile.

Madam Rides The Bus

I have always been fascinated by this commuting system in our country.The Bus.For some reason, I feel the bus is so much more than just a chassis with a roaring engine,much more than just an auto mobile.For me it is more of a means of non verbal communication.Feel free to argue with me, but I have been planning on writing this blog post for quite some time now.So here goes...

In the olden times, people were fascinated by The Bus.People in the rustic,rural areas found it as their only source to travel to the city, a place which offered new hopes for dreamers like me.So yes, it seemed something brilliant to them, something as a tool that provided opportunity. And hence they would wait with so much anticipation and enthusiasm for The Bus.And for spontaneous people like me, it was the means of going on an adventure.

I recall this short story we had in class 8th, where a girl of 8 years,Valli, is so taken at awe by this bus that travels through her village everyday at regular intervals of 2 hours.I can put myself in her shoes and say that it indeed fascinated me when I was younger.

And that feeling when you are sitting and quietly observing out the window and deeply contemplating life...exquisite...

Travelling almost everyday in the local bus during my schooling years, has been a joyful ride.For me it was not just about going from point A to point B.Everyday was a new day in the bus. Everyday I would see new faces.Every face had a story to tell.And me being the person who stands on the sidelines and observes, enjoyed this experience very much.If you watch your fellow passengers closely, you see that they are most of the times, if not always, themselves.You come to know so much about these passengers when you travel with them.
For example a pompous lady,who is dressed really to her extents, might be attending a wedding or some other religious function.Oh and the way she would talk to her friend/neighbour...as though she has all the authority to boss over other's life!!!One could say that she has her way with her husband!
Or look at the old man sitting there on the seat saying senior citizen.When I look into his eyes, for some reason I see sadness.I see him not being able to get the love of his child that he deserves.I see him not regretting all the sacrifices he and his wife made for their child, hence forgiving the child's mistake and moving on.
Then I see a simple man dressed in simple clothes carrying the weekly grocery.I see his enthusiasm, because he is pretty excited and happy to give his kids some new fruits that they enjoy.This makes me so happy,because despite not being rich, the man is at ease an satisfied with his life, which I wish we all were.
Sometimes I see the girls with the kohl draped eyes,typing away on their pesky little cellphones with their posh manicured hands, or the boys dressed in a way as if they had fallen into a big cauldron of paint, trying to seek the girls' attention.Trust me, these scenes are hilarious!!

So travelling from my place to the heart of the city was really an adventure.This may seem a bit of an exaggeration to you but honestly one must experience The Bus.The passengers and the ticket collector, or as we say, the conductor, have a different kind of language which is unique in its own way.Even if you are a rare bus passenger, the conductor somehow knows where you want to go.I call it intuition.And it is something I find subtly beautiful.

I have found myself having a nice conversation with some people who are new in the area.It is really nice how two people can share their thoughts over a small distance journey.And then I realised that in spite of saying the world is a small place,I may not meet these people ever again.I treasure the few minutes I shared with them.Because I realised that it takes less than few minutes for someone to impact your life, and the fact that you may not meet them ever again, makes you realise how small and insignificant we are in this big cruel world.

Alas,of late, The bus that I travel through now, to come to college, is full of people who enjoy the morning slumber.The bus feels so lifeless everyday.Its like people are just exhausted of their lives and are just mooted there, going on with life for the sake of it,having lost all their avidness in the daily travails of life.Makes me wonder, would I become like them eventually?Shudder...

Added to that is the worst tragedy this country faced on 16th December 2012.This same bus that fascinated me, took as well as gave something important to us,the women of India.That night was every girl's nightmare.Even while writing this I have goosebumps all over my body.That night, that bus, those men, that place, took away our security.It took away our safety.It took away our trust.It took away our freedom of being a woman in this free country.But it also gave us an important aspect.It invoked in each and every woman in this country a NIRBHAYA...

Just like how Valli's enthusiasm was doused when she saw the once gleeful cow lying dead because of a road kill, The Bus has become an intimidating factor for me and I no longer look at it the same way...