Mera Jahan.....Lots of thoughts, lost in words

The London I... (Part 1)

2011-01-05T17:57:00.000-08:00

(This has been long due, but has been shortened due to this.)

When you're staying away from most of your closest friends, you tend to talk to them a lot about the place(s) you live in and then start comparing them. At least I do. While browsing through this blog for an old poem, when a glance at the yearwise count of posts made me realise that I'd left my "writing"(?) to rot in a rut, I thought of beginning with such a familiar and (in exams' terms) an easy topic. The kind which would guarantee at least 7.5 or 8 on 10; where you could throw in heavily opinionated perspectives without giving two hoots about being politically correct or about using idioms like "giving two hoots"; and masquerade a set of incoeherent sentences as an introduction. The Topic, by the way, is the city I've been living in since May 31st 2010: The London I've seen so far.

The early charms aside, every place like every other thing (except me :-D) has its own flaws and it's these flaws that consume most of your post-welcome-cribbing-time-slots, only to wear you down eventually and make you percieve these very same flaws as "features", rather resiliently. I've not lived long enough here to reach that stage yet, so mine is a view taken from somewhere between the Awe and the Argh points in time. (well, slightly leaning towards the former, I'd like to believe)

The most striking thing about London, I feel, is ironically its Subtlety.

The buildings, despite having an imposing built never really intimidate you; mostly because of the colours they wear....or rather their refusal to wear any. And for some strange (non-perversive) reason, I love this look. A bit bland at times, a bit worn out around the corners; Antiquated on the exteriors, but modern from within; standing out in themselves, but perfectly blending with those next. No matter how high they rise, they're always easy on the eye. The style; though present, is almost shy.

The fashion sense is largely subtle as well. Black and grey comprise an overwhelming majority (allegedly attributed to the weather???). So much of these two colours that you will never need to switch on the Monochrome mode while shooting the “crowd” in a tube station. The rest, the tiny minority (across genders), provide you a glimpse of EVERY shade of EVERY colour of the spectrum. So much that even peacocks might die of shame. As if to avenge the the repetitive chants of the crowd, these few scream out their individuality so loud that you'd prefer not getting the headphones out of your ears.

To maintain consistency across all senses and not trouble the taste buds, the culinary skills have also been honed to be disappointingly subtle. Put simply, the food here is devoid of any salt, sugar or spice. The so called Indian restaurants (mostly run by Bangladeshis) are the biggest farce since Arundhati Roy. And unsurprisingly they're both treated with great respect here. An unexpected benefit out of this is that I've learnt a bit of cooking. I was actually going to make it sound like Tata building the Taj Mahal Hotel on not being allowed into one by the Brits, but my humility compelled me otherwise.

Reading whatever I've written till now has instilled in me a strong urge to stop immediately, but not without that contradictory parting touch. Its not very tough; as for all these subtleties, the only thing that you won't find to be subtle at all is the expression of love (and if you're lucky enough, even lust :-P).

A brief rant in great despair

2010-02-17T09:39:00.000-08:00

So, all that talk of Vision 2020 was only hot-air. With the current state of affairs, retaining our identity as a nation itself would be nothing short of a miracle. We're losing everything else and that too in a hurry. We're losing our earnings to inflation,education to reservation, interests to opportunities, our principles for comfort, concern to casualness, future to petty politics, leaders to undeserving families, Soldiers to Naxalites, states to power struggles, journalism to sensationalism, land to China and even arguments to Pakistan. All we can pray for is to not lose hope.

$#IT happened one night

2009-08-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

"Heard that?????" he whispered.
"Hey...Did u hear that?" he whispered again.This time with more emphasis on "Hey" and "hear".
Varun was never known for his patience. His volatile temper was the stuff of comic book villains. But this was not the time for anger, he must have thought. It was around 2 in the night. And he found the rest five of us fast asleep. Only Selva, who was lying near him responded with "What?" in an irritated tone. Irritation switched sides now. Varun asked "Did you hear that or not?". "No , Say it again?" Selva retorted. "Say what??" Varun was puzzled. "Say whatever you wanted me to hear and let me sleep" Selva said. Varun after a few expletives explained that he heard a constant sound for the past five minutes: as if someone was knocking our window.
Selva looked straight at the window. It was open. He stared back at Varun and asked him "Who would knock on an already open window?"
Varun fumbled for these words "Someone who doesn't need it to be open...or may be its someTHING"
Selva's expressions changed again, so drastically that it was noticeable even in pitch black darkness. Selva somehow tried to shrug his doubts and asked Varun not to scare him. And that he was "already scared liked shit after the long and intense chit-chat session on Ghosts" which we had just finished. "And by the way where's the sound now ? Now go to sleep ...remember we have a match tomorrow. It's a must win. And please let me dream about strategies for the match. This time I've promised not to give a single six in the slog overs." Varun wasn't
listening to anything of what Selva said after he asked for the sound. He was keenly trying to listen if the sound was still there but to no avails. It had stopped just before he woke Selva up. Setting aside his fears he tried to erase the entire discussion and sleep tight . He wrapped himself from head to toe with his blanket and shut his eyes only to hear "Tak ...Tak... Tak... Tak...."
It all began at around 11 pm. We had just finished watching a movie on Andrew's PC and were about to begin the next, when someone suggested that we watch a Horror movie. It was holiday time and the almost empty hostel wore a eerier look than it usually does. I got excited and added that even bad horror movies would have seem scary because of the empty hostel, provided we don't mock it from the beginning and let the effect seep in. Others bought the idea pretty soon. But not fate. We din't have a single movie of a genre even close to horror . It din't seem to matter. As Andrew was searching for a movie on his PC, I began narrating a story of how my friends once watched RGV's "Bhoot" (no pun intended) at around midnight and after that when they went to the beach, both their bikes stopped in front of a "haunted" bungalow. The bikes wouldn't start for fifteen minutes despite their best efforts. Finally, they pushed it for some distance and then tried and surprisingly both started. Wasn't scary enough they felt, only till the incident repeated itself while their journey back home.They were so terrified that they din't
speak a word after the bikes stopped for the second time. They just pushed the bikes enough to cross the bungalow , started them and sped back home. As if replicating what had happened, none in my audience uttered a word after I'd ended the story. Vinay, as usual, tried to crack a PJ that ,again as usual, backfired. The momentum was slowly building up, Everyone started narrating their stories. Each trying to outdo the other in the story's goriness and in the same breath, its authenticity.
Varun was the only one who silently kept listening to all of them. How was he supposed to know that he would figure in an even lengthier horror story of the "yeh-to kuch-bhi-nahi-hai" mode.

