Mystique Soul

She

2011-12-15T12:19:00.002+05:30

It was 9:00 am when she woke-up slowly in her pristine and cushioned bed, a fuzzy daze hanging over her eyes and seemed reluctant to leave. The whiteness of the room nearly blinded her and she squinted. She tried to get out of bed but the searing pain in her head put her back to her position. She fell back onto her pillow, swimming in dizziness and gripped the blanket, trying to stop the ceiling from spinning. After sometime when the ceiling stopped spinning and the dizziness faded, she turned her head and looked out through the large window near her bed. She pushed herself into a sitting position and got up to go towards the window and fill her lungs with fresh air. Her legs felt stiff and refused to move as if they forgot to walk.

She looked out of the window. It was a sunny day and the sky seems to be void of any obstructions in the form of clouds. The temperature was a comfortable 23 degrees as indicated on the wall in front of her building. The street below was bustling with people of different ages; surprisingly all dressed in blue jumpsuits just like hers. Some were playing, some relaxing in the morning sun and some having their merry way. She also wanted to join the crowd below and enjoy the lovely day.

She turned around to find the room to be in a mess. Her favorite painting was lying on the ground, the chair was toppled. She tried hard to recall what happened the previous night but she failed miserably. Then she saw her. She saw on the other side of her bed was her 4 year old. She seems to be awake and in pain. She looked pale, her lips were dry and cracked, and eyes were buried deep in her eye-sockets. Her hair was all messy and her hands were shaking. It looked as if she was trying hard to breath. She quickly ran by her side and tried to help her. She didn’t know what to do. She tried to open the windows to let the fresh air come in, but surprisingly the windows were sealed. She ran to the door and tried to open but it was locked from outside. She ran back to her and saw red colored liquid flowing from her nose. She didn’t know what to do. She started screaming for help to all the people below but no-one seemed to hear her. She started banging the doors hoping someone would come and help her. She could not locate the phone also.

Suddenly in one corner of the room she saw a camera. She pulled the chair and climbed on it and started pleading to the camera hoping the one who is watching her would come. She started running around the room, looking for any medicine or medical kit which might relieve the child from the suffering. Finally the room opened and 3 men rushed in.

She said: “Yes, she is there, she needs your help” pointing towards the bed.

The men didn’t look that side and started walking slowly towards her. One of them asked: “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m, you need to do something about her.”

The man said, “I think you need to come with us.”

She shrieked angrily, “What do you mean? You are going to leave her there?”

The man grabbed her hands firmly and told, “We believe you are having a nervous breakdown. There is no one on the bed.”

She turned back to see and she could still see her. “Noooo” She shouted and something sharp pinched in her shoulder and her world turned into a tunnel of darkness.

The man picked up the pile of papers hanging from the bed and wrote:

“Subject has had continued panic attacks that have worsened considerably and she refuses to take medication.”

The True Daughter

2011-12-06T17:41:00.000+05:30

The story is about a small middle class family of Mrs. Kalyani Iyer who has recently shifted to Bangalore after the sudden demise of her husband. She has 2 daughters Swati- her own daughter and Padma- the step-daughter. Padma has always been an eye sore for Kalyani. She cursed the day Padma was born even though both were born on the same day. Every time she saw Padma, Kalyani would be reminded of her husband’s betrayal.

It all happened 20 years back when she delivered Swati. Mr. Sharat Iyer who was supposed to be on her bed-side was away citing that he had a meeting. Actually he was with his other wife who was also delivering but with some complications. After few hours when he walked into the clinic with Padma, he noticed that Kalyani was still unconscious after delivering Swati. He kept both his daughters together and waited for Kalyani to wake up. Sometime later Kalyani woke up to see 2 kids in the cradle. She stared at Sharat inquisitively. Sharat told her about his mistake and how his other wife died while delivering the infant. Kalyani was shocked to listen to all this and hated Sharat till his deathbed. Now that he is gone she had forgiven him as holding grudge would not mean anything. From that day she hated Padma and treated as a perfect devilish step-mother. On the other hand, both the daughters were very close to each other and had the heavenly sisterly love flowing. Swati used to treat Padma as her elderly sister. Swati was doing her graduation while Padma’s education was stopped by her mother after 12^th citing it would be a costly affair for 2 girls to do graduation and there was no need for Padma to study. Padma never complained. She has always been the obliging daughter taking care of all the household chores. She used to get her share of love from her father and Swati. Still she always craved for the motherly love and care. Swati disapproved of such behavior towards her sister by her mother but it all fell on deaf ears. Swati was determined to do something about it but what, she didn’t know.

One day while unpacking the luggage, Swati happened to get her hands on her father’s diary. She called Kalyani and showed it to her and asked: “Shall we read what Dad wrote?”

Kalyani agreed and both sat comfortably on the bed to go through the diary. Swati asked if she should call Padma also to listen to it. Kalyani rejected the idea and instead asked Padma to get 2 cups of coffee for them. Before Swati could protest she asked her to start reading. Diary had mostly events pertaining to his daughters. How one is treated like a princess and other like a servant. He had also mentioned how he feels miserable for not being able to do anything. After going through many pages at one page Swati stopped. Kalyani asked what happened. Swati was not reading aloud and all the excitement while reading previous pages was gone. Kalyani saw her eyes were moist. She asked her, “What happened darling? What is written here?” Swati handed the diary to her and left the room crying.

Kalyani was shocked to see what happened and picked the diary slowly to see what made Swati so upset?

“Kalyani, it’s been so many years that I wanted to let you know the truth. But I’m scared that I might lose you after your 2 heart attacks. I can’t keep the secret anymore, so I am writing it down. Someday hopefully I will gather enough courage to hand over the diary, for you to know the truth. Padma is your own daughter and Swati is your step daughter.”

The moment she read this, the world came crumbling down in front of her. She felt a big lump in her throat, she was going to choke. She could not bear the fact the Sharat has cheated her yet again. She was furious, angry, disappointed thinking of how badly she treated her own daughter; her own blood all these years. She could not bear it. She controlled herself to read further.

“After your delivery, when I entered the room, I saw you were still unconscious. I thought I will explain and you will accept both the infants graciously. But you could not bear the truth. So when you asked which baby is yours, I lied to you, I thought after few years when you would get fond of your step-daughter, I will let you know the truth. That time it would be impossible for you to hate Swati and both will get equal motherly love. I hope to tell you soon and see my both daughters happy.”

Kalyani broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. After sometime, she went out and saw that Swati was at porch crying. She went and sat next to her. Swati turned and hugged her tightly and started crying. She asked her mother, “Will you start hating me, now that I am not your daughter?”

Kalyani hugged her even tightly and said, “No, Never, You have always been my daughter and always will be. I can’t see a drop of tear in your eyes. You will always the apple of my eye” both started sobbing.

Kalyani saw that Padma came with coffee for both of them and was about to leave, when Kalyani called her. Padma could not believe her ears, this was the first time ever she called with so much love. She turned back to see Kalyani smiling at her with moist eyes.

Kalyani came closer and hugged her and started kissing her like a baby. Padma could not believe her luck. Kalyani was so wrecked after knowing the truth that she was begging for forgiveness from Padma. Padma also started crying but with happiness. They both hugged each other for long time and then happily went inside. Kalyani promised to cook herself a nice treat for both her daughters.

Meanwhile Swati went to her mother’s room and picked the diary before someone else sees it. She came to her room and thanked the god that everything went as planned and her mother didn’t recognize her handwriting. They are a happy family now.

Train to Hell

2011-11-23T12:18:00.004+05:30

26^th Feb 2002

“Sabarmati Express 2 ghante late hai” Beeped the man at the railway enquiry counter.

Rehan’s heart sank deeper as he struggled out of the queue and walked towards Nazia. She was standing near the reservation chart with her luggage. He told her the status and added “Actually all the long distance trains get late and especially in night during winters” said Rehan justifying the delay.

Nazia and Rehan were college sweet hearts and she was travelling to Ahmadabad for an interview. They have been dating since 2000 New Year party in college. Their relation bloomed with the beginning of the new millennium and they were planning to get married soon. It was end of Feb but still it was chilly and they were shivering despite of their jackets.

After sometime, Nazia said: “Rehan you should leave now; it’s getting late and colder with every passing minute. I will call you the moment I board the train. Ok?”

Rehan didn’t listen to any reasons and decided to stay back till the train leaves. He picked her suitcase and they started walking towards the waiting room in an attempt to relax and stay warm. They started talking about how important it would be for her to get through the interview and their future plans. The time passed on and after sometime, they dozed off.

It was just 15 mins or so before the aging monster arrives crawling on the rails. They got up hearing the piercing train horn. They came out and stood on the platform. The platform was deserted and some dogs were howling on the one corner. Suddenly, the train appeared from the thick fog and S8 came to a halt where they were standing. Rehan helped Nazia with the luggage and after 10 mins or so the train left huffing.

As Nazia entered the coach, she found the entire coach was saffronised. It seemed like everyone is coming back or going for some pilgrimage. She made herself comfortable on the berth after chaining the luggage to the hooks below. As she was about to doze off, her cell-phone rang. It was her Mom calling. She had informed her earlier about the delay.

Maa: “Beta!! Train aayi ki nahi??”

Nazia: “Maa train mein hi baithi hoon aur abhi station se nikli hai”

Maa: “Chalo theek hai!! Waise beta tumko jyaada pata hai lekin thoda dhyaan se dena interview… Bilkul nervous mat hona. Nayi wali salwar pehenkar jana. Hotel mein pahunchte hi call karna.”

Nazia was listening to her like a 4 year old as she went on mentioning all the Do’s and Dont’s to follow for the Interview. After some more informal talk she hung up and slowly dozed off.

27^th Feb 2002

Nazia woke up rubbing her eyes as she found the train stationary. Lazily yawning she checked wristwatch; it was about 7:45 a.m. As she lifted the window u p a cold and spine-chilling gust of air greeted her. Her skin puckered into goose bumps. It was all looking foggy as if it’s all covered with soot. The train was not supposed to halt for so long at such a small station. May be some train is crossing, she thought… She heard some raised voices at a distance which she was not concerned as she was looking for a chaiwallah to cross near her window. Suddenly her phone came to life and she saw Rehan’s name blinking. She picked the call and sat up straight to get a better signal coverage. She told him that the train is stopped at some unknown station and looks like there is some dispute going on.

While talking to Rehan, she saw a man wrapped up in a shawl probably hiding something inside, coming towards her coach from a distance. His eyes were blood red and he was looking very angry. Rehan was listening to her when she asked someone casually:

“Bhaiya, kaun sa station hai ye?”

He heard the man saying “Godhra” and with a sharp shriek the phone went dead.

Chai ki ek Talab

2011-11-11T10:12:00.002+05:30

Shruti Kakkad was working in a MNC as a Software professional. She was one amongst the millions of engineers who used to spend half of their life in front of the blue screens. She hated her job like most. She had a delivery coming up in a week and she was asked to lead the team and had to stay back late that night. She was at her desk compiling the code which was sent for her review and the automated tool was taking its own sweet time to complete. Lack of sleep and previous night's hangover were taking their toll on the poor soul. She was not able to hold herself and finally dozed off. The screaming error message on the screen jolted her back to the reality, in her cubicle C-209 from her dreamland. She got up to realize that the keyboard and her cheek were smeared in her drooling while she was asleep. Disgustingly, wiping her cheek she stared at the screen and tied her flowing silky hair in a knot. While getting up she saw the big mug on her desk and she knew what she needed at this very moment.

She expectantly looked at the passing peon and made an eye contact just for a second and he immediately understood what she needed in this cold chilly night.

He said, "Madam, Doodh to nahi hai, chai nahi ban sakti hai." Her heart sank deeper hearing this as she trudged out of the cubicle with a heart heavier than the delivery pressure. Life’s tough. With the clock striking the Cinderella hour, error screen screaming to be addressed, and No tea, Shruti felt as if the world is conspiring against her. It was not fair. Irritatingly she muted the system and went to the ladies room to cover the ruined make-up before one of her many fans sees her. From the ladies room window she saw 2 boys smoking outside the company gate. Immediately she knew what she has to do. She got an idea.

After the quick patch up of the makeup she rushed out and ran towards the lift. From the unlucky floor she started descending to the ground at snail’s pace. The moment the lift doors opened, a gush of ice-cold breeze kissed her freshly painted face. She immediately realized her mistake as she walked past the lobby. The stole was hanging in her cubicle and she should not have worn sleeveless. The security guard saw her and stood. She was taken aback as she didn't expect anyone there. He caught her and knew that she did it again. She forgot to get her Id while running down. Shruti pleaded and explained that it is at her desk and she came in rush. Reluctantly he agreed to let her go. She came out of the company lobby only to realize that it was extremely cold at this hour and she could see the dense fog in distant light. The night was getting more seductive by the minute as a poet would express it. The night was really cold and for once the weather department’s prediction came true, which she chose to ignore earlier that day. She was getting cold with every step she was taking outside. And her teeth were like a Morse code machine, punching the code into thin air coz of the spine chilling winter. kitt kitt kittt….. It was pitch dark outside. She could hear the distant growls of the zooming cars and trucks on the Outer Ring Road. She was determined that her idea will not fail her in keeping her warm and relaxing her. She was little scared, but she saw the boys out there and she knew she will get what she wants there.

Rubbing her hands, in an attempt to keep herself warm, she moved to the entrance gate. At the gate she found that the boys have left and there was no-one. She felt depressed as the last hope was also gone. She was sure that she saw him also on the cycle. All her effort of coming all the way from 13th floor went down the drains. As the human count on the road became sparse, the canines started patrolling with their tails up. Dogs added the required Indian-ness to the office landscape. One of them looked inquisitively to her and after a moment joined its pack, which was howling together at a distance. In spite of all the atheism and rationale she was bred in all these years, she was still feeling really uncomfortable with a pack of dogs howling at a distance for no reason. It was a bad omen. Suddenly an auto driver popped up like a matrimonial ad of shaadi.com from thin air asking if she needs an auto. Looking at him disgustingly, she said "No". Disappointed and dejected she turned back to head to her 4 by 4 cubicle. And then she heard it.

She turned back in anticipation hoping what she heard was true. She realized that the security guard in the adjacent company was whistling trying to shoo away the canines and the sound was not what she thought it was. She thought her fate could not be so bad. How can god be so heartless to a poor soul like her? She heard it again and this time she was sure that she heard it right. She waited with baited breath, voicing the prayers for it to come true. The fog was thick and the service road ahead was pitch dark. From that abyss of darkness she saw a ray of hope, a tiny twinkling light. Her hopes started rising and she was sure that her prayers have been answered finally.

From the pitch dark fog she saw the light was coming closer and getting brighter with every passing second. She could make out a lean young figure walking towards the company gates. Yes, it was him. It was confirmed now. He was walking with his Hero cycle with 2 jute bags dangling from each side of the handle. He was short and lean, may be in his mid-20s. He had a white pair of "action ke sports shoes" on. An unbuttoned orange jacket over a bright red shirt made him look like a character from the nursery sketchbook of a mischievous child. His head was covered in a woolen cap to protect him from the cold blowing wind. She had seen the big steel container tied to the seat. She was never so ecstatic to see anyone ever as she was to see Manoj- the regular guy. She knew Manoj well, as he was Krishna’s brother who used to cook at her boyfriend (Ashish) place. He used to come sometimes to help his brother in cooking where she met him. She felt comfortable seeing him walking towards her. She could not wait for him to come closer. With every step he was taking towards her, she was feeling energized and rejuvenated. Finally Manoj reached where she was standing expectantly. He asked her, if she wants. And then she said, "Manoj, Ek chai pila do". Sipping contently on the hot brewing tea she went upstairs, wrapped up the work and left home late that night.

