Acceptance or Denial?

All our lives we have been told to accept things as the way they are given to us, the rules of families, social norms, shortcomings of our loved ones or even ourselves. We have been given a strict set of codes to abide by or die, but when has it become acceptable to live an individual’s life that is just as symmetrical to the other ones in the crowd. Do we even have any individuality left or have we become the part of the crowd that screams of individuality in a sheep herd? Acceptance plays an important role in our lives, we want our families to accept us, even if they are being rebelled against, we want our social circle to accept us, even if we try and defame them as soon as they turn their backs on us. We plead for acceptance from our lovers, when in reality we can hardly ever look up in the mirror and accept ourselves.

Relationships are the most important part of someone’s lives, at the very least they are of mine. Yet, when it comes to loving someone, why do we beg to and fro for the other person to accept our love and reciprocate in the same intensity? Is it because we strategically plan the intensity of love before falling in love with someone one or is it because love can never truly be measured or planned upon. When it comes to love, are we willing to compensate the shortcomings of our partners by filling in by our own or are we choosing to be in denial?

In the world where find a partner is hard enough, are we creating one by turning the blind eye on the wrong ones for the sake of ‘love’? Are we accepting the shortcomings of others or living in denial of our own?


The Battle of Wrongful Rights

I never really understood what the big deal is with women smoking. I know for a fact that it is a major killing factor in the otherwise ‘can be led’ healthier lifestyle. But why do people look down on women smokers like some bad, filthy object that can be easily be bedded but cannot smoke? For over such a long time into my adolescence and working age I have seen so many men and women turn around and give a dirty look to the women who smoke, be it in groups or all alone on the streets.

These women are often signed, sealed and delivered in following categories due to stereotypical thinking:

  • ‘Oh poor girl, she must be going through a bad break up/work crisis/family problem/whatever’ – This category is what I like to call – Fake Pity The Perfectly Sane People.
  • The second is even more adequate and easier for people of a certain age and mentality to fit in the women smokers into i.e. ‘Have Absolutely No Morals Kinda Girls’ and their favorite dialogue – “Deko kya sikhaya hai maa baap ne! Chi” (Look! What their parents have thought them. Eww!)
  • And the third and the most disgusting category a woman smoker can be fitted into is (no drum rolls please!) – “The She’ll Fuck With Anyone Kinda Girl!” People, no matter where I go, no matter how much they or their ambience drips of class will always have one particular thought in mind when they see a girl smoking – “Oh my god! She smokes! She’ll sleep with anyone I tell you!”.

But why am I suddenly addressing this issue on my barely active blog?

Well, the other day I was watching my favorite sitcom ‘Sex and The City’ (and mind you that series is not JUST about sex!) and there it was, the perfectly cute guy dumping the perfect girl over a mere issue of smoking. It made me wonder, is smoking the real deal breaker?

I always thought real attractions accepted the other person however he/she might be. So why is that a man can smoke in bed after a passionate session of love making and enjoy it as ‘Victory Cigarette’ but if the woman does the same she is considered to be obscene? Men often ask women who smoke on regular basis to give it up. Why is it that men cannot do the same and consider the same as an offence if faced with a similar situation by their women?

I was recently asked to tame down my smoking demon just for the day by a guy I really like to which I got really baffled up and the whole conversation turned into an argument. Is it that hard to accept someone who is slaved to a habit by choice? Or is it that I really had a chance at making a connection that could last longer than my cigarette, killing me in other ways but I let go of it?

Maybe my life will to have to walk the path same as Carrie Bradshaw, flushing down the demons in the toilet for good or going back to new ones waiting in my bag right now. The choice is tough.

The Happy Place

When the wind blow past the strands of hair whilst on the merry-go-round
The happy place was asking to be found
When the daylight smeared and the twilight came around
A place of serenity was conquered and crowned
When they said to rationalize free thinking,
Or choose between religious afternoon and a lustful evening
A wandering desire came along

The entrapment grew along the age, the sun and the moon stayed there
Watching the rage
As the memoirs of the happy place disappeared
And the mournful mundane living gathered
It was all barren, until that moment
When the lust for adventure turned prudent
And the journey to defy the vicar began

A long walk under with the crescent moon and a splendid sun
Burned and loathed in jealousy as the adventure turned into fun
Against the rules of sanity and pride
A journey began where these rules were unable to abide
The journey to the happy place it was called
An unchaste heaven and surreal to be mound
A momentary contentment and then the happy place was lost and found

– Nishtha Pandey

Remembrance of Self

This has always been hard, leaving that is. Confessing, living. Over the time, I have learnt to be strong and stagnant to face my fears, people and monotony. But there are times when my passion for writing burns to ashes in front of my eyes and I am so helpless, so numb to make a move to save it. This past year was an unwelcomed change in my ‘not-so-happening’ life. A new job, new people, old habits and older expectations are a really bad combination if I can say so. I am an extremely bad judge of character which is why I would not say anything about the people I interact with. But rather, let me just rant about myself, my problems, my issues – just me.

