Losing Them, Finding Me

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

So, I would write a blog post on myself. I just had a skirmish with a friend who has known me for 16 years. And I look back on all the people who have come into my life and have been with me, loved me, partied with me, eaten with me, stayed in my house with me, known my family, created bonds of friendship—and then one day just decided to up and leave.

The friendship and the skirmish that I had today did not quite end the friendship itself, but that was because I stood my ground. And I always do, actually, because what happens with me is that I am a very honest person. I say things the moment I feel them, especially when I’m around people that I’m comfortable with and whom I think know me really well. So when they retaliate in indignation, it surprises me, because I think that they already know who I am. The way I behave shouldn’t be a surprise to them, and they shouldn’t be offended by it.

But that’s how it works, I think, with people—because they can’t be honest, they can’t be open, and they can’t address an issue when they’re thinking it or when they’re feeling it. So they store it inside and, in some way or the other, I feel that it comes out in the form of an outburst: a filling up of indignation, a filling up of animosity that surfaces when one least expects it—at a certain word that I say or at a certain experience that I narrate or talk about.

That being said, I have always prided myself on being someone who speaks his mind, and also being someone who tells people the truth—or at least my truth, the way I see things. And I communicate it openly and I communicate it well, because I have a thing with the way I speak: I can really, really talk, and I can express what I’m feeling very lucidly, very eloquently. I think the best part of me is that I’m honest. Sometimes I can be brutally honest, uncaring about how other people feel, which may be a negative on my part.

I also tend to think that people will relate with me and interact with me on the same page as when I first knew them. But as I have grown, I have realised that people grow too. I think I make a mistake in assuming that they stay the same. They grow up and form different opinions; they form a certain pride of character, a certain development of personality, which I take for granted. I don’t always understand that they have evolved into something different from what they used to be. So I interact with them at the same level that I used to at the get-go. I don’t take into consideration the fact that what I could say to them, I can’t say anymore. Because if they talk to me in a certain way, I expect them to keep talking to me in that way. But dynamics change, and I think that is my drawback. I don’t see people changing and I don’t change the way I deal with them over time. Maybe that’s the problem.

I have now come to a point in my life where I can say that I have also become extremely saddened—and apathetic, probably—towards how life is. I’ve realised that it can get really, really depressing, and I’ve had so much loss in it that I have become hardened by the fact. And I don’t care if I lose people along the way, because I think that the loss is not mine.

I have come to respect myself a great deal and to realise that people who are honest are few and far between, and people who are brave enough to speak the truth—or their own truth—are very rare. I am one of those people. I give of myself, I give of my time, I give of my energy, I give of my emotion, I give of my own space, I give up my private spaces, I give up time, I give up my home, I give up certain relationships that I should be paying more attention to. But I address the needs of everybody and I try to please everybody. I used to do that a lot, and I don’t get that in return. I need to, I think, stop doing that.

I was preparing for my 25th anniversary. I’m completing 25 years with my partner, and I thought of giving a large party, calling people, and celebrating with them. But I realised—after celebrating my 50th birthday this year—that a lot of people are not really appreciative of me. And I don’t seem to understand why I care so much. I am beginning to understand that I shouldn’t be caring so much.

I’ve come to that stage in my life where I feel that it’s all right to choose the people that I want to be with, and to cut off the people that I do not want to be with, those who bring me pain and problems. So I thought that I’ll spend the money on myself, on doing things that bring me happiness, and not on making a big do and letting everybody know that I’m celebrating my 25th. Because, eventually, it doesn’t matter, and they don’t really care about it. They just want a good time, and I’m tired of giving other people a good time and not having a good time myself at the end of the day.

I hope this makes sense. And I really don’t care now if I lose people—because if they could be lost, then it really wasn’t worth my time anyway.

Strays Get Relocated. Rapists Roam Free.

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

There have been widespread protests across India—and even abroad—against the Supreme Court’s cruel, senseless ruling to remove stray dogs from Delhi NCR. Animal lovers and activists have hit the streets, shouting, marching, getting detained, and still refusing to be silenced. Why? Because this isn’t just about dogs. This is about justice, compassion, and calling out the rank hypocrisy of a system that pretends to protect but in reality scapegoats the voiceless.

The Protests They Want to Dismiss

From Ramlila Maidan to Connaught Place to Karol Bagh, hundreds of people came out demanding the withdrawal of this order. Their slogans were clear: sterilise, vaccinate, care — don’t cage and kill. The police, of course, were ready. Activists were dragged, shoved, even detained like criminals — for daring to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.

And it’s not just Delhi. Mumbai, Lucknow, Chennai, Jaipur, Siliguri, Bengaluru, Pune, Ghaziabad — all saw protests. In London, Indian expats stood outside the High Commission, because cruelty travels across borders and so does outrage. Almost 4 lakh signatures on petitions in a matter of days — and yet the Court calls itself the voice of justice?

What Protesters Are Actually Saying

Throwing lakhs of dogs into overcrowded, filthy shelters isn’t “management.” It’s mass cruelty. It’s death by neglect. Sterilisation and vaccination work. They work everywhere they’ve actually been implemented properly. But our governments never put real money, infrastructure, or honesty behind these programmes. This isn’t about safety. This is about appearances. About pushing a problem out of sight, so middle-class guilt can be tucked away with the dogs themselves.