Next day she went to Ashish's place where he was preparing tea. She noticed he was little disturbed about something. She got to know that Krishna has not been coming since past one week. He told her that his brother Manoj who used to sell tea in Outer Ring Road was run over by a lorry last week and was dead on the spot near her office. A chill ran down Shruti’s spine. Her whole body numbed. Her blood froze. She gave him a scared look and fainted, when he offered her the cup of tea. Still Ashish wonders, why she stopped having TEA suddenly?

Turning 30 :(

2011-08-09T14:53:00.002+05:30

Being 30 is something different & not so good. First time this funda made an impression in my mind was when I saw the 30Plus tablets ad of actor Jitender. C'mon, I mean one needs some energy tablets in 30s? Let’s not go that way as yet! One more phrase that was so immensely popular during my college days- to disgust and ridicule somebody - call him 'uncle'. I had a very different 'point of view' about these 30 something uncle category people. Now there is no point in having that view.

They say the average life of an Indian male is about 62. So, technically I am half way through. There are so many things to be done and so much more to achieve. Well, time is running by very very fast. Frankly speaking, I was fine with this pace of time when I turned 20. End of teenage was kind a cool! Breaking the shackles... There was some awesome stuff to look forward to - Graduation, Interviews, Jobs, Promotion, Salary Hikes, Clubbing, Onsite trips, New Bike, Car, Parties, Expensive Accessories and Labelled Clothes. Wooow... I was almost dying to turn 20+. Well, I missed 'girl friend(s)' in that list. I was 23 after my graduation in 2004 and these last seven years have been lightening fast!

The point is, one always expects so much more from life. At 30 I am feeling a bit let down because there is really so much more to be done and very less is achieved. I need to up the tempo for next 10 years because then I will be in my ridiculous 40s. And that sure is crap!

So 30s, here I come. I am sure we will show each other some good time. And as they say - Men look more handsome in their 30s. Certainly looking forward to that !!!

Shame!! Shame!! Shame!!

2011-02-02T09:58:00.003+05:30

This appeared in Readers Quotient:

http://www.readersquotient.com/india/shame-shame-shame

It’s been already 1 month we are in to the New Year and Valentine’s Day is round the corner. Very soon the cities, malls and stores would get painted in different hues of red- symbol of love. The season of love will again witness some drama from the moral police claiming their 15mins fame reminding the community what they are capable of. Let’s keep the V-day aside and talk about the shocking headline of 1st Feb 2011 in TOI which caught my eye- “Bill seeks to let 12-yr-olds have non-penetrative sex”. http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Bill-seeks-to-let-12-yr-olds-have-non-penetrative-sex/articleshow/7400208.cms When I saw this headline, I could not believe my senses and read it multiple times to make sure what I understood is correct. Such a bill coming from Chennai of all the places in the country was a bigger astonishment. The people of Chennai who have filed case against Khushboo’s statement on Major girl’s virginity have proposed for the legal acceptance on minor’s sexual acts is startling. The bill states: “Twelve-year-old children will be legally permitted to have non-penetrative sex with children of their age. The Bill also seeks to introduce a gradation in the age of consensual non-penetrative sex (12-14 years and 14-16 years) against the existing age of consent for sex which is 16 years. It proposes that in case of the age group 12-14, the maximum age gap between partners should be two years. For the 14-16 group, the maximum gap should be three years”. The consent age for sex in Spain is the lowest -13 and looks like India is trying to prove the world that we have arrived and broken all the shackles of our rusted traditions and become global. Is this some kind of mockery of “India Shining”?

I fail to understand why do we need such a bill to be proposed in the first place? Is our country so perfect that we don’t have any major problems at hand to solve? Or is it the government’s idea of diverting the attention from the multi-crore scams and price rise? India is a junkyard of problems starting from poverty to illiteracy, corruption to racism. Instead of addressing the problems at hand we are igniting controversies and hullabaloo on the grounds of morality & ethics amongst the fellow citizens. The proposed person would get his 15 mins fame and the TV channels would get their required TRPs. Under the existing law, if two 12-year-olds get physical and if one child’s parent complains, the other can be pulled up by the Juvenile Justice Board. The panel that has members from National Commission for Protection of Child Rights felt such minor things should be decriminalized. The panel feels that child sex is a minor thing? Will the panel members be alright for their kids to indulge in such an act? I know I would not be. By saying this I don’t believe I am putting myself in the category of narrow-minded people like Shiv Sena or Sri Ram Sene. As ministers say at all occasions “I condemn such a bill” :P (pun intended). This just proves the in-capability of our judicial system and un-accountability of the parents who do not want to inculcate right morals/ethics into their offspring. Anyways we have enough perverts in this country doing, the unmentionable, we all read a lot of rubbish happening, whatever the argument/ legal explanations, by any act of humanity, this is just not permissible, 12 years of age and to allow such thoughts, this stinks big time.

If a similar act conducted by a grown up person it is considered to be child abuse/molestation, then how can such an act be justified if it is done by a fellow child. If child molestation can traumatize the child how child sex can be considered acceptable? This bill would give pedophiles a chance to exploit the law. The bill talks about non-penetrative sex but it will not be possible for young children to control themselves if they get excited. At the time of sex even a sane/adult person becomes insane and actions become uncontrollable. Moreover how will a 12 year old give Informed Consent? At an age where Children should be taught Morals/ethics and the stress should be on Sports and Education, the Government is coming up with a proposal for having sex, that too with a qualifier of being non-penetrative. Children at a tender age can't differentiate between good/bad or right/wrong. What is needed is elderly guidance to humanely navigate them through their adolescence and bring them to their adulthood where they are able to take the right decisions. In a country where talking about sex publicly is a taboo, proposal of such a bill is extremely astonishing act. 12 years is not the age for a child to be indulged in sexual activities and not even for sex education for that matter. Sex education for a child should start from at least 14 years of age. Letting them do such acts and decriminalizing non penetrative sex would lead for more acts of crime. Several questions which need to be answered first:

1) How will government make sure non penetrative act does not end up in penetrative sexual act? Will they be present to stop it? Consequences: Rise in no of 12/13 yr old pregnant girls, increase in number of abortions, Child pornography, and child sex.

2) With introducing this act of decriminalizing non penetrative sex, what would be the fate of sexual harassment acts? That law would become null and void as mostly all sexual harassment faced by women at offices would come under the category of non penetrative acts.

This bill raises a lot of questions on the grounds of morality which is a very sensitive issue specially when it comes to our children-coz everyone is protective about their kids. This bill, if enacted, will become haven to child molesters and pedophiles. We can tolerate price rises, but how can we ever tolerate our children’s future destroyed? Such laws won't help in building a good nation and in building up those who are the future of our country. The Government should spend its time and energy on the more pressing things on hand. It’s really a Shame!! Shame!! Shame!!

Happy Republic Day !!

2011-02-02T09:52:00.003+05:30

This article got published in Readers Quotient on 26th Jan 2011.

http://readersquotient.com/india/happy-republic-day

Another year has ended and going by Mayan Prediction we are closer to the end of the world. In a few days India is going to celebrate its 61st Republic day where we would publish India’s report card to the world. Suddenly I started feeling home-sick thinking about republic day. My parents are old fashioned patriots who ensure that special delicacies are prepared on the eve of 15th Aug and 26th Jan, since they felt it’s extremely important to celebrate the milestones of our free country. While engrossed in the thoughts of mom’s special delicacies, a little girl started tapping the window pane trying to sell some tricolors. Her tiny body and saucer eyes made her resemble the classic poster girl for poverty. She tapped on the window of my cab and said, ‘‘happy republic day saab.’’ She was shivering as she sold the plastic flags to motorists, most of whom shooed her away. She possibly didn’t know the meaning or importance of the Republic Day, but she knew that she would make some extra rupees that week. And that made her happy! For the little girl, those few extra rupees may have translated into extra bread for dinner.

Looking at her made me think where is the country heading? What is our government’s goal for the country apart from robbing the common mans hard earned money to quench their desires? Do the people like the small girl on the streets begging or selling toys are ever part of the agenda to start with? It’s been over 60 years of our Independence but how much have we progressed? What is the measure of the country’s progress? Does the country’s progress ever take into account the poor and under the poverty line people? Recently I read somewhere- “According to recent Forbe’s list of Wealthiest people in the world, there are 23 billionaires in India with combined net worth of $99bn.” And on the other hand we have around 40 % of Indians below the poverty line who can’t afford to spend even Rs. 21.6 per day to get the basic 3 meals.

Recently some entertainment channel was showcasing the minute details of the humble billion dollar Ambani Residence with 27 floors and 3 helipads as the world’s luxuriest home in Mumbai, where around 60% of the population resides in slums or streets. When one lands in Mumbai, you get the visual treat of Dharaavi (Asia’s largest slum) and the sorry state of our country which Danny Boyle has painted on the celluloid for the world to witness. It’s difficult to believe that on one hand India have few of the most affluent people in the world (www.forbes.com) who can topsy-turvy the country’s economy, while the other side of the coin is rusted with poverty where people are struggling tooth and nail to survive each day. I don’t have any complaints or resent against the rich and affluent people in the country coz they are in a way face of the country and in some ways are able to showcase the world that India is not a snake charmers country anymore. They have worked hard enough to be in their current position and are working harder to maintain that position which should be appreciated. But what about the downtrodden half of the society? Who is responsible for them? What is the government doing for their upliftment apart from making programs on the paper? The fact is, even though there are facilities/schemes being initiated, the target audience don’t get to know or avail the facilities as there is corruption in every level. By the time the huge issued amount trickles down, there is nothing left for the needy; however documentation would be available to prove that the scheme has been a huge success leading to some more such schemes.

By pointing out all the negative aspects and losing hope I might sound cynical; which is the state of most of the youngsters and educated section. With the current rate of corruption, the country is doomed for disaster and probably our generation would be there to witness it. It’s high time that we think about some measures to get the country move in the right direction. The least we as citizens can do is pay our taxes on time and don’t encourage corruption from our end as must as possible. Stop paying the traffic policemen for the lack of license or signal crossing. Follow the rules in the first place and if not, get a receipt for the paid money. I am not saying that this would change the country’s destiny but could be a stepping stone. The girl like this who is selling flags would probably end up in the metro’s mean streets turning tricks and hustling or peddling drugs, who would never see the inside of a concrete home. For such people the blue plastic sheet will have to suffice. Her bright eyes and cheerful smile will soon be replaced by a hard, stony expression. But chances are she will still be working on the same streets decade from now. Try telling people like them “Mera Bharat Mahaan”, she might just punch you.

2010- Year of Scams

2010-12-27T15:12:00.000+05:30

This was published in Readers Quotient site: http://readersquotient.com/2010/12/15/2010year-of-scams/

The year 2010 is about to end and the new year is round the corner with lots of hopes, promises and cheers for everyone. 2010 seems to have been one of the most eventful year in the history of Indian politics since our independence. The year 2010 has been aptly coined as “The year of scams” by the media. This article is just to have a quick roundup of all the major scams exposed. With media and Common Man questioning the government, it looks like a big blow under the belt for our Prime Minister. While our PM Mr. Manmohan Singh is clean and praised for his smartness and intelligence across the world, back home most consider him to be a puppet guarding the throne for the next Gandhi Kin. The rate at which the information about fraudulent business practices involving lakhs and crores of money are getting exposed, India is bound to grab gold in the corruption race. Corruptions like 2G, CWG, LIC Housing loans, Adarsh land scam and IPL to name a few are the top 5 in the pick list. Many are saying India has come of age and soon it will be a powerful country in the world, but with the rate at which we are unraveling the corruptions every day, I only see India moving towards an economic black hole. From Raja to Kalmadi and Yeddyurappa to Ashok Chavan every possible person has looted, robbed and cheated making the common man difficult to trust anyone. Now with some well educated leaders in the power we hoped something’s would change and the country would get a new direction towards growth, prosperity and better living standards for all. But it turned out to be bigger calamity in itself. All the skeletons that have been brought out of the closets are going on for past few years and it took us so long to acknowledge that there is a problem. India as a country has come a long way since our independence and we rest of the world foresees India as a major economic superpower in coming times. Lot has been said, debated and argued about the corruptions. Every channel had their field day with new exposures at regular intervals, sky-rocketing the TRPs, but how many channels have come up with a solution? Isn’t it the responsibility of the journos also to suggest some solutions? Corruption is not new and we all have been experiencing it since decades. From the meter tampering in the auto fare to 2G, from metrics tampering in reports in office to Bofors, from pulses to land, we are omnipresent. Is it that difficult for the government to set a process with full spirit and see to that it is followed with integrity? It’s high time that we come up with some concrete solutions to curb such events. There should be new laws enforced. I personally think that India is not made for a democracy. I believe a bi-party system should be implemented. Presently every tom dick and harry has their own party. A bi-party system will ensure some level of control and also lead to accountability for the ruling party. Apart from that government should mandate a certain level of eligibility criteria for MPs and MLAs; may be a Post Graduation in Political Sciences or for that matter any degree as such. Any candidate with an FIR/criminal record should not be allowed to contest the elections until their name gets cleared in the case. There should be mandatory audit/inspection for every MP/MLAs on their accountability for their portfolio. This will definitely help us take necessary steps before the trillions of money is gulped. Government officials should also look out for eligible candidates from colleges via campus selections for government/municipal jobs based on fair selection process. These steps might sound small and petite but even a mile long journey has to be started with one step. I hope that by implementing some of such stringent solutions and several others which come into the minds of you all which you may like to put them across in the comments and feedback we can probably get some discipline in the way we are functioning and help the country progress in real terms. Hope India ushers into a new era of development in coming years.

Guzaarish

2010-11-30T15:23:00.002+05:30

What does life mean to us? Is mere breathing considered to be life? This is the question raised very loud and clear in the most anticipated movie of the year: Guzaarish- story of Ethan Mascarenhas. After painting the celluloid with Black and Blue the ace director Sanjay Leela Bhansali is back with his grandeur. This is a movie which would tickle your grey cells to think if it’s high time to debate and re-look into our judicial system to make euthanasia or mercy killing legal?

Firstly coming to the movie, "Guzaarish" is a story about a wheelchair-bound magician who once used to fly. A patient of quadriplegia, who has to be nursed day and night. SLB is back with his magical formula which got him most of the accolades- a handicapped person for whom life itself is the villain. Guzaarish works on many levels and fails on many as well. Surprisingly, the movie which highlights how imperfect and cruel life can be, everything seems to be unfailingly perfect. He looks too glowing and perfect for someone who has trouble breathing, whose lungs, liver and kidneys are deteriorating... Hrithik Roshan tries to wring every ounce of sympathy in us by laughing in the face of tragedy. It’s only designed to make you love him and feel for him. Only… you don’t after a point. You never really get inside Ethan’s head beyond a certain level and remain disconnected with him throughout the film. Aishwarya is a stunning picture of fire and grace, walking away with certain scenes by her sheer vitality. His student, the wanabe magician, Aditya Roy Kapoor, dresseed like Raj Kapoor in “Mera Naam Joker” is a natural and a delight. One can see the beauty of incandescent Goan landscape that literally transports you to an art gallery. The cinematography is so beautiful that you can feel the goan breeze on your face.

Beyond all this good cinematography and bad performances, there is an important question which the movie leaves behind. Is mere breathing considered to be life? Should Ethan and likes be allowed to die simply because they don’t want to live anymore? What does freedom of life mean to us? Isn’t the right to live is closely linked to the right to death since death is an event of life itself? It’s high time that we think about it and take a pioneering step. I agree life is scared and we ought to live it to the full extent. Is it possible for us as a society to recognize and assert the fundamental importance of life while at the same time recognizing and asserting the right of a terminally ill patient to die with dignity? This is something that our judicial system need to see on the humanitarian grounds and take a call.

CWG 2010

2010-10-06T19:42:00.000+05:30

The upcoming Common Wealth Games which is supposed to be Indias moment of glory is turning into an hour of shame with every passing day. The games due to start from Oct 3rd are proving to be a debacle. With Royal corruptions, high security concerns and incomplete preparations the question that pops up is are we really ready to organize such a world class event?

