HAUSLE BULAND!!!

LEAVES OF THE FALL

2012-02-08T15:28:00.000+05:30

                                  Sitting on thebench, you are alone and cold.
                                 You feel weak inside, but you are acting bold.
                                 And I forgot to give you your prettiest shawl.
                                 Still, you ask, why leaves fall in the fall.

                                 You wanted me to hear your untold stories.
                                 A fool I was, looking for instant glories.
                                  I can't remember, what I was trying to recall.
                                 Still, you ask, why leaves fall in the fall.

                                  Every time you see me, I Smile my best.
                                  You don't say much but silently protest.
                                  And, I leave you alone to dance in the hall.
                                  Still, you ask, why leaves fall in the fall.

                                  The gloomy fog between us neverclears.
                                  Should we 'accept' after all these years?
                                  Perhaps, We never knew each other at all.
                                  Still, you ask, why leaves fall in the fall.

                                   Big words of mine will shatter on the ground.
                                   Once I am gone, you will never see me around.
                                   For every tormented soul, trapped in the wall.
                                   Slowly, Gracefully, Leaves will fall in the fall.

- HAUSLE BULAND

P.S - Photo Credit. Who Else, but me? :P
Location - Uetliberg, Zurich, Switzerland.

Yarn of Words(Aakriti Malik) - Changed URL - UPDATE

2012-02-07T20:28:00.001+05:30

Hello Readers,

For a change, I am not talking about myself here. :P

If you have spent some time in blog ville, it is unlikely that you haven't heard of Yarn of Words (by Aakriti Malik), and just in case you haven't its never too late. :D

The URL of her blog has changed from http://aakritimalik.blogspot.com/ to http://cupfullofwords.blogspot.com/ . The previous URL is not working and this may have left some of you dis-heartened, sad, depressed or I don't know. You may not be getting the updates on your dashboard or google reader.

So, stop wondering. Her blog is very much alive and kicking. Her cup is over flowing with words. Please redirect yourself to the new URL and continue your journey in to her world. (You may have to unsubscribe and subscribe again to get the updates).

She says sorry though. Bless her

Happy Reading.

Chao

Hmmmm.......OK

2012-02-06T18:26:00.000+05:30

HOW ARE YOU? HOW AM I?
YOU JUST SIGH. I JUST LIE.

IF LIFE WAS A PAINTING, IT WOULD LOOK LIKE THIS.
A FEW GLORIOUS HITS. MOSTLY NEAR MISS. BUT, ALWAYS BLISS.

I WAS HERE BEFORE YOU CAME.
I WILL BE HERE AFTER YOU ARE GONE.
KEEP WALKING IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT.
I AM WAITING FOR YOU. AND FOR THE DAWN.

P.S - Photos taken at Uetliberg, Top of ZURICH. Not by me, but never mind. :D

KONTRADICTION

2012-02-01T19:03:00.001+05:30

If I say, that I amnot very expressive, then I am actually expressive. Isn't it? When I say, I do not care, then I at least care not to care. When I say, I have forgotten, I haven't actually.

This blog is not mymirror image. It is not my letting out space. It is not my solace. It is not the only place where I can expressmyself freely without the fear of anything there is to fear. It never was. I am same here. I amsame every where else. There is no double life, which I have to maintain. There are few things, about which I want towrite. But I won't. There are a few things which I want to talk about, but I can't. Not because, I am afraid of you or I am afraid of myself. And if Ido talk about something, it will not be because, I marvel at the beauty of thisspace, where, very few of you know me personally and I can get away by sayinganything I want to. I am not feeling a loadand I need to lighten a bit. I am not going to use the screen, which connects me fromyou, as a shield. I am not going to hide behind it and use profane words aboutthings which deserve profane words. (If I have to be rude with you, I will let you know personally)

Despite so manythings going in my mind, mostly I have nothing to talk about. I try to get awaywith small talks when I do have to talk. I mostly speak, when I am spoken to. Imostly give opinions when I am asked to. And it doesn't bother me much. Its notthat, I have this urge to speak and do not have people around me or do not havefriends I can trust.I have friends whom I trust with mylife. I trust people easily,because, I know that there are more good people in the world than bad ones.But, still, there are many things which I don't talk about, simply because I donot know what good will come out of it. And it is the same with my writing. Icalculate an idea. I debate it with myself. I am 'the for' and I am 'the against'.Then I know how I feel about the idea. And I keep it to myself. I am working on a story. I have no intention to be a published author.

Last 10 months havebeen very good to me. Apart from the fact, that I haven't seen my family forover a year now. I have been to places, seen sights, done things, heardstories, met people. I have been breathless (literally and figuratively)numerous times. I know the value of each breath. I know what being in the moment means. I have so many stories totell. And I have so much to write. But, I don't feel that kick to tell it allsoon. They are just there. They are not waiting to be told. They know that time has notcome for them to unfold. When the time comes, each of my stories will find a place,a time and a listener.

A drunk is a man who is trying to act sober. The book which I am reading right now says so. It also says, ‘A real man is someone who is trying desperately not to cry.' I have cried three times in last one month or so. Allfor different reasons.

The first time, I surprised myself, when I look at it now. I was lucky, I was alone when it happened. No one knows about this. Not anymore though. Now you know it too. I won't talk of the situation. When a man cries, the best thing one can do is not say anything. Justlet him be.

The second time, ithappened while watching a film. Dolphin Tale. Uplifting movies have this affecton me. That is why I have no problem in watching movies alone. It is sometimes therapeutic. Only a couple of people know about this.Now you do too.

The Third time. Thehappiest tears. I became an uncle (Mamu!!) 3 days back. When I saw the photosof 1 day old baby, well…

Pride, False

2012-01-25T14:55:00.002+05:30

There was nothing toconfirm.

There was nothing to deny.

There was no one to follow.

None whom he wanted todefy.

There was nothing left tolisten.

There was nothing left tosay.

None for whom he wanted towish.

None for whom he cared topray.

There was nothing left tosee.

There was nothing left tosmell.

There was nothing new totaste.

And No fears he wanted toDispel.

There was nothing left togive.

And nothing he wanted totake.

None, whose hands, hewanted to hold.

And no emotions, he couldn'tfake.

There was nothing more toshow.

There was nothing more tohide.

Only thing left in the endwas,

His shadow. Wounded False Pride.

P.S - All Photos. Payyanur, Kerala, India (Dated Last week of Dec, 2009)

Non-fiction < 55 Words

2012-01-25T08:51:00.000+05:30

Ego

Ek dost ne Bola - ladkon ka ego jo hota hai usko to tum samajhte hi hoge achhe se!

Maine kaha - Main kaise samjhunga, mujhme to ego hai nahi!

Wo mera ego bol raha tha.

*******************************************

She told me - You are a man. You would understand how the ego of a man works.

I told her - How would I understand? I don't have a ego.

That was my ego talking.

SINISTER

2012-01-23T17:55:00.001+05:30

ZERMATT, SWITZERLAND

If Your Life is a Movie.

I am the villain you secretly Admire.

In the end, he dies for you.

Because, that’s what you openly Desire.

The Audience Applauds when he dies.

But, he knows there is a tear in your eye.

He was never rough. He just acted tough.

I am a villain. Its not easy for me to cry.

- HAUSLE BULAND

Unreasonable

2012-01-20T16:40:00.000+05:30

Iinitially started this post to write a revolutionary theory of TRUST, which Icame upon during another hour of absolute idleness in office. However, thisstory can wait for another day. Right now, I am thinking something else. I amnot in a serious mood right now. So, I will talk about it very seriously.

Whenthe humans first saw the natural wonders of the world, the mountain peaks, therivers, green valleys, the rain, the snow, the desert, the blooming of flowers,what went through their minds? He/She must have thought, 'OK, yes, they arethere. But, what am I supposed to do with it?' He must have felt something.What, he wouldn't know. It was only a feeling. The word 'beautiful' didn'texist then. But, its essence did. He had to invent the word. It was his bestpossible action. He can't carry smell of flowers with himself. But, he cancarry the words which he invented to describe it. He can't carry the snowpeaked mountains. But he invented the word, divine, heavenly, magnificent,awestruck to describe all the things he was seeing for the first time. And thenthe floodgates were opened. What of emotions? What of expressions? Every thingwhich he could feel, but couldn't explain got a name. And we were bound by it.Forever. He was satisfied with himself on a job well done. And then he coinedthe words ‘speechless’. For things, he couldn't think a name of. For things, hestill couldn’t explain.

Thenhow did the words which were once used to describe all the beauty were creatingbeauty of its own? The words themselves can be used to create beauty. Howingenious? But, I am digressing away here. I will hold my reins.

Thereasons why I disabled comments were many. And I will try to explain it as wellas possible. They may be a little weird. But, why every reason has to bereasonable?

TheHonest Reason - .......

TheDishonest Reason - .......

TheModest Reason - .......

TheNot So Modest Reason - .......

ThePolitically Correct Reason - .......

The'In you face' Reason - .......

TheHypocrite Reason - .......

TheArrogant Reason - .......

TheAlways Truthful Reason - .......

TheLiar Reason - .......

TheHard to Believe Reason - .......

The Sadist Reason - .......

TheSelfish Reason - .......

Ithink, Me - The lazy one has taken over all of my above personalities. But, youknow these personalities well enough. After all they are a part of all of us.Modest Man full of immodesty. Honest person who sometimes lies. Stating thetruth in a politically correct way. It is all part of me. AND US. I think, youcan fill these blanks as well as I can. And it wouldn't make any difference.

Andnow, me-the absolute honest one, has taken over for a bit. Many Thanks toeveryone who read 'At Infinity' and 'Absolute' and took time out to reach me via chats,emails, FB, commenting on previous posts to appreciate the lines. And ManyThanks to all who just read and smiled. Stripping of words doesn’t strip the poem offits meaning, art off its beauty and feeling behind the emotions. I would have thanked every one individually...but.err... I can see thelazy one taking over me pretty soon..

Andnow a very serious question - What did the lines in 'At Infinity' mean? I knowI wrote them. But, I have no idea what they mean. I just thought, they rhymedkind of nice...isn't it?

You can say it here. If you wish to. :-)

At Infinity

2012-01-19T15:04:00.002+05:30


"When you are in heaven, it does not matter, which side of the street you are walking" THE BIG THREE: From left to right: Eiger(3,970 m), Mönch(4,107 m), Jungfrau(4,158 m), SWITZERLAND

When the success will be bitter,
And the Failure will taste sweet.
Me and Life, two Parallel lines,
At infinity, will we finally meet.

- HAUSLE BULAND

Absolute

2012-01-18T16:30:00.000+05:30

SUNSET IN ROME

                        I am standing in the morning mist.
              Will you come out for a short walk?
                Silence has been hanging for long.
                 I will listen. But, will you talk?

                I have come to the right door.
                I pause and then give a knock.
                But, what if there is no one inside.

And I have only myself to mock?

- HAUSLE BULAND

P.S -
I Know. It won't work. :P
Its going to be that way.
Just read and smile.
I hope, it makes your day. :-)

Just Another Poem

2012-01-09T13:27:00.000+05:30

Rome

I can not forget what happenedbefore.

My flawless memory is actually acurse.

With every moment which passes by,

The pain in the heart only gets worse.

Fate gave me the middle finger again.

Without even a touch, it ripped my skin.

One day you smile, thinking to yourself.

Then the story ends, before it can begin.

Amid the unbearable pain in the heart,

Hiding secretly is a glimmer ofhope.

Before I hit the bottom of the abyss.

Someone up there will throw a rope

This one will take a long time to move on.

You were, are, and will be an addiction.

I know I keep on denying every single time.

But, there is some truth in every fiction.

For Your Eyes Only - I

2012-01-06T07:00:00.000+05:30

Prague: View From Above. Charles Bridge in the Center

Olympic Stadium: Munich

Charles Bridge: Night View 1

Prague Castle

Charles Bridge: Night View. 2

Charles Bridge: Night View. 3

Prague Castle: Night View 1

Prague Castle: Night View

Charles Bridge: Night View 4


Prague Castle

BMW Factory, Munich

Munich

Munich

All Photo Credits.
Is Nacheez ko jaata hai.. :-)

Think About How We Died.