All those stories must have ran in a fast-forward mode when he heard the sound again. This time he din't speak a word. He was waiting for someone else to speak out. But none did. He eventually nudged Selva, woke him up again and signalled him to quietly listen to the sound. But the moment Selva opened his eyes, it stopped. Just before he tried to return to sleep and finish off the remaining three balls of the the over he was bowling in his dreams, Varun nudged him again indicating that the sound had begun. Selva did not react at all. But Varun could hear it loud and clear. With no pattern and no rhythm, it just kept on going. but Selva's indifference was
making it spookier. Varun got up, switched the lights on, and woke everybody up. Even before he could start speaking, Andrew blurted out "Don't tell me you saw a ghost or heard her "Ghungroo ki awaaz???". He had spoken for the rest of us as well and so there were slight giggles which stopped almost abruptly when Varun narrated his part of the story. It seemed like the silence before a storm. We all broke into thunderous laughter, taunts and every other derogatory mode of expression. Vinay, in a rare event, was laughing at someone else. And Kasi pointed out even that. Soon we were all exhausted and back to our beds. Varun wasn't allowed to speak any further. But he was relieved to an extent when he thought that atleast now he had
more people awake with him. And that he could sleep before the sound returns and even if it does, with more people awake, the chances of someone else hearing it were also high. Also, Varun was farthest from the opened window. There were two double cots arranged to form a right angle and two mattresses laid on the ground, where Selva and Varun were lying. I was on the upper berth of the cot just in front of the window and Vinay was on the lower berth. Andrew was on the upper berth of the other cot. We should have reacted first, he thought. His state of mind was pretty apparent when he refused to switch the lights off. "We don't mind. Its you who is not able to sleep" Vinay said. After trying hard for five minutes Varun finally decided to switch the lights off. But he wasn't going to get out of his bed. He got hold of a hockey stick lying nearby and then reached out for the switch. A few unsuccessful attempts and embarrassing expletives (from Andrew) later he managed to pull it off( or is it push???).
The cycle began again. He could hear it; others refuted his claim; he tried convincing. Somehow, things calmed down for a while, when all of a sudden he woke up screaming like a mad man. Apparently, he heard a very loud noise just near him. As if someone had banged the steel table with a hammer. Nothing changed in our responses. He could not believe that no one else could hear it. Andrew confirmed his fears “ If you were scared by the stories, you should have asked us to stop or if you were shying from that you could have at least left the room mid-way and gone to sleep, instead of hallucinating weird things now and trying to scare us.” Varun was tired of arguing and now was looking for proof to confirm either of their claims. Then came the next bang, the loudest till now. He nervously inspected the table. There was nothing spooky there. It had only two objects. A huge lock and a bottle filled with water. He showed us and tried to explain that someone could have thrown them both on the table and thus the the sound. “It was me” Selva interrupted “who kept them both there when we were about to sleep and you are the only one who got out of the bed and you are the only one who’s hearing it all. So ..please stop this shit….Will you?”
Varun, shocked by both the sound and the ridicule had some water and was about to leave the room to refill the bottle. We were still not moving. “I think you guys are scared by all this shit. That’s why no one’s getting out of bed. Isn’t it?” He shouldn’t have said that, he would later realize. Kasi got up and went with him till the water cooler. Varun entered the room and placed the bottle on the table at the exact place from where he had picked it. Before Kasi could get in, a very heavy voice in a hushed tone called out “Varun, come out here son”. That was more than enough for him to get hysterically loud “See..I told you…Now he’s calling out my name….You
surely heard this or you are all deaf” . “Are you deaf?” asked Kasi “the watchman is calling you… go …and tell him that we are not drunk and we’re not watching any movies”. This was the most difficult of all situations. We all had to control our laughter, for if the big fat watchman heard us, we would ‘ve to hear a loads of BS from him on discipline. Somehow, we managed to shut up. Though we knew that he wouldn’t do us any harm. Varun had befriended him after one such lecture.
Meanwhile, we'd decided to spare him of any more insult and acted as if nothing had happened. The lights were already switched off by Kasi, so we couldn’t enjoy the forlorn look that adorned Varun’s face. Moments later there were two loud bangs in quick succession on the same table. This was followed by another one on the floor and a continuous knock on the window. 'It could be the lock and the bottle again on the table and then the bottle might have rolled on to the floor' he wondered. He remembered that he himself had kept the bottle on the table. A shiver ran down his spine. But he was determined to not react. He din’t utter a single word for the next fifteen minutes, despite the knocks. Slowly his blanket slid downwards. He was holding it as tight as possible, but it came off his face. He was still not giving up and kept pulling it back. All the while, keeping his eyes shut, like a child afraid of Gabbar Singh.

This time we couldn’t control our laughter.

Note: Some names changed to retain my identity.

My Bus Rout(e)ine

2009-06-30T12:08:00.000-07:00

This happens everyday. I start from my cubicle in office about fifteen minutes before the buses are scheduled to depart. But still I fear not finding a seat or finding the last seat. A few rounds of inquiry later when I near my bus, I join a queue to make an entry in the trip sheet before boarding the bus. Suddenly people rush in from somewhere and after confirming the bus route, pretend as if the queue is full of Hollow Men and Women. A few Taunting looks and words
later they acknowledge us, poor souls. After that disgusting disgruntled feeling of not being able to use certain words for such people when I get into the 'partially' full bus, I'm greeted( ?) by dull ,familiar faces, almost all tilted to one side or the other and at various angles. They're on the phone, and most of the rest are using headsets. I start looking for a seat. The last row is vacant. The row before that with dimmed lights hosts a couple(the usual one). All other empty seats are reserved by bags (mostly ladies), empty tiffin boxes, id cards and even human beings. People here somehow find ways to allocate themselves with required resources. I find myself a seat. Only to find a disappointed person at the next seat. The reason for the disappointment might vary with gender but is very understandable and relatable. Within seconds I feel like I'm at different places at the same time. A call center with multi-lingual customers, a 3-D psycopath movie and don't know what not. The noises are so many and so varying that it takes sometime for the brain to filter out the useful ones and throw a "No results found" message. I try to get the windows opened. But the Windows (expectedly) open very slowly. Seemingly, they're very tightly shut and only that's why the person next to me is "can't able to open it". I move to another seat to accompany a bag on the neighbouring seat. For some relief when I peep out of the window, I notice a a few girls strolling around, with tilted heads, of course. Most of them look sad, a few smile, on the phone (i.e.) as if it was a favour , a non-functional requirement. With five minutes to go all of them get into the buses. One of them replaces the bag near me. I'm not that disappointed. Soon, she gets a call. And the rest as they say is Her-story. I suddenly get an idea to note down so many different events around. What'll I do with it? I ask myself. "Write a blog" pat comes the reply. "Who' s going to read it" I wonder. "Who needs to?" I decide. I start typing on my mobile. I'm not accustomed to typing on the handset I'm using. I struggle for quite some time. Meanwhile, the girl nearby gets curious, pushes her seat backwards and tries to read. She can't . She couldn't have. My handset's display is totally messed up. Only the first and last word on the first and last lines are visible. She resists a murmur. I control my smile. And stop typing. After sometime, when the road gets better again, I 're-start'. By the time I finish typing all this, the bus reaches my place. I get down and look to cross the road. I wait for the next bus to pass by. It stops just in front of me. But I still don't cross. I see the bus no. and then look for the driver. He's busy looking at the door, making sure all the girls get down safely. Nothing wierd, except that it's the same driver who had directed me to another bus saying that his bus was not supposed to stop at my place. As I crossed the road, the driver starts honking, but stops when he notices and remembers me. A sigh induced smile later , I wonder if he might have felt ashamed. but he wouldn't have.