2010 CWG with imported items like toilet papers worth 4000 bucks a pop and Umbrellas for 6000/piece has set a new standard of corruption. It makes all the other corruptions from fodder to software seems to be chindi chors. With CWG participants on their way its too late to react and do anything at this point. We cannot shelve the games and book the culprits. Its the irony of fact that inspite of so much nothing happens to these offenders. However we will see breaking news flashes on our Idiot boxes, some jobless panelists will be called who will condemn the issue and give out their gyaan, Some sting opertions to garner some TRPs and some more new names getting global fame. While the mango people would think that something is happening the issue will be swept under the carpet in few weeks.

When I got to know that a whopping 30 crore flower pots were bought, I got to know what money plants are. Incase there is a security concern, our body builders working out with 80 crore dumbles (probably made of gold with diamonds studded on it) could be put to use. With all this I wonder are we really a poor country? I am sure we can make many developed countries to run for their money. You know what, its the organizers mistake; Who asked them to call it common wealth games? No wonder the officials took it literally and thought the weatlth to be "common" and shared with family and friends :P.

Anyways its one more scandals which will be discussed at chai-time by one and all. We will curse the government for not taking any actions. TVs will show this for a while and eventually everyone will forget it.

Peer Pressure !

2010-04-21T21:15:00.000+05:30

1. Look at Bunty. He has scored 95%. Don’t you want to be the topper of the class and get distinction award. You should start studying more and more so that you can score more than him. 2. Orange Juice!! ha ha ha… The room filled with laughter. The girls are having vodka and a smoke and you are having orange juice. C’mon man; you are 28. Pick up the glass of scotch man. 3. So when are you getting married? You are 28 right? What’s going on? I am sure you have heard or said such statements in more than one occasion. I have definitely been on the receiving end in more than one occasion. This is just a simple dose of peer pressure. It starts from our childhood. Parents are never easier to please; they have their own set of sky-high expectations from their children. Pressure to score highest in all subjects and be a topper, Outstanding in sports and extra curricular activities, being the best-behaved child around. As the time passes the expectations multiplies. Be an engineer or doctor by clearing an entrance exam in IIT or AIIMS. Then topping in college and getting placed in the campus selection getting paid highest in the batch. Then comparing salary’s and onsite visits. The vicious circle never ends till the time we are on our death pyre. As a kid our parents chose everything in our lives. Starting from clothes to food to school to friends to play and mingle with. Now that we are grownups and take decision for ourselves we choose our own herd- our own set of people, colleagues and groups whom we like to hang out with. Groups where we all think alike, have common goals, similar interests and the same likes and dislikes. In short everyone’s frequency matches almost perfectly. As we become more and more independent, our friends/peers play an important role in shaping us. In a group while we make dozens of decisions we always influence each other’s choices and behaviors. Its human nature to listen and learn from others. There’s nothing wrong with comparing and getting influenced by peers. People are influenced because they want to fit in, be more like the ones they admire and do what others are doing so that they are accepted in the group. As every coin has two faces, peer pressure also has its own share of pros and cons. It all depends on person to person what they learn and what they get influenced by. The only key being we should not lose our own identity at the end of it. I have known people who get into things they do not want to, just because of peer pressure and then repent for the rest of their lives. But it’s very hard to control one self when everyone around you are behaving in a certain manner. If you don’t act like them, then you are not one of them. Perhaps this fear is what makes you do something, which you don’t wish to do. Peers help you socialize, encourage in achieving your goals, experience something new. But at the same time peers can also make you do something, which you wouldn’t want to do in the first place. They may pressure you into doing something you're uncomfortable with, such as shoplifting, smoking or drinking, taking dangerous risks when driving a car. Remember the movie “Lakshya” where Hrithik is clueless and joins army just because his friend is going. Though he changes completely after a while. But that’s movie and practically it can cost you piece of your mind. We ought to realize when and where we have to draw our line and say No. Peer pressure can be in any form starting from blackmailing to subtle signals making you conform to do something, which you do not want to do. The pressure can be very powerful and hard to resist. It can be doing anything as harmless as dressing in a certain outfit to pretty harmful like doing drugs. Most of the time we give in because we see everyone is doing it and think, “it must be ok”. Before you know you might just be part of the crowd and end up in an ugly situation.

At some point of time everyone ends up in a sticky peer pressure situation. No matter how well we know our friends and buddies, sooner or later we have to stand our ground and make some unpopular decisions. It may be something as simple as resisting the pressure of spending your hard earned money on a weekend party making you look uncool to your group. But these situations are just an opportunity for you to decide what’s right for you. It’s not easy to resist negative peer pressure, but when you do it, you feel great. You never know it may be a positive impact on other buddies in your group. So have loads of peers but avoid the pressure and have a chill pill !!

Mera Bharat Mahan

2010-03-20T23:32:00.002+05:30

कल नुमाईश में मिला वो चीथड़े पहने हुए

मैंने पुछा कौन? तो बोला हिंदुस्तान हूँ !!

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when I say Taj? What comes to my mind is 26/11, which makes me shiver to the core. Gone are the days when my answer would have been one of the wonders of the world or a posh hotel. Do you remember the 14th Feb 2010 newspapers front-page headlines? “Blast rips Pune bakery, 9 Killed.” Did you find something new or shocking?That’s definitely not new to me as every few days the headlines repeat with different location and varied death tolls. Every channel showcases the breaking news trying to get higher TRP’s; netas would condemn the act of terrorism and highlight the incompetence of the ruling party vouching for some brownie points from the mango people; All so called NGO’s would gather at a historical monument with candles paying tribute to the victims; and the so-called policewala will be out on patrol with their rusted rifles trying to protect the left out citizens. What is new in this? I know, I sound cynical. Coz I’m sick and tired of such attacks, our incapability, our lethargic responses, our dysfunctional government and our handicapped system. This year we celebrated our 60th Republic Day and published India’s report card to the world, which showed everything was perfect. We are in 21st century and India is still counted as a developing country. Even today we have snake charmers tag attached to us in spite of marking our presence on the moon. We have the world’s biggest slum, Thanks to Danny Boyle to remind this to the world and Indians also. We are almost there to beat China in terms of population. We have beaten almost every other country by getting our hands dirty in corruptions ranging from fodder to Software Company, from Pulses to Bofors. We are omnipresent. Still half the Indian population has not seen school and more than half are under the poverty line. Ever thought what is it that makes us feel proud about being an Indian? If you ask me, in real terms I don’t know myself? As in a movie Nana Patekar points out: Sau mein se assi baimaan fir bhi mera bharat mahaan. I guess this post is just to explore this how are we great when we are not able to protect our fellow human beings and when we discriminate our fellow Indians on the basis of religion, region, caste and creed? Every day we hear people saying passing on the road, traveling in bus/train and even during daru sessions – “Is desh ka kuch nahi ho sakta”. Infact am not an exception. We have the most brilliant minds in the country but our contribution to world’s science and technology is almost nil. Even in 21st century our contribution to world is counted as Kama Sutra and Zero. India has money but we still can’t meet the basic needs of food, shelter and clothes for our fellow countrymen. So then why are we still lagging? Is it just our lethargy to be a pioneer/leader? Or is it the colonial hangover? Or is it the corruption, which doesn’t allow us to excel? The same brilliant Indian minds work in pardes and make the impossible possible making the developed countries more ahead in terms of technology, power, health and infrastructure. Its not that we don’t react to a situation; of course we do but for that we need a push, a catalyst, and a force. Why do we need means to react and a push to be accountable? Why is it that we need Mumbai Local attacks, or a Taj Incident or the latest pune blast to unite us and stand against wrong? Why do a Jessica Lal or Aarushi need to be butchered for people to voice out their pain/angst? Why don’t we believe anymore in Vasudaiva Kutumbakam or Sarve Jana Sukhino Bhavantu? Why is it that we see unity in diversity only in books or movies? Why don’t we see this everyday on streets, in our thinking, in our work? Why do we still fight over caste, religion and sex? Why even after 60 years of independence we see each other as north Indian or south Indian? Why our education system is not able to teach us the minutest thing, which even the smallest of insects show? Unity! There are lots of hard-hitting questions and we don’t have answers to any of them. The calendar has changed but still things are same as it were last year. We are still watching the same 26/11 videos; same set of people marching on the roads with candles to stop terrorism, kasab- who brutally killed innocent people is the safest person in India savoring delicacies in the jail. A staggering 31 crores have been spent to keep him safe and secure. I wonder if the government had taken so much care to safeguard the nation we wouldn’t have had 26/11 or 11/7 in the first place. I might sound condescending, but unfortunately that’s the truth. Every one of us wants to do something for his or her country to make it move forward towards a developed country, but we don’t know what to do? How to do? Where to start? The process of even reporting the lost cell phone is so painful that, most of us don’t even bother to take that pain. I would not say its lethargy; it’s the complicated process and corrupted routes to achieve it.

I guess its time that we all ask this question to ourselves and think seriously about such issues and voice it. The other day I saw the movie “Invictus” starring Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela who asks his countrymen to turn colorblind in order to pave paths for a rainbow country. There were so many goose bump moments that it actually fill me with new zeal and passion to do something different. It’s high time that we rise to the calls of time and stand to what we believe in.

Nothing for you My Dear- Still I Love You

2010-02-09T21:53:00.004+05:30

Ever heard the saying: "Never judge a book by its cover". Trust me guys its true. Last week I went to Landmark just to browse through the new collections and best sellers. With the valentines season round the corner it seemed like the town is painted in Red. Starting from flowers to books, cards to gifts, malls to roadside stalls. Everyone seems to be in the red mood :P. While browsing under the bestsellers section, a book with red cover with a couple on a bench caught my attention. It was a book by a debutante Arpit Dugar and the book I’m referring is “Nothing for you My Dear- Still I Love You”. The cover was interesting and the jist at the last page sounded something light-hearted romcom. Since the price was just 90/- I picked it. I was expecting something on the lines of Two States by Chetan Bhagat. Like a young kid who is excited to see new books at the beginning of the academic year, I was also excited to start off with the book. But alas the excitement vanished in just few pages. Firstly coming to the plot. The book has nothing new to offer. The same college life and similar issues, lack in captivating the reader. The main protagonist (Avi) is asked to meet a prospective girl for marriage. Avi tells her that he is not interested but when the girl insists on knowing the reason, Avi explains in the form of 185-page book. One thing I am not able to understand why on earth would someone share with an unknown girl his/her 24 years of life? I failed to connect with the author on that. I mean any sane person would tell that he/she has someone else in their life but definitely not narrate their biography as a reason for not marrying. Secondly, within first few pages, the reader would get a bad feeling; that the book was never edited. Seems like the manuscript was printed directly. With so many spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and incorrect sentence structures the book is a big disappointment. The author wrote his own story and named his character as Avinash, but at places he got it mixed with his real name-Arpit, which doesn’t sound good. Also the name of his friend “Nitin” has been spelled incorrectly as “Ntini” at many places, which definitely means the editor gladly slipped reading the content. Smart guy I'd say!! Lastly, in the end the author tried to get an element of twist, which was not handled well. Seems like author was bored of the book himself. He wrapped up the ending in 5 or 10 lines. Before the reader could realize what happened, the book ends abruptly. Though I have finished the book in two sittings, it’s been a great disappointment. At the end I could feel only one thing paisa bolta hai. If you have the moolah, you can get any damn stuff published and make readers pay for your $***. So to conclude, NEVER read it and thumbs down for Arpit Dugar's first attempt.

Phir Nahi Mile Sur

2010-01-27T12:33:00.009+05:30

When I first got to know that Zoom has taken an initiative to remake the iconic "Mile Sur", I was really excited. This song is considered among the most patriotic, which emphasize the common spirit of unity in diversity. It makes one nostalgic. I felt chalo finally someone recognized the need of this video in present troubled times, when different places in India are mentally disturbed by spoiled politics are seeking separate states and terrorism is the buzz word. Yesterday when I saw the New ‘Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara’ video I was stumble down. Frankly speaking, the legacy left by old one is incomparable with new one. New one doesn’t stand anywhere near the old humble and sweet "Mile Sur Mera Tumhara". I must say full marks to director/producer for initiation. Congratulations atleast they thought of this. But they messed up BIGGGGG Time... Firstly the producers didn’t understand the intent of redoing the iconic song. The original song had all the national heroes who have contributed to the country in their respective fields. The New mile sur seems to be a commercial song in tribute to Bollywood. Sallu doesn’t surprise me, I’m glad he is atleast partly dressed and does Ms Padoukone have only legs to show?? At least a tradional dress would’ve made her look graceful. Wonder what Rohit Bal and Karan Johar doing in this video? I am not demeaning Bollywood or the entertainment sector here, as they are much needed. But I strongly feel: For a song with an intention of national integration should include heroes from all fields- from sports to politics to business, from dancers to noble Laureates to Bharat Ratna Winners. I wonder why there was no Kalam, Tata/Premji, Tendulkar/Saurav, Rajyawardhan Singh Rathore, Paes or Bhupati, Vishwanathan Anand or Sania Mirza or Sunita williams? With the focused depiction on bollywood that too newbies like Ranbir, Shahid and Padukone, it failed to connect and seems like Bollywood is our role model. Secondly the new composition is so disappointing that it totally spoiled the original song. There is no smooth flow and at places it sounds totally out of place especially in Aamir's part. The way Shanker Mahadevan sang, I thought it was end of the song and Sonu Nigam overdid with unrequired extra notes. Flamboyant living musical legend such as Sivamani have his movements out of sync with the music! Thirdly the editing and camera work is poor. The best of the film industry are lined up with a really shabby editing job to showcase the country. India is such a beautiful country and they got only Taj Hotel to shoot several shots. The beautiful 7 northeastern states are totally missing. Where are the endless deserts of Rajasthan, snow covered Himalayas, green paddy fields or tea gardens? To conclude Phir mile sur is like a poor remix of the original. Original score was legendary. Even today when I hear it I get goosebumps. Good old childhood socialist song made impure by capitalist bollywood walas. It’s a big disappointment and thumbs down.

Mile Sur: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gstRrEmTcBc&feature=related

Phir Mile Sur (1st part): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nq31OjsQ124 Phir Mile Sur (2nd part): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nytoo6jFfNg

Bored !!

2009-12-29T15:44:00.003+05:30

It’s time to get bored. While the entire world is celebrating December as Anti-Boredom Month with vacations, festivals and parties lined up, I am yawning my way to office. How am I doing on my boredom meter??? Well lets see... really bad, infact getting worse by every passing minute. With only reality horror shows, Ruchika’s trial and nth time repetition of bollywood flicks, Idiot box, is the last resort. Friends are either at home spending time with parents/friends or merely on a mega world tour vacation to chill out and welcome the New Year in a very serene, relaxed and high-spirited way. I’m in Bangalore :( working and attending office daily. Why? Coz I don’t have leaves and no plans to go home. The good/bad part of working with an International organization is that there is literally no major work in the last 2 weeks of December. And to top it all; Recession has slowed down things a lot. Now at this time of the year, people are getting less work to do. Off late people are free and do not have much to work. All colleagues who stayed back like me are catching up on the pending work by filling pages and pages of performance appraisals. Hey am not talking about myself. Common work and me? I have this reputation of being the laziest creature on the planet and I have to live up to that. With year-end closure and holiday season, I am as free as the stainless steel chammach that comes free with Brooke Bond Tea and I am loving it. Like every normal human being I also look for number of long weekends when the next years calendars are released. Like everyone I was yearning for holidays. But now with holidays round the corner, and left alone in the city, am not excited. I am bored to death and let me count you the evidences of getting bored. I am playing all kinds of stupid games on facebook. You can see a lot of activity going on there. I started watching some brainless reality shows and CID on TV (not suicidal to watch K serials though). I am reading all org announcements of unknown people joining GE and several other countless brainless activities to keep myself from going insane. I’ve also attended my colleagues child’s 1st birthday parties… It’s the holiday season and I’m all-alone on this planet earth. Well at office I have to fill out my performance appraisal forms like everone else and IT returns to be filed- which is monotonous and I despise it. I am not able to go home as it was not planned earlier and now the flight expenses are exorbitantly high. Sigh…. So here I am vegetating in Bangalore winters and literally doing nothing. I love it. I love my life… :(

Kurbaan

2009-12-01T12:23:00.004+05:30

Lots have been said, written and exressed about "Kurbaan". So better late than never I thought I should also put my views in black and white before the movies effect fades away. I watched the movie last week with friends and trust me this is something you must watch if you havent. I'm sure many would agree that It's the most powerful film to come out of Dharma Productions continuing to make history with the letter "K". Many film makers have narrated story with a backdrop of terrorism but nothing as profound, thought-provoking and dramatic as Kurbaan.