2012-01-03T21:31:00.000+05:30

Mass Grave Site at Dachau Concentration Camp.

Translation: 'Think about How We Died'

If you do not know the placebeforehand, you wouldn't know what history it holds. What I see now, isa lot of open spaces and beautiful sights all around. At first glance, it isalmost impossible to believe that this place has witnessed tortures of extreme kind.Of a kind, that no one in their right mind would wish it for anyone.

The place I am standing right nowis part cemented, part gravel. No one knows, how many people died on this veryground. For no reason. Anyone who stood out among others. Too tall. Too short.Too fat. Too thin. Too much beard. Anyone out of the ordinary perished.

'There is no laughter here. OnlyDevil laughs at this place. And I am the Devil.'

'You are no longer in Germany. Youwill be treated like the pieces of shit that you are'

These two lines were oftenrepeated by the SS guards here, I am told.

I am walking through the samebarracks, they used to live. The gas chambers, where they took ‘showers’. Thetorture rooms, where they were made to stand for days without any food. TheDark rooms, where they lived in confinement, without sunlight, for months.Without sense of time. And purpose.

It just reaffirms the thought,that we all have evils. And we spend all our life controlling it. Diffusing ourevilness in small, harmless doses every now and then. But, when given anopportunity, with power in our hands, to express our hatred and evilness, thereis no limit to the torture we can inflict upon our fellow beings. Evilnessflows in our blood. We don't see it. But, it is there. It gets a slight openingand it floods our thoughts and actions.

I like to think human beings ascomplex mixture of organic and inorganic compounds, with a heart. At thisplace, (and at many others), the heart part died in a few. And mind, left onits own, wrecked havoc. It was our collective failure.

I can go on, but I don’t want to.After a visit to the concentration camp, I have no problems in life. My life isa bed of roses.

He who has a why to live can bearalmost any how. – Nietzsche

Sorry, forstarting the new year with this post. I have many things to write, but I wantedto start with this one. I wish that all of you, find that ‘Why?’ in your lifevery soon. I visited this place on 25th Dec. Ironical?

The Whites of Nature

2011-12-22T18:43:00.000+05:30

First Snow in Zurich. As seen from my balcony.

Ihave made no secret of my desire that I was desperately looking forward tosnowfall. It may be lame for people who get snow regularly in their city. Well Delhi doesn’t. And theplace I was born also doesn’t. So, yeah, you got it right. I have never seen areal snowfall. And when I checked the forecast one day(17^th Dec) forZurich, it saidChance of snow – 100% tonight. Ijust wanted to see that moment, when the first flakes fall on the earth. Iwaited and waited. And waited some more. Midnightcame and went. The movie I was watching ended. I read a book, watchedsomething else, felt hungry and ate something. All this while, looking outside,to see if it is snowing. I had to see it.And then it came. White powders pouring in from the unseen dark sky. It was 5:30 AM. And the momentcaptured in my eyes. I opened the door and went outside in the balcony. I letthe whites cover my black jacket.

TheWhites of Nature,

Werefalling from the sky.

Theyrested on my blackness.

Myorders they would defy.

Theymelted on me.

Idon’t even ask why.

Theytouch my skin.

AndWhisper

Forall the evil in you,

Goodnessis always nearby.

So,Closeyour eyes.

And,Expandyour vision.

Dowhat you feel.

Feelwhat you do.

Because,

Followingyour heart,

Isalways worth a try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quittingwithout even trying,

Thatwould be the worst.

Ifyou have to break my heart,

Youhave to take it first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Signing off for this year.

Enjoy it, while it is still here.

Bye Bye. See you in 2012.

Another year, Another challenges.
Which, I will be ready to face.
Wishing you all a good time,
Likely to be away from this place.

THE ONE WHO MATTERED WAS NOT IN TOWN

2011-12-17T09:50:00.000+05:30

Zurich Lake, Early Morning.

He wanted to talk to anyone, someone.

But, didn't know with whom to share.

There was a lot left to say in the end.

Could not find anyone, who will care.

The world went on its way, as usual.

His life got bigger, his feelings down.

There were a lot of people, he could see

The one who mattered was not in town.

The Fist

He will never know right from wrong.

The chain of his life was losing its link.

He stood straight, staring at the mirror.

Smoke in one hand, and a glass of drink.

A day will come brighter than yesterday.

Daily, to himself, he used to repeat.

Odds against him were rising every day.

Anything, he could accept. But not Defeat.

Lake Geneva at Sunset, Lausanne

Story of a Stubborn.

2011-12-15T08:30:00.000+05:30

Continuing from the two paragraphs which I wrote on the previous post..

I don’t want to be heard.

I don’t want to be seen.

I am and I will be.

What I have always been.

You will never know.

You can try to contain me,

But, I will always flow.

I will flow and I willgrow.

Piercing your walls of perceptions.

I believe in honesty and fair play,

I do not play the game ofdeceptions.

Deception is the game ofthose,

who do not have faith and trust.

I am marching on the gravel road.

Throw the stones, if youmust.

Some stones will hit,some will miss.

On some I will step, to move ahead.

I will keep learning the lesson oflife,

Enough of which havealready been said.

It has been said andrepeated many times.

But, you still try to cast me into apattern

I am one of you. But then may be I amnot,

Can't say much, otherthan, I am too stubborn.

Too stubborn may be, formy own good. But,

There is nothing conclusive, which onecan tell.

The moment of reckoning is still not insight.

But, I will rise higher,every time I will fail.

Failure is a just a road,just like any other.

There will be one road, With Successvery near.

But, now is the moment. I see thestarting line.

At least I know, my mind is without Fear.

Fear I knew once. But Ileft him on the way.

I will live with pride and will die forglory.

Forget My name. But, remember , there lived a one,

Who meant what he said and this was his story.

RESISTANCE

2011-12-13T08:13:00.000+05:30

Idon’t want to be heard.

Idon’t want to be seen.

I am and I will be.

WhatI have always been.

Iknow you want to crawl upon my body and want to make me one of your own. But, Iresist. Resistance is in my blood. You can take everything away from me, but not my rightand will to resist. You try, and ultimately fail, to convince me, why I should letyou crawl over my body. But, you don’t care about it. What you care, is theheat that my resistance gives you. You use it to warm your cold souls. But, youhardly notice it.

Myresistance may fail. But, I want you to know, that if I submit, it will not bebecause I will be sick of resisting. I am not going to give you thatsatisfaction. It will be because, I will be sick of seeing you being sick of myresistance. But, you aren’t wise enough to understand this. So, you can reveland rejoice in your false glory.

I know, you are waiting for my resistance toend, so that, you cannibals can make good use of it. You won’t even wait for myeyes to die, my heart to stop and my blood to dry. You may devour my body, onceI am gone, but remember, after that your days are numbered too. The poison, which I have been taking allthese years, flows everywhere in my body now. Every time I gulp the poison,the bitter taste of it is replaced by the sweet satisfaction of knowing that,it will kill something else, beside me. Kill something worth killing more than me.

Fornow, I am here. So don’t you put your hand on my shoulder and pretend that youare my savior. The minute I turn myhead, I know, you will grab my hand to pull it away from my body. Listen, I amnot done yet. My resistance will be on. And if I fail, I know the poison willdo its job. I hope you die a slow death. I will be in peace knowing that, youcan have no more heat from my resistance. You soul will be cold. Forever.

WhatI have always been,

Youwill never know.

Youcan try to contain me,

But,I will always flow.

I know this post is as incoherent as the last one. Its OK. I meant it that way. :)

Standing on the platform earlier would not make the train come early

2011-12-09T18:01:00.001+05:30

I have not written for more than a week. I need the drug. Badly. I have nothing saved in my drafts. I prefer it that way. Sometimes, I prefer to make a fresh dinner, and not warming the food from yesterday. The taste may not be the best. But at least its fresh. Hot. Fuming. No, fuming won't be a correct word. But, I will call it fuming.

The party is big. The room is small. There are no lonely corners, where you can just have a glass in the hand and pretend to smile. All the corners are taken. I know a few faces here. But, they are all busy in their own corners. But, I like it that way. I prefer to not to have to say good bye, while leaving. Sometimes. I have learnt to slip silently.

It was not easy at first. I thought, it would be a courtesy to say good bye before leaving. But, no one was listening anyway amid the noise. So, I let the curtain fell. I opened the back door and left. For a change, I don't have to care about opening the door silently. Noise has its advantages. You can pretend not to listen, when, actually you are. I leave the noise behind. ~~While hoping, that someone from behind will notice me leaving and may ask me to stay.~~ Yes. At least ask. Whether I will stay or not, is a choice left to me. Yes. CHOICE. That is important. Sometimes, I choose not to choose. I get my own fun in it. FUN. Yes, I seem to have a vague idea about that. People used to say, it is important too. FUN and PARTY were cousins, I was told. I was in a party. But, I couldn't meet fun there. I wonder, if Fun was present at other parties today. Now, It’s Ok. I have slipped silently from another party. I can not hear you, but I can see you from here. I can read your lips. And I can see you smile. Though the cheek which has the dimple is on the other side. But, I can imagine it. Even from outside the door.

The air outside loves me. It keeps thrashing against my face. It blows at the correct speed. It knows, I wouldn’t be able to breathe, if it blows harder. It understands. Yes, UNDERSTANDING. I tried that once too. But, then I understood that no one cared anyway. The chill in the air reiterates the lesson.

Standing on the platform earlier would not make the train come early. I leaving the party would not make you leave the party early. The smoke coming from the butt, which I just smashed under my shoes also tells me the same. (So, you suck every bit of pleasure from me. Even then you are not satisfied. You crush me under your feet and leave me on the side of the road. The butt says this too. I pretend not to listen).

It’s ok. You keep looking for the fun in the party. I will keep looking for it outside. And when we will meet at the cross roads, we will ask each other, if we had fun. But, I know the answer already. Neither of us will be sure. Which is good. There is no fun in being sure of anything. Confusion is mysterious. And a Pleasure. But, we would both know, that fun was following us. We just never bothered to look behind. To look at each other. But, we wouldn’t say this. Not to each other. We will pretend that we are having fun. And it will be fine.

When No One Deserved to Take a Smaller trophy

2011-12-02T11:01:00.001+05:30

Everyone I met that day gave me the same look. ‘You stand no chance today’ look. They had good reason to do so. The opposition was faster, stronger, and fitter.

It was a fairly small, insignificant local badminton tournament. For us, teenagers. I had reached the final, which in itself was a bit surprising. Only two days back, I was facing elimination in the quarter finals against a more skillful player. I only won, because, he got tired very soon. I played very erratically in the semi finals too. Against a much taller player. I won, again, because, he didn’t know how to use it. The other finalist, on the other hand, had steamrolled everyone on his route to finals. To worsen matter, it seemed to me, that everyone on that day had come to see me properly and duly thumped.

The only people in my box were, my papa and brother. The first set began. And it ended in a flash. It wasn’t a surprise for anyone. I was, to say the least, annihilated. My movements were slow. My judgments were wrong. Smashes weak. Placements non-existent. As I sat in the chair in the break, I saw papa standing by my side. He didn’t say anything. Or may be he did, just by looking at me. Fight.

We came back on court. Mind and body started to work in sync. I found what I was looking through the whole tournament. Rhythm. I was a different person. I won a closely fought 2^nd set. Surely, this must be an aberration, others thought. OR NOT. I won the 3^rd set as well. By an even bigger margin. We were both tired. As we sat in the break, Papa looked at me again. That’s more like it. The match was ON. We started the 4^th set. The tables turned again as he gathered himself and won, once again, a closely fought set. Everything had boiled down to the decider. The 5^th set.

