About Me

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Worcester, MASSACHUSETTS, United States
Hi guys out there! Well, stories have been my first love because they make life. We all have stories to talk about, stories untold, stories locked in our hearts. I have been writing stories ever since they influenced me. Here I am with three fiction novels in my kitty. If you have a story you want to talk about, you can always write to me. Here you'll find my blog posts too which are sometimes funny and stupid because I choose to write what prevails within me. About me on a personal note: I love to write at any time. Some day, I want to be the person who creates a tiny difference in the book world. Apart from that, I do have common interests just like anybody else with an extra tint of passion for books. You can always write to me here chitalmehta1987@gmail.com or check my website here - www.chitalmehta.com

Saturday, July 25, 2009

The ‘F’ ffffffff Word

I was not too well versed in usage of English fowl slang but my college life filled up that space. Campus life gives so much freedom to spit your mind on anyone whom you like to. You always end up in conflictions with the girl who always loved to insult you or the guy who told you that your dress was not trendy on your first date. Man, is that not too much to handle when you are young. There comes the “f” word for your aid. It helps you to curse the traitor in the most possible fowl language. It comes to your rescue each time you see the person whom you would rather like to have kidnapped and dump him in the Bermuda triangle.
The pathetic part is that you know you can’t do that, so you end up including the “f” word in your so-called English vocabulary.

I recently heard a conversation between two collegians discussing their boyfriends.

G1: hiya, how is your life goin… mine is fucking worse.
G2: oh, tell me about it.. I got this fucking boyfriend of mine who makes me think each time why in the world I fell for his fucking stories.
G1: oh, ok.. that’s sad…. Hey, did I tell you I broke up with my two-day-old boy friend cos I caught him roaming around with a fucking female on his fucking red bike.
G2: fuck man…. You kidding me.. he seemed so sweet.
G1: that is the prob.. guys are always so fucking sweet but it takes an overnight for them to turn sour.
G2: great. I am not able to get rid of my fucking boyfriend… though I told him to fuck off.. he thinks it is great idea that if he trots around me like a fucking kid I might take him back.
G1: I know guys are so fuckin dumdheads.
G2: yup, so let us see how far can we put up with our fuckin boy friends.

It can be seen that no conversations last without the aid of at least one ”f” word. Things around us are so irritating that every other person gets the “f” word stuck to his tongue. Did you know that the “f” word is horribly contagious too. It was not long before I noticed that I had unknowingly passed on the “f” word to my younger brother who is just sixteen. The other day I heard him over the phone that went somewhat like this.

“are you sure…fuck man”
“god.. are you crazy or what”
“fuck you … you ass”.

I had my eyeballs reaching the ceiling, as I never wanted this to happen. How the hell do I get him to spit the “f” word off his tongue forever. Getting rid of the “f” word was like trying to give up smoking or drugs. I had tried several attempts but in vain. All I did was to summon my brother and give him a nice thrashing and I threatened him if he ever used the “f” word.
As if it were the most innocent thing to do, he asked, ‘ok, why don’t you give me a list of the fowl words I am supposed to use?’
May be it was too late. When I myself had difficulty to kick the “f” word, how do I ask my bro to give up. That was the first time I wished there was an “ANTI -FUCK WORD USAGE COMMUNITY” providing therapy sessions to cure people to give up the “f” word.
However, I realized very soon the major impact of the “f” word one day when I was busily collecting a few papers lying over the floor.
‘fuck… fuck…I hate this.. fuck man… ,’ I uttered, quite accidentally of course.
Up ahead, I saw the disapproval on my professor’s face. I could literally feel the words “you are fired” dancing in his mouth waiting to vomit on me. He gave me a stern look and walked away. The “f” word is no longer in my dictionary. Still, I can’t help it sitting on the tip of my tongue each time things get messy. Not many realize the impact of the “f” word.
Sometimes it can cost you your pal’s feelings too. So next time when you have this sudden urge of using the “f” word, swallow it inside your mouth tactfully and trust me, you save a lot of terrible things in your life.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Being a girl in an Indian home

Now, this is not the kind of topic which I would talk about on a pleasant sunny day but what the heck? I have stopped looking for seasons to wake up the writer bug inside me ever since I realized that the world is filled with issues that one has to stop looking for the right time to discuss. And when one of my friends asked me to write on this topic, I was like I should take the privilege to talk for an Indian girl.

So here I am writing about how is it to survive in an Indian home as a GIRL!!! Well, I would not rule out that as a bad option on the basis of me being one and I know it’s not that bad at all. India has grown from the transition of being a girl child welcomer from an anti-girl baby ogre.
This is quite a transformation which of course took ages and lessons for the Indians to learn to grasp the idea that girls need not and should not be a taboo in homes.
Playing a female role in an Indian home is quite an experience. Despite some Indians having an aversion towards the girl child community, there are still a number if Indians who treat the females in par with a Goddess.

She is showered with all love and care. Though always treated minor to a male, an Indian girl is taught to be emotionally strong. Sometimes, so strong that she can tolerate any kind of treatment to the maximum. She can also avenge if been asked to walk against her values and ideals.

Gone are those times when an Indian girl was shunned to study further or was not able to choose a life partner of her choice. She is not just the “Home maker” anymore. Times are changing tremendously laying an impact on the minds of Indian regarding the female right of way.

She is still allowed to make all her dreams come true, still allowed to touch the sky, still allowed to fly high in the air but at the end of the day she is expected to remember that she always has a parent or a spouse or a child waiting for her. She has responsibilities to fulfill as an Indian girl is taught to love her family, to take care of them, to be there whenever needed no matter how important her world of dreams mean to her.

Fighting against all the challenges imposed in an Indian home, the lady of today has learnt to balance her dreams, her passions and interests without having to compromise on her family errands.

I would say I am lucky to be a girl in an INDIAN home.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Lesson learnt through journey

Ever wondered how is it to sit beside a stranger all night? Ever thought of finding yourself squashed between people whom you don’t know? Well, this would normally happen if you are a passenger in a train. Train journeys can actually teach you a lot despite the journey lasting few hours only.

I have become a regular traveler of train since the day my job shifted to Chennai. There were many instances when I had to travel alone. I always thought it was a great liberation to have a confirm ticket in your hand after the anxious ages of waiting to get them confirmed.

But I was wrong. Getting a confirm ticket is just not all. I realized this one summer night when I was scheduled to board a train around ten thirty. Dressed in a short top and jeans, clutching the ticket in one hand with the baggage in the other, I stepped into the train only to find the compartment scarcely occupied. Beside my berth were seated five bachelors.

Their presence somehow made me uncomfortable though I distracted myself playing mobile games and munching on snacks.

As the night wore on, I could sense the men discussing me. I prayed desperately for the women breed to appear from nowhere.

I sighed with relief at the sight of the TTR. Immediately, I explained him my distressed situation. He listened carefully and shifted me to a berth which was crowded but adaptable.
At the moment, I resolved never to travel alone unless necessary.

In the next compartment, I encountered three old ladies fighting for space over my seat. To my annoying disappointment, they would not budge an inch which made it impossible for me to doze.

It was then that I realized that no journey can be assumed to be comfortable. Even though my ticket was confirmed, comfort was not guaranteed. I guess life also works in a similar way. We just have to mould ourselves to the situations that arise. It’s truly said that one should be prepared for anything in life.

My current train journeys, though not very enjoyable ones, have come to terms that I will have to adjust those few hours to reach my destination. We all have to cross phases of life which are often not in our favor to reach a favorable position. From the train journey, I learnt that simple things in life can teach important lessons.