Rensil D'silva who has chosen a burning issue like terrorism as his launchpad comes out with flying colors making one suspect if he's really a debutant. Though some draw parallels with recent movies like Fanaa and New York, Kurbaan is totally different with only one similarity being terrorism as backdrop. Despite its long running time of nearly 3 hours the director maintains the pace and keeps the audience glued to the screen. The best part is there's not even a single dull moment and every 10-15 minutes there is a twist which completely gets you unaware and hooked to the screen. The last half hour of climax is unpredictable and keeps you totally off the edge. Songs which are important part of our Indian cinema were already the chartbusters. They have gelled perfectly with the sequences without any lip sync.

Now coming to the actors- Saif has already proved himself as a fine actor and he is superb when he plays wicked. The transformation of his character from a charming college professor to cold blodded terrorsit is awesome. Kareena scores high with her acting and looks- No doubt on that. Vivek Oberoi also comes up with flying colors in his pivotal role though his american accent sounds very fake. No words for legends like Om Puri and kirron Kher who set new standards for themselves. Kirron however was a surprise element which was totally unexpected of.

On a whole, KURBAAN deserves all the superlative accolades its fetching being the most powerful film to come out of the Hindi film fraternity in 2009, so far. The film has a captivating plot, gripping screenplay, superb performances and a climax that shakes you up completely. In short its no ordinary bollywood masala flick, rather something that will spike your brain cells to think. If you havent watched it yet, you missed something !! In short fultoo paisa wasool.

Lost in Transit

2009-11-03T20:13:00.001+05:30

The Bucket List

2009-10-26T20:49:00.003+05:30

Today I happen to see "The Bucket List". Academy Award winners Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman star in the comedy drama," a touching, no-holds-barred adventure that shows it's never too late to live life to its fullest. Morgan Freemans' philosophy professor suggested that his students compose a "bucket list," a collection of all the things they wanted to do, see and experience in life before they kicked the bucket. But while Morgan was still trying to define his private dreams and plans, reality intruded in the form of Marriage, children, myriad responsibilities and gradually turned his concept of a bucket list into little more than a bittersweet memory of lost opportunities. Meanwhile, corporate billionaire Jack Nicholson who was always too busy making money and building an empire to think about what his deeper needs ends up in Morgans cabin. Thats when life delivers an urgent and unexpected wake-up call to both of them. Both decide not to give up or hope for some miracle. They decide to persue their pressing desire to spend the left out time doing everything they ever wanted to do before kicking the bucket. So against doctors order and family's refusal two virtual strangers hit the road together for the adventure of a lifetime- from the Taj Mahal to the Pyramids, the finest restaurants to the seediest tattoo parlors, the cockpit of vintage race cars to the open door of a prop plane- with just a sheet of paper, Adding and crossing items off their list while taking in the grandeur and beauty of the world.

The movie really made me think to work on my bucket list as well. Everyone have some unfulfiled desires and sometimes we just need a deadline to get our life in gear.

And they say life sucks !!

2009-09-14T18:34:00.008+05:30

Standing Ovation

2009-09-02T20:51:00.004+05:30

In a bizarre order, which stink of a feudal mindset, the Rajasthan government has issued a diktat to all its employees, making it mandatory for them to stand up and greet the visiting MPs or MLAs. Have you ever heard of anything more wacky order as such? Ever since I was a child, I was taught that respect is something you command not demand. Such order really questions the credibility of the Rajasthan government in taking a step towards progress. This also makes one think are we moving from developing country to an under developed one? For heavens sake we are in democratic country in 21st century and this is a not a jungle raj. The order clearly states to show proper respect and regard to a Member of Parliament (MP) and a Member of Legislative Assembly (MLA) especially when they come visiting. The government employees have been asked to stand up when the MP or MLA come to visit them.They have also been told to see them off personally, by actually leaving their rooms and work, among other things. As per TOI, Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot’s government says that what the government employees are being asked to do is nothing new, but just a part of the Indian culture. Why for every baseless thing we do, we cover it up by saying it’s our culture. It’s preposterous to pass on something like this and justify it by saying it’s our culture. Agreed it’s our culture, then why do we need an order for this? Is the government suggesting that people are cultureless? We Indians are taught by birth “atithi devo bhava” and we do treat our guests with due respect. Politicians like Shibu Soren started his political career by using mob attacks. Rabri Devi who was as smart asa cow was chief Minister of Bihar. Off late one MP of Andhra Pradesh has slapped a bank manager. With politicians having such a bad reputation how would anyone agree to such a demeaning order and show respect? This is a heinous act and I wonder how the ruling party has agreed something like this to be circulated. These are the incidents that hold us back from being in the league of developed countries. Like the roots hold the plant from movement, we also cling on to our culture anytime we want to pass on any such nuisance. I guess it’s high time that we stand upto such issues and raise our voice, use our freedom to speech.

Innovative Choreography !!

2009-09-01T16:00:00.002+05:30

My name is (NOT) KHAN !!

2009-08-26T18:25:00.002+05:30

Last week I woke up to the news of SRK’s detention at Newark Airport. Too much heat, hatred, emotions and god knows what all were generated by the 60 minute detention of Shah Rukh Khan by the US airport authorities. The Page 3 crowd has been vociferous in condemning the 'evil empire' and the whole episode is being portrayed as if an assault to India's dignity. Wake up people SRK doesn't represent the collective honour of 1 billion people. (Nor does Dhoni or Rahul Gandhi for that matter!). After reading the paper and watching the breaking news (as portrayed by media) I couldn’t stop myself from writing the post. Many of my friends flew to US whose names are neutral and they are neither Muslims nor their name ends with Khan. They don’t have a police records and they are not linked to any terrorist links also. But, still they are stopped, checked and questioned at airports. But they didn’t protest or cried like a crybaby and yelled or screamed-Discrimination! Racial profiling! Yankee dadagiri! Religious persecution!” Immigration Officials were just doing their job to keep their country safe that’s it. What might seem irrational for an onlooker is nothing but mere following of their responsibilities as immigration officers. Well its not India, where the rules are meant to be broken to accommodate anyone who confidently delivers: “pata hai main kaun hun?” or “pata hai mera baap kaun hai?” Come on- lets get real. SRK might be an icon to Indians; even to the desi Diaspora spread across the globe, but to America he’s just a visitor. We may be convinced he cannot be involved in anything that’s remotely violent, but the guard given the responsibility of stopping something like 9/11 from happening in his country again will want to take no chances. It is quite ridiculous that Indians feel their icons are everybody’s icons. What the heck? If Jet Li came to India tomorrow, very few would give him a second look. Matt Damon was here recently and there wasn’t a traffic jam in Delhi. These guys are huge back home. Moreover, America doesn’t have a culture of fawning the way India does. Mike Tyson was treated like a common rapist and spent most part of his youth in the slammer. Winona Ryder was sentenced to a three-year probation for shoplifting. We are actually aggrieved because we are ‘‘not like them’’. Guess what, it isn’t a virtue. We should be like them and take the security of our country with solemn, no-nonsense professionalism. Frisk Brad Pitt when he lands in India next. Give Tom Cruise the same dose. Don’t spare Bill Clinton either. Isn’t he an exprez, just like Kalam? Who’s stopping us and what’s stopping us? Colonial hangover? Or is it plain callousness? Looks like both. SRK says he’s ‘‘upset and angry because it was his Muslim name that caused all this’’. Countless Muslims are made to go through extra security checks everyday in America and other Western countries. Is he equally upset at that? He’s probably just miffed that it happened to him, India’s mega star. Well, America is a different country post 9/11, one that takes the killings of its people with the seriousness it deserves, unlike India whose record on this is shameful. Does anyone recall the movie titled, Sarfarosh? The story revolved around a famous singer from Pakistan who was much loved in India and was a toast to the millions of Indian fans but he eventually turned out to be a terrorist. Now we all know that that was a movie but sometimes the reel life can resemble the real life. If a Hansie Crownie, the much-respected South African cricketer can be a match-fixing enabler then anyone can be anything. At least theoretically! Nobody should be exempt from detailed scrutiny if the initial checks point out that more detailed checks are required. After all who could have imagined that the lovable Munna Bhai once kept an AK 47 in his house! Not long back if the former Defence Minister of India can be searched and the most revered ex-President of India can be frisked, then surely SRK can be detained too. Is a film star to be attached more importance than the former President of our republic? In India we take everything very seriously and attach our emotions to it. It is the country, which has temples for Amitabh Bachchan and Rajnikanth why?? because some people think they are great actors. We give undue credit to cricketers, politicians, and film stars. If they’re in a queue we let them pass through, if they are visiting a city the entire security and traffic is diverted. In India every 3rd person is a self proclaimed VIP asking for VIP treatment wherever they go. We Indians are too used to VIP treatment, even at the cost of security considerations. We are just whimpering over here like hurt puppies because we feel, ‘‘Oh, but we don’t do it to them’’. Oh no, we don’t. And it’s a scandal. We should. Instead of making SRK’s detention an issue, we should think of upgrading our own security apparatus. There’s a lesson in this — a positive one. The bottom line: Stop fawning, shed the colonial hangover and make no compromise where the country’s safety is concerned. It is time our movie stars, politicians, cricketers and other ‘self-proclaimed VVIPs’ wake up to few international ground realities and think of themselves as mortals. The outside world is neither interested nor impressed by any individual’s local status or bank balance. It is not about fans waving and asking for autographs. It is not about claiming friendship with Hillary Clinton or Obama. You may be India’s biggest business tycoon or Desi Superstar. But out there you are an anonymous nobody - nothing more and nothing less than a name and a number – deal with it.

The Last Past Week

2009-08-20T21:56:00.002+05:30

I landed from my flight and to my dismay I felt as if I entered a blast furnace. That was my first feeling when I landed in Indira Gandhi International Airport on Saturday morning at 9:00 am. A drastic change from HOT looking chic’s (KF airhostess) to HOT weather, which I despise. Yes, I was in Delhi the capital of India. Few hours back in Bangalore I was searching for my jacket to keep myself warm from the weather outside. While traveling from airport to Noida where I was to put up for next two days I realized the rise in the mercury. Hot to hotter, hotter to hottest by noon hitting it to 46 Deg. August is blowing hot... like nothing seen for years in Bangalore. As I was admiring the expressways and the metro I realized that I was at my destination and had already traveled 41 kms in just a matter of 35 mins. That is definitely one thing that Delhi scores hands down over Bangalore even though it would lose in terms of weather. New Delhi—the power hub of one of the world’s most vibrant democracies, home to fabled gali-kooche and multi-lane flyways and yes, one of India’s greenest cities! For most, Delhi is the face of India—an icon in its own right. As we get set to celebrate the 62nd year of India’s Independence I landed in the city for some leadership training from my company (not from our so called political leaders :P). I got in touch with some of my old buddies who were settled in Noida and Gurgaon (and yes this is definitely NOT Delhi – It is as Delhi as Mysore or Mangalore to Bangalore). Over the next one week I did the training in Gurgaon and tried all methods to beat the heat. Gurgaon, with monster malls and futuristic high rises, is frequently called the poor man's Singapore. Gurgaon lives up to its name of being Concrete Jungle with its high raised buildings and multilane expressways. Finally after a week full of gyan on leadership in HOT weather and HOTTER chic’s around I was done with my training and it was time to leave and get back to namma bengaluru. Even though my stay was limited and packed with schedules I loved the place, people and the get together with old buddies. Finally, I am back in namma ooru and woke up to pleasant morning of Independence Day. Somehow I missed my home that day. My parents are old-fashioned patriots who ensure that special delicacies are prepared on the eve of 15th of August, since they felt it was exceedingly important to celebrate 'Freedom'. Freedom, not just from foreign rule.... but as a basic human right. They also believed it was important for them as parents to convey to us that this precious freedom was worth guarding with our own lives. There were no delicacies at home this year. It is yet another dull, uninspiring and listless day with only one hope that it was still beginning of Saturday and Monday was still far away.

The Great Indian "DAL" Scam

2009-07-30T23:24:00.003+05:30

Inflation has surged and threatening the ‘feel good’ factor that the Manmohan Singh government promised before the elections. You might be wondering that how come I’m hoping that Indian government would fulfill promises. I know promises are meant to be broken but still the hope is that the government is going to take some steps to help the economy grow in this recession period. Just trying to be lil optimistic. Now, just when the buildup for the new government is beginning, the inflation nightmare is back in flying colors, with the potential to undermine Congress’s agenda. While the poor — an influential category that Congress successfully wooed during the elections with its “aam aadmi plank”, are the worst sufferers. I remember reading as a child that once upon a time India was known as "sone ki chidiya (golden bird)". But now in 21st century it re-christened itself to land of scams. We all know about the famous Bofors scam, Telgi, Fodder (Chara), Shares and the recent Stayam Corporate scam. But I guess what tops all is “The Great Indian Dal Scam” which got uncovered as a result of the skyrocketed prices of pulses in Indian market. Government has imported a variety of pulses from the world market and stored it in various ports to be distributed in the local market in controlled prices to curb the inflation. The dal that was said to be imported for the aam aadmi didn’t reach the aam aadmi rather it went down the drains due to sheer negligence of the spineless government whose motive was to make money out of the basic human needs. The agricultural minister Sharad Pawar doesn’t have any answer to the carelessness and no one is there to take the onus for the 15-lakh tonnes of rotten pulses across various ports of India which amounts to 300 crores from our pockets paid as taxes. These pulses were not released to the local markets, as the ministers were more involved in plotting how to make money spent recently for their victory in the recent elections. Prices of pulses have risen to such an extent that some harried families even find meat a cheaper option. Not just exotic broccoli and mushrooms but the relatively affordable tomatoes, onions and potatoes - basic ingredients in most Indian meals - are moving away from the common man's reach as prices continue to soar because of our so called incompetent government. The daily used tur dal, which used to be 36-38 per KG, is now available at 5-star rates of 96-98 per KG. NDTV’s special report about the day-to-day life, infact hand-to-mouth living of the common man (like me) directly takes us to the dismay of downhearted common man who is directly and mostly affected with the soaring prices of his basic needs - Dal, rice and vegetables. Many households have entered the uncomfortable zone with each tick marked before rising prices - balancing the checkbooks. These are all essential items in an Indian household and the government is not doing anything to help us out of this crisis. Expenditure is unmanageable in the festive season and now ordinary living is also a hassle. To manage the home budget for a common man is getting more difficult with each passing day. Rising prices have hurt the living style of those who live on modest incomes. In the last one year India has noticed an abrupt rise of 10 to 60 per cent in pulse rates, making it quite testing for the poor to find the money for even basic nutrients and now our lower strata even will have to survive without protein-rich pulses. Even as city dwellers are worried about the price rise, suppliers and traders on the other hand are hoarding essential commodities to create artificial crisis. It is time for the Government authorities to instigate action against such suppliers and bring in relief from the increase in prices. However, this is the time when the opposition party would launch a nationwide stir against the Congress government for its failure to arrest rising prices instead of joining hands in coming up with some solution. These are one of those testing times when the government has to come up with something brilliant to prove their competency. Till then I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Fir bhi dil hai hindustani !!