After all, this happens everyday.

Numb-errs

2009-04-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated with numbers. And I'm very lazy. Thus began my exploration of shortcuts to simplify maths. Since addition and subtraction were the simplest of all, I tried to search shortcuts to ease multiplication and division. This curiousity continued with every new concept that we learned in Maths. Percentages, percentages in terms of Profit and loss(or is it the other way round) and so on. My friends din't help either. Vivek and me used to calculate percentages for all the toppers. We'd always be stuck with some girls' score. As they were very secretive about marks (like some boys). But still managed to get most of it from reliable sources. And my first real Eureka moment happened after I learned the rule for divisibilty by 3 and 9. The rule: For a number to be divisible by 3 (or 9), the sum of the digits of the number should be 3(or 9) or its multiples. every number I came across was put to the test. I used to spend all my evenings with my Dad at the shop. And sitting there, I started applying the test to the numbers of the Vehicles that passed by. My challenge to self was to test as many numbers as possible. Just for the heck of it. The hunt for the shortcut begun. Soon , I observed that adding 9 was of no use. So I started leaving out the 9s. And then started forming 9s first and then counting the rest and so on. I was very excited to find out something new about numbers on my own. And told it to a few friends of mine. They asked " So what??". I could never answer that question. Not Yet.A few years later when all this seemed childish, I lost interest. More so when I heard my Dad's friend stating my "acute Observation" in a matter-of-fact manner, while discussing Numerology. (Probably, that's a reason why I hate numerology). It was common knowledge, it seems. And so it ended there.Last week I met a friend of mine after a long time. While in flashback mode, I told him about this. He said that CAT material has a lot of such shortcuts. So instead of searching the already -found and widely known techniques, better read it. He wasn't as discouraging as the last line seems to me. But that night, it all started again. This time it was (or were) multiples of 7. I found a pattern in the their sum of digits till you get them into single digits. And the next morning multiples of 13.

Here it is:

7---------7

14-------5

21-------3

28--10--1

35-------8

42-------6

49--13---4

56--11---2

63-------9

70-------7

77--14---5

84--12---3

and so on..the pattern was 7,5,3,1,8,6,4,2,9,7,5,3,1,8,6,4,2,9,7................

With 13, its a bit more complex though

13-------4

26-------8

39-------3

52-------7

65-------2

78-------6

91-------1

104------5

117------9

130------4

143------8

The pattern this time is with the alternate numbers 4 8 3 7 2 6 1 5 9 4 8 3 7 2 6 1 5 9.

What was still unknown to me, was the use of these patterns. I could not think of using it aywhere. Keeping that disappointment aside, when I told this to another friend of mine all he said was "Read CAT material, there's more useful stuff there." This was far better a response than the one that I feared. " So what????"

Fear has a new address

2009-03-22T02:58:00.001-07:00

That was the note he left. Vijayan hadn'tshow any signs of worry, fear or despair. So when he disappeared from office all of a sudden, the shock was too rude. Everybody was spreading around their versions of the story. But none of the reasons seemed convincing, to me at least.
A week passed by and by now the fear was raging epidemically as more such cases of sudden disappearances started surfacing. All chit-chats were centred on this single 'issue'. The new IPL ad seemed prophetic now. Even at home, my roommates shared similar incidents involving their colleagues. A lot of these cases had untraceable causes ( and subjects) and each of the rest had numerous causes speculated. The most prominent of them; getting two '2's. Initially it was only the appraisal rating that people were applying this criteria to. With time and a rising headcount people started getting hysterical about the two 2 's theory. Some started changing their phone numbers, others shifted their cubicles and all in the process were crossing unattainable levels of stupidity. "Catch 22 situation" It was called. I asked one of my group of 'believing' friends about how this was related to Vijayan's note that had the number "13" and not 22. Someone said " 3 minus 1 ...Two..""Fine..but where's the other two?" I retorted. Mr. Five pointer answered " 3 plus 1 is 4 and two 2 s are 4..that's it." I was stunned. "You better stay away from it" he added.
Shocking or Ridiculous??? I was confused. as scenes from movies like Number 23 and 13B started running through my mind and I now starting counting my TWO bits..None since I'd started working..But ...my Birthday ...22nd DEC...Suddenly a shiver as cold as Titanic's climax ran down my spine. But that eternal optimist in me still felt that the Logic seemed skewed. But that seemed normal around here, especially with Numbers. People considered 3.99 as 3 and then blamed Arithmetic Atyachar on weirdly shaped curve. (It's got to be the only curve that I hate.) And the rusted Irony...they call the process NORMALisation.With pretty decent appraisals so far, that devil seemed too far to be feared. This was something else, I was sure. With my eyes fixed at the code ahead and mind counting the number of 'if' s and 'else if' s of the possible dreaded logic, I had entered an infinite loop. The loop broke with a "New Mail" pop up. Hoping for some relief I opened the mail only to realise that it was like a spray of iodised salt and black pepper being showered on an fresh and open wound of the size of a fist with an adamant middle finger. Our project was being scrapped and all of us were to be released this week itself. Before I could drown into sorrow I turned towards my Teammate for some company. Rakesh with his consoling but confused smile asked me "Next is what??" and started giggling. I used line that quite often after I'd picked it from a Samsung ad. And the last I had used it was two weeks ago. Vijayan had just got released and was going to....Before the sound of that Thunder could end and the loud BGM begin, I leapt over to Vijayan's place to check his note. The one that was written with blood coloured ink using MS Paint. As I took the print out in my trembling hands, I realised that all I had to do was connect the dots, all of them. The joy of solving the mystery rammed straight into the chances and fear of me being the next victim of the curse. You can run from it. You can even hide from it. But you can't sit on the BENCH.