No one expected the match to last this long. But it did. No one expected it to stretch to 5^th set. But it did. No one expected me to be still standing. But I was. We both gathered our last ounces of energy and played a match worthy of a final. Every point was fiercely fought. The two teenagers were diving all over the court, and every time, the spectator cheered or clapped, our energy level got up. No one was supporting anyone. They were supporting both of us. They were cheering the game. Ever saw a game, where you thought, no one deserved to lose? When you thought no one deserved to take a smaller trophy? *

Winning and Losing fades into the background. What remains is, Pure Sweat. Honest Effort. A bruised elbow. A bleeding knee. Panting of the heart. In the end nothing mattered. We both were equally breathless. And we both had a sleepless night, as we kept playing the match in our heads over and over again.

*At that time, I admit, I was playing to win, and these thoughts come, when I see things from the outside.

By the way, I lost.I am sure, If I would have won, this post would not have come. :P

POEM FOR A POETESS

2011-11-28T10:21:00.001+05:30

Its not everyday that a novice, amateur 'poet' like me is asked to write a guest post. But it happened. Against the odds. And doing things against the odds is my favorite job. So, I agreed. Yes, after a few discussions. A few questions. Aakriti. Naam hi kaafi hai.

When she is not busy busting myths surrounding Psychology, she provides us pictures of delicious cakes which she had baked herself and gives us the recipe of some 'yummylicious' food. When she is not penning whats on her mind , she delivers thought provoking poems. Yes, she is every bit the yarn of wards, which she calls her writing as...

The challenge was something to write for a truly versatile blogger. Earlier, she wanted to do an interview with me, but I safely pulled myself out of it. :)

And then, I thought, why not write a poem itself. And since in those times, (yes, the poem was written long back..), I was in truly 'kavita likhing mode', I eventually gathered my wits together and wrote something and sent her. Against the odds, she liked it. Looks like, she likes doing things against the odds too.

So, the poem is up there at Yarn of Words and you can read it HERE. The poem is titled - OF HOPES.

Few lines from the poem...

.........................
I tried to listen to what you tried to hide.

I hoped you would trust me, waited for you to confide.

I tried, I lied, I cried and finally sighed.

I always kept a check on my emotions, brewing inside
.........................

HAPPY READING...

And..while you are there..don't forget to wish her happy birthday. It was a couple of days back. But she would need all the best wishes as she has her final assessments coming up... :-)

Strings of Happiness. Pearls of Tears

2011-11-25T14:34:00.001+05:30

Iunderstood the words you never spoke.

Something told me, there is nothing welack.

Enter you in my life and it was sunshine.

Exit like a sunset. Hoping you will be back.

You knowwhen a song comes along,

Our heart glows and feet start to dance.

Under one roof. One day. One night. OneTalk

With all that he had, didn’t we had achance?

It was thepossibility that kept me going.

There was nothing for me, I wasforewarned.

Honey, my only wish is you are neverharmed.

My mind accepts the missed moment.

You know that I have only one regret.

Eyes remember. Heart tries to makespace.

You are someone, I will never forget.

Embracethe moment as it appears.

Strings of Happiness or pearls of tears.

Close, we may not be for now.

Looking atyou, I forget my fears.

Out there, when we met for the last time,

Say, I hadproposed. You had opposed.

Either way, I just want you to know.

DEAR, I SEE YOU WITH MY EYESCLOSED.

So much for Making it to the top..

2011-11-22T19:23:00.001+05:30

It does not matter Now.
Which Path I take.
Destinations are Blurred.
Milestones are fake.

Alone here.
The Air is thin.
No familiar faces here.
It has wiped out my grin.
Living in constant fear.
How deep is the drop,
So much,
For making it to the top.

Photo clicked on the way to a morning run(10:00 AM is still morning...right? ) in Zurich.

LOG KYA SOCHENGE, AGAR YE BHI MAIN HI SOCH LUNGA, TO PHIR LOG KYA SOCHENGE

2011-11-21T15:53:00.001+05:30

Not that I have not thought of this before. But, Iwanted to write about this, after reading this post by Chintan. She says,to quote her -

The truth is, nobody moves on! No body. The life moves on but you do not.The people who say they move on, I would like to look them in the eye and talkover a drink. I really would. How cruel are we as society, as human beings! Attimes, I feel dogs are better than us. They enjoy each bitch and lead a dog’slife. We do the same behind the closed doors. Just for a lifelong jhooti izzat/namesake reputation/ we keep dying every day. Some die without love, some forlove and some because they do not know what love is. It’s hard to tell whosuffers the most.

It is hard to imagine anyone who would disagree with above. We have seen manypeople, around us, who had to 'choose' between two 'Loves'. Choose betweenparents/family and 'his/her life partner'. Some cave in. Some don't. Somefight for what they think is right and win. Some fight and lose. Some give upwithout a fight. For an outsider, it is very easy to pass a judgment on whatthought process went before choosing what was eventually chosen. But He/She whois the middle of the storm alone knows what is happening. To what extent,he/she can fight, how long his/her mind can take, how far can he/she push theenvelope, before he/she falls and falters, is something, no one else but onlyHe/she knows.

So, would we call someone who fought with the parents/society for theacceptance of his/her love and lost a weak, spineless person? Or someone whochose not to fight a chicken? I won't. He/She choose to go with what the familywanted, and in the process had to let go off someone whom he/she thought wasthe one for him/her. The reasons can be many, which an outsider wouldn't know.But the result would be something, which is for everyone to discuss and judge.Who is stronger/braver? The one who choose never to stop fighting andeventually won or the one who eventually gave in and decided to live with thepain all their life? The one who broke the flawed rules of an incumbent societyor the one who decided to take everything on himself/herself and slowly dieeveryday? This is a question, the answer to which, we would never know. In an ideal society, this question should not evenexist. But, the society, especially ours, isanything but ideal.

I am a part of the society. But then, may be I am not. I belong to arebel school of thought. I know what I am. I know who I am. I may be confused about whatI am going to eat for dinner tonight, but when it comes to how I want to livemy life, I don't much care for society, who is ready to judge me for myactions/inaction. And when I say society, it does not include my parents,brothers, sisters and friends, who 'know' me. Even then, I do not expect them toagree with me on everything. Since I know that, at heart, they want me to behappy; I listen to them, agree with them, and disagree with them. We may differ on 'what would make me happy?' Be it in relation to love,career or anything else. But, the final say would be mine. Compromise is something, which I am not very fond off, just yet.

P.S – This is not a post to support/ridicule any of the choices we make.This is not an argument. This is a discussion. If, you have something to say, Say it. But, I will understand, ifyou choose not to say anything at all.

The title isn't of my own creation. I read it somewhere. In English - 'If I start to think what people will think, then what will people think'. Does it make sense? Request people to give a better translation in English for Non-Hindi readers. Thank You. :)

Behind the Scenes

2011-11-17T00:00:00.000+05:30

Keep your rotten tomatoes and eggs ready. This is the person who is responsible for all the activities which happens at this space. All the poems...which range from emotionally depressing to emotionally uplifting...and the never ending posts...

Now, I do not need to tell you, But I will anyway. The photographer behind all the gorgeous photos of nature published at this space for last few months was the person you see here. But, this pic, off course is not taken by me. If you can please take your eyes off from the blue jersey, you can almost see a semicircular waterfall behind. The place is little known Plitvice National Park in Croatia. I had seen one photo of the park last year, and that little voice inside my head kept popping up - 'you have to go there, you have to go there'. And I went there last weekend. You can find the relevant descriptions related to park on the wikipedia, but I know, you are either too busy or too lazy. And sometimes both. But, I am feeling lazy too. And moreover, my limited vocabulary skills will do grave injustice, if I start describing the beauty of the place.

P.S - I have not read any blogs for last 1 week. In fact, I have not read anything substantial last few days. Its a good news for you. Did you ask..How? Because, now..you can expect me popping up in your blog any time. Surprise is good..right? :P

Few days back, Papa told me this -

Bete! today, I have gone through each & every words of your poem,and in my view it is really a nice poem....because as per definition,when the words come out spontaneously in tranquility from the deep root of heart that is called poem.

Now, I have no words to describe, how I felt after this.

My mom liked my creations too. However, she was more interested in the lady behind these inspirations. I had a hard time convincing her, that as of now, my inspiration is only imagination.

P.S, Again: Some more photos of the park coming soon. Yes, you can relax and breath easy. I won't be in them. I will be behind the scenes.

Hanging By a Thread

2011-11-11T21:01:00.001+05:30

When I say,

That I have nothing to Dread,

I hide,

That I am...

I am hanging by a Thread.

A Lifetime..To Live

2011-11-06T13:17:00.000+05:30

Lots of Bends in the Road

They All go forward.

Were you waiting for my call?
Were you waiting for me to speak?
May be, I spoke something seriously.
But, you took, everything as tongue-in-cheek.

Sometimes, I can be a little bit screwed up,
But, everyone is that once in a while.
But, I can not ever see you sad.

I will stop at nothing to make you smile.

It happened gradually. There was no effort needed.
This butterfly called Love, sat when I least expected*
Sometimes you acted blunt, lunatic, crazy and insane,
But, you were always honest about them, which I respected.

*********************************************

Why things have to be so complex and not as they seem?
Why can not , I always pour out my heart?
Can you really not understand when I am silent?
That, I am actually speaking to you, sweetheart?

I am as sure as you are confused right now.
I am not asking for anything. I never will.
Even, if I get a broken heart. I still tried.
Every time I'll see you. Time will stand still.

The Bend in the road is awaiting us.
Do you see me, when you close your eyes?
I do not know what you think. But, if you 'go',
You will have to do away with 'hellos and byes'.

We have a glorious past. And a Future, yet unknown!
I am patient. You know, that, I have so much to give.
But, I will stand by you always. No matter what.
I will never stop trying. As I have a Lifetime to Live.

* If you are reading this, then yes...I copied it from there! :P

Castle, Fairy Tale

2011-11-02T19:49:00.000+05:30

It is all your fault. You should not have encouraged me in the first place. I write a poem for the FIRST TIME and you say so many goody goody words about that. Nothing wrong with this. But the problem, I start to take it so seriously, that for next few months, all I can think is write poems, more poems and more poems. So much so that, I started giving comments in Poems, started wishing birthdays in poems. Always thinking of creating 4 lines studded with perfect rhymes(Not that the poem is all about rhymes) and its heart in its place. In short, I was obsessed. After the first try, I gave 'BUT THEN', 'IF I HAVE TO', and 'A LIFETIME..TO DIE'..(Last one sounds like a 007 movie). Going by the comments, all have been well received. Some even pinged me to say some extremely nice words. There is another poem, which I have written, but it still has to see the light of the day. May be, Someday soon!. I started working on another poem, 'A LIFETIME...TO LIVE'. Even completed it, but as of now..I am not satisfied with it. Something is missing in the poem..Something vital. Which has stopped me from publishing it, just yet. But, as I told, it is all your fault. You shouldn't have encouraged me in the first place.

So, Today, without saying anything further, I leave you with some photos from my wandering here and there..mostly in the company of myself. Some of you have already seen the photos on FB, but no one is stopping me on sharing it again! :D

Fairy Tale Castle, Germany

Marianbrucke, As Photographed from Fairy Tale Castle

Scenery All Around Fairy Tale Castle

Some more :)

Sunset in the background

Yes, it snowed in the mountains. I am above 2300 mts here.

The darker side and the brighter side of the Sun

Dom, the 2nd highest mountain peak of Switzerland(Behind)

A Lifetime..To Die

2011-10-28T18:26:00.000+05:30

Water Beneath, Frozen Ice

I was walking on that'lane' the other night.

When memories, fromyears gone by, came rushing.

We were staring intoeach others eyes, then..

Our hands weretogether and you were blushing.

The soft breeze wasthere, cooler than usual,

The sky was in patchesof gray and blue.

You had closed youreyes for a moment, then..

When you opened themagain, they said, 'I do!'.

****************************************

It all seems sodistant now, as if nothing happened

You left me shallowand rich at the same time.

I tried to forget. Leaveit All Behind.

But, I know that, whatwe did, was not a crime.

You are not near me.Yet you are.

The moments, weshared, still nice.

You live inside me. Inmy thoughts.

Like water, beneath afrozen ice.

I will never feelwhich I felt once,

You left me alone. ButWhy? And How?