2009-07-20T13:22:00.003+05:30

Namma ooru- Bangalooru

2009-07-06T20:28:00.005+05:30

Bangalore - a city known for its lush green gardens, scenic beauty and great weather all year round. Bangaloreans claim that the city is an Indian metropolis with a modern outlook. It is supposed to be the heart of the booming Indian software and electronics industry.

Sure, the illusion lasts for a week or a month. But let me tell you what Bangalore is really like when the smokescreen clears. For the metropolitan city that it is embracing people from all over the country, how about having a street sign in English or Hindi, for God’s sake! All road signs are in the local language, Kannada. Even the public transportation has signs in Kannada alone. I thought Chennai was bad when they insisted on putting up anti-Hindi protests everywhere. But at least they compensate for it by writing the bus destinations in English as well as Tamil!

Now to the root cause of the problem, the people of Bangalore. The state has been aptly named "Kar-natak" (make a scene). Sometime back they have imposed a seven-week moratorium on all non-Kannada movies here, meaning that movies in all other languages will be released only seven weeks after they have released in the rest of the country. This is supposed to uplift the sagging Kannada film industry, since nobody, not even a kannadiga, watches their lousy movies otherwise. Has anybody heard of anything more preposterous than this? Maybe Thackeray’s plan of driving all non-Maharashtrians out of Mumbai came close.

Even with the "modern and broad" outlook the Bangaloreans have, companies still prefer to recruit only from local colleges, preferably kannada speaking populace. During official meetings, lunch or any other team gatherings, they speak almost exclusively in Kannada, so a non-speaker (like me) is absolutely flabbergasted in all weekly meetings and conferences. And to think that the French are snobbish!! Public transport: Autos: another big pain the ass. The drivers are rude and are very choosy as in which route passenger they would take. Aren’t they supposed to take any fare as per law? Thanks to our disfunctional police staff who are more engrossed in making money out of the thelawalas and roadside chaiwalas. The auto drivers have very outrageously lamest possible excuses for not taking a particular fare. Some samples when asked for a ride- Its too far (why the hell would I take a ride if its close by?). Its too close (really? I think I should walk instead), There is lot of traffic (and you do not want to contribute to the traffic?) I wont get a return customer from there (how about I drop you back here?) and and the list goes on. Another problem, if you don’t have change you are screwed. Fisrtly the meter runs faster than the olympic winner and on top of that you end up paying extra bucks as they would never have change. I mean common guyz you are working stop begging for heavens sake. $#@&^%. Nightlife: A typical Cosmopolitan city like bangalore which has a sizeable section of youth, business travelers, tourists and even local citizens, is devoid of night life. Bangaloreans, who work late into the evening and need some time for relaxation and recreation cannot do anything after 11:30 pm. Its sad that the Sillicon Valley of India is forcefully slipped into sleep before cindrella hours while the other countrymen in different cities have good time till late hours. The reason offered out for such rule is to control crime rate and safeguard the citizens from the mishaps at belated hours. Many big cities of the world allow an active nightlife but are by no means unsafe. Moreover, this shows sheer incompetancy of the local “4 kilo tond waale so called policemen”.

Still, one learns to get around. For all the deriding remarks I made about the people here, I must say this: there are some who are very helpful in every way possible. Some of them even go out of their normal routine to help a stranger out, which is unheard of elsewhere in the country. They are also very conscious of their image and communicate very well beyond the language barriers that exist. Even though Bangalore is a sleepy little town, people sure are active during the hours that the city is awake. Not too many lazing around, it’s a nice thing to see. Take in the good and filter out the bad, that’s what I am here to do. While in Bangalore… "Namma ooru, Bangalooru!"

Reminiscence of my past Quarter Century

2009-06-22T12:04:00.006+05:30

Today on 22nd Jun 2009, which happens to be my birthday, I sit here in my cubicle scribbling down this piece of post. Over the past couple of years birthdays have not been a special occasion, as it used to be when I was a toddler. Now a days, its just another day, jab main mann maarkar office jaata hun and work till I drop. Today in the midst of colleagues, sitting in the boardroom, unable to receive calls from friends and relatives, I wonder how this particular day has changed over the past quarter century of my existence. I remember as a child my birthday used to be a special occasion with new clothes and shoes to wear, mom’s special delicacies to feed on and some extra generous savings from granny to make the piggy bank little heavier. Colored balloons decorating the hall, Mickey Mouse shaped cake, colorful candles and entire gang of bachcha party singing the happy birthday jingle. When I close my eyes, I recall my happiest days as a child. Those were the days of innocence, fun and frolic. 28 years ago on the same day, a baby boy was escorted into the world, crying loud enough for a deaf man to get a pair of earmuffs lest his eardrums go tattered. After all it’s the momma's job to tell me that unless I kept quiet gabbar aa jaayega. Months rolled up and I grew up into a pretty normal kid who thought thumb is gods candy so I hogged on it. Funny days were those. I used to toddle about the dining room and reach the kitchen to see momma cook, waiting anxiously for her to look and throw an endearing smile at me, and when she did, I would chuckle and clap my hands singing in my own baby language loudly, and eventually land on my bums. I kept repeating this act while she was in the kitchen. And at the end of it, when she was done with her chores, she would hug me and kisses followed and I sang even louder. Ahh the joys of the first-born kids. As the days passed by the young toddler turned into a very naughty lad who used to take pleasure in destructing any random object available within 2 feet height. As mom recalls I used to break the glass jars and bottles because I loved the sound of breaking glass. What a unique music lover was I. Once I even dropped my younger brother while mom was busy with her usual household chores. I picked him and bang… my brother was on the floor crying with a bump on his head while I was all clapping with chuckle. And what followed were spankings from momma. In our building a motley crew of about 10 of us ran around with gay abandon, unbothered by adult concerns. If we fell, which we did, bandages and our mothers’ love awaited our scraped knees back home. We were the noisiest lot; we would fight, cry, cold shoulder each other, but would eventually patch up. Unlike kids now, we didn’t brandish cellphones. But we left voice messages for each other the old-fashioned way. “Will you come out to play?” we’d shriek. It did not matter if one were on the ground floor and the friend, on the third, much to the chagrin of snoozing adults. As the years went by, play was abandoned for studies. The noise of children mellowed and the drone of television took over however naughtiness grew proportionately. I used to gasp seeing Sunny deol planting his "dhaai kilo ka haath" on the "chaar kilo ki tond" of bollywood villains and how He-Man and Spiderman used to send hooligans flying in air with their karate kicks. I remember once I kicked the door after I was back from school...Mom heard the loud bang...Two slaps later I was as calm as gurudutt silently scribbling my homework. PS: My mom’s a pro in slapping though, all thanks to yours truly. I have given her enough chances while growing to practice on me. Eventually years rolled by and the kid grew up to become apna desi no nothing Engineer slogging hard to make a living. Today after 28 years history repeated itself and yes it’s my birthday sans the balloons or cake or the happy birthday jingle. How I wish I could carry myself back to those fun-filled days when having fun was more important than feeding the ego, sunday special delicacies by mom were awaited more than the pizza delivery guy, when dad’s shoulders were the highest place in the world, the annual visits to the circus/zoos were eagerly awaited, when dadi/nani ki kahaniyon ke imaginary jaadugars were more scarier than our managers or deadlines. While I jotted these memories, I clutched my childhood close and left the chaotic present for a while only to realize that we cant get back what we have already passed.

Wanna Salsa ?

2009-06-10T11:41:00.001+05:30

Arms were everywhere, shooting up towards the sky, sliding off each other’s arms and backs, and you could only wonder if they had discovered some magical potion that cuts through everything. Sweat dropped off their brows and clung desperately to their clothes but the smiles never waned. Pirouetting on pencil heels and looking ever so electric in their colorful tops, they locked themselves into the arms of the men and flowed like wind. Welcome to the enchanting world of salsa and salseros where the greatest high is dancing, and not alcohol or smoke. For years I was intimidated every time I walked into a club with four left feet. I would freeze at the thought of someone asking me to dance. Sometime back couple of my friends joined salsa classes and in no time they were electrifying the stage with their moves. When I saw them flowing to the tunes I can’t stop myself. What is instantly appealing about Salsa is that being essentially a social dance, it attracts and brings together all kinds of people with a magnetic energy that cuts across age, culture, language and any other human boundaries. I have seen the plainest, shyest, so called insignificant men and women transform into graceful, passionate and poetic movers on the dance floor. Learn the basics, feel the music and let yourself go. Immediately yours truly also enrolled to the next batch and now here I am in F-Bar moving to the beats. The pulse of salsa music has a hypnotic quality; it gets under your skin and makes you move almost involuntarily. What attract the common dancer to salsa are the elegant yet sensual glides and twirls. Two people, who may be perfect strangers, can connect and move to salsa, even if only for five minutes. While merengue and jive are peppier, salsa is more passionate and stylish. I attend classes during the weekends and in the evening, there are performances ranging from the exotic, to the energetic to the sublime. So what if Bangaloreans aren’t ‘technically’ allowed to shake a leg? That doesn’t stop us from getting out there and hitting the dance floor — on a weekday! Three weeks back was the first in series of Tuesday night Salsa’s at F-Bar. We went after work and grooved to the moves till the Cinderella hours. As I’m just a beginner, I managed to stamp on my partners feet couple of times without any guilty feeling :D. As experts say, the key is not to be scared of mistakes, but to live with them, bash on and just keep dancing. That’s the only way to learn. Apart from the fun and learning new art, the newfound friends are an added bonus. But most importantly, I have found yet another way to express myself, and get closer to my soul. The salsa fever is catching up fast and I believe pretty soon everybody would know how to salsa. From classes at various gymkhanas to dedicated nights at Casa Del Sol and F-Bar, lively music, sensual yet not-too-intimidating moves and a very social, interactive couple dance—are the key ingredients for the success of-Salsa. Wanna dance???

Birthday Party

2009-06-02T15:25:00.001+05:30

The other day I was invited to my manager’s daughter’s birthday party. As all of my colleagues were attending, so, I also decided to make my esteemed presence. The party hall was decorated with balloons hanging really low. Though in different colors, each had only one particular hue. They were either fully blue or wholly red or completely pink. These were not like the balloons of our childhood. Colored balloons then were always spotted by other tints in ink-drop sizes. In those days, balloons were always taped close to the ceiling, well beyond the reach of our eager, grasping hands. Hopeful, we stood below them waiting for the string to loosen its grip and let them go. Often when the elders were busy clapping for the birthday child, we pulled the nearest chair, climbed furtively and then in small bursts of energy tried to pull the balloons down. On good days, the risk paid off. On bad, of which there were many, the chair creaked loudly, called a grown-up’s attention leading to the inevitable tongue-lash. The color of a twisted, temporarily misshapen ear often matched the blotchy hues on the balloons. It worked both as a remembrance of the deed, and a warning of the punishment to come. As the balloons fell petal-softly, I was the only one watching their descent. The urge surfaced. Get to them before others do. Then hold them close for the rest of the evening lest they escape and float into other outstretched arms. But there was no mindless scramble for the falling balloons. The adults, and now yours truly was one of them, were intent on the food piled on their plate. The kids had other things to beguile them — a clown and a swimming pool. What did — or didn’t — we have that made these things so dear to us? We didn’t have the clowns at our birthday parties. With luck, we would get to see those at the annual visit to the circus. Our party meal was served in paper plates, one helping, no more. A slice of plum cake, five-six wafers, a samosa, an orange-colored drink. Maybe that is why at this party, all who were seven in 1988 and before chose to dwell on the food. I turned and took one last look at the bereft balloons before leaving. I clutched my childhood close and left the balloons fallen behind.

Rain Reigns Again !!

2009-05-22T21:34:00.005+05:30

Yay! Looks like monsoon has finally set in Namma Bengaluru. We had the season’s first shower yesterday, just about an hour before I was about to start from office. Going down the memory lane, I fondly recollected those exciting youthful days when I used to be at home. We have extended asbestos shed in our house where we used to park our scooter. The splattering of rain on the corrugated ceiling, chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs had a heavenly rhythm, a sensuous soothing cadence all rolled into one. The icing on the cake was mummy ke haathon bane pakode aur garma garm chai. Mmmm… I can still feel the taste of it. As I got back to reality, I realized that sweet music and tasty snacks were replaced with blaring horns and muddy sweet syrup supposedly tea. Anyhow, the showers got a respite from the heat. I noticed everybody rushed to the windows and corridors to see the rain! Funny, how the spell of rain can change a busy and serious workday into chaos, fun and laughter. Soon, it started pouring cats and dogs. Lightning and thunder added their bit to the season’s first pour. For once, the office didn’t seem so drab. The light above my desk did not look like the one above a criminal being interrogated by a cop in the police station. I didn’t feel like hitting a few selected characters in office or smack on their grinning faces. For once, the egoistic attitude of certain other characters seemed bearable. Deadlines seemed achievable. Colleagues seemed tolerable. Managers felt like buddies. Just when I was about to start I saw that there were no menacing dark clouds however it continued to drizzle. It was just a perfect weather to go on a long drive. To fulfill my heartfelt wish, my company cab screeched next to me. As I left for home, the trees looked greener, the rain having washed off their long-accumulated dust. As vehicles sped past, I could hear the splash of water and see the light reflected from the small puddles. I got down and as I walked, I saw people thronging the "bhutta” (corn cob)’ and chai stalls on the roadside. There were traffic jams near these stalls and on roads, which is not a surprise! Both the customers and the stall owners were having a field day! People here sure know how to enjoy themselves to the fullest. On the way, I noticed a poor family cooking food huddled inside a large drainage pipe, sheltering them from the rain. They were laughing and enjoying. Talk about contentment and making the most of what you have! Somehow, it brought a smile to my face. It was one of those days when I was grateful that I had a warm home and a family to go back to. The bowl of steaming Maggi noodles I had that night seemed heavenly after that!

It's cloudy today. Might rain. Might not. According to the newspaper, monsoons have not officially set in. Full-fledged rains are expected only towards the very last part of the month. A few hoardings and trees fell down and 2 people have been reported dead in yesterday’s rain! Couple of cars met their dreadful fate in the rain yesterday and here I am cozily snuggled in my bed playing inky pinky ponky to decide If I should go to work or not?

Rani (HB and 4B Pencils)

2009-05-14T11:21:00.002+05:30

Why do women want to marry?

2009-05-13T16:54:00.004+05:30

Last week I saw this wonderful movie: “He is just not into you”. There are 2 characters Neil Jones (Ben Affleck) and Beth Bartlett (Jennifer Aniston) who have been living in together since 7 years. Beth wants to get married while Neil does not believe in the institution called marriage where you have to actually spend huge money just to announce to the world of your love and commitment to each other. His explanation is that two best friends does not need a formal event like marriage to show that they care, love and are committed to each other then why does they need marriage when he is totally committed, responsible and in love with Beth. Doesn’t that make sense? Before you guys pounce on me let me tell you I do believe in the institution called marriage. It is just that after watching the movie a thought struck to me. Why do women want to marry? Imagine this: A young couple walks into a Café on a Saturday evening. As she sits opposite her date, sipping on a crème frappe, she runs her hand through her hair, moony-eyed she is already visualizing her family album. She of course has decided that he is the one — which is why she even bothered to go out with him. She knows that she will make a great wife and mother. She will also never fight with her mother-in-law, sister-in-law and, yes, she would make the best granddaughter-in-law ever. She also knows that with time and her loving attentions, she will make a better person of the guy, who is right now busy checking out the babe seated on the opposite table in minis. Girl: Stop checking out that girl in minis. Boy: Girl??? Who??? Where??? No, I was not looking at anyone… you are mistaken. Girl: hmm… so tell me what was I saying? Boy, who is caught totally off guard, thinks hard but his brain is still stuck at those smooth unending legs on the opposite table. So, to save himself from all the tsunami he is about to face, he handles the situation very cautiously. Boy: I Love You jaan. Girl: Really? cho chweet. Did you talk to your parents about us? This is probably the most common thing that happens in a relationship after a year or so. Ever wonder what drives a smart, young and liberated city girl to enter into a hand-me-down institution like marriage. The pressure to get hitched has always been there. An Indian woman views dating solely as a marriage platform. Even the first world sees an unattached woman as odd. The single urban girl leaves home for college or her workplace with a garland in her head. The modern variation of a swayamvar. Colleges and offices are marriage bureaus. The drive to become financially independent has a lot to do with finding the right guy too. A woman of course has always been categorically told that her in-law’s place is her real home. So while a city girl behaves and looks like her sisters in Manhattan, she spends her 20s and early 30s pining for a knight, if not his rescue act. “You think of getting married at 25. Thirty is like going over the hill, a different decade.” So as she walks about with a composed air in branded trousers, talking business with her junior male colleague or errand boy on her cell phone, she instinctively checks out every decent-looking man for a trophy husband. One who will make a great support system for her and their subsequent brood. Even the most coveted females are not untouched by the prehistoric bug. “We are social animals and have been brought up with the concept of permanent families. For a woman, marriage is all about security. Even women who are doing very well professionally want a man who can ‘support’ them. That they do not need the support is a different story. Even at the end of this post I cant figure out “why do women want to marry?” If you are a women reading this please enlighten me.