"I'll Manage"

2009-01-18T01:38:00.000-08:00

One bright morning,
in a chariot of gold,
with four white horses,
all of the racing mould,
I set out on a journey,
towards the prosperous west.
Leaving the clouds behind,
we surged without any rest.

"This looks very pretty,
Easily, I'll manage" I said.

While I enjoyed the ride,
with nowhere to steer,
the horses kept leaping straight,
not knowing where to veer.
One by one each of them,
had started and now raised the whinnying.
But I wasn't going to stop,
Not till I was winning.

In their pain, I saw no reason.
"Weak horses. But I'll manage" I said.

With the sun setting down,
and light fading away,
I began to ponder,
if we were losing our way.
To be where I wanted to be,
a map I needed to plot.
In my haste and gleeful frenzy,
this I most certainly forgot.

Ah!! these blind horses
"How'll I Manage? " I wondered.

Adding to my woes,
came a frightening jolt.
All of a sudden,
we came to a halt.
Devoid of any thought,
some help I brought.
A ridiculing laughter later he said
"Why have cubical wheels you got?"

Dumb horses or Mute Mules?
"However, I'll manage." I said.

Dragging along and
struggling throughout
We barely scraped and
made our way out.
I could've planned
and got round wheels,
let the tired horses
cool their heels.
I was warned enough,
but went for the gambit.
Though the mistake mine,
had others pay for it.

No matter how much the damage,
I always told you "I'll Manage"

Good Old days

2008-09-28T11:56:00.000-07:00

No nostalgia to be poured. Just a rant on a very disturbing trend I observed and was wondering if it was only me who's feeling this way.
From what's happenning around me and what I read and watch on TV, somehow I get a feeling that being "BAD" is the "IN" thing. The meaner, the cheaper you speak, behave, the higher you raise yourself on the "Youth" qoutient. They seem to be no spoilt or misguided youth. Instead they seem to have deliberately chosen to wear this "Attitude". Roadies , Splitsvilla (from whatever little I've seen) seem to be the torchbearers of Gen-$#@$%#...Almost every second word on the show is beeped. What should have been a measure to hide the expeltives has now become a sort of attention seeker. I wonder if the people who speak all those words actually count theirs and are appraised on that criteria. Almost, all my friends use expletives (including me). But make sure it reaches ONLY the intended audience. Here, its a totally different story. Actually the reverse. Speak as much ill as possible of all those who are not present. And thats one thing catching up a lot. I myself have witnessed many such instances. Criticising or making fun is one thing and ridiculing and humiliating "friends" in their absence is another.
And of course this "I'm bad" trait spills on to every other aspect. Social conciousness is something that's become as extinct as Ganguly's antics. On asking my friend to not litter on road, I got one the most ridiculous responses one could ever come across. " Come on, its public property and I'm public" . That Abhishek Bachchan's punchline from Guru could be misused to this extent would 've been the last thing that even Mani Ratnam could've imagined.
Even if these things seem trivial, how about people preferring to read "Chennai Times" over Times of India on the day after (the nth) Serial Blasts.(they aren't any different otherwise). I could go on and on with this rant. All I could gain is being titled as "Preachy". And tat reminds of a superb Public Servive Message that used to air on DD
"Shaitan banna aasan hai,
par kya insaan bane rahna itna mushkil hai??"
Roughly translated as:
"Its easy being evil,
but is it that difficult staying human??"

The Nation’s Call

2008-09-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

(Following the HR people’s policy of boring a person to the core, but beginning with another boring game, let me start with discussing a very popular game.)

The most popular game in our country is obviously not Cricket. Even those disinterested in cricket indulge in this game called “The Blame Game”. (On a more serious note).The current state of affairs in our Nation is a consequence of this never-ending game. Many campaigns have been launched, even more movies have hit the screens, but they don’t even seem to touch the self-built wall of ignorance that surrounds us.
And so, one fine day, I decided to ‘call it a day’ from this game. Then began, the phase of self- introspection. Umpteen questions were hovering all over my mind. Questions that I was I forced to ask myself about the world around me. Questions that we all (CITIZENS of this Nation) need to ask ourselves. “Do we demand our rights???” , “Do we perform our duties??” , “Are we actually aware of them???”, “ What exactly is the reason for this mess??” , “Finally, What is the solution to all this???”

Then, came the answer form within. “Nationalism”. This was the one-word answer that echoed from my conscience. . The Media refrains from using this word fearing the “Right wing” tag attached to it. But have the media ‘Intellectuals’ ever tried to ‘Press’ for a debate on the issue of Nationalism. The lack of the feeling, or, misuse of the word. Never !. Forget it. Anyway, this a very popular feeling , but a dormant one. Nationalism needs to be cultivated in proper manner among the easy-going GEN-X.

By inculcating Nationalism, I do not mean that each one of us should sacrifice comfort and start a crusade against Corruption or plunge into politics because that again needs courage, which most of us lack. But we can at least add an additional thought before every deed of ours. I feel that if most (if not each one) of us start considering our acts in the perspective of National Interest, even the Heavens would envy our Motherland.

National Interest lies in the less talked about deeds like Dumping Garbage in a dust bin, saving water and obeying Traffic Rules to the highly publicized issues like Corruption, Terrorism etc. Now, I cannot put an end to these, neither can you. But together, WE can at least reduce it.

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness”. Most of us would‘ve heard this, few of us would’ve seen it and even fewer of us would be following it. The reason is that we never thought the consequence of dumping garbage on the road as we were busy discussing the shine on foreign roads. It costs us nothing to keep our surrounding clean, but making it dirty costs us, our reputation, tourism and most of all our Heath. There’s no use of being a Wealthy nation if we aren’t a healthy one. Saving water and obeying Traffic rules don’t seem to be issues at all. Are they?? But just imagine the lives that are lost because of the Draught and speeding, out of control vehicles. I believe we can save a lot of them if we actually practice what we read in those umpteen forward mails or blogs.

Don’t I have anything good to say about our people? Yes, of course I have. There are Indians figuring in ‘Richest on Earth’ list and their count is next only to Americans. But then, why does one among every three of us live (and may be die too) below poverty line. Again, we all know the reason. On one hand we refuse foreign monetary aid and in fact help out neighbours during disasters such as the 2006 Tsunami and on the other hand we pile up NATIONWIDE Flood Relief Scams. Today, as onlookers we blame the officials, but tomorrow (not the immediate one) when we are in-charge, we do the same. It’s a strange paradox that most people hate corruption but almost all follow it. (This virus seems to be multiplying at a rate faster than our population). A nationwide crusade is a fading possibility, but we can do our bit by at least not demanding a BRIBE, when we are the babus.