Living, while dying,is the order of the day.

What mattered thendoes not matter now.

I have the gifts,which you gave me before.

They will always be attheir rightful place.

You may come again. Ihave not changed the lock.

I may be waiting forno one. But, Just in case!

I do not need anythingfrom you.

I am not going to sitand cry.

I will thrive on myunyielding pain

For, I have, alifetime to die.

The Uphill Walk

2011-10-24T17:48:00.000+05:30

The Uphill Walk

Hasit ever happened to you that you see a place in the photos or you read aboutthem, you just think - I have got to seethat ? It happens with me all the time. I keep a mental note of it and makemental plans about how to go, when to go, etc. So, this time, Isee this place and I read about this hike. It says 23 Km and 7-8 hours ofwalking. This will be a challenge. Can you do that? - I ask myself. The answer came- I don’t know. And then another response –If you do not try, how would you know?I discussed my intentions with few of my friends and asked if anyone would liketo join. But under the weight of 23 km, everyone backed out. So, one fine weekend, Ipacked my bags and just left.

Its OK, if no oneshares your passion in doing what you want to do. Ask yourself. If the answer ‘YES’comes from within, then just do it. Even, if you are alone. Its OK, if there isdoubt in the beginning. Have faith in the hope. Have faith in your attempt.Help will come along the way.

Iam panting after a couple of hours of uphill walk. I sit on a rock and lookaround me. High Rocks and trees every where. A small stream is making a feeblenoise as it cuts the rock on its downhill journey. I have a sip of water and abar of chocolate. The map says, I am not even half way up my journey. I take amoment longer to gather my energy. Then I get up and consult the map one moreand then head in the forward direction.

Starting is thedifficult part. The resistance, mentally and physically is most in thebeginning. Gut it out. Everyone gets tired, at some time or the other. Howmuch, you can go forward after that, is what matters.

Ihave been walking for 5 hours now. The trail is fairly flat now. I have coveredmore than half, my map says. I am happy with myself. My legs are tired, but theeuphoria of making it this far overshoots any tiredness. I see the beautifulcountryside and mountains in the mist farther ahead. I lie on the grass and eatfew more bars of chocolate. I take a long sip of water. But, then, a frown appears onmy face, as I see the map, looking for the path ahead. I curse myself as Inotice the mistake. I took a wrong turn some time back. This is not what I need now. I get up and trace back my steps. It takesan hour to come to the right track. I stop for a moment and take a long look atthe wrong path I took before. I notice the reason for the mistake, a faded signon the road. I move on the right track.

Mistakeshappen. Even if you concentrate hard and plan perfect, mistakes can happen.Wasting too much time and effort on pondering over it is another mistake. Learnwhy it happened and undo the mistake, while there is still time. Then, Move On.

Ifinally make it to the top. I marvel at the gorgeous landscape. High ridges of Alps to the right, a deep valley in front and greeneryall around. This is what I had come to see. I decide to sit and take all thebeauty in before going down to the nearest railway station, 1 hour away. But, Ihear a thunder. In no time, it starts to rain. I run for the cover and enter a small restaurant completely drenched andshivering. (But, I manage to save the camera from getting wet). It is getting dark and cold. Rain does not look likegiving up soon. I am stuck. I need to dosomething. I ask someone for the shortest route to the nearest railwaystation. He is quite drunk, but I manage to make him understand. I need a ride downhill to the station.He asks me to wait. A few minutes later, a waitress comes. I have a coffee before leaving. She drops me tothe station in her car. I thank her. And I thank her again. I catch the lasttrain to Zurich.I make it back. With a tale to tell. An adventure to share.

ItsOK, if you do not stay at the top long enough or you do not see what you wantedto see for long enough. The sweat inmaking it to the top was still worth it. Sometimes, Journey is the destination.Sometimes, Retreat is not an option. Sometimes, a bruised body is better than abruised ego.

Who knows, you can get a ride from a beautiful girl to go home? :)

P.S - These philosophies mentioned here are solely for me. Everyone has their own outlook about things and this is mine. I believe in it. I live by it. I stand by it.

P.P.S - I have been called nuts and crazy 6 times today. Which will make it almost a dozen counting the weekends. Quoting a part of what someone wise said - 'Its Better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring!'

If I Have To..

2011-10-14T07:00:00.000+05:30

I have made a promise to myself,

Which I intend to keep.

Unless, I start at the base of the mountain,

How would I know, it is too high? Or too steep?

I am prepared to lose.

I am ready for sacrifice.

I will get what I want.

No matter what the price.

I am not going to stop,

Even after getting tired.

I am my own inspiration

I do not care about being admired. (Or Desired!)

I know the path is not easy.

I am not expecting any help.

I have to keep fighting hard,

Even, if I get beaten to pulp.

I do not trust my fate.

I will rather make my own.

I will keep kicking the door.

Even, if I keep getting thrown.

My eyes will burn in the sun.

My skin will get dirty and dark.

All energy may leave me one day.

But, Fire within will be there. If Only, a Spark.

My language is Silence.

Hunger is my food.

For all I care,

I will be dressed in nude.

I will stand naked in the cold wind.

I will bang my fist in the wall.

I will be bruised. I will shiver.

But, I will live. I will brave it all.

I will swim against the tide.

I will run with a broken leg.

I will get numb. I will be in pain.

I will survive. I will never beg.

I will walk through fire.

I will get burnt to the bone

I will prefer to die, trying..

In the end, everyone gets a tombstone.

I will have no one to talk to.

I will have nothing left to share.

I will still believe in following my heart.

Knowing, that Life is grossly unfair.

The Blabbering Smiling Guy

2011-10-09T10:15:00.000+05:30

In old times - From Left to Right. Psycho, His Girlfriend, Me, Chidi, Ashish, Gulti.

Girl Sitting - Garima (Chidi's sister)

On a hill top near Bangalore. In the Mist

FACTS:

Participants: Me, Suri, Chidi, Psycho, Felix, Alex, Gulti. (All college mates)

Roommates: Me, Suri, Chidi, Felix

Location:House No 490, Kormangala 8^th Block, Bangalore

KNOWN:

Itwas around 9 in the night. On a Friday evening. It was way past my end of theofficial end of the working hours. But, in those days, late nights were quiteusual for me. But, not today, I told myself. Not, when there is a birthdayparty at home. I had already received calls from friends (room mates + former collegemates) and I had promised, I will be home soon. I finally left and entered myflat, where friends were waiting along with dozens of bottles of beers andnumerous snacks.

Youmay find it had to believe, but I did not drink that night.(Not a beerperson!). But, that did not stop me, from having a great night. Rememberingcollege days, Discussing our unplanned futures, non-existent love lives, deeplife philosophy, pulling each other legs. The night just did not seem to end. Finallyaround 4 A.M, people started looking for place to collapse. The lucky ones gotthe bed. Others took to floors and bean bags(Including me).

Left to Right: Psycho, Chidi, Felix, Me.

We do not know what we are trying to do.

I was the first one to wake up in the morning. Alovely, cool, typical Banglorean Saturday Morning. I looked for mymobile to see the time, but it wasn’t present, where I lastremembered keeping it. I got up and checked my room. NOPE. Felt a littlestrange. Then, I went to the other room, where Suri and Felix were stillsleeping. I checked quietly, but again NOPE. Then, I looked for Suri’s phone sothat I could dial my number from there. It wasn’t on his bed. Felt a littlestranger. On impulse, I woke up Suri and asked for his mobile. His mobilewasn’t present. Something struck us. We checked. None of the phones were present. Barring one. Alex’s phone. He had slept on the beanbag with his phone still in his pocket. We dialed everyone’s number, but eachcall met with the same response – ‘…is not reachable….’ SHIT. SHIT.SHIT. THEFTIN THE HOUSE. WHAT THE…...FIVE PHONES GONE IN A DAY!Then we noticed. The door ofthe house was ajar. And also Gulti wasn’t at home. Alex called Gulti and wastold that he had left home early as he had to go to office (yes, on a Saturday)and he had asked Psycho before leaving to lock the door when heis gone.

UNKNOWN:

Noone knows, what Gulti told Psycho and what Psycho heard and whether he closedthe door. (Though he says he did). Since, these two were the most drunk out ofall of us, their testimony is a..umm…a bit shaky. :)

From Left to Right: Chidi's Towel, Me, Psycho

In Front: Suri

Location: House No 490.

Thisincident has become a part of folklore between us, and whenever we meet, we donot fail to remember ‘THAT NIGHT WHEN WE LOST ALL THE PHONES’. We attempted many times, in a playful way, toknow the exact thing that happened, between the period Gulti left and talked toPsycho and whether he closed the door or not…but..nothing concrete came up.

And Nothing will. Because Gulti left us on Thursday, 6th Oct. Quietly. Suddenly. And Hopefully without much pain. He perished while doing what he loved doing. Being in the Mountains. He wanted to climb Kanchenjunga. But, he couldn't cope with the training part(I am guessing..) in Sikkim. He died, with, I believe, music still left within him. I just wanted to remember him for the kind of person he was. The Blabbering smiling guy. I have revisited him in my memories, in the photos of our trips together. I am done with grief. I am not looking for explanation from destiny. You can not mourn for ever..right? You got to move on. I had to let it go. But, my heart goes for his parents. For them, mourning will be life long. Rest in Peace(and please..not R.I.P) Gulti and give strength to his parents. You will live in our memories. And our stories. Always.

The Link - In Paper

But Then..

2011-09-29T18:46:00.002+05:30

I listened toeverything you had to say.

Yourfrustrations, whims or complain.

But, when Iwanted to say something,

You said, Iuse too much brain.

There were a few things commonbetween us.

You liked to get wet in the rain.

It worked fine for me as well.

Rainwashed away all my stain..(of hearts!)

I wanted tosay everything.

But, there wasnothing to gain.

It was alreadytoo late.

Perhaps, I hadmissed the train.

I have told you before..(if notdirectly!)

I am not telling you again.

Now, please do not ask what,

I am not going to explain.

I did notpursue you

It was toomuch of a strain.

When I saw youfor the first time,

It is true, Iwas already slain.

I knew it would not have happened

It was so plain. And In vain.

You would have trampled myheart

With such disdain!

I still seeyou sometimes, Passing by

I know youstill visit 'that' place often

Maybe, I willcome there someday

I just do notknow when.

But just so you know.

I am all right. I am sane.

Ilooked at your photos before.

But today, I refrain

Now, do notshow pity on me.

That isentirely my domain.

(Not always),But I can control my grief

I can containmy pain

The chains were too strong. They still are.

It wasmy curse and bane

I was not very strong. I am stillnot.

But I will sustain. But THEN...

Kunal

The Brightest Dark Room

2011-09-23T13:41:00.000+05:30

So, what isyour relationship with your birth place? Do you still live at the same place? Isit special? Does it mean something special for you? Do you still visit theplace some times? Do you feel anything different?

P.S – I don’tknow what the point in writing this post was. May be, I just wanted give mypresent a perspective. Or, may be, I just wanted you to introduce to a verypersonal thing. My handwriting. I hope, you can read it all right. It used tobe much better.

Unexplained Silence

2011-09-15T04:12:00.000+05:30

In a Silence Contemplative mood on a Barcelona Beach. Or may be I am watching something else.

Ihave not been this silent for a long time now. I have rarely spoken more than afew sentences this whole week. Not that I am too much of a talker, butsomething in me is finding every thing uninteresting. It is bewildering in thesense that nothing is actually wrong with my life. Except the usuals, may be.Which are always there. To make us know, that we are not a robot. Work is ok.The usual boring stuffs. Not much to do. Gives me enough time to read andcomment on the blogs I am following. Life is OK too. I guess.