Sketching Continues !!

2009-04-28T16:48:00.003+05:30

Volvo Ki Sawari

2009-04-25T10:06:00.006+05:30

After years of trying to build roads and flyovers, Namma Bengaluru government decided to change track to address the woes of city commutation and invest in new buses: Volvos for the general public. For daily travelers to office in Bengaluru, the Volvo bus is a familiar experience. With the traveling time ranging anywhere between 1 to 2 hrs for a stretch of mere 10 –15 kms the old city buses experience was awful. The city buses used to be crowded, with people hanging from all possible directions like makdee ke jaale in a haunted bhootiya haveli from Ramsay movie. You will be surrounded by all kinds of crowd starting from the bhaajiwalas with their bhaaji ki tokri to software professionals with their 10-kilo lappies. As the crowd increases you will end up smelling the co-passengers sweat covered armpits or the combination of cheap deodorants and some half hearted farts. You might also have to stand face to face with the chaiwalas who would have his mouth filled with gutkha, which you are scared that he might puke on your fav shirt any moment. If you are spared there, you will probably encounter some unwanted nose digged fingers and crotch scratching hands on your favorite Louis Philippe Shirt. With the sinking heart crossing all hurdles, smelling like a fisherman, when you reach your destination you are in no way presentable either to the client or your boss who happens to come to work in his new Camry with un-crumpled shirt smelling of Hugo Boss. *&%%$ Thanks to the government, which heard the software professional’s woes and launched the Volvos for commuting. Off late I’ve started taking the Volvo to work instead of the company vehicle, which shows up before the pados ka murga decides to get out of its cozy bed. The Air-conditioned Volvo is the good option to hop in and catch on an extra 1-hour sleep while the monster does a nagina number on the so-called roads, scaring the hell out of the poor pedestrians. As soon as I hopped into the bus, the TT babu popped up like a matrimonial ad of shaadi.com to make me halka by some rupees, before I could manage to make myself stand in that bheed bhaad. While I stood in a corner groggily, hunting for a prospective commuter who’d get down at the nearest stop, I was poked hard in my ribs by the fellow passenger who got off-balance by the roller coaster ride in the city roads. I thought of yelling “teri **** ki... But considering the language management, I controlled myself. Very soon the bus started getting flooded when, one-bhala manas decided to get down and I grabbed his seat like a hawk. I made myself comfortable in the seat and switched on my new I-pod. By now all my sleep was gone and I was wide-awake and following are the different categories of people I noticed for the rest of my journey. Sleeping Beauties: These are generally those uncles who would probably have Aruna Irani or Himani Shivpuri type wives at home who wouldn’t let them sleep all night. What are you smiling at you dirty mind I meant not letting them sleep by continuous nagging like our bollywood vamps. These bechare sataaye hue mard are so sleepy that stranded traffic, blaring horns or the human chaos in the bus doesn’t bother them. It seems like they have grabbed their seats as the bus rolled out of the manufacturing plant. Some of them would have their mouth wide open enough for a baby hippo to pass through without getting hurt. To add on you will probably see a Ganga flowing out of their khula muh making a small puddle for gully ke bachche to swim. College ka Chokras: This is generally a group of 5-6 boys in their early 20s with faded and /or torn jeans, champu shades and long unruly hairdos- in short Chunkey Pandey Chaap students. Every word they utter would be sandwiched by a swear word beep beep. Once the brats are done with getting their feet placed in the bheed, they are set to explore the bus for those "F-16 to F-22"s. They scan through the entire bus and the data is shared among them to come with some vital information as to where they need to oscillate to and fro for the entire journey. Yeah, I used to be one of them few years back. Padhakus: In contrast to the college brats you can also see some padhakus with 4 inch thick glasses engrossed in rattofying probably the last commas and full stops in the book. These are the kinds who look forward for exams all year and write endlessly from the moment the question paper is distributed and take extra sheets and sometimes-extra pens to puke in everything in their brains about the subject. At the end of the exams they would make the gloomiest face possible coz they would realize that they have not answered question 5 ka part C, which is worth 0.5 marks. $^&%#@ Gadget Gurus: These people board the bus wired either with a cell phone or an I-pod that they got from their recent onsite visit. These people have their ears plugged throughout the time. When the TT asks for the ticket they would shout at their highest pitch so that the passengers in next bus know where they are going to get off. They would hum the song that’s playing in their Indian Idol voice, which would probably fetch them some chawannis outside. The callers are no less. They would smile all for themselves and suddenly shout out loud with words like “Listen to me, No No thatz not what I am saying”. Paunchy Techies: This is the breed of men where I belong (and probably you also). These are the uptight men wearing full formals sucking their paunches in to evade the un-required attention on their potbellies from the giggly HR girls in front. Needless to say these are the fellow techies with assorted Id’s around their neck, brownish newspapers under their armpits, cheap and heavy laptops clinging on to their shoulders. You can see the manager’s fire in their bellies, demons of variable pay haunting them and the release dates approaching faster than the weekends or salaries. With the fast rising pink slips and slow moving traffics you can hear their frustrations loud and clear even in the chaos of the city bus. Furry Females: These are the category of so-called fur ball girls who board the bus with a look of behenji in their attitude. Their untrimmed mustaches and stubble beard reminds you of unshaven look of our Khiladi Kumar. The hair on their hands would be enough to make a fur coat for 2 grizzly bears. I wonder haven’t they heard the term called “waxing”? Their furry hands would even force Anil Kapoor to cover his sleeves in shame. Well it definitely makes me roll-down my sleeves. Observing from one passenger to other, how time flew I didnt realize. Finally my stop came and I got down. I realized that my shirt is not crumpled and the Dunhill is still smelling as fresh as I left few hours back. In short the Volvo is sawari is fulltoo paisa wasool. However, this khushi was ephemeral. Looking at the high-raised tinted glass building where I have to be for the next 8-9 hours or may be more, my heart sank. Being left out with no choice with heavy heart I walked into that building to suffer the pangs of my existence. By the way why dont you take a Volvo ride while I get back with my next post? It fun !! Trust me...

My Recent Sketches !!

2009-04-22T16:42:00.004+05:30

Try Again

2009-04-15T20:47:00.003+05:30

When you feel tierd and lost,

Not getting the way at any cost.

The path is hard and a bit rough,

And every step so very tough.

The end of it is not in sight,

And you have lost the urge to fight.

Life is worth living and fighting for,

Not to defeat and leaving for.

It easy to give up and accept defeat,

But the brave will willingly repeat.

Will and dedications are steps to the top,

Journey is hard, but you cannot stop.

Don't give up but try again and again,

A different life you may regain.

The Chosen One

2009-04-14T20:47:00.001+05:30

Here I sit in the training class, Like a blonde learning finance They are talking about architecture and design Seems like everyone’s plotting to make me resign. They are talking Verification, Validation, Designing and Planning’s Oh God!! Why are they using Greek, French and Latin wordings? Sitting in a corner keeping my fingers crossed Hoping to go invisible before questions are asked Surrounded by Smarty’s in their late 30’s I feel like a kiddo still in his chaddis Wishing a small unharmed earthquake Or at least a fire without any life at stake Anything, to make the training stop I SMSed the almighty back to back Non-Stop Before the SMS reached the Intended Lord Trainer caught me totally off-guard He started bombarding with questions To embarrass me, being his sole intention Miraculously, answers poured out of me Everyone was taken aback, including me That question woke me up far and wide While the trainer proceeded to his next slide I was awake for the rest of the class And tried to participate with the mass After 4 long hours the training was done With little “Gyaan” I got, I felt I am “The Chosen One”

Sri Ram Sene

2009-03-02T18:23:00.004+05:30

In 21st century when we Indians are celebrating our 60th Republic day, we get to hear the horrific incident in Mangalore by the self-appointed cultural cops calling themselves Sri Ram Sene. The chaos unleashed by the so-called samaaj ke rakhwaale has outraged in the coastal city acting as catalyst in some other parts of the nation. The lethargic response of the police in this matter is the best example of our incompetence and rise of Jungle Raj. Sometime back in one of my posts, I mentioned how we Indians take extreme pride in our culture and go beyond our ways to protect it and pass on to the next generations; but I didn’t thought my article will jagaao all the wrong kinds of people. LOL Jokes apart, violent attacks by hoodlums inspired by extreme ideologies — be it regional chauvinism, religious prejudice or a twisted sense of our Indian tradition and ethos — are becoming an alarmingly frequent feature of our times. The incident sometime back in Mangalore, in which women were physically assaulted by a bunch of goons bearing allegiance to the Sri Ram Sene — simply because they chose to visit a pub is further evidence of this phenomenon. Like those associated with other extremist right-wing groups, members of the Sri Ram Sene are self-appointed custodians of ‘Bharatiya Sanskriti’. Is beating up women also part of this culture? Our culture and traditions have never been static. Through the centuries, they have been shaped and reshaped by historic events and interactions with other cultures. Today, there could be more than a billion ways of being Indian in the Indian Silicon Valley. It’s worrying that small groups of people can hold the public to ransom and assault our collective liberties with such perceptible ease. Aren’t we part of a democratic country where we have the freedom to our actions? Today some group thinks pubs are not a part of culture, agreed. What if other group feels that we should stop talking in foreign languages (English included) and stick only to our local languages? What if some other group starts harassing people saying that t-shirts and jeans are not part of our culture and we should only wear dhoti/lungi and kurta? On that note I remember reading in the paper where 2 girls were beaten up for wearing jeans in Bangalore. Where do you draw a line to such ideologies? Such groups act like an anchor stopping the nations progress. The most troubling fact is that our state home minister has not helped in this matter at all. He told that the pub owners must “augment security to prevent this kind of incident in future”. What is the minister suggesting? That we privatize the enforcement of law and order? Isn’t it the government’s job to ensure public security? What are we paying the taxes for? Be it against Raj Thackeray in Mumbai or similar troublemakers elsewhere, administrations move too slowly and feebly, undermining citizens’ faith in their ability to secure law and order. Couple of dozen men involved in the pub attacks have been taken into custody but immediately released without any action. The state government’s condemnations of the incident and stated resolves to suitably punish the guilty have evaporated long back. People say times have changed. What are we referring to when we say that? Is it India winning gold medal at the Olympics? A black becoming President of USA? India bagging an Oscar? Or is it John kissing Abhishek? Is this what we call change? Is it what we are referring to progress? Nothing has changed for the common man. Common man still struggles to meet his basic needs. Its time that we rise to the calls of time and use the grey matter, for country’s progress and self in real terms.

Jay Ho

2009-02-25T14:01:00.005+05:30

India has arrived finally with Slumdog sweeping all major awards at Oscars and becoming the Slumgod. Log onto any website, check out any newspaper or tune into any radio channel this is what you would read, see and hear. But I wonder what is that makes us so proud about the 81st Oscars? Yeah I got it... the 8 Oscars right? Well let’s not forget that it’s not an Indian film that got an Oscar. It’s a British-American film about Indian slum with some Indian collaboration. It reminds me that pre-Independence they use to take raw cotton from here and process there which made us proud. If you look carefully this may be an extension of similar kind of imperialism. The hype and ecstasy that I saw on news channels seems absolute crazy for one western recognition. Now that I have pointed out a counter view to the 81st Oscars, that doesn’t make me unpatriotic at all. However, I feel that slumdog was very much similar to any bollywood entertainer and had all the required bollywood masala. I felt it had more bark than bite. I have seen the movie and no doubt it’s a good movie but was it worth an Oscar??? Well I personally don’t think so. I wonder if we would have entered the movie in the foreign film category would it have sweeped the Oscars? But yes inspite of all the not so obvious views I totally agree to the fact that it feels great to know that AR Rehman's soulful music and Gulzar's passionate lyrics have floored everyone at the Oscars. From Brad Pitt to Kate Winslet, Steven Spielberg to Meryl Streep everyone was moving to the beats of “Jay Ho". What continued was goras in traditional dhotis and mems in dazzling pink Indian outfits dancing to the tunes of Rehman. The world is still giving the standing ovation to the men who have got 3 Oscars overnight while the country was waiting for one since the days of Satyajit Ray.

Finally it seems Bollywood magic has charmed the first world. Its time they realize there is no dearth of talent back home. Hopefully this opens the floodgates of offers with more fusion of east and west coming up with FINE cinema for the audience. Jay Ho!!

AAJ TAK...

2009-01-10T13:09:00.004+05:30

Hydrabadi Dum Biryaani and home are synonymous, at least for me they are. Finally I am at home, behaving like a refugee from Somalia let loose in Mc Donald’s with free meal coupons. I was starving for ghar ka khana from 7 long months, since my last visit to my home. My taste buds have refused to acknowledge tasting the office canteen food, which I am sure; I’ll be able to scratch off by biryaani accompanied by some chicken curry. Here at home things are not all that rosy and no real "aish" is materializing as my friends back in office would think. I am as free and jobless as the marketing manager of Sourav Ganguly. TV is boring as ever and with the eyes which are used to watching un-censored stuff, detest HBO and Star-Movies where nowadays "Basic Instinct" is as holy as “Jai Santoshi Maa”. When the dialogues cease and a boy and girl come closer, in the very next scene two tota-mainaas are shown pecking each other (?) with there beaks. Pathetic!! The commercial channels like Star Plus, Sony etc air only the K-series saas-bahu sagas where everyone is plotting against each other. I remember some serials as old as my granny (100 and not out) but all the characters are as young as me. I wonder how someone can watch such bullshit, which shows the same old crap for decades with different camera angels. The news channels are no less. I’ve got this confidential news that Amitabh Bachchan ko thand lag gayi. Just have a look at an instance of the prime time news bulletin on Aaj tak.