Another menace that we face today is Terrorism. The new age war has shifted from ‘highly’ militarized border to civic locations like places of worship, busy markets, crowded buses and even more crowded trains. The danger is now even greater as the threat seems to be coming from within the Nation. That these crimes involve sophisticated technology and impeccable planning shows that there is no dearth of Ignited minds. Only, the fire here is destructive. And the leaders, whom WE ‘elect’, instead of extinguishing it, are using the heat to bake their cake. This fire, if used in National Interest can definitely fuel our Success journey.

Issues like these make a long list. But listing them down is of no use, until we understand that since we created them, we need to solve them as well. The time has come for us to stop discussing solutions, instead, be a part of it. The time has come for us to come out of the Individualistic mindset, instead, be part of a Nationalistic Movement. The time has come for us to erase the welfare circles that we drew around our family and friends, instead, consider our actions in the context of Country’s welfare. The time has come for us to devote our senses to the Motherland. The Nation’s call is quite loud and clear. Lets wake up, open our eyes, listen to the call and answer it with more than just a

JAI HIND !!!

Fences all around

2008-09-28T11:47:00.000-07:00

Longer than the list of castes in our country is the list of problems that we face. One such problem that resurfaced recently was "Regionalism". Regionalism is like a tumor. It stays in an organ and grows, but kills the organ as well as the entire body.

I find it impossible to concede to the idea of earmarking areas of single nation for people of different races. Its an insult to the whole notion of our Nationhood. How can anyone treat our country like a toilet. The whole meaning of being citizens of one nation, saluting one flag singing one anthem is fed to dogs (pun intended).The politicians who advocate it are the only people to gain from this national disease.
Being the shrewd creatures that they are, they present it in a different form to the masses. Wrapped up in poetic phrases, qouting some equally stupid (but now dead) "great" and voice modulation (rather animation...either of which are Oscar worthy), they feed it to the scores of jobless wannabe-saviours of the regional identity.

As in the case of all our other problems, the responsibility for this one too is Collective. Its we, the people who feed the growth of these micro-organisms and causing this dreaded diseases. Now, its already an epidemic. Highly Prevalent during the election season, but dormant to the level of extinction, during the post-election "negotiations". Among us are the people who get swayed by such ill-intended thoughts, people suffering from an identity crisis. People deprived of self-pride. Its these drowning people who in desperation get hold of a sleeping python's tail , taking it for a rope, and come out only to be swallowed by it one day.
And WE, knowing it all, with our coward mentality that doesn't allow us to treat these people the way they deserve, reamin mute spectators untill affected and mute-sobbing-victims thereafter.

Groupism is practically unavoidable in such a diverse culture as ours. But its this diversity that provides us an oppurtunity to learn, to know about each other and imbibe in us the best of of all cultures and call that the great "Indianness". Instead, today with our divisive politics, we've screwed it up to make it the greatest "Indian Mess".

Since the scope of recovery seems limited only to a few patriotic movies ( supported by Rahman's rousing scores), we can just pray to not get affected by it. The fence is much more safer. And so all we do(other than reading blogs and writing one too)is just wait there and watch. The longer the wait, the heavier we bear. To help, there are a lot fences around as well.

Incredibly Indi(a)fferent

2008-09-28T11:40:00.000-07:00

Yet another blast. And the concerns, as always, varying across the spectrum. For the "authorities", the casuality count. For the Police, names of possible terror groups based on modus operandi. For the government, another set of answers, which now sound like rhymes recited by Nursery School Children. The Opposition looking for a lead in the Blame Game. And the Media, busy thrusting microphones into the graves of the dead and wounds of the injured. Terrorist look-alikes explaining us the sequence of blasts using 3-D Live animation. And pointing out why the blasts did minimum damage by claiming "only "23" lives. Just short of suggesting Maximum impact techniques to the planners. Having video teleconferences with people who have nothing to do with the blast and are sitting in the next room with a different background image. But this time around, their "impact analysis" seems to have found a new victim.
The "IPL". Will the IPL matches in Jaipur be cancelled. Will Shane Warne return? Will the Rajasthan Royals back out? I was always aware of how insensitive people in the "Showbiz" were. But this was probably the worst I've ever seen or heard of. Whats next...May be the smoke from the bombs, becoming a "grave" environmental concern. Also, suggestions of a less polluting one, instead. And, the media's not alone here. Most of us are no different from them (except these people(http://specials.rediff.com/news/2008/may/14slid1.htm). The only difference, could be that where they are bothered about idiotic things, we seem to be least perturbed. As if nothing happened. We've found a new default addendum to "Forgetting" : "Moving on" and rephrased "indifference" to "the spirit". The most we think of doing is posting a condolence or vengeful blog. This is neither one of those.
Was just wondering what if we...
Use the media again to create a stir similar to what happened during the "reservation" issue. Chain mails, to start with, debates on various forums , sort of accumulating lava to form a volcano, that explodes instead of erupting. Protest marches, Demonstrations look very cliched, but might create a ripple effect and eventually guarantee tougher action. Or atleast some action. Though, the anti-reservation agitation din't yield the desired results, it atleast wasn't a surrender. The cause did lose out. But the fight stood for more than just the cause. It depicted that we might still have it in us. And one more thing to remember is that it had divided the youth into two. If we could fight so vigorously among ourselves for our bread, can't we fight together with an manifold stronger vigour for the sake of our blood.Even if doesn't yield any immediate effect, it would certainly not go in vain.
It would impact the world around us in many ways. Firstly, send out signals to those who planned it , that Indian public unlike its polity does not stand for a meek surrender. Secondly motivate atleast the honest but demotivated crop of cops to get back to action. Thirdly, the unity and magnitude of anger towards acts like these could actually draw the swayed lot of local "symapathisers" to rethink their stance. Chances even if dim, do exist.

Since the first and the third "effects" won't be of any practical use to reduce the risk to our lives( That's because people involved in such acts don't remain human and so are immune to any attempts of redemption), we can only count on the second one. But, there's very little that the cops can actually do. As, the hindi-movie cliche-combo goes "Kanoon ke haath bahut lambe hain" par "bandhe huen hai" by whom: of course "OUR" politicians. Though all of them are faces of the same coin, the ruling lot is probably taking its hunt for alliances, too far. Just figure out, the MoS, Home Affairs, ignorant query " Is the SIMI banned? " and the chief minister of another state saying that there was no ban on SIMI in his state. The list of examples could go on. It would , as always lead to the common root cause of almost all evils in our country. Political scenario. And the only remaining option is to Change it or Perish.