Iam not of the complaining type. So even if there was something wrong, I wouldnot have been able to vent it out here. You can say, that I am being a littledishonest with myself and my blog for not revealing everything. May be yes. ButI have always been like this. There is enough pain in the world already. And Ialways hope to make my readers at least more happy than they were beforestumbling on my blog. I hope I have been successful. But, today, it is notgoing to be that way. Even if I try to write something funny, it will not comenaturally. And a lame attempt is something, which I never do. I am notdepressed. I enjoyed the last movie I saw. I am hooked to the new songs from Mausamand Mere Brother Ki Dulhan. Our TT and Volleyball sessions in theevening still continue. But the events around me, the chatters, the banters , Ijust do not find that urge to take part. Hence the silence. But, not knowing what has switched me off isnot helping at all.

Maybe, I have been away for my family and friends for a long time now. And I am goingto be away for some more time. I have never felt home sickness before,so, I can not say what I am feeling now is home sickness. One of the highlightsamid the silence of last few days was talking to my brother today. I am notcoming online too much on Gtalk and I guess, I have grown out of facebookalready. I got online for few minutes in the morning just after waking up andwas trying to get ready for office when he pinged me. He is away in Finland and hisjob is such which does not allow for regular and uninterrupted phone calls. So,it was nice to talk to him for about half an hour. During our talk, he asked aquestion, which had me believe, that he is no more a kid brother, but has growninto a mature person. Perhaps, he had matured long before, but I only realizednow.

Itsnot that I have been working for very long without a break and I am in need for a vacation. Ihave been going to see places quite regularly last few weekends. And only lastSaturday, I had great fun on our short day trip to the mountains. And whilereturning back to Zurich,I had one of most chirpy days. To the point, that my friends thought thatsomething has gone wrong with me and the little wine I had, had gone to myhead. I was virtually unstoppable and was rarely silent in the whole returnjourney. But, what exactly happened after that, I can not say for sure. Or maybe, my sub conscious knows and my conscious self is not ready to accept. Notyet.

Iam sorry, if you are coming here for the first time and find yourself notamused by this confessional post. I am not like this, and this is perhaps mymost negative post. I think, in my more than 100 odd posts, this is a kind offirst. And I promise, it will be my last. I can not be sad for very long. I will get tired of it. Eventually. I ensure my readers that they walkwith a smile after coming here. I am mostly a happy person and it kills me torealize that I am choosing to be sad and silent when I have no reason to be so. If there is any scene from a movie, which cansay about my state of mind, it is this Fuck All video from the film 25thHour - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bHhUWPX1_0&feature=related

Maybe, I am just over reacting, because my two favorite jeans, a blue and anotherblack, expired within a period of one week. One was barely 3 year old while theother was only a little older at 5 years. For people, I do not know, I wouldlike to say that it soothes me that there are a few faces who do not know meand hence would not judge me too much on the basis of this post and it comfortsme to know that even if I do not know you, you are still listening. May be. Andfor those, who know me, nahi, mujhe pyaar nahi hua hai!

14 Shots of Sunset

2011-09-10T07:49:00.001+05:30

Iknow I write long posts. And I also know that I upload fewer images. So, today,despite knowing that there are a zillion things I want to write about, I holdand retrain myself. Today, I will not speak anything. Instead I present below aseries of sunsets, which I have shot from my room over a period of few days. Beingon the 12^th floor gives me good vantage points. I would request youto take a look..and those with the keen eyes.. suggest any shortcomings…and anyideas how I could have improved the images further. I could go into the detailsof aperture, shutter speed and exposure compensation…but…I decide not to. Theywere beautiful..just the way they were…and even if my images don’t do fulljustice to these incredible sunsets, I will be happy knowing the fact that theywere more beautiful than the images itself. Here we go.. :)

Location:Zurich

Yun hi, Gupshup

2011-09-02T19:15:00.001+05:30

*There is nothing serious in this post. It is just a kind of filler* :)

During Coffeebreaks, there are various topics of conversation which take place. While we tryto avoid the discussions related to work, for obvious reasons, the currentnon-performance of Indian Cricket team has even made Cricket a difficult topicto discuss and have fun at the same time. Sometimes, conversation starts bysomeone asking for a potential plan to go for a trip somewhere, but there is noconsensus whether we should go to London or Rome or somewhere else.(I am personally rooting for Croatia!).

Then, there is this topic offluctuating stock markets and who is incurring the highest loss in the stocksand then every one becomes an expert on which stocks to invest in. A relatedtopic is the exchange rate between Swiss Francs and Indian Rupee and when weshould transfer the money to maximize the gain.

Another interesting topic isthe price now days to buy a flat in NCR.Aur bhai..mere to rongte khade ho jaate hai, by god!Friends and colleagues tell their experiences of talking to brokers:

"bhaiya..flat soch rahe the lene ka. Aap dikha sakteho."

"haan..madam..mil jayega..dikha denge..apna requirementbataiye..budget bataiye.."

"2 BHK soch rahe the...budget..kuch 60-65 Lakh hoga..."

After a pause..

"Madam...itne mein to thoda mushkil hai....hamare paas to 1crore se starting wale flat honge..."

(matlab..jab itne ho jaaye..to batana!!)

And I have heard ofnormal-livable-not-too-fancy flats in NCR at a few locations with a starting priceof 3 Crores. 3 Crores. Is that a joke? There is no way I am going to buy a flatin NCR for this price which would mean taking a loan of I-don't-know-how-muchamount. What ever that amount will be, it will be nothing less thanexorbitant. You may say, I am living in a fantasy world, if I plan to buy ahouse in NCR and if I am afraid of this cost and also if I do not want to takea loan. And you will be right about it. I live in a fantasy world. And I amhappy. I do not need a 3 Crore house to live in to be happy. I just hope, I do not have toeat my words in the future, when and if, I take more responsibility.Responsibility of a family, I mean...Aww..let me move to other topic, before Iscare myself.

Another one of our favoritetopics is taking a dig at our managers. Here is story from my colleague. Apparently, he got a report on his performanceof the past year, where everything was fine..(at least as fine as it can be),except for the part, where there was something on which he had to work on..

"You should improve yourcommunicational skills. You are the hard worker in the office and you takes aresponsibility and you do a best. But, you have to works on the skills for theefficient communication. It will help the projects and you will also developsin the professional manner."

He has this to say abouthis superior,"the, a, an, s to jaisedahej mein le kar aaye the..itne le kar aaye hai..ki abhi tak kaam chala rahehai..jahan mann karta hai..saala wahan use kar dete hai. Customer seappreciation mail aati hai..to usko forward karke...aisa mail likhte hai..kisharm aa jaati hai...isse achha to nahi mail bheje...I the congratulate you ona good works done. I hopes for this in a future also...pata nahi kya kya likhtehai. Saala..uski language ko translate karne mein to google translator bhi failho jaaye...No language found bolega. Ab wo mujhe bol rahe hai..ki apnicommunicational skill sudharo...mujhe to hansi aa jaati hai...unko bolu kyamain...."

We had a great laugh aboutthis on many coffee breaks. But then, I do not think his manager is muchdifferent from us. We always give advices to all around us, even when we do notknow shit about what we are talking*. :)

**********************

Now, in my previous post, Igave the definition of Courage as given by Premchand. So, I was reading a book“Between a Rock and a Hard Place” and I removed by bookmark yesterday to takeit from there. And the first line is:

“Adversity has theeffect of eliciting talents, which in prosperous circumstances would have laindormant.”

Horace.

Writers, philosophers. I guessare same everywhere :)

***********************

* I am not trying to make funof him or anyone with limited communication skills in English or any otherlanguage. There may be a hundred grammatical errors on this one post. I acceptthat. I will improve myself. My giving advice on writing skills will bekind of like Rakhi Sawant giving a lesson in acting. Hey,hey.. I am not trying tomake fun of Rakhi Sawant now!

In 6 Days

2011-08-26T19:28:00.001+05:30

HE

DAY 1:

I am enjoying the responsibility of being a captain ofthis passenger ship. Its been a while, since I had seen so many people aboard aship. Life in the Cargo ship was dull. A crew of 6, 7..all alone in an ocean.And no girls...so boring. Talking of girls, I saw a pretty one on this ship,talking, giggling in her group. May be she is with her friends here. She standsout from her group, like me, in my dress. I have been observing her last fewdays. Probably she has seen me seeing her, though I can not be sure. Oh..I amsuch a Pussy. A Gutless Pig. I should go talk to her. I can not resist itanymore. Its a long journey. It will be nice to have a friend. Yeah..I willtalk to her tomorrow. Sure. I promise.

SHE

DAY 2:

The captain of the ship came to me today. Ihave seen him seeing me a few times. Pretending to be talking to someoneelse, but eyeing me from a corner. He is kind of cute. But, bechara nazar senazar nahi mila paata. I was wondering, when he will have the courage totalk to me. He finally did. He asked me for a coffee. But, I can not say, yes,the first time..can I? I thought, lets play around a bit. Tease. I sent him cold footed. Hewent disappointed. He is probably shivering in shame. :P. Lets see, if he can garner the courage to come to me again.Interesting. There is no place to hide here. We will see each other again.Can't wait for tomorrow.

HE

DAY 3:

I do not know, how I found the courage to ask hersecond time. But I upped the ante a bit. I asked her for dinner today. But,Again, she said No. I am still wondering..Why! I am polite, well behaved and aCaptain. She does not give any reason. Just a simple, firm No. Should I ask her again?Rejected Twice... Sad. God..Can I have a platter of courage tomorrow, to gowith my coffee please?

SHE

DAY 4:

Well...he is stubborn..isn't he. I turned him downtwice. And he came back again. I like that. But, I wasn't going to let him winjust yet. He asked me for a dance today. But, I again said No. Maybe, I saw abit of desperation in his voice today. Good for him. It should not be thateasy. Even if he does not come back tomorrow, he will get a lesson in life. LOL(I hope he does :P )

HE

DAY 5:

Has anyone gone so far..I wonder. Having been denied acoffee, dinner and a dance, I went for the kill. I asked her to have sex withme. I told her, I am going to drown this ship if she says No again.(I tried tobe serious). I will drown every passenger aboard. I will make every life boatleak. We will die together. I do not know how I got this courage. She wastaken aback. I did not mean to threaten her, but I did not see any other way. Iwas only asking her for her time and I was not getting any. She did not sayanything. She just left.

SHE

DAY 6:

I saved the life of about 350 passengers tonight.

P.S - It is a possibility that you have heard this before, in some form or the other. I heard this long back from Papa, when I was too little and too innocent to understand the meaning of the last sentence.

12 Sept 1997

2011-08-23T05:13:00.001+05:30

It was aregular train running between Gaya and Patna. A daily passengertrain. Taking a 4 hour time for what should take about two hours. But, it didnot matter. Everyone is used to it. Halt of a train for an hour or so at one ofthe midway stations does not affect anyone anymore. This abnormality has beenweaved seamlessly into the normal lives of people who take this trainregularly. Train going from Patna to Gaya on the morning of 12th Sept 1997 halted at Nadma, asmall station, more nearer to Patna than Gaya.Sitting in one of the dusted, unkempt seats was Dr Arvind Agarwal, a practicing physician from Gaya. As the train halted, few people got offand few more went aboard. After a few minutes halt, the train started.

When thetrain gathered speed, the scene inside one of the bogies changed suddenly. Fewyoung people(I do not know, whether they had their faces covered), took theirpistols out and asked everyone to take out their belongings. Money, jewelry,watches, anything valuable was to be presented to them. Delay in response fromthe passengers resulted in harassment and beating. As people started to takeout their hard earned money, their small ear rings, nose rings, necklaces etc, oneof the young boys with a pistol noticed a lady sitting in the corner. She wasnewly wed, he told himself. She was pretty, he thought. He needed more thanjust her jewelry. He needed her. He needed her body. He started molesting her.Her meek husband, seating beside her, was kept shut by a slap and a pointedgun.

"Paise to aap logon ne le hiliya hai, kam se kam uski izzat to rehne dijiye", said Dr Arvind, unable to keepsilent with the scene unfolding in front of him. He said politely, hoping that theinner goodness in men will win over the pointed gun. He was wrong. No morewords were said. Neither by the young man nor by the Doctor. The pistol spoke.Twice. Two shots in his stomach. He fell down from his seat. He clutched hisstomach, trying to prevent the flow of blood. Being a doctor himself, he knewthat loss of blood will kill him, more than the wound caused within by the twobullets. As he fell down, panic crept inside the passengers. The young man whohad shot froze for few seconds. But the guys with him pulled theman away from the scene. The other co-passengers all started running away fromthe bogie. As the train slowed down to stop at thenext station, Nadaul, the bogie was empty. As the train stopped, the wholetrain was empty. He was still alive. Bleeding to his death.

