The Dirty Minds

There are certain events that get you thinking. The ones which highlight how humans treat fellow humans (the dirty minds), they peak my interest. The general debate on issues involving humans usually focus on why one person/group of people should be punished. Their acts are put down as gruesome, inhumane, or sometimes in bad taste. Their punishments however have a wider range, from instant civilian justice to castration and sometimes death (can also be read as genocide-the line between the perpetrator and the perpetrated is finer than you expect).

What is interesting about events like this is that the level of public outrage is usually not in direct relation to the level of the ‘crime’. Now that is understandable because human reaction does not necessarily follow the rules of rationality (it shouldn’t, because that would be against the rules of emotion). However, what I fail to understand is the basis for the approach taken to solve the problem. Because the basic structure of a problem is that it stems from somewhere. You can’t cut the stem of a (few) plant(s) and expect to solve the problem. The root still remains untouched. (please brace for the plant and gardening metaphors to follow)

I am often in awe of the human need for instantaneous judgement. We believe that it teaches everyone a lesson, that it serves as an example. We’ve all been to school. Lessons can be forgotten, in fact they are meant to be forgotten. I believe that as a society we need to start asking questions and get to the root of the problem. But don’t be hasty and cut off the root just yet. Maybe the problem has nothing to do with the root, it can even be the soil. (I warned you! )

I believe the only way to diagnose the problem is to ask a few questions.


Why did whatever happen, happen?

Is there scope for this to happen again? And again?

If yes, why?

(Ask these questions not on the scale of an individual, but on the scale of society)

Before I continue I would like to make it very clear that I am in no way justifying the act(s) itself, but I sincerely believe that along with delivering a message to the miscreants of the future, we must try and create a system where we can reduce the number of miscreants created in the first place.

It is too idealistic a vision, but it also targets too real a problem. Maybe the dirty minds aren’t the actual problem but merely a symptom of the general trajectory of change to follow. If so, this symptom needs to be weeded out before the dirty minds become our default setting and the resulting activities commonplace.

When history is the rest

​In the shadows I stand, hoping some day she’ll remember,

Remember the things that we used to be. 

And that we aren’t free, 

Not from each other, so as to speak.

It is unnatural, don’t you think,

Freeing yourself from a loved one?

If you had to free yourself, 

you were never actually bound,

Just the illusion hound.

Binding is not what we wanted to flee.

It was a phase, 

We didn’t have to agree.

Moments then felt like a lifetime and a lifetime felt too long,

The distance between us 

stretched out like a heartbroken song

(seriously, sometimes they are painfully long)

We caught ourselves down in the  pursuit to forget,

Falling deep into an abyss, 

Carefully steering clear of regret…

Time’s a healer and space the medicine, they said,

Well, a daunting task lay ahead!

The components of this had me haunted

In my defence, they’ve ridiculed many a great mind in my stead.

Days were sleepless, nights alight,

Even the thought of us embracing each other turning into a long forgotten sight.

We weren’t strangers, we couldn’t be,

Meant to be is what they say,

Apparently it only seemed so to me.

I didn’t want a memory, we hardly created any, 

I wanted us to create history, 

And history it was.

For each our own,

In ways different more than many. 


What does it mean when someone breaks you? How do you feel?




Or simply unaware?

You definitely don’t feel full of yourself! (apologies) You feel empty, like somebody just took a part of you, something so dear that even the ones closest to you didn’t get a whiff of, something even you didn’t know existed inside of you,  you. It doesn’t matter because it’s already taken away from you the moment it is born. It’s like taking a new born child away from it’s mother.

You finally catch one glimpse of yourself, of a part that is truly you, but it’s gone before you know it. It’s the ‘what could’ve been’ that kills you, not the ‘what is’ or ‘what was’.

Interestingly, you don’t break until you volunteer. Don’t regret it.


Home. It’s an abstract term. You realise it when you’re not at home anymore. What is home they ask? Family? Work? Is home a subjective term? Does everybody even have a home? Mind you I didn’t say a house, I said home.

When you’re outside and you’re still as comfortable, then that’s probably home. What is weird is when you start feeling detached while thinking about what you would conventionally call home.

It is then you start thinking about why some people stick on to their houses, which they claim to be their homes, for so long. Is it the fear of finding something worse, or the loss of hope through bitter experiences, or just lack of initiative and drive?

If you think about the concept in its entirety, ‘home’ is the constant in a mans ever changing life. Man resists change, and if he can’t resist the change, he can always go back home,to familiarity, to the illusion of safety, to love, at least that’s what they call it.

If man didn’t have a home, if man went with the flow of the tide, he would be in the midst of constant change. But it is familiarity we seek, to help build trust, to help build a comfortable wall to help get away from change.
Hence even, the concept of family.

Family was created to help provide a support system amongst those who are compatible and are familiar enough to be comfortable. It is in this comfort that we seek solace, hide and believe that we will find order in this chaos we called life.
So what is home? A concept? A physical location? Or a cheat code to live?!