The Numbers They Don’t Want You to Compare

Yes, rabies deaths in India are tragic — between 5,700 and 18,000 a year. But do you know what else happens here? I was in shock seeing a disabled woman being chased by men on bikes. Then I read what happened to her. Then I read the story of a 19-year old who was raped and murdered gruesomely. And guess what the numbers are? Over 31,000 rapes are reported annually. Over 4,00,000 crimes against women in a single year. Murders. Dowry deaths. Honour killings. Domestic abuse. Suicides from persecution. And those are only the reported numbers.

Tell me — where is the suo motu outrage from the Supreme Court then? Where are the urgent orders, the midnight hearings, the threats of contempt for inaction? Why are dogs punished for existing, while women are told to “adjust”?

The truth is unbearable: dogs are easier to cage than men are to reform.

Also, there has been a notable case in India where a dog saved a woman from harm, including an attempted rape. In Vasai, a brave stray dog reportedly saved a woman from a horrific attack by a 7-foot-tall assailant, preventing the crime. This incident highlights the heroic intervention of the dog to protect the woman from the attacker.

Additionally, there are other instances where pet dogs have come to the rescue of their owners or women in danger, including one case in South Delhi where a pet dog foiled a robbery attempt on a woman.

These incidents demonstrate dogs’ significant role in protecting humans in dangerous situations in India.

The Shelter Lie

Delhi has nearly a million stray dogs. The city can “shelter” maybe 4,000. That’s it. The maths is simple. What they call “sheltering” is just a polite word for mass death. We’ve seen it before — disease outbreaks, fighting, illegal culling. Shelters become graveyards.

And yet the government wants us to believe this is compassion? Spare me.

The Real Problem

The problem isn’t dogs. It’s us. Our greed, our overpopulation, our endless sprawl into every patch of land and forest. Leopards enter cities, they’re killed. Stray dogs live among us, they’re caged. Always the animal’s fault, never our own.

We talk about development, but our policies are built on cruelty, corruption, and cowardice. And people who speak for animals are mocked as “jobless” or “sentimental.” As if empathy is a weakness, and apathy is strength.

What This Protest Really Means

This isn’t just about stray dogs. This is about who we are as a people. Whether we choose fear and cruelty, or whether we finally grow the courage to coexist with the beings who share this land with us.

The protests aren’t going away. Neither is the anger. Because we know the truth: India doesn’t have a dog problem. India has a humanity problem.

Farewell to Terence Stamp: A Regal Villain and a Fearless Diva

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Today I received the sad news that Terence Stamp, an understated yet immensely distinguished and refined actor, has passed away at the age of 87. 🌹

Old age catches up with all of us, but this news struck me with a terrible sense of pathos. Terence Stamp was the actor I first saw as the antagonist to Christopher Reeve’s Superman. I was five when I saw the first film, and seven when I saw him again in the sequel as General Zod.

His Zod was unlike anything I’d seen before—commanding, regal, and filled with such dignity and menace that it left a lasting imprint on my young mind. For me, no later version of Zod ever came close. Zack Snyder’s interpretation simply didn’t have that same majesty, much like how Henry Cavill, in my opinion, could never quite capture what Christopher Reeve brought to Superman. But that’s just me, shaped by the magic of those formative years.

Bernadette

Of course, Terence Stamp was not just Zod. Years later, I saw him in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert—playing the marvellous diva Bernadette. He was born for that role. He brought elegance, courage, and sheer chutzpah to the screen, and for me, as someone connected to the homosexual subculture, it resonated deeply. To witness the same man who had once embodied the ultimate villain now shine as a gutsy, glamorous drag queen was extraordinary. It made my admiration for him reverberate through my life.

Hearing of his passing today brings with it the sadness of recognising that the people I grew up loving are slowly leaving us. That’s the way of life: people pass on, generations shift, and the torch is carried forward. I look ahead with interest at David Corenswet as the next Superman and Timothy Holt as Lex Luthor, but I can’t help but look back with gratitude at those who defined my childhood.

A Career of Depth and Range

Terence Stamp’s career stretched across six decades and showcased his extraordinary versatility. He made his film debut in Billy Budd (1962), earning an Academy Award nomination and a Golden Globe for his portrayal of the idealistic young sailor. He cemented his reputation with chilling performances in The Collector (1965) and later moved into international productions, including Fellini’s Spirits of the Dead.

In the 1980s, he appeared in Oliver Stone’s Wall Street (1987), proving his ability to remain relevant in every era. A new generation came to know his voice as Chancellor Valorum in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (1999), and he never stopped surprising audiences with his range.

From swinging London in the sixties to blockbuster franchises and groundbreaking queer cinema, Terence Stamp moved seamlessly between worlds—always with refinement, depth, and magnetism.

Eternal Impressions

For me, he will always be remembered—not only as General Zod, but as Bernadette too. A legend who embodied both power and vulnerability, menace and elegance.

I hope the world remembers him as fondly as I do. I, for one, always will.