The relativity of Cousinism

Cousinism, as defined by me, is a terminology applied to the immaculate nonsense that is shoved upon you in the name of relativity. To explicate this further, the theory of cousinism refers to the fact that in a society bound by kinship, mutual bonding, bloodline and race, human beings are often seen relating to their fellow human being more closely than others when they are bound by certain traits like surname, children of siblings and bullshit.

As Benedict Anderson explains in his famous work  ‘Imagined communities’, the idea of a nation is based on the socially constructed notion of being a part of a particular group. There is only one human race and no matter how much you segregate internally, it is going to be just one big circle of humans in the end. The connoisseurs of the cousin theory surely don’t understand this. Cousins are just normal human beings who may be or not be your friends. Just because they happen to the children of your mom’s sister, dad’s brother does not mean that they are related to you in any way. More often, kids who have poor socialisation record end up having only their cousins as friends. It is like if you are a loser in life with no friends, here take some cousins and be happy!

Being forced into liking someone based on the cousinly parameters is absolutely insane. At times, these so called cousins have never interacted properly through a lifetime and bouncing them together at weddings, family get-togethers is not going to increase the kinship love in them. Facebook also happens to be a big culprit here. These days cousins judge you from you interaction with others on the social networks. They read your blog, every word of it and all they can understand and comment is that you fart sideways. I am not obligated to be polite to them over my friends just because we are related in the imaginary mindframe. I have invested good amount of time with my friends and my kinship lies there only.

In the sociological sense, a cousin is defined as is a relative with whom a person shares common ancestors. Then in that case, all of us have evolved from the common ancestor, Ape! Does that mean that every single human being is my cousin? If that is the case then it is comforting and unsettling at the same time. Also I read somewhere a few days back that all human beings are at least 1/50th cousin of each other. Hence the word cousin too is relative. It surely does not have an exact definition and that give me the prerogative to nullify the concept of Cousinism altogether!

So dear so called cousin, move over. I have plenty of other cousins in the world to hang out with and have a wonderful  life to share with them. I am freeing you from the moral obligation of being my cousin and vice versa. Stop interfering in my life unnecessarily and if you are too ashamed of the fact that I am your cousin, believe me the feeling is mutual and at the same time you might want to crib more on the fact that you had a cousin like Adolf Hitler and not me! I have defined it for you that we are related biologically and aren’t related  sociologically, so now I would highly appreciate if you understand the causal relativity of my space and time.


The color of warmth is orange.

Getting over it

Kites over flags, relations over nations, individual independence over state dependence, left over right. copyleft over copyright, human over religion, children over god, peace over war, solar over nuclear, travel over TV, experience over advice, hugs over kisses, dislike over hate, nudity over clothing, history over mythology, neon over matte, Lost over found, cook over clean, summer over winter, trains over planes, paper planes over paper boats, adopt over bear, intention over grammar, revenge over injustice, cat over dog, flight over caging, wink over blush, hamlet over city, charity over collection, bald over hair, listen over talk, feel over judge, dance over watch, fireflies over stars,  laughter over tears, pond over seashore, witness over rumor and work over drama.


Burning at the stake

are the

insides of  demeanor.

Setting fields on fire

is the

darker shade of somber.

All around is fickle,

all around is soar.

Never alone is sickle

More now, than of yore.

Owls are such majesties,

they crown the royal darker.

And those Owls are such majesties,

they royally crown the darker.

The Halo above this crown

is the thing sort after.

The wolves howl at the crescent

in a distant laughter.

Away and above the burning fields

The summer feels colder.

But on that very stake  it breeds

my silent acidic temper.




to the molten billows.


 of the highland gallows.

In the thin air

suffocates the mass.

But I look further above

and there is nothing but the infinite alas.

Crumbled paper balls

roll into sparkles

as the  sunshine guns

burst them to rumbles.

They burn before my eyes

and in this worldly vice.

At least I have a closer look,

much real and off the hook.