No Man's Land

2008-09-28T11:36:00.000-07:00

And here it comes. So from now on, allocation of "forest land" to a Hindu Shrine's Board would require consent from the Muslim population around, which they would never give. Even though it might provide more pilgrims and eventually more revenue to them. The reason : Loss of Identity. Kashmiri Identity. Whatever that means. Even if that means something, how is that related to the government allotting land to the Shrine Board. Is it something unprecedented? Have there been no land allotments to Madarsas, no financial aids to Minority institutions including rights of extra-constitutional reservations for that respective community, no subsidies for Haj. And if all these did exist why did the "Hindu" Extremists never protest. Just imagine the slightest of protest on any of these issues and the first possible reaction: the entire media up in arms firing one column after the other about secularism (pseudo, of course); debates, discussions all involving left intellectuals( or as one of my friend once said..Left intellectuals are those whose intellect has left them). And now when an entire state is protesting against land allotment to a HINDU shrine's board, in the name of protecting "Kashmiri Identity", what does Kashmiri Identity then stand for? Is Kashmir the sole property of Muslims living there and in the neighbouring country. What about the Hindu kashmiris. Are they not part of the "Kashmiri Identity"??? This makes look MNS goons like saints. At least they've not (explicitly) brought the question of religion with their demand of Maharashtra for Marathas.

The media is busy discussing the Secular nature of the Shrine and its discovery and how the politicians are fuelling the divide (which clearly means the divide existed) etc. but are deliberately brushing away from the main issue. What about the people there? The protest is not only by the party workers. without the support of the local people, the protest cannot be as fierce as it is. 3 people died and over 50 injured protesting allotment of forest land for the construction of temporary facilities for the pilgrims. No plans of building a temple, nor demolishing a Mosque. That's so un-Indian.

Now that pops another question. How Indian is Kashmir? Definitely there are kashmiris who are as Indian as one could get. But there's definitely another chunk of locals who don't identify themselves as Indians. And, that chunk is by no way negligible. Every now and then, there occur incidents that shows the strength of this section. The support for Afzal "Guru" is one such incident. I don't understand what exactly do these people want. To join a failed state or to add another example of a failed state. Because, any state found on religious fanaticism is doomed to "Pakistan-ise".

Every time I discuss this with my friends, there's always a mention of the atrocities committed by the Armed Forces. My question is "Why is there a need for the Armed Forces being posted there in the first place?" And, this is in no way, the-Chicken-first-or-the-Egg-First? type of a question. For the answer, just look around, at the so many other states where the Army does not commit atrocities’. That's because, there's no need for their deployment there. This in no way washes away the guilt of the crimes by the few in our Armed forces. Just wanted to point out that, the root cause if addressed will obviously eliminate the chances for every other issue caused by it.

Its up to our leaders to do it. But who cares for the "door ka fayda", when the "nazdiki nuksaan" is Power. Forget addressing the root, just take the easier route : Find the famous terrorists, the ones who call themselves separatist leaders, Invite them to talks and then talk , talk and just talk without making any sense. The life of the Army men who sacrifice it to protect what they consider as their motherland holds no value to them. To value it they themselves need to posses qualities of Men.

(This was written over a month ago. Even as the situation worsens in Jammu & Kashnmir, my views remain the same. Only, now I have few more things to say about a few Kashmiris
When Farooq Abdullah doubts if staying back after partition was right and is still not being called communal, why should those who ask people like these to go to Pakistan called communal.
When Sajjad Lone calls Amarnath Pilgrims as his guests, why is he not asked for an explantion. How are Indians guests in their own country? And then threatening to go to Muzzafarabad:
I'd say "With pleasure. But please don't return. India has enough of enemies within. A few less won't ease our troubles. So you can still be happy there."
To those who say "Jaan De denge magar zameen nahi denge"...You can add these words as well..."Magar aadhe se zyaada Kashmir pakistan ko denge aur phir bhi Hindustaniyon ki jaan lenge." )

And the most dreadful thing is that such behaviour has become so normal, that we've start accepting it as just another Indian trait. Whether it is Union ministers ridiculing ban on Terrorist Organisations or ChiefMinisters defying it. Its all part of the new India. From a few men without spines we're soon turning into a land of no MEN.

Yeh jo Zindagi...

2008-06-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

Yeh jo Zindagi,
hum roz jiya karte hain,
Jang hai yeh,
jo hum roz lada karte hain,
kabhi haarein, kabhi jeetein,
kabhi maarein, kai baar marein,
par jo suni lalkaar,
phir talwar uthaa liya karte hai.

jisne diya saath,
uske saath chale chalte hain.
jise dena ho maath,
us par hum chaalein chalte hain.
kabhi modein,kabhi mud jaayein,
kabhi badhein, kabhi ruk jaayein.
par jo dikhe raah,
phir kadam badha diya karte hain.

apna ho jab samay,
paraaye apnon mein badal jaate hain.
paas jo dikhe paraajay,
woh apne aap phir badal jaatein hain.
kabhi bilkul akele,
kabhi yaaron ke saath.
kabhi bichde mile,
kabhi saathi chodein saath
par jab tak rahe yaarana,
farz apna hum nibha liya karte hain

kya hain zindagi hamein mili,
aur kya hum jiya kartein hain.
kyun jang banakar,
is se hum roz lada karte hain.
sada sadbhav, sada sambhav,
sada satya, sada haathon mein haath,
jo jiyein aisa jeevan,
wahi maran ke baad bhi jiya karte hain.

FALL in love

2008-04-18T05:26:00.000-07:00

Lost in those lovely long locks,
Drowned in those deep dark eyes,
Stung by those sweet and cute smiles,
Charmed by those double dimpled cheeks

Forget the rest of space and time,
Live this moment now.
Fear not about what happens next ,
Be Brave, Fall in Love.

Warning: People in love please don't read further. This is not intended for you.

With different people having different perceptions about love, let me make it clear that in this article, the word is used in a specific context. This is to ensure that the reader(s???) doesn't put his/her love in this context and get it all wrong.