Sanjay: "Aaiye hum aap ko le chalte hai Amitabh Bachchan ke resort pe jaha humaare samvaad daata deepak chaurasia maujood hai" "haan Deepak kya aap hamey sun sakte hai" (Deepak is on screen and he is as blank as Laloo's 10th board answer sheet) "Deepak aapko humaari awaaz aa rahee hai...Deepak" Deepak: "haan Sanjay boliye" (People behind Deepak desperate to come on TV are waving as if stranded on an island for ten years and trying to signal a far off ship in sight) "Deepak Is wakt wahan Amitabh Bachchan ki tabiyat kaisi hai? kya mahaul hai iss waqt wahaa par?" Deepak: Abhi hum Manali mein Amitabh Bachchan ke resort ke saamne khade hain aur aapko bataa den ki Aaj Tak pehla channel jo ye khabar aap tak la raha hai. Sanjay jaisa ki hum sab ko pataa hai aaj subah hindustan ke Shehenshah Amitabh Bachchan ko Thand lag gayi. Subah se hi yahaa diggaj logon kaa taanta lagaa huaa hai…” Sanjay: Ye batayiye ki Amitabh ko kitni thand lagi hai? Kya wo bahut chheenk rahe hain? Kya unhone sweater bhi pahen rakha hai thand se bachne ke liye? Deepak: Haan Sanjay Amitabhji ne sweater pehen rakha hai… par aashcharya ki baat ye hai ki Jaya bachchan is gambhir sthiti mein unke paas nahi hain. Isse ye pataa chalta hai bachchan pariwar mein kucch uthal puthal ho rahi hai. Ye kayi saare sawal khade karti hai? Then suddenly the camera shifts to Sanjay in the studio when he comes to know of the fact that he is on-air and he has nothing to speak and Deepak on the other side is dictating the list of medicines prescribed by doctors. Sanjay is speechless and his face is like as if he has pissed in his pants. Sanjay: Hum aapko Amitabh ke tabiyat ki har pal khabar dete rahenge… kahin jayiyega mat… milte hain fir, break ke baad!!! Break ke baad… Amitabh Comes out his resort and Deepak rushes to him to get some exclusive footage. There's already a battery of media persons mobbing him wid "Ab aapko kaisa lag raha hai?" type questions.. Deepak: “Amitabh ji. Bataaiye aapko Thand kaise lag gayi? kaisaa mehsus kar rahe hain aap abhi??” Deepak trying to shove the microphone up his nostrils. "Amitabh ji …Amitabh ji bataaiye….” Deepak struggling. Big B looks up to his bodyguard… And immediately the telecast is switched to the studio cameras and Sanjay sitting there says in a hurried tone. “Chaliye ab chalte hai Raakhi Saawant ke paas jo ye maang kar rahee hai ki item numbers ka bhi Oscar nomination honaa chahiye.” In the meantime Deepak while trying to get some exclusive footage got some real exclusive “Foot”age on his ass from Big B’s bodyguards. As if all this is not enough what follows is a SMS poll : Aap sabhi se humara sawal hai Amitabh Bachchan ko thand kyon lagi? 1. Kyonki unhone sweater nahi pahna tha 2. Kyonki unhone DABUR ka chavanpraash nahi khaya tha 3. Unka jacket chhota ho gayaa tha 4. Manali wasiyon ki galti hai kyunki unhone Amitabh ke liye heater ka intezaam nahi kiya. Apna jawab SMS kariye XXX par aur inme se 10 lucky vijetaoon ka meilga Ek Sony Camera. kahin jaayiyega nahi kyonki aage hai:

- Aishwarya ne khaya achar… Kya poora hoga abhishek aur ash ka parivar??? - Kya wajah thi ki na hit ho pai “Sarkar Raj” Aur kitne hits ya flops dega “Bachaan Parivaar”??? Janne ke lie dekhiye AAJ TAK ... And it continued and by the time I complete this post I am sure Deepak comes to office with an ice pack stuck to his ass while I happily munch on some more homemade delicacies.

Mere Desh Mein...

2009-01-06T11:35:00.006+05:30

India a country of more than 1 billion people has stood over centuries against all odds and has contributed a lot more than zero to the world. When we talk about India, the first thing that comes to ones mind is its rich culture and values apart from our contribution to the worlds population and corruption. Ever wondered why is it that one takes so much pride in his/her culture and values? What is that makes us go beyond our ways to pass on these values to upcoming generations. We want our children to be as modern, competent and broadminded as any Tom Dick and Harry from any other country but at core we want them to be aware of our culture our roots above all our Identity. Identity as an Indian; Identity as a Singh or maybe a Rao. I’m not really sure why exactly is it important, but it definitely does a huge deal of good to a country of more than one billion people where losing your identity is as easy as losing another cell-phone. I remember when my friends go abroad their parents would be worried. Not only coz they will be alone saat sumandar paar and will not get the ghar ka khana but also what if the firang culture and free lifestyle influences them? What if they get back with a firang bahu/damad? How will they manage and how their lives would go topsy-turvy. Even today in India Love marriages outside ones religion and caste is a taboo and is not accepted whole-heartedly, because of the fear of the next generation losing their identity. Well, it does make sense; doesn’t it? A very close Muslim friend of mine wanted to settle down with a Hindu girl against all odds in filmy ishtyle. I always wondered what would their children be- a Hindu or a Muslim? Will they go to a Temple or a Mosque? When they would meet me, how will they greet -say salaam or namaste? There is always a possibility that in midst of two very different religions, cultures, customs and languages, one religion, one culture, one custom might die away. So, if parents do fear that what’s wrong in that? Before you pounce on me saying I am narrow minded and put me in the league of likes Raj Thackeray or Shiv Sena, let me clarify I am not against love marriages or inter-caste marriages. But again that doesn’t change the fact that if every one goes for inter-caste or inter-religion marriages, we would end up diluting our cultures and customs. There will be no more Hindus, Muslims or Christians. There will be no more Bengalis, Tamilians or Punjabis. Imagine a kid introducing his/her ethnicity as part Punjabi, part Tamilian, part Bengali and may be a part Gujrati or may be with names such as Tulsidas Khan, Mumtaz Iyer; which sounds more like India Pakistan Border. Cosmopolitan Kid in true sense, Isn’t it? It would be a khichdi where everyone would be as confused as Marilyn Monroe would be if asked to dance to the tunes of beedi jalayle. I’ve come across so many people till now and almost 9 out of 10 want to marry a person who they think will be able to pass on the right values to their children. DDLJ, whose core was based on such values, had dragged people to theaters continuously for over 10 years. Sooraj Barjatya was able to make people realize the importance of a joint family with super-hit movies like Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, Vivaah, Hum Saath Saath Hain, which, not only made the audience shed a tear but also swept away with critical acclaim and national awards. Movies like Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, Namsate London has shown how parents were frantic, trying to instill these values in their children. All these movies have been biggest blockbusters, which do tell us that maybe the concept of promoting ones aadarsh and sanskaar is the mantra. TV ads like Asian Paints, and the latest one by ING corporate have managed to strike the right chord simply because it has captured the essence of our country just perfectly. Even the smallest of things like a Bengali chele’s dislike to fish or a Punjabi kudi’s aversion to lassi matter to people here. We attach a lot of emotion to everything we do. We hold our values very close to our hearts and also strive hard to keep them alive and pass them on to our future generations. I guess this is what has held this country of 28 states, 22 official languages, and more than 2000 cultures as one country. Irrespective of diverse cultures, religions, and castes we are one and reinforce the idea of Vasudaiva Kutumbukam. One might wonder if it is really important to know your roots, only to realize later how well it differentiates you from other people. But at the same time, what we can definitely not doubt is the fact that it’s our consciousness of our respective cultures, which gives us this immense sense of belonging to our land and the strength to fight for or right to a safe and peaceful life here. It is this very emotional attachment to all little things we do that tells us- this land is our home and not just another house.

The D-Day

2008-12-09T16:38:00.003+05:30

As dusk falls gently over the by lanes of Kharagpur (my home), the chaos of traffic mingles with the shouts of little children who have just bought their share of firecrackers for Diwali. Its that time of year which sets people to get, set and shop. After all, there are clothes to be bought, mithais and dry fruits to be stocked, decor items needed to spiff up the home, diyas, rangoli colors… Phew! The festival of lights opens up the floodgates to the Indian shopping season. The sparkling crystal and shining silverware will be polished to gleam on every dining table. Diwali, that was originally the celebration of King Ram’s return to his home after a long exile, today is a festival of fireworks and feasting. It’s a festival of food, calorie-laden meals served out with the sole aim of indulging friends and family. And with all those treats on offer, there can be a battle between indulging and abstaining from the array of sweetmeats. This time I was at home for Diwali after almost a decade. “Has Diwali changed over the last quarter century of my existence?” I thought. The best approach would be to walk down the memory lane to find an answer to this perennial question. I remember when as kids we used to get a fixed budget of 100/- per head to get fireworks for all 3 brothers. If revolted and asked for more, My dad would get back saying - how can you be satisfied by burning up the money to ashes? Moreover I think 300 for you guys is a lot. There you go. We used to simply slip out of the room as sand slips from the fist, so that the allowance does not get deducted any further. Come diwali and we were loaded with all different kinds of firecrackers and rockets that would make the loudest possible sound. This time when I was home for diwali the experience was totally different. I was at home, attended the complete puja like a Raja beta. I was not very enthusiastic on getting the crackers like my younger brothers. After the puja, I went out to find children enjoying the fireworks. However, the loud noise was intolerable. Even Tommy the friendly and playful three-year-old was not happy with the noise. The loud cracker noise two days ahead of Diwali is enough to drive the normally docile German Shepherd to become aggressive, stop eating and ceaselessly bark all over the house, looking for places to hide. Suddenly I remembered one article I read the other day, which was talking about the high decibel levels in Mumbai during Ganesh Puja. The article said that during Ganesh Puja somewhere in Mumbai on the main street some group of people had put up a banner, which pointedly asked in Marathi, “Dev Behra Aahe Ka?” (Is god deaf?). The banner, of course, created more noise. In the midst of this noise this thought put a smile on my face. However, there is other facet of this D-day also. The most oppressive aspect of Diwali this year? Without a doubt, that slot has to be taken by the barrage of unsigned SMSes. While we all love to be greeted on a good occasion, after a while, the constant ping-ping of shubhkaamnaye from strangers who refuse to identify themselves is reduced to nothing more than nuisance value. One spends valuable time scrolling down an endless SMS, packed with highly Sanskritised words and complex images of diyas and devis. Decoding that is tough enough. What follows is worse. You go nuts trying to SMS a polite ‘thank you.’ And, of course, the message doesn’t go and ends up in the ‘Unsent’ box. ‘Network busy,’ your own screen keeps flashing as every Indian in the remotest corner of the world gets going with the Deepavali messages. I don’t know about you, but I received quite a few in a lingo I didn’t understand completely, besides, of course, greetings in English, Hindi and Telugu. I know at least two people who’ll be beaming at the all-time record usage of this modern-day scourge (SMS) – Mukesh Ambani and Ashim Ghosh. In terms of billing, it has been a great season for our leading cellphone services.

Despite of all the noise and cell phone barrage it was a great Diwali being with Family- the support of ones system. The happiness my mom and dad felt with every member at home after so long was invaluable. These are the moments, which make the D-day also a Diwali-Full of lights and bliss.

Childfree Zones???

2008-11-13T12:17:00.003+05:30

Nearly after a decade I will be home for Diwali. Due to the royal hikes in prices of flights I preferred train. The only big problem was, I have to travel for almost 2 days. Little did I know that there was much bigger hitch waiting for me. The train has many facilities, but try as you might, there’s one thing you simply cannot do in this air-conditioned train that zooms from Howrah to Bangalore— sleep through the journey. The lighting seems to be designed to keep you awake. Even if you manage to block its harsh white light by covering your face with a handkerchief, the attendants arrive, attempting to entice you with greasy scoops of samosas/chops and coffee. The food wakes you up all right, but definitely not your taste buds. And when I finally fell asleep despite such gastronomic delights, a piercing cry rent the air. No, it wasn’t a mouse scampering in the ac duct, but an impish (^%$*&^) kid, wriggling on its guardian’s lap. The woman was at her wit’s end. She tried taking her to the bathroom, walked her up and down the aisle, and even took her outside the coach for some fresh air. When nothing worked, she collapsed in exasperation. Unfortunately, next to me. Throwing etiquette to the air ducts, she let out a furious ‘Shhhhhhh....’ “Scold her, scold her,’’ the frustrated guardian egged her on. But the sleepy scribe was no match for the hyperactive tot. When the train finally rolled into Bangalore, I got up, irritated and groggy. And the troublesome tot? Blissfully asleep like an angel on her relieved guardian’s arms. Wasn’t someone speaking of childfree hotels? How about train compartments too?

But Pappu Cant Dance Saala

2008-10-20T08:16:00.005+05:30

IT’S a Friday night. It’s been a long, stress-filled week. You head to your fave nightclub that plays your kinda music. You’re seated comfortably, have ordered a drink and are slowly getting into the groove, when the DJ announces — "There’s a ban on dancing, ladies and gentlemen. We could get into trouble if we flout the rules. So please be seated at your tables. The dance floor is closed tonight". This is the scene for party animals, pub owners, BPO crowd, IT fraternity, students, and tourists in Namma Bangalooru. All we want is a nightlife- a nightlife that actually lives up at night, not one that goes to sleep well before the Cinderella hour. All those who venture out with the owls, not just for a drink, but also for a late dinner, some music and some dance agree the 11.30 pm closure deadline is unreasonable, considering the city’s cosmopolitan character. Metros like Pune are open till 12.30 am, though the moral brigade often talks of shutting down joints much earlier. Mumbai’s 1.30 am deadline leaves the city’s party crowd of Celebs and jet setters fretting and fuming. Delhi, reputed to have the best nightlife in the country, has places open till 2 am. Kolkata’s laws prohibit serving liquor after 10.30 pm but that doesn’t stop several bars and restaurants from being open till even 2 am. “We are still one country, so how come the discrimination?” Where's the party tonight? Certainly, not on the dance floors of Bangalore’s discotheques and hotels, thanks to the administration which has cracked the whip on them. Overworked and entertainment-starved Bangaloreans are vociferous in their criticism against the government for infringing upon their right to shake a leg if they chose to. Dancing in discotheques cannot be equated to something abominable; on the contrary, it’s spirited amusement for the young at heart. A city with a bustling nightlife could mean acceptable social practices like shopping, eating, drinking and dancing. The rationale behind the curbs on dancing at discotheques is beyond comprehension. The fundamental rights are defined as basic human freedoms that every Indian citizen has the right to enjoy for a proper and harmonious development of personality. But every time a new government comes to power, it imposes rules that only take us back in time rather than help us move forward. One could argue that smoking and drinking are injurious to health and the only way to stop youth from getting addicted to them is by passing legislations. Agreed. Then, what justifies the ban on dancing ? And these rules are coupled with more laws being proposed by various lobbies in view of their own ideological slant or self-interest. It’s human tendency to rebel when bound by unexplained restrictions. The reason offered out for such rule is to control crime rate and safeguard the citizens from the mishaps at belated hours. Many big cities of the world allow an active nightlife but are by no means unsafe. The authorities ought to realize that Bangalore has a sizeable section of youth, business travelers, tourists and even local citizens who work late into the evening and need some time for relaxation and recreation. Dancing, for that matter, is healthy entertainment and viewed as a stress buster. Such indifference to nightlife would only frustrate citizens who want to have a good night out — be it for shopping, dining or drinking.

Bangalore’s the only city in the country (and probably the world, barring a Taliban-ruled regime) to have dancing banned in nightclubs. Whatever be the ambiguity about the Government Order, the rationale behind the curbs on dancing at discotheques is beyond comprehension. It’s high time the police and the excise department extends the closing time for shopping malls, restaurants and bars/pubs and allow Bangaloreans to shake a leg. Regardless of being vocal about the issue and protests still, pappu can’t dance saala.

Kahaani Hamaaray Mahabharat Ki

2008-10-03T14:12:00.014+05:30

Saas-bahus on TV are now having some tough competition from Ram, Krishna and Durga! Yes, the Gods in different avatars have descended and some are on their way. Of course through mythological shows on TV! Clearly mythologies are back with a bang. They were big at one point when I was in my chaddis. Remember the frenzy when Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayana started in the late 80’s or sometime later when B R Chopra’s Mahabharata had viewers glued to their Idiot Boxes on Sundays.