  1. I cannot tolerate the voice of Lata Mangeshkar.  It is too thin like a whining baby who incidentally has got all the tunes right. It almost makes me cranky. Most of her songs are cranky or they turn cranky midway. It is just the nasal pitch combined with sweet screams that Lata is made of.
  2. I have lived all my life in Mumbai and I dislike it. I prefer New Delhi over it a million times. If you are from Mumbai, kindly ignore this point because you will never get it unless you get over your ‘ I am from Mumbai grudge’ out of your system. Ignore. Just like how you ignore terrorists attacks in the light of the great ‘Mumbai spirit’.
  3. I think Jim Morrison was a mediocre songwriter and musician. All that jazz was about his attention seeking lifestyle. Inconsistent and reckless about everything and that’s what makes me wonder that all that gyaan about the universe in his music is just a sham. Some people are smooth talkers. He was just that.
  4. Most of the celibate priests I have met so far in life have sexual frustration in their eyes. Being celibate is a fucking show. Any girl can tell this, I am sure. There is nothing holy about them.
  5. Most people everywhere in the world can handle their drink but they take special pride in getting drunk and making a fool of themselves because it’s cool.
  6. I have never met a bad Pakistani being an Indian myself. I mean never and I have met a lot of Pakistanis in this lifetime.
  7. The most innovative and powerful graphic novels come from artists  born and raised in the new world order and not USA as perceived. They are not stuck to a particular style of drawing that is often seen in the western countries and also the stories are surreal enough in very groundbreaking real stories. Most western countries’ Graphic novels don’t have that.
  8. Video games can also have a calming effect on a person and not necessarily breed violence. I have spent my entire childhood playing violent video games and eventually I became a pacifist thinking of these games on a more existential level. So kindly hand over the gaming console back in your kid’s hand!
  9. Majority of the hippies are uneducated, cowardly, visionless people who lose themselves to crappy music and drugs. Junking in Goa is not called traveling the world, my friend! And you can get Moksha and Karma even on the toilet seat of your mobile van so stop all this philosophical drama! Do something productive. Being a hippie is not a real profession, you know. The real hippies don’t even want to label themselves.
  10. Burping and farting are perfectly normal human habits. It should be made official in public to do these things without any shame for it.  It is annoying to us today only because there is a social stigma around it. In your loved one’s company or your own company, you always do these things loudly. Now don’t lie!

I want to write but there is no inspiration tonight.


I have been seeking loneliness of the purest order. There is too much noise around. I can feel everyone’s curious eye peering through the crevasse of my laughter. Even I, am only making noise. Not laughing. The boys whistle at me and the girls wink at me. I politely refuse their advances. I do not want to be their beloved. I am nobody’s beloved but mine. I want to romance myself, just for a bit. It has been a long time.

My favorite part of the day is when the sky is a tinge of dark orange at sunset. Catching a glimpse of that masterpiece is no justice to it. If you look closer and feel harder, you can sense the fragrance of tangerine at this time. It has happened many times in the past, not anymore though.  I just don’t have the time or when I do have the time, I am not alone to treasure this moment. This has been bothering me to an extent that I pray hard to be left alone these days.

 Then all of a sudden, I learned a new word today. Hypethral. It means to be ‘wholly or partly open to the sky’. Beautiful. I believe that words will only find you when you seek their meaning. And I would like to be open to the Sky. I have been in part and as a whole seeking the vast solitude that the skies possess. It is also not about being alone, it is also about looking higher from where your eyes draw a parallel. I am looking up for something. I don’t know what it is as of now but I know it will find me just as the word found me today. It has started. I can feel it.

What you will never find on this blog

  1. Tags – I dislike tagging. For I am trying to get nowhere with this blog. It is not an ambitious commercial project that I have undertaken to prove to the world that I can write, I have ideas, can philosophize and can sound important and intelligent!  Secondly, I am not waiting to be discovered. This blog is too intimate an attempt for me and while I might be a Communication specialist, Journalist, Activist and an Environmentalist in another world, here I am just a figment of my imagination. Do not take me seriously in real life, please! If you have come on my blog, I want you to read all the stuff posted here and have your own tags for my ideas. Stereotyping my writing with tags is like limiting my thinking within the grasp of few words. Now I understand that all words have synonyms  that might not mean the same thing to the word itself but might have a little bit more to add to the concept as a whole and that is what I am trying to do here. Freedom of words. Pure freedom. Tagging loses the purpose of freedom of word ecstasy that writers experience.  And like how Margritte put it “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe“)’
  2. Feminist activism – I am a woman and that is about it. I am not frustrated at Men just because they happen to be Men! Also being a woman, I don’t feel the moral responsibility to be an advocate for my fellow females. I strongly believe in individual rights of human beings. Only if we saw all of us as Humans first rather letting our hormones get the better of us, the world would be a more egalitarian place. ‘Women are equal to Men’  ‘Men are equal to Women and ‘Men and Woman are equal’. These are three  very different sentences and concepts and I am NOT interested in decoding them.  Most of the angry/not angry feminist/ pseudo- feminist/ reactionary feminist blogs fail to even see this difference! But I am sure, one day they will get there. The reason why I am not interested in decoding these concepts is simply because I believe that I can concentrate my energies on the other ‘isms’ like Humanism and Pacifism better.
  3. Work – So like I said, I might be a Communication specialist, Journalist, Activist and an Environmentalist in another life, I will never discuss work on this blog. There is a lot to a person besides what they do to make a living. While I am immensely content with my job, my blog is another thing all together. All of us have multiple personalities. It is just a matter of time, we realise this and harmonise our living while maximising these personalities. But again curiosity kills cats and I am so feline, I will not let this happen on my blog! If you are curious about my life and what I do for REAL then please find me on Linkedin. No, I am not giving you the Linkedin account details here. If you are curious enough, you will surely find it yourself with a bit of diligence. The Internet is such a bitch! We all know of this. But then again, what is REAL?

That woman again.

She stood there.

There where I was her.

Where I stood before.

She falls with stiff feet,

her feat in defeat.

He did it again, he did it neat.

It is not about her

but  him.

She crawls slowly,

brushes off her whim.

Again, I enrage,

with her forage,

bandage her wounded feet

with  courage.

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