So...Love...A four letter word that rules many in thw world and the worlds of many...?A Total Farce. The real word is ...Its not a four letter word. Now, thats for another blog.
People get attracted to the opposite gender(exceptions ignorable) based on the looks(most of the times), sometimes its a good natured help that brings them close. Sometimes, its the Chemistry(rather...biology) between two people, how they love to chat with each other, share common interests, if not, then they call it opposites attract. Anyway, the attraction is always there, which slowly turns into a bond. Some life long,some long-term, some short-term and some for a even more shorter term(term is after all a relative..well..term).
At most times the attraction is one-sided. For Ex.; A guy decides that "She" is perfect for him. Usually his friends do that( ...that she's perfect for him). Then he wants her to know what he feels about her. But before that, he has to know if she thinks the same..about some one else. In that case, displace him from her ...yes.."Heart". Then slowly occupy that place. create that chemistry. Try out different solutions. During all this, give mild indications to the people around, that he likes her(which they already know, but don't give a damn). Now that he's forcing the clues, people are forced to gossip. And somehow the gossip reaches her ears and this new reaches him. So, taking cues from the loads of Hollywood action movies he'd seen (once upon a time), he finds his strategy "Attack is the best from of defence".
He proposes. She may or may not accept. if she doesn't , then he starts it all over again, with a beard this time. After n number of rejections and insults, which seem insignificant compared to the "gift that she is" to him, she finally accepts and then they live happily everafter...Or do they...Well.Kahani mein twist(s). Now, they suddenly realise that they have parents to be convinced. (Eloping is always an option, though.) And thus begins another long process. All this time they remain worried about how they are going to succeed in their love(while, this was supposed to keep them happy). Finally, the D-Day arrives. No, not the marriage. the approval from parents. (After rounds of round table conferences). Then, marriage is reduced to just another formality.The thrill's already lost. But the love that they find in each other is incomparable to all this. After all, they were Made for each other.

Really???
May be even the soap that i use and I are made for each other. Initially I din't want to use it. I had just heard of it. One fine day, this salesman comes to my house and tells me all about the soap.But, I was already using one which I thought was the best for me. He compares both and tries to convince me to buy the new one. I reject it. He pursues this process relentlessly and then I get convinced. Once I start using it I find that its the best for me...I use it for the rest of my life. I think, as per recent trends, if we compare both cases, the relationship in the latter lasts much longer. A bad example really...Something like comparing Apples to Soaps.

Coming back to that process called love. Not everything what I mentioned in the process happens all the time. But i suppose every love story has a bit of it, and the rest involves an even more complex process. Very hard to believe those cases where there's a spark both sides at the first sight and immediately they both fall for each other(like in movies ). But with an overwhelming majority not falling under this case, I wonder on what basis they claim that "Love just happens"..Pyaar kiya nahi jaata,bus ho jaata hai. Better change it to "Pyaar kiya nahi jaata, karaaya jaata..woh bhi badi mushkil se".
The process is a less boring one , but almost the same in its spirit when it comes to Arrange marriages, only that there's a filtering process that takes place. Community, Horoscope etc. But, eventually the bond is formed. And a Strong one at that. The logic , somewhat idealistic but is quite sensible to my sensibilities. That this bond is formed on very less(if not zero) expectations and also with a mindset that the expectations need not be fulfilled, hence, with a readiness to adjust. After all, we don't select our parents, brothers and sisters. Don't we love them for what they are. And , nowadays I don't think if parents force it on us. Alteast, on those as well off,as to be reading this blog. Instead of wooing someone with antics and behaving like someone you never were and later on revealing the true self and giving an impression that there was a long-planned deceptive plot behind the downfall of ...Ok.( No offence intended.)Thats a never ending debate..So..Switching from the general perspective to the personal perception.

Anyone reading this, this far would have already formed this villainous(especially...the heroine's Dad) image of me. Nothing to disagree with. only that, there's a Flashback tat formed this perception.

Flashback begins-- Our shop was amidst the only busy area in Port Blair. I spent most of my free time at my shop. We lived nearby; just a minute's run away(time recorded).Since the shop was very small (Burma bazar type),I took care of it, whenever my dad had to go somewhere out. And since all the people around were my Dad's friends, there was nothing to fear. It was during this time that I heard a lot of stories from my Dad's friends.I was not the intended audience; they used to have these long gossip sessions every now and then. The topics varied. But there was one subject which ,I observed, was very frequent. Andamans being a mini India, was ideal for inter- marriages. And so couples eloping or their parents quarrelling or their relatives hiring goons to battle it out etc was a very regular event. That my shop was just a stone's throw away from the Police Station(I never tried throwing any, though) din't help either. After listening to all that prose and poetry in the movies about love, I din't find anything wrong in it. Nor did those 'busy' story-tellers. But this topic would lead to a discussion on "how well their(the lovers') parents had brought them up". They would blame everything on "Parenting". "Kya bachche paale hai, yaar? jinko Maa-baap ke izzat ka bhi khayaal nahi aaya !!!" And that made me wonder, what these men would think when they meet that 'parent' someday. The cordial behaviour would be on the outside, a farce, a mask. but, inside, they won't have even an a.u.(atomic unit) of respect. What's the parent supposed to do? Bow down to the Child's wish, sooner or later. Or totally abandon the relationship or force an arrange marriage. In any case, the bad parenting "tag" stays on. And what if the 'parent' comes to know of such an opinion on him. A sensible person would regard anyone who could opine like this as very cheap and not bother about his opinion at all. And thats what most parents do.(They have to).
If I ever happened to be in the position of that Son, i wouldn't have given a damn about what others think of my life. But... the person in question happens to be my DAD. And, thats impossible for me to bear. Anything, but not an insult to my DAD because of me.Even if its from a person who's not worth considering.
I know, all this sounds too naive. But how else do you expect a 10 year old to think. And this is how I felt when I was at that age.I had decided to never create such a situation for my Dad. And have not found any convincing argument to change it . The child in me had made that decision and the SON in me stands by it. Flashback ends----

Now that I have seen so many people around me with their love stories, I feel that I must have done some great deed in my 'pichla janam'(pona janmam), that I got such a mindset and consequently; No additional worries; Not having to pretend as someone else; Not being answerable to anyone to;Not paying huge Mobile bills;and the biggest of them all; Not having to like Shahrukh movies. With most of these people FALLing in love, I decided to rise. And so it will be.

Truth

2008-04-18T02:31:00.001-07:00

Truth is like the sun. Its there for everybody to see. We go all around it and yet blame it for inconsistency. We don't see it all the time.Sometimes it awakens us. Sometimes its only partly visible and the rest remains hidden. it slowly but definitely rises and then comes a time when it is right above our head. So intense it becomes, that we tend to hide from it and in the process neglect it. And then at times it is soothing and a pleasant experience. Some people wait for this moment of joy. But there'll always be another person on this very earth, who'd be evading it at the same instance. Much like the sun, truth too fades away into oblivion. Only to awaken someone else. If you don't see it again, its you who dies. It remains immortal. Its there for everyone to see. But not at the same time and thats the reason why there is darkness.

A little trick

2008-03-24T09:42:00.000-07:00

What you like a lot, you gradually start loving.
YOU make it a habit first and then IT becomes an addiction.