I camehome from school. As I entered, I saw Papa at home. Isn't he supposed to be athis office, I asked myself. 'Doctor Unclenahi rahe, beta', Papa said answering the question in my mind. He had justreturned from Shamshan Ghaat. Andthen he told me how it happened, as per the reports and a few eye witnesses. Hewas sad. The Doctor's wife, herself a doctor repeatedly said,'bas, agar mujhe samay par khabar ho jaati,to main unhe bacha leti'. Papa had lost a dear friend. He had been good toour family. Coming in god-forsaken hours to see us, if any of us were not doingwell. We had lost a kind soul.

He wasnot a hero. He did not want to die. He knew that if he had been silent, hewould have come home to see his wife and children. It would have been anotherday in his office from tomorrow. But, May be not. Once, you see a crime beingdone in front of you, you are not the same human being. Speaking your mind,standing up to something takes a lot of courage. Doubly so, when a pistol ispointed at you. And he stood up and spoke. Because, something more than moneywas at stake.

If I hadbeen in that position, I do not know how I would have handled or behaved. Maybe, it is easy to say while sitting safely at home that I would have flung my arms and would have kicked their ass. It wouldhave taken just one kick at their hands to remove their pistols and then Iwould have overpowered them with the help of the other people. Reality isdifferent. Unless, you are facing the situation, you do not know how your mindwould work. Whether I would have been able to overcome my fear to saysomething, do something, I do not know. Probably yes. We do not know what we arecapable of. We do not know our own limitations. Under stress and adverse circumstances,sometimes, power and courage comes from within, which we do not know beforethat it even existed. We sometimes dothings, which are beyond our capacity under normal cases. But, faced with atask, a problem, when we know, there is no other way out but to fight withdignity, to use all your mind, power and wit, sometimes, who knows..we mayemerge victorious. As Premchand defined Courage(Sahas) as – ‘Bhay kiparakashtha ko hi sahas kehte hain’ (Courage is nothing but a fear beyond aborder line).

Koshish

2011-08-11T18:10:00.003+05:30

Maine to bas koshish ki thi..

ki agar tumse akhiri baar mil na saka..

to kam se kam..

ek baar tumhare khwabo mein aau..

Pukaru..

Apne hone ka ehsaas karau

Par main kamyaab ho na saka

Jaane kyun..Dil ko phir samjha na saka..

Jaane Kyun, Tumse Aakhri baar mil na saka..

Tumhare khwabo mein jagah pa na saka..

Shayad,

Main tumhare sapne mein aaya bhi tha..

Mujhedekh kar..

Tumne apnehothon ke thar tharane ko dabaya bhi tha...

Shayad

Tumneapne dil ki muskaan ko chupaya bhi tha

Meri Manzil,

Sirf khwabo ke daayare mein rahna nahi tha.

Tumhare dil mein bhi utarne ki chahat thi.

Par inkaar ka jo darr

jo hum sab mein hota hai..

Us darr par, main bhi kabu pa na saka..

Jab subah ki roshni ne mere aankhon ko khola..

Tabtumhare darwaaze par aana chaha...

Halki siaawaz deni chahi..

Bina kuchbole hi..

Sab kuchbolna chaha…

Par tumse aankhen mila kar.

Apne zakhm tumhe dikha kar...

Alvida kahne ki himmat,juta na saka...

Jab bataabi itni badh gayi..

Tere paas aane ko..

Meri zindagi ne mujhe chod diya..

Tujhe apna banane ko..

Mere hoth khud hi chalne lage

Tera naam gungunane ko..

Maine daud lagayi..tumhe paane ko..

Tumhe paas la kar..sab kuch batane ko

Par tumhe maine bahut khush paaya..

Kisi aur ke baahon mein..

Terehothon par thi khushi jo apaar.

Tumhari aakhon mein, uska sapna tha barkarar..

maine apne kadam wahin thaam liye..

ek kadam to kya..apni soch ko bhi aage badha na saka..

Itne paas aa kar bhi tujhe apna dard samjha na saka..

Teri aakhon mein , wo dard, main pa na saka..

Daudtehue...bahut dur nikal aaya tha main.

Parayonko to kya, apno ko bhi chod aaya tha main

Khuliaakhon se sapna dekhna chod aaya tha main..

Saanse tochal rahi thi..par jindagi bhool aaya tha main.

Par tumhare jaane ke baad, zindagi jeene ki,

Koi aur achhi wajah main dhund na saka..

Main haargaya..

aisa maine soch liya tha...

tumhebhool chuka hun..

aisa maine maan liya tha..

Magar teri jhuki palaken meri nazron mein kaid hai..

Teri sanson ki garmi meri sanson mein jabt hai..

Tere hothon ki garmi mere hothon mein band hai...

Pichle dino ko yaad karte hue..

Apne aap ko samjhane ki koshish ki..

par usdin..jab tumne mujhe pehli baar chua tha..

us yaadko, aaj bhi bhula na saka...

Tere dard ko apne dil se mita na saka..

Tum mere darwaaza par kabhi aaogi..

Apne dil se, mujhe aawaz lagaogi..

Meratoota hua dil, phir se hansega

Tumhare pyar ki barish mein,

Main phir se bheengunga

Haqeeqat mein aisa hoga..

Iski umeed maine chodi nahi hai..

Tumse jo maine rishta joda tha..

Wo abhitak mainetodi nahi hai..

Merejeevan mein log to bahut aaye..

Tumharijagah abhi bhi wahi hai..

Main to phir bhi kuch nahi bolta..

Tujheyaad kar, dil aaj bhi hai rota.

Tumharitasveer saamne rakh..

Main aajbhi..raat bhar nahi sota..

Tumharebina jeena, abhi tak to main seekh na saka…

Kabhimain tumhara tha..

Iskesiwa, apni aur koi pehchan bana na saka..

Jab bhi aakhhen band karta hun..

To yehi sochta hun..

Jaagti aakhon se dekha ek hi sapna tha..

Vo pura ho na saka, Tumhara ho na saka..

Movies in the Rain..

2011-08-07T06:11:00.010+05:30

I have just comeback from watching two back to back movies in the Locarno Film Festival. I watched Friends With Benefits and Attack the Block. Daniel Craig, Kabir Bedi, Harrison Ford were there. I was supposed tostay for one more night, but the tickets were not available, so returning to Zurich to have a peacefulSunday looked like a sensible idea.

The hallmark ofLocarno Film Festival is the largest Open air theater where they show twomovies(usually the high profile ones) in the night. At the centre of Locarno (Piazza Grande),an enormous screen is erected and thousands of chairs are put on the streetoverlooking it. On the houses on both side of the street, speakers, cameras andlightings are done, which make for an absolutely marvelous viewing. I was herelast year also* and seeing the excitement and atmosphere the last time, beinghere again was an opportunity, which I was not ready to miss. So what, if noneof my other colleagues and friends share the same excitement for watching themovie in an uniquely electric environment. I packed my bags, booked thetickets, and took off directly from my office in Zurich.

But this time,atmosphere was unique (read bleak) and I am sure, very few unlucky ones havegot a chance to experience this. It was cloudy. And as soon as I set foot in Locarno, it startedraining. Quite heavy. It was pretty interesting to see many people taking theirumbrellas out and others in the raincoats, jackets watching a movie in the openair, with the rain coming down. I neither had an umbrella nor a raincoat.Retreat was not an option for me. So, I pulled my jacket above my head, put mybag on my thighs and watched both the movies. Rain sometimes stopped, but forthe most part continued in a small nonchalant drizzling manner. Neither tooheavy to leave everyone gasping for breadth nor too slow to not get you wet. Bythe end of it, I was quite drenched. I was a shivering-Cold-Fool. Water wasdripping from my hair. My socks were wet too. And on the giant screen, Mila Kunis(Black Swan), sexy and gorgeous, and Justin Timberlake were cuddling each other on thebed.

You do not get anopportunity everyday to watch a movie in the rain. May be, if I had someoneelse for a company I would have made an effort to borrow/buy an umbrella or araincoat. But it felt like too much of an effort for just myself. And I likethe rain, anyway. Watching a movie in the rain is not an everyone's idea to spenda night. I guess, that it was for an insane-me, and a few select like us, whowere all watching the movie with an umbrella over their head.

Last Time – I wentto the Festival unplanned and despite my best efforts, was not able to find asingle room to stay overnight. As the last show ends around 1:30 AM, staying overnight was THE thing todo, but it would be nigh impossible to get a single room in the entire city, Ihad not envisaged. So, what did I do? Left the show early and went back to Zurich? No, sir andmadam, No. I watched both the shows (Cyrus and Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale).I met the Producer of the movie Bheja Fry, Sunil Doshi and talked with himwhile having dinner together. He told me about his work and about thecreativity of people like Rajat Kapoor and Vinay Pathak, with whom he hadworked a lot and enjoyed working. When the lights of the theatre were on again,it was around 2:00 AM. Iroamed the streets of Locarno,slept for a bit in the park, went to the Casino to spend some time. I thoughtof staying in the Casino till the time it closes, around 4:00 AM. But, I had to leave at least an hourearlier, because I had started winning and I thought of leaving before my luckran out. I walked to the station hoping for a train to Bellinzona, from whereit would be easy to get a train back to Zurich.And Luck was smiling. A train was leaving just in time and I hopped on. Ireached Bellinzona around 3:00 AM, but the next train to Zurichwas only at 5:30 AM. I slept in the waiting room for about two hours and woke up just intime to find my train waiting. I was about to take my bag and leave, when Inoticed a couple of policemen coming my way. I also noticed, a sort of beggar (yes,in Switzerland),sleeping on the floor of the waiting room. The policemen woke up that man andbegan asking questions. Then, one of them, noticed me and asked for mypassport. I tried to tell them, that my train is leaving, but, it was too late.They began checking my passport, verifying all the details, and by the time,they were done, the train was done and dusted. I got out of the waiting roomand saw those green hills on the far side of the railway station. I satoutside, admiring the views, waiting for the next train which was after 1 hour.

Both the times,it was DIFFERENT. UNIQUE. BEST WORST EXPERIENCE or WORST BEST EXPERIENCE (Ihave no idea what this means).

A Serious Post

2011-08-02T23:32:00.004+05:30

Aha..Fooled you...Didn't I? Hooray!!

Its going to beshort one today! The blog has been hovering on the fine lines ofsentimentality, philosophy, confused ramblings, and the similar usual inanestuffs for quite a while now. Today it is neither of these. Today is aboutnothing.

*************************

I do notconsider myself as a very good conversationalist. I do not normally initiateconversations, either on chat or phone. Despite having extremely variedinterests, most often than not, I do nothave much to talk about. And I envy (secretly) those who can talk on and onjumping from one topic to another entirely unrelated topic without even a hintof a pause. Sigh!! So, against all odds, when I do have a very goodconversation once in a while, it feels really good. And there is one thingwhich I really dread when I am talking or chatting with someone.

'Aur Batao'

This is aninstant conversation killer for me.

You arechatting, sharing thoughts, making silly jokes, it is going great. But when 'Aur Batao/Bata' enters, I feellike,'yeah, my time is up'. This is overfor now. Pack Up. :)

So, now you knowwhat not to say.

Weird?

*************************

Psycho ofkbeanie said sorry to everyone in his post on whom he had ever shouted or wasangry. And this got me thinking that probably I should do the same. Except thatI just can not remember the last time when I was angry at anyone. I have beenangry a few times on 'somethings', but I can not remember any 'someone'*. VeryStrange. I remember an incident, when a friend in college told me , 'tujhe pehli baar dekha tha to aisa laga tubahut gusse wala hoga'! (He was a bit drunk). I have not lived up to hisexpectation at any level. But, in retrospect, what a wonderful dull life I havehad so far. I have never slapped anyone, never had a fight with anyone. So, ifyou want to help me, then you can help me remember,if I was ever angry on you. I will work on this now. I promise. I willfind someone to fight. I will have an attitude. Jhootha hi sahi...par!