The state of mind I am in currently, I could easily come across as suicidal. The level of intoxication I do to escape the simplest task that requires any sane interaction or action for that matter is disturbing. Even then, the feeling of being drowned is taking over me completely. They say, happiness is a state of mind, why do we often wander away from that ‘state of mind’ then? These days, nothing seems to be making me happier. Not the company of people around me, not the intoxication I am obliged to take, not even my flaming out love for writing.

Amidst of all this, I stumbled upon some of my previous writings. These were dated to the time when I wasn’t even aware that I could use words to not only defy my existence but also save it. The times where I only used words to prove my superiority over my own silliness. The times where innocence was scattered all around like snow on the Christmas morning. Innocent childhood. I remember the times where innocence was what we craved and got. Today, I couldn’t care less about innocence. Today, it has all become about my needs, my wants, my wishes, my disappointments.

Pretty soon I will be 20 and when I look back to see what have I done all these years, I will be extremely crestfallen.  Yet, here I stand, alive, secluded and intoxicated. Sometimes, it’s easier to find a person to cure than self isn’t it? I question my own self a lot of time, do you remember yourself? I surely don’t.


Have you found me special
Have you found me nice
How about my hair, do you think it’s nice?
What about my eyes, do you think they shine?
I am killing a part of me with every passing second
I feel numb every time you stare
I know I am nothing what you desire
But I can’t save myself from this self proclaimed warfare
I seek revelation from the enemies
I give nothing to the ones I love
And loneliness seeks redemption from me
Resurrection and untouched scars they spur
How about now, have you found me special
Do you think I’m nice
Do you like my morality
Or should I cease my existence’s for all times

-Nishtha Pandey

Of Men, Dummies and More (Part II)

It’s been almost a year since I took a sadistic toll on the only possible sexual mate, well for the most of us. And here I am back again to be malice all over again. In the earlier part of ‘Of Men, Dummies and More’ I had written about the ‘Dummy Man’, here I would be talking about the same dummy man but with a twist.

Lately the kind of men I am being with, hear about and look at, have all been behaving like their female counterparts! No offence to my ultra-feminist friends, but the only difference between these guys and their counterparts is the one of them has child-bearing parts and other has none. I wonder if the men start behaving like women and women behave like women who would be on top of who and will Robert Downey Jr. become an extinct species?

I have known a friend who is exactly the kind of dummy man I have just described. I have known the man for all my life, he’s of an average look, average conduct, exceptional grades and a female brain. Quite frankly, I love the man that cries but only when Christian Bale breaks down at MTV awards not the kind of crying that my friend does, he is literally fits the definition of ‘Cry Baby’. Don’t get me wrong, I love this guy but he can lose a fight with my cat! A cat I tell you! I mean whatever happened to “Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota” (Man feels no pain). Although I am a bit against the extra hairy bear kind of a man, but hey a little beard wouldn’t hurt you, would it now? But I am definitely against the man that wax their legs and thread eyebrows!

I had previously spoken about Harvey Specter as an alpha male, although I understand it was a bit too harsh to expect the Zeus himself but a demi-god wouldn’t hurt every once in a while. I mean c’mon! Look at Chris Hemsworth or Benedict Cumberbatch for God sakes!

Men are an awfully confused species, they dream about Sasha Grey and behave like her at the same time. This isn’t an offensive post to the Gay community, quite frankly I feel they are more honest about their preferences and they should set an example for the man that cry when I don’t hang out with him, threads his eyebrows and loose a fight with my cat. And then there is Christian Bale, a man that is desired by everyone. Bale should make his own brand of Viagra I tell you!

Well, jokes apart. There soon will be a time when the idea of man and woman will be abolished if the act of Dummies continue! Down with the Dummy! Long Live The King! (Read: Bale)



All her life she thought she had mystical eyes
Everyone agreed with her, on the inside terming it as lies
As years passed by, her eyes grasped all the sorrow she was given
Left in despair, beaten and forsaken
Her eyes caught attention of many
They were described as magical and uncanny
The people ignored the desperation in those them
To a life full of sorrow she was condemned
The smile she wore on her face was a fake
The sadness in her eyes was written in her fate
Taunted by many for her beautiful eyes
Tears streamed down her face for every rose colored lies



If  man was born in no religion
Would he still think of sin
If he was born with no boundaries
Would the brotherhood be his kin

If  man was born with rules
Would he bring change
Or is it all just a question
We ask ourselves to merely be entertained

Clouds and sun never differentiate between us
They gives us rain and light without the boundaries and fights
Why does a man has to think before he love
Why does he calculate and then think of life

Boundaries have destroyed generations of life
Cowardly they behaved all this while
Unworthy to fight for right
They walked away from paradise

Nishtha Pandey