The trick, I feel, is to like many things and love a few.
Make good things a habit and get addicted to none

(Note:When "It" is a living thing, get addicted to only one.)

Never let go.

2008-03-24T09:28:00.000-07:00

Not every face is a person to you.
Not every person is a friend to you.
Nor will every friend always stay beside you.

Not every companion of yours will you tell your problems to.
Not every such confidant 'll suggest a solution to you.
Nor will all such advisors help you solve it.

Not all helping hands will hold yours forever.
The ones that do, are the ones YOU never let go.

Three Sixes and a Four...

2008-03-24T06:56:00.001-07:00

Probably, the first time in my life when I did not play TO WIN. And WE Lost. Obviously, it did not hurt me. But I forgot, rather neglected that there might be someone in my team who was plating to win that day. And it turned out to be one my closest friends. That a loss in a 6 over cricket match with a boundary line shorter than my Bowling run-up, could become so serious for him to write a blog and not stop with it , shocked me.
I'd always play my game very seriously. To the extent of getting angry with myself when I don't do well. I'd also get angry with others whom I feel were not committed to the game. But that Frustration would stay with me for not more than a few hours. Atmost, it would last till that night's dinner(or post dinner) discussions. That's it. And then I move on thinking that Expecting others to be equally committed to such trivial things as a tennis ball cricket match is, well, very Foolish.

Slowly but surely, I learnt. First, stopped howling at others' mistakes and cut it down to stares. Gradually the stares reduced. Now it became avoiding eye-contact for a few seconds. Then it became an appreciation of the least effort and finally to "There's always a Next time". I don't know how many of my friends realised this. But such a change did happen. I never expected them to recognize this change, coz for them their "He-won't-change" thought was firmly etched into their minds. Equally firm was my resolution of not gettin upset with things like these anymore. The reason: It was of no use.

Now, this little thing has come a full circle with me at the other end of the fence. My friends getting upset with me for not being serious in a game which was never meant to be serious at all. A Cricket Match without a Toss. That We'd bat first was decided by us(me and my friend, who later on made it only me) and accepted by the opponent team(They asked us: "Do you want ot Bat first or Chase???")

For a moment just imagine being hit for 3 sixes of the first three balls(one of which came of a edge) and then missing the outside edge by inches, only to be misfielded by the keeper and giving away another four runs as byes. And then, giving the keeper a SMILE. The last act is quite impossible for (atleast) Me to do when I play TO WIN. But then, There's always a next time. And I thought that others were thinking the same.

Only, later I realised that those who performed well in this match were displeased with my 4 sixes in an over (Oh...tried hard to conceal the fourth one, but gave up).
What should I do the "next time" such(3 sixes followed by four byes) a thing(God Forbid :-)) happens. Stare or Smile ???

Well, I'll live up to their image of "He-won't change" and then Smile :-)

Ahmiyat???

2008-03-24T06:54:00.000-07:00

tanhai gham deti hai,
aisa logon se suna hai.
tanha hain hum ab tak,
gham ke baare mein ab bhi sirf suna hai.

kahaniyon mein padha hai,
ke pyaar kiya nahi ho jaata hai,
aaj-kal to samayrekha tay hai,
vilambh hua to nishaana badal jaata hai.

saathi ke khoj mein,
bhatakte hain log dar dar,
haasil karne waalon ki
durdasha ko dekh, kaanpta hoon main thar thar.

baaton mein mithas chidkein,
aur chehre par nakaab pehen lete hain.
ek doosre ko samajhna to door ki baat,
svayam apna vyaktitva bhoola dete hain.

zulfon, hothon aur nigahon mein kho kar,
saat janmon ka vaada karte hain.
punar janam aatma leti hai, roop nahi,
yah sathya magar bhool jaya karte hain.

chathri jaise rishton ka kya,
jo barsaat ke saath goom ho jaaye.
rishte hon to kalaai ke us dhaage ke samaan,
jo tootne par bhi nishaan chod jaaye.

na hum chaahe barsaat mein saath,
na humein kalaayiyon mein nishaan chahiye.
hum thaamna chaahein unka haath,
jinka saath humein umr bhar chahiye.

apni tamannaon ko bhool,
jaane tyaag mein vo kaisa sukh paayein.
ek aur mahatyaag unhe tab karna pade,
jab apne bachchon ki shaadi unke liye khabar banke aaye.

bhagode premiyon ka kya,
unhe bahaa le jaa rahi pyaar ki kashti hai.
bhugatthe to unke maata-pita hain,
jinke izzat ki uththi arthi hain

Marriages ARE made in Heaven

2008-03-24T06:53:00.003-07:00

Our first meeting was very short.
I din’t speak much. I’d better not.

Then we began meeting more.
I spoke less, but heard galore.

Though in the same office,
We met during post office hours.
The weekends were no more mine,
They were all OURS.

My parents fumed,
When they came to know.
But I was not able,
To say a firm “NO”.

Marriage seemed the only way out.
I was in no hurry, but that’s what “they” were discussing about.

Finally, one fine ‘Saturday’,
The D-Day arrived.
And now I had achieved,
For what I’d always strived.

I was happy and no more worried.
Coz my Project Manager was getting married.

So, no more staying late and working weekends.
Here, begins my Fairytale as my nightmare ends.

The Golden Days

2008-03-24T06:53:00.001-07:00

The Cricket in the rain, the fall and its pain,
The fights bitter and sweet, the victory and its treat.

The evening games of hide and seek,
When sorrow was spelt in Latin and Greek,

The window panes that broke with Bangs!!!!! ,
every week, saw the rise and fall of new gangs.

The discussion on our impossible dreams,
that ended nowhere, but started with ice creams.

The gossips about the movie superstars,
that were lit by the moon and a few bright stars
.
The little affairs and the 'Talk of the town',
that made some smile and others frown.

The joy of flying the very first kite,
and the fun when others fight the flight.

The big fat neighbor and his mango tree,
when stones on the roof were the alarm to flee.

The paper boats that sailed in the rain,
and their bulky wreckage that blocked the drain.

The 'Didi' s stories starring the lady's ghost,
and the rankings of which frightened us the most.

The fancy gifts that birthdays used to rake,
and the pride of having the biggest slice of cake.

And then...the Football in the rain, the fall and its pain.....
Gone are the Golden Days, they'll never come again.
But their memories bring a smile that hides all pain.

Life is ...

2008-03-24T06:51:00.000-07:00

Life is to walk,
with someone to talk.

Life is so rare,
with someone to care.

Life is to win,
making others grin.

Life is to laugh,
or you've wasted it half.

Life is to achieve,
only to give.

Life is to ENJOY,
don't ask me why !!!