*I was onceangry at my teacher when I was in 6^th class. He gave me two slaps(one on each mere pyaare se mulayam segaal) for no fault of mine. I was too small to do anything. Oh damn you physicists,where the hell is time machine?

*************************

A friend sendsme photos of few girls and asks me, if I like them.

He tells me, 'saale, inhe us nazar se mat dekhna! inme sekoi bhi teri bhabhi ho sakti hai!'.

It becomesdifficult, sometimes, you know :P He isunder a bit of pressure from his parents to choose a girl. Today, he sends meanother photo which his parents have almost decided and wants my opinion.

I say, 'agartujhe ye pasand hai, to mujhe bhi pasand hai'(Diplomatic!)

He thinks, thegirl is a bit overqualified for him(so nice of him!). I tell him to talk to herand discuss what you feel. I suggest, may be she, herself has somereservations, or she might have a boyfriend.

He says,'abe, usse dekh kar lagta hai ki uska boyfriend hoga!' (Her homely looksand impeccable academic qualifications, you see).

I say, 'abe,tujhe dekh kar bhi to nahi lagta kiteri girl friend rahi hogi!' (His sutteke karan dhanse hue looks and academic qualifications which whisper - justPassed).

Dekhte hain!!

Kya bakwaas likha hai, you would be asking. But today, this was precisely what I wanted.

Two Events

2011-07-29T08:50:00.002+05:30

I remember the date. It was 26th December, last year. Sunday. I wasfeeling restless and a bit uneasy. I do not remember exactly why, but I doremember that I was walking on the balcony of my flat in Delhi, thinking something and listening tosome songs on my phone. It was afternoon. Pleasant and Warm. My mind was ratherrunning, here and there, jumping from one thought to another (for the life ofme, I can not remember at all what was I thinking at that time). I was not in a mood of talking to anyone.Solitude suits me. So, suddenly the song on my phone stops. My thought processbreaks and I take a look at the phone. I was getting a call. Only a number(alandline) was displayed, so I had no way of knowing who is on the other line.The STD code showed that it was from Noida. Most of the times, the calls fromunknown numbers get unanswered(no credit cards and loans for me..). But thistime, despite my not being in a very talkative mood, I picked the call. A manintroduced himself by the name of Imran (I think it was this name). He saidthat he is from an organization namedGiveIndia, an NGO. And there is a 7 month old child admitted in AIIMS hospital,suffering from a critical heart disease and the organization is trying tocollect money for the operation of the child. Needless to say, the parents ofthe child are very poor and in no condition to afford the cost of theoperation. He politely explained me this, and at last he said, Rs X(I do notwant to disclose the amount) is required for the operation, and asked me if I wouldbe willing to contribute some amount for the surgery. May be after a moment ofindecision or thinking, I said Yes. Then he asked how much amount was I willingto contribute. Depending upon, how much I give, he will have to decide that howmany more people he has to call to ask for further support for this particularsurgery. I was feeling a little embarrassed (talking about money, I tend tofeel like this*). I simply told him that for this surgery you do not need tocall anyone anymore. May be, he was not used to this answer, so he took asecond before saying his hearty thanks. He took down my email and said that hewill send the details there.

The next day was 27th, Monday. A working day. I got his email and itwas arranged that someone from the organization will come to my office and Iwill hand him a cheque of the required sum. The guy did came and he showed mesome pictures of the infant boy (may be for just making me believe that allthis was not a sham) and some other details. I did give him the cheque. I hadanyway googled the name of the organization and read about it on the net. I wasalso told that I will get the details regarding the progress of the surgery andI can meet the boy in the hospital, should I choose to do so. I just said, OK.And frankly speaking, I had no plans to meet the boy.

The day after that 28th, Tuesday. After a rather mundane day inoffice, I came home around 7 in the evening. I was sitting in my room, watchingTV, talking to my room mate and his parents who were also in town. My phonerang. It was Papa calling. I picked the phone. Papa asked how am I. The usuals.Something was wrong. I sensed it. The tone in the Papa's voice was different. Iknew, almost immediately that something bad has happened. So I asked him, 'Papa, kya hua hai?' He took some timeand then told me that he has met with an accident. And before I could ask anyfurther, he told me that that simply the fact that he is talking with medirectly, I should be assured that he is fine. I asked him the details. He toldme, he was driving his bike (without an helmet) and how a presumably drunktruck driver coming from the opposite side, almost dashed a auto-rickshaw andtrying to avoid a collision with it, took an extreme left turn, which caughtthe bike unawares. It was almost an head on collision. Everyone who heard thestory or saw the accident scene afterwards tells me that no one stood a chanceto stay alive in there. The bike was smashed and crushed. The huge, heavy tyresof the truck were on the legs of Papa and were advancing towards the chest. So,he is under the tyres and seeing the truck crawling upon himself, without anyhope of escape. It was like seeing your end. Miraculously, he did not pass out.He tells me that at that moment when he knew this is it, he just said somethingof the sort,'Hey bajrang Bali'. And the truck halted. On the thighs. Verysoon, the locals near by helped in overturning the truck on the other side. Andhe was saved. Not a brain injury, Not a single fracture, the reports revealed.Only the bruises, cuts and swelling. And the scars, both physically andmentally. I asked when did it happen. He said it happened on the evening of26th.**

I have not talked about this with many people. In the family only Papaknows it. Outside, only a couple of people may be. I do not even know what tomake of it. Was it all planned that I will be taking a call where I have an opportunityto save a child's life (Who am I to save anyone's life anyway. It sounds likeboasting) and around the same time my dad is meeting with an accident. Or itwas just a random turn of events. Would the outcome of my dad's accident wouldhave been any worse had I chosen to not offer any help? Was my dad spared the worst’sbecause someone thought I was doingsome good. I am not actually a very religious person and I tend to think thatwe have a choice to make, decisions to take, regarding the direction which our life would proceed. I have no wayof knowing, if the two incidents were related by some almighty way. And if thetwo incidents are not related at all, then what I decided had nothing to dowith what happened in the accident. But, if I had decided to not to offer anyhelp, thinking that I can not give away money (substantial amount, I wouldthink, going my a middle class income), to help someone unknown, and somethingworse or worst would have happened at the accident, then I know my decisionwould have haunted me my whole life. And I am just glad that in the end,everything turned out OK.

* I guess, it is more a kind ofshy rather than embarrassment. Money is important. Very important. But when westart giving money more importance than things which define us, make us happyand in bliss , then the problem arises. And I know, yet, that money has notgone to my head. (First you should have thatkind of money which can go to your head, you would ask :P ). And I do not havethat kind of money, just yet :D

** I took a 3 week vacation and in the process had to cancel my planned 7 day cycling trip in and around Goa. After about 4-5 months of rest, medicines, exercises, patience, struggle and prayers, Papa is back on his two legs. But the mental scar which it left will probably take some more time to heal.

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

2011-07-20T10:00:00.001+05:30

Watched Zindagi NaMilegi Dobara and it’s a movie to laugh and cry together. A Pure Treasure.

+ Farhan Akhtar is a delight to watch. He has avery different un-filmy voice, which precisely makes him stand apart from therest. Handles his part extremely well and excels in both the comic, fun lovingpart and the emotional scenes sharing the space with the screen legendNasseruddin Shah. Scene Stealer.

I liked his conversations with the Spanish Girl where hekeeps on talking in Hindi sharing his problems even though the girl does notunderstand anything and then the Girl says in the last – ‘Everything will befine’ in Spanish. And his poems are absolutely awesome (penned by none otherthan Javed Akhtar). The poems convey the meaning of the emotions running highin the scenes and take it to another level.

+ Abhay Deol is the central character and is acomplete natural. He is steady as he always is. Unrestrained, Easy, Pleasing.

+ Hrithik Roshan. Frankly, in the beginning ofthe movie, his investment broker role was a bit unnatural for him, I thought. Ifound him a bit irritating with his ‘money is everything’ attitude at first, buthe grew as the film grows. He is best when he lets it all go and just lets thescene take his own space. Riveting in the second half.

+ Katrina Kaif –Camera Loves her. Here she does a reasonable job. She is not the center of thefilm and that suits her. Liked her trying to give meaning to life and “ Seizethe day”

There are a lot ofscenes which catches the attention.

“Sea Diving Scenes. Awesome” (Who would not want Katrina as a instructor?)

“ Katrina on Bike” (Had to include this)

“ Mujhe afsos karna nahi aata”

“ Rapid Fire Rounds” (If you know what Imean )

“ Skydiving”. (Wow. I have been pesteringmy friends here to go for skydiving for many weeks now, but no one is ready forit. I hope they watch this. Its scary, but that’s the point, isn’t it?)

“sorrytab kahiyega...jab yahan se nikle”

“Dude's its your life”

The climax is veryinteresting and perfect at the same time. Absolutely Loved the “…agar main Zinda raha to…”

The character allhave problems to deal with in their lives. Like we all do. They all have their fears.We all do. Their Life is complicated. Like all of us. They all have hidden emotional sides. Everybody has. But, we shouldnot let any of this, or anything else, make our lives a burden. Life is a Gift.I try to make my life unique and enjoyable at every opportunity I get. Notevery living being lives. Lets not just breathe, but let every breathe count. Carpe Diem.

P.S – Road trip in Spain kind ofmade me nostalgic. We did a road trip about 3 months back from Zurichto Barcelona. (Allguys). Watched the Flemenco(that foot tapping dance) show there and had the time of our lives. 2 years back, I wasagain in Spainand was inches away from seeing that Bull Game in Pamploona. Life is not too much different from a Roadtrip. Its just that road is not always smooth and the journey not alwayspleasing and the destinations not always what we expected. But, lets make themost of it. Lets give it a try.

Poems from theMovie:

Ikbaat honton tak hai jo aayi nahin
Bas ankhon say hai jhaankti
Tumse kabhi, mujhse kabhi
Kuch lafz hain woh maangti
Jinko pehanke honton tak aa jaaye woh
Aawaaz ki baahon mein baahein daalke ithlaye woh
Lekin jo yeh ik baat hai
Ahsas hi ahsas hai

Khushboosi hai jaise hawa mein tairti
Khushboo jo be-aawaaz hai
Jiska pata tumko bhi hai
Jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai
Duniya se bhi chupta nahin
Yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai

Jabjab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya

Humnedil ko yeh samjhaya
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai

Yehjo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa

Aankhteri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

III

Pighleneelam sa behta ye sama,
neeli neeli si khamoshiyan,
na kahin hai zameen na kahin aasmaan,
sarsaraati hui tehniyaan pattiyaan,
keh raheen hai bas ek tum ho yahan,
bas main hoon,
meri saansein hain aur meri dhadkanein,
aisi gehraiyaan, aisi tanhaiyaan,
aur main… sirf main.
Apne hone par mujhko yakeen aa gaya

Dilon mein tum apni
Betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwabon ki
Bijliyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise
Aazad rehno sikho
Tum ek dariya ke jaise
Lehron mein behna sikho
Hal ek lamhe se tum milo
Khole apni bhaayein
Har ek pal ek naya samha
Dekhen yeh nigahaein
Jo apni aankhon mein
Hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum

Raise A Banner

2011-07-13T06:30:00.003+05:30

'It is raining regularly since last week. And though, it has givenrespite from the sweltering heat, it has made walking on the roads almostimpossible. That naala is overflowingagain and all the debris mixed with rain water is on the road. We can not walkwithout getting our pants dirty. The construction material (bricks, sand etc)which was dumped by the authorities to be used to restore the naala is just lying on the road for somany days with no sign of work starting any time soon. The contract was givento the local contractor (who is also a gunda)and he is not bothered about completing the work. And the dirty water of the naala has also become a breeding groundfor the insects. The road inside of our mohallawas supposed to be upgraded with concrete. Instead, red soil was used all overand now the heavy rains have turned it into a red-half-solid-slow-moving river.This contract was also with the same gunda.No body is doing anything and we are all taking a different and longer way togo to our offices. Its Ok, beta, you do not worry about here. We are managing.You take care of your own health.’