Realizing the omnipresence of GOD, recently Kween of soaps "Ekta Kapoor" too has jumped on to the bandwagon and is busy with her mega project Mahabharata err its "Kahaani Hamaaray Mahabharat Ki" (opportunity to insert her lucky "K" in the title). I saw kouple of episodes and realized that my diktionary falls short of rekounting the new series. BR Chopras Mahabharata was much superior than what Ekta is offering us these days with modern technology and the moolah to spend. No doubt that Ekta has spent a good deal on the cast and crew and thanks to Manish Malhotra’s designer attire that everyone is sporting in the series. With Ekta's Mahabharat, once upon a time sari-clad Draupadi, Ganga, Kunti and Gandhari got image makover and are going the glam-way. They seem to be in stiff competition with our drama queen Ms. Rakhi Sawant by wearing the least possible piece of garments (p.s. I am not complaining). As a stand-up comedian points out- "Draupadi ne to aisi-aisi jagah tattoo banaya hai jahan purushon ka dekhna varjit hai". With bhartiya naaris stealing all the raves how can guys take a back seat? Complementing to the divas, our so-called emperors are dressed in long elegant cloaks fastened by brooches and fancy circlets. It feels as if the cast from some B-grade Roman mythology has been transported to the sets of Ekta's Saga. Like in the movie 300, everyone from the infants to oldies are sporting six packs and bulging biceps to suit their macho roles in the period drama. And hey aren’t they supposed to be Emperors, with loads of treasures to suffice for some decent jewellery (I guess adorning with too much of jewellery is middle class). All characters seems like they are clad in rags.

Apart from bizarre dressing there are many other things that would go un-noticed and make one wonder why are we watching this nonsense? If you see lord ganesha in the series, you will go Lot-Pot on the floor. His trunk looks like a hosepipe got on a sale in Big-Bazar. They should have actullay taken the cartoon ganesha from the movie "MY FRIEND GANESHA". It’s an irony that she copy pasted scenes from a commercial Hollywood movie 300. Remember the scene where young “King Leonidas” fights with a wolf in a snowstorm, the same scene has been copy pasted into the series. I wonder if Ekta was into coding earlier or was “inspired” like our dear Anu Malik. She also tried very hard to make the epic hilarious by putting some unwanted ridiculous comic scenes where you would not laugh even if you are paid for unless it’s our Sidhu Paaji. This blog is not just to criticize the efforts of Ekta but also to draw some similarities that we have with Saas-bahu Sagas. Ever thought why Ekta Kapoor chose to recreate Mahabharata of all? If we carefully examine Mahabharata have all the elements of an archetypal saas bahu sagas. It has drama, politics, back-stabbing, reincarnations, rivallary and most importantly tons of extra marital affairs and polygamy. To complement Baa in saas-bahu serials who has seen over 6-7 generations, we have Bheeshma in Mahabharata with “Ichcha Mrityu Vardaan”. Unfortunately with all the elements to get high TRP ratings and women across the country to get glued to the TV on primetime, the entire endeavor so-called Ekta's Mahabharata still remains HAHABHARAT!!

India ko Gold Medal Mil Gaya

2008-09-21T14:57:00.007+05:30

Little things make us happy. We are a bit too easy to please! One gold medal at the Olympic Games from worlds 2nd populated country, and we are over the moon. As India enters the 61st year of its independence, it’s important to get a few key perspectives in place. I heard about Abhinav Bindra’s thrilling win from a bedraggled little girl selling tabloids at the traffic lights. It was drizzling, and she was dressed in rags. Her tiny body and saucer eyes made her resemble the archetypal poster girl for poverty. She tapped on the window of my cab and said, ‘‘saab saab.... "India ko gold medal mil gaya.’’ She was shivering as she sold the damp paper to motorists, most of whom shooed her away.

The irony of the moment was hard to miss. While nobody can take away from crorepati Abhinav Bindra’s individual achievement, the image of this emaciated street kid announcing his victory in distant Beijing, was a study in horrifying contrasts. I could see her feet were immersed in puddles of filthy rain water. She could not possibly have known what that medal meant... but she did know it would sell more papers that day. And that made her happy! Amazing, how a complete stranger’s win touches lives on different levels.

For the little girl, those few extra rupees may have translated into an extra dosa/idli at dinner. But for our canny politicians, Bindra’s medal was an opportunity worth milking for their own glory. Take Maharashtra’s chief minister, who magnanimously offered Rs 10 lakh to the gold medalist. Does this rich boy need it? Where does Maharashtra come into the picture? If the CM had Rs 10 lakh to spare and wished to acknowledge Bindra’s victory, why didn’t he put that money into a sports scholarship to benefit promising youngsters? Why offer monetary awards to someone who is a millionaire to begin with? Bindra is a particularly privileged sportsman who was born with a silver spoon, in his mouth. Lucky Bindra. He had what it takes to create a champion — the grit, determination and dough! India merely happens to be the country of his birth and can claim no credit for his impressive win. Bindra rose above and beyond what his country can provide... not only to him, but millions of others. He won despite being an Indian. Isn’t that a really sad acknowledgement of this tattered state of ours?

But the girl at the traffic light proclaiming his victory to motorists does not realise this. She will never get to see the inside of a pucca home. For her, the blue plastic sheets will have to suffice. When she is a little older, her life will change. From selling newspapers, she may end up selling her body. Like so many others who survive on Metro’s mean streets, turning tricks, hustling, peddling drugs. Her bright eyes and cheerful smile will be replaced by a hard, stony expression, a twisted mouth. But chances are she will still be working on the same street, ducking into the back seat of an autorickshaw to satisfy customers looking for a monsoon quickie. Her line, ‘‘India ko gold mil gaya...’’ in such a depressing context, makes me ask, ‘‘Aur aapko kya mila— koila? Ya... woh bhi nahi?’’ Try telling her Mera Bharat Mahan. She may just punch you!

Bollywood Bloggers

2008-09-21T14:39:00.003+05:30

BLOGS have become a Bollywood buzzword. And with top actors like Aamir Khan and Amitabh Bachchan becoming active in this sphere, blogs have begun to grab more attention than ever before. We have Aamir Khan writing about how his pet dog Shah Rukh is ‘licking his feet’ and Amitabh boasting about how his Kaun Banega Crorepati ratings compare with King Khan’s Kya Aap Paanchvi Pass Se Tez Hai? While blogging is about being honest with opinions, these actors have stirred things up, with fans divided over the propriety of what the stars are saying. I read a fellow blogger writing, “Aamir, what you have written about SRK is disgusting. I will buy a dog and give your name to it as you deserve it.” Another blogger writes, “Hey Aamir. You put a smile on my face. You sounded cute telling us about your dog Shah Rukh.”

What I feel is this incident showcases Aamir’s insecurity and immaturity as a person. It surprises me that a superstar like Amitabh is also stooping to such levels, writing in a derogatory manner about King Khan or anyone for that matter. It diminishes my respect for them.” “I think it’s a cheap, lame thing to do to get publicity. Abusing a celebrity shows them in a very bad light,”.

While discussing this over a cup of chai with my office folks, some had a different take on this issue. They believe that in no way does this post lower Aamir’s stature as a person. We have so many politically correct people nowadays that it is refreshing to see someone like Aamir and Amitabh speak their mind. They have been brave, If we are supposed to be all nice and polite, why blog at all? What Aamir or Amitabh did was put forth their honest feelings for a million readers. After all its a democratic country and one can speak their own mind.

What ever be the repercussions now the question is what is democracy in true sense and where do we draw a line?

Birthday Bash

2008-07-19T23:08:00.011+05:30

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...and the clock strucks 12! Bang!!! and suddenly I felt as if my butt cracked. It was my roomie and vhellas from A-Block. I turn around and found my friends disguised as bollywood villans who are blood thirsty to kill the bechara hero (me). They came charging one after other with full passion as if they have been possessed by Ronaldo/Matarazzi. I tried to explain: "dude this is not EURO CUP and for heavens sake thats my butt and not the football. bachche ki jaan loge kya???" But nopes... nothing worked. After say a zillion kicks I was put down and they wished me: Happy Birthday! Yes it's 22nd June. My Birthday. While everyone was hugging me and wishing me I was wondering kis kameene ne yeh system start kiya??? Anyways after this mini session there was a small celebration with cakes and coke. And what followed was a series of endless calls from my parents/friends and colleagues whishing me all the luck and success in my life. I laid back (well my butt is numb now...am not feeling a thing) and started thinking of the birthday we used to celebrate back in college days where people were more concentrated on my roomie than me. Yes he was the bakra and everyones "Fav". I felt bad for him (seriously). In college we had our own way of celebration and we had our own rules of B'day Bumps. B'day Boy: Well hez the center of attraction on that day!! This is the day when poor chap wonders why the hell he was born? and he also realizes that he shouldn't have kicked others on their B'day. Bumps ke baad he furiously looks at everyone and delivers a Dharam paaji's dialouge: Kutton... Main ek-ek ko chun-chun ke maroonga tumhaare B'day pe. Room-mate Bumps: Well this is our discovery. The roommate gets bumps coz??? kyonki he is the b'day boys room-mate? As a room-mate you should share your roomies happiness and sorrow. He gets kicked so that later that night both roomies can empathize with each other. B'day boys wish: you might be wondering what the hell is this? Well this is a special gift to the B'day as a consollation prize for getting kicked. The B'day guy can use this power to pick any guy of his choice to be kicked by others. Generally yeh woh hota hai jo sabse jyada b'day boy ko maarta hai. if you cant think whom to pick, dont worry-mera roomie hai na. Universal B'day boy: This is also my roomie (yeah I know my roomie is very famous and everyone "LOOOVES" him). Unanimously, we always pick him. He is the one who gets kicked on everyones b'day. Chalo this year is done and now am facing 30. I remember the "FRIENDS" episode where Rachel turns 30 and everyone is depressed. "Why god??? why are doing this to me??? I guess god has his own dark sense of humor.

2008-07-19T22:46:00.002+05:30

someday when my life has passed by me I lay around and wonder why you were always there for me As a gust of virgin winds your pastel passions came leaving your desperate spell on me, left me dumb and lame. you set my soul at ease and chased darkness out of view lonely and left out all through my youth, I was alone. you took me by hand and led on. I looked at you yearningly as I watched a flower come out of life in the dead mans chamber Now, look at the desert of the night sending out signals from one heart to the other and even now, at this hour of night when the moon has eclipsed the sun I have kept the desert awake For you, to feel the moon beams and to see you bathing in the open under the moonlight and your mad poet with you Let the world watch, how right we are for all and one to see, come and pour all your kisses left long undone in those burnt out eyes let the civilized people on the street be stun tear away those unknotted bonds and... tell you, I am the one for whom you have been yearning for all these years... come, lets step out of this civilization which hasnt known the strength of our wings.

Live Freely

2008-06-27T21:50:00.006+05:30

Here I sit at work, bored and alone

it's times like these I could use a clone.

I'd be off to the ocean or some place warm

not looking back or thinking of home.

I'd find me a tall palm tree, and sit at it's trunk

with a drink in my hand.... trying to get drunk.

I'd sip the day away in the warm tropical sun

and get up occasionally for a bit of carribean fun.

I'd roam the island on my white stud of a horse

not forgetting to take my tall, foofy drink, of course.

I'd gallop the ocean side and kick up some sand,

then trot toward the sound of a steel drum band.

I'd be dancing the night away with some local girl

twisting and spinning... and trying not to hurl.

When the night is over I'd nest a place on the beach

feel the sea mist in my hair and taste the salt on my teeth.

What a dream come true, if at least just for me,

To feel really alive and living so free.

आज का भारत

2008-06-27T18:47:00.004+05:30

जब कब्र में भी बच्चे भूख से दूध दूध चिल्लाते हैं, माँ की हड्डी से चिपक ठिठुर जाडों की रात बिताते हैं, कालदूत जब अकाल बन धरती को खा जाता है, मुठ्ठी भर अनाज के लिए जब मार-काट हो जाता है, जिस्म चीर जब सूखी हड्डियां भूख की दास्तान सुनाती है, मौत भी जब इंसान के लिए वरदान सी बन जाती है, एक बूँद दवा जब खून से सौदा करने लगती है, रोते-रोते जब नम आँखें भी मरुभूमि बनने लगती है, युवती की लज्जा-शर्म बेच, जब ब्याज चुकाए जाते हैं, चांदी के कुछ सिक्कों तले उनकी आवाज़ चींखती पुकारती दब जाती है। प्यालों में डूब जब रिश्ते-नाते भुला दिए जाते हैं, बीवी की जगह तब बेटियों से प्यास भुझाये जातें हैं। तन पे एक सूती डोर चढ़ जाए ये सोच, जब अबला हाथ उठाती है, वासना की वह अनंत भूख, क्षण-भर में उन्हें खा जाती है। बहनों की इज्ज़त जब सरे बाज़ार लुट जाती है, सारे भाई सर झुकाए तमाशा देख रह जाते हैं। फुटपाथों पे खड़े जब प्रजातंत्र ने दी सभ्यता को पुकार, मुह छुपाये सभ्यता भाग पड़ी, चींखती पुकारती करती हाहाकार। शर्म से शरमाकर जब संस्कृति छोड़ जाए समाज का दामन, पापी महलों का आँगन तब देता मुझको आमंत्रण। माफिया के नेताओं ने मचाई लूट अपहरण क्लेश, हाथ दलालों के बिका गांधी तेरा देश। कहीं गरीबी भुकमरी, कहीं पे हाहाकार, संशय घर कहीं मिले खुशियों के त्यौहार। जो लोग बजाते रह गए प्रजातंत्र की ढोल, उनकी भाषा को नही मिले यहाँ पर बोल। देवलोक में कैद है सुख सुविधा के मन्त्र, सड़क किनारे पड़ा हुआ है भूखा एक जनतंत्र। यह इंसानों की खुशियाँ स्वर्गलोक में छिपाए जाते हैं, हटो वियोग के मेघ पंथ से, स्वर्ग लूटने हम आतें हैं॥

The long hard way

2008-06-27T18:39:00.000+05:30

I’m not a star, There’s no halo over my head. Rather, am a defeated person, With the abyss of darkness all my way. Fate doesn’t like the color of my eyes. Struggle and strife are old friends of mine, I like odds, Especially when they are stacked against me. Because there will be a day, When I’ll be at zenith And stare them in the eye. I know the more I sweat More will I shine… I’ll survive the sinking Titanics And ruined Hiroshimas. I’ll emerge like a phoenix from my ashes. I’m the guy who will have Courtyard of success at my doorstep someday And that is the day, When I’ll fear no fear And will taste the sweat that is sweet. And then… Look back for the first time And say… I did it my way. The long hard way.

Melancholy Strain

2008-06-27T18:32:00.003+05:30

While traveling in the shady haunt Among the Arabian sands Far from the tumultuous world Lonely, in my dreamland. Suddenly in that solitude, Where no nightingale did ever chant I heard somebody singing a melancholy strain Breaking the silence of the seas. The maiden sang and sang and sang… As if her song could have no ending. I listened motionless and still As I mounted up a hill And was about to accompany her I was suddenly pulled down By that unpleasant alarm. The music, which in my heart I bore Was heard no more. Oh! How fleet is the glance of mind Compared to the speed of light. The tempest itself lags behind. I saw the start of another boring a routined morning. The day begin with full enthusiasm To crucify me with that heavy school bag Those typical formulas, equations and chemical formulas. Forgetting that ephemeral dream I awoke to suffer the pangs of my existence.

गीतांजलि

2008-06-27T08:28:00.002+05:30

मेरे इस काव्य की प्रेरणा हो तुम, मेरे लघु जीवन की आराधना हो तुम, मेरे मन में बसे चित्र की कल्पना हो तुम, एक खूबसूरत सपना ही सही, मेरा अपना हो तुम। चुपके से तुम ख्यालों में आती हो, दिल में हलचल मचा कर कहीं लुप्त हो जाती हो, यह ज्ञात नही मुझको तुम फूल हो या कलि, फिर भी तुम्ही को अंकित है यह मेरी गीतांजलि। आशा ही नही यह प्रबल विश्वास है मेरा, स्वीकार कर इस काव्य को सफल करोगी जन्म मेरा, बहुत सता चुकी हो अब तो प्रत्यक्ष हो जाओ, मेरे अब तक के तप का कुछ तो फल देती जाओ॥