The weather ishot today. It is impossible to sit in the room in peace. The sun is out. Thereare no clouds. There is no wind.

'You do not worry about here.' Really? I am sitting almost 9000 kmsaway in the comforts of a apartment room in Zurich and I hear this from Papa,who still has trouble walking properly, using a longer road to go to officebecause some bastards are ignoring the work that they were supposed to do. For a few minutes, I was(and I am) literallyboiling inside. I do not care, if everyone else is ok with the situation andtoo used to let things be as they are, but I know this,’ If my dad has aproblem, I have a problem'. What is even the point of me making good money andleaving somewhere away, if I can not make my dad happy and content and insurehim something as basic as walking on the road? It’s useless, pointless. It’s aguilt-ridden day. Everyday. My own every little complain and whine about mylife and circumstances is so otiose and superfluous. I am ashamed of myself. Ifeel like waste. Maybe, I really am.

That naala has been like thisfor as far as I can remember. Even a little bit of rain, the dirty water mixedwith all the garbage comes on the road and you can not pass without closingyour nose. The pot holes in the road which become invisible due to flowingwater make it impossible to walk. If you dare, you are sure to walk into one ofthose holes and you will take out your leg with the pants all dirty cursing theunknown. I have seen so many bikes, auto rickshaws etc stuck in the holes. Isit that difficult to restore a road and a naalathat it has not been done in 25 years. And the public is accepting as if it’sthe most usual thing to live with. But what can one do, if the contractor is alocal gunda? Is there any viableoption for the public to bring authorities to their senses, apart from staginga mass hunger strike(if at all) and risk being beaten by police. 'Aam aadmi se yehi umeed ki jaati hai, Aamaadmi ki tarah jiyo, aam aadmi ki tarah bardasht karo aur aad aadmi ki tarah mar jao!' is all that’sleft for us. Isn’t it?

The sun is about to hide behind the mountains. And from no where, I seesome clouds hovering over the horizon. The black, heavy ones. And a light coolbreeze is flowing inside the room.

Bringing a revolution is difficult. No one has time to listen to yourspeech. You can not convince your friends, family, let alone the entire public,just by speaking. Everyone waits for you to lead and show the way even if theyare convinced of the cause. They will follow the leader. It is a hugeresponsibility. Discarding the social life and taking up violence to bring achange, is a path, which I am entirely ignoring for now, as a bloodbath isnever a solution for any thing. So, you do not want to be the leader and youcan not take up arms and you are too hungry at most times to do a hungerstrike. What options are we left with? Personally, I think being anonymous hasgreat advantages. Everyone fears the unknown. If there is no face, there is no stereotype,there are no faults, no weaknesses. No body knows what an unknown face iscapable of. After hearing the above problem, I got thinking, if anything can bedone by not being known and not making speech and not trying to convince yourcommunity. A simple deed in the right direction speaks volumes rather thewords. Public humiliation is a powerful tool. No one wants to be in the centreof a storm. So, a Naala is to berestored. A road to be built. How about hanging a banner right in the centre ofthe road, on the site of overflowing naala,using as many abusive words as possible blaming the authorities involved, asking questions, whywork is not being started. Listing the problems on that banner in a clear way. Useall the cuss words,(Come on, Nice Language will not cut ice here) but do notname a person specifically, but the organization. It will be signed ‘Everyone’. But off course,it will be a work of one (or at best few like minded) individuals. People willfrown at first, laugh at first, may be some one from the authority will tear itdown the first day. We do not stop. We do it the next day using more aggressivelanguage. People from the community will understand, may be give support. Plantan idea to hang it from their homes. We continue. Imagine hundred houses in onelocality hanging the same banner, day after day, night after night. How manybanners will the authorities take down. Imagine every house in the city hanginga banner of the common grievances which the people are facing. I have a gut feeling, it will work. The methodmay not be right way, but its definitely righteous considering the shitty formof governance which we are being subjected to currently. It is just an idea,and I would love to get comments/inputs from others who stumble upon here to refine this more (or any better ideas). So,if you see a banner hanging from your house in the near future , you will know,who put it there. But this is thing in the future. In the present..

The weather has changed drastically. Wind is blowing. I also see fewdrops of rain.

I have no complains of my own. I am content, may be even happy withmyself. But, the situations like above have a dampening effect on me. I feellike betraying someone. Maybe I am betraying only myself. I am too weak to doanything as of now. I have options. I have ideas. So many. But I am afraid. Offwhat, whom, why..I do not know. May be only of unknown. May be I am only words.I have self-doubt. Too Many. I doubt my ability to resolve the doubt. Atpresent, I am not the change which I want to see in the world. But, I do want to raise a banner, where no banner flew before.

It has started raining heavily and even small blocks of ice is pouringdown. It is creating a noise on the door. I resist. But then I kneel. I openthe door. I let the few pieces of ice hit me. I let the rains fall on me. Every fallen piece of ice is like an idea. Ihave to pick them up and make good use of it, before it melts and is same as its surrounding, water.

P.S - There are two videos linked in the above blog.
First one on the line - aam aadmi...
Second one on the line - raise a banner...

Transformation

2011-06-28T04:11:00.001+05:30

I am an honest person. As honest as one can hope to meet. I do not lie. Unless, I absolutely have to. But, there was a time, when, I was not whom you know now. I was a chronic liar. And it took a lot of effort from my Papa to instill in me the habit of telling truth, no matter what.

I liked studies. The problem was that I liked few other things more. Playing and Sleeping were the best pastimes. As the exams would come nearer, Papa would emphasize the importance of practicing as much maths as possible and writing as many pages as possible to make sure that I retain what I have learnt. Whenever Papa would ask, if I have done sufficient practice, I would always say Yes, but in truth, I was very happy with doing the first 3-4 problems of the chapters with the tough nuts of the chapter left completely ignored. Most of the times, I used to get away quite easily (at least till the results came out). But there were occasions(usually on Sundays), when Papa will sit with me and ask me to bring the Maths book(Maths and science were his favorites). And, invariably, he will give me the problem, which I have not practiced. I used to pray inside to give me an easy problem, but it was never answered. He will say,'practice kiya hai na acchhe se, kaun sa dun karne ke liye..hmm...ye wala karega?...achha..ye lo..is chapter ka 26 no karo..aur next chapter ka 28 no...jab ho jayega to batana.'And he would busy himself in reading the newspaper. On seeing the complex equations and the lengthy languages of the problems, I would curse myself, why I did not practice that specific sum. But on the face, I would appear completely normal and take the copy and put in my lap(so that he could not see what I am writing) and start writing confidently. I would read the problem twice, thrice hoping that it would start making sense to me. But, when you do not know something, you do not know something. I would make serious gestures on face, signaling that I am thinking hard, calling on universal powers of wisdom for just a few minutes. But, they never came. 15-20 mins would pass and I would scribble something on the copy in an attempt to write something, anything worthwhile, that would make sense to Papa. Papa would turn the pages of newspaper, look at me, in anticipation and every time, I would give him the signal that I need a few minutes more, buying extra time, trying to delay the inevitable. Eventually, Papa's patience would run out and he will snatch the copy and will try to decipher the mess which would be present there. I would be lucky, if escaped with just a display of anger. May be a couple of slaps. But, he would not forget to tell me,'pehle kyun nahi bataya, ki nahi kiya tha. Jhooth kyun bola. Sach bole hote..to..main tumko padha deta..aur time bhi waste nahi hota!' This was not a one-off story. This would be repeated many times over.

At the end of the day, I was somehow, able to complete the syllabus. But the actual exams were a completely different story. Literature subjects were no problem, as you can write anything and you can almost get away with it(if you know what I mean). Maths used to be my nemesis. It was not that I hated Maths or I was weak in Maths. Quite the contrary. But I lacked concentration due to which 80-90 marks scoring paper turned out to be 60-70 in reality. After the exam, when Papa used to ask,'kaisa gaya beta?', I would say,'Achha'. This would translate in 90% marks in Papa's language. But when the actual results came, I was too scared to tell Papa the actual marks. I would tell him,'abhi paper nahi dikhaya Papa, teacher ne!' I would buy a few days, hoping I get a good mark in some other subjects so that I would tell him the marks together so as to lessen the impact of the awful marks in Maths. These opportunities sometimes came, but quite few. Otherwise, every passing day was a battle with myself. Whether to tell him the marks today? Is it possible to delay it for one more day? How is his mood today? These were the questions I would ask myself. It was tough. And on the day, when I would decide that there is no more running now, I knew something bad was going to happen to me. As soon as I told him the marks(which were way below his expectations), he would ask,'ye number pehle bataya gaya tha na? Pehle jhooth bol raha tha na?' But he knew the answer before my reply. I would get a sound thrashing and these words were often repeated,'main tujhe isliye nahi pit raha hun, ki tujhe number achhe nahi aaye, par isiliye..ki tune jhooth bola. Sach bola hota..to nahi pitai khata. Arre, number kam aana koi badi baat nahi hai. kisi ke bhi aa sakte hai. Par jhooth kyun.' It was beyond my understanding that if you do something 'bad', you would tell truth by admitting it. What will be achieved in telling truth? After getting quite a thrashing, Papa will ask mom to bring the boro plus and he will use it on my body wherever necessary and repeat the same words in kind fashion, trying to make me understand, why telling truth is not just an important thing, but THE thing to do. par main sirf ek pitai se kahan sudharne wala tha?

I would sometimes not show Papa the questions papers by making some excuse and would copy his signature on the report card sometimes.There was a period of two years (Class 6 and 7), where getting beaten for the same reason was becoming a norm for me. I was just hopeless. I was making the same mistakes and then telling lies upon lies to cover them. Philosophically, I could not lift myself up from this ditch, unless I had hit the rock bottom. And this bottom came. Hard. I once got 45 in Maths. Just Passed. As usual, I waited till the last possible day to disclose this. But, what I remember most from that day is that my younger brother had got 90 in Maths and he too was holding that information and waiting for the last possible day just because, I was doing the same. He was looking up to me and was getting absolutely misguided. It was almost like a jolt to me. I felt as if I have just awakened from a deep slumber.

I have come a long way, since that day. I know what it means to be truthful, to yourself and to your loved ones. I do not think that I have told a serious lie ever since or may be I have become more intelligent in handling situations. But, one thing, which I have made sure every time is that I never tell lies for personal and selfish gains or to hurt someone or to belittle anyone. On the same hand, I can not say that I have been truthful every time with everyone, since . But, I can be sure, that I have been honest and truthful, when it matters, to the best of my knowledge.

WAS and IS

2011-05-25T05:05:00.006+05:30

HE WAS

He was about to enter college. To an Engineering College, no less. He was rewarded with good rank in the Entrance Exam. He was happy with himself. Content. Missing out on IIT seat did not weigh much on his mind. He knew, he could have done better, but settling on a 2^nd best option was a thing, he was not much bothered about.Innocence Personified. Well behaved. Academically Oriented. Eager to learn new things equipped with ability to grasp, retain things. Good Habits galore. Bath every day. Each meal on time. Playing in the evening. Though lazy in the morning, but knowing the importance to get up early and doing things with fresh mind. Not Much TV. Movies limited to what came on Friday and Saturday Nights on DD1(by Papa’s permission). Talking with Respect. Doesn’t know any gallis. Conversation with girls limited to ‘May I have your Chemistry Copy, please’ once in a while in the class. Regular School. No bunking. Every Subject having a separate copy. Each Book covered with brown paper. Neatly Maintained. With all these habits, he enters college. It would be simple, he hopes. He would do it his way, the good way, he thinks. He steps away from home for the first time in his life. His parents leave him at the college, far from home. He carries their hopes too. He is given an ATM card from which he can withdraw a maximum fixed sum of money each month. He gets cheques from home(enclosed with a letter), every now and then, to cover his semester fees and other expenses. He is confused to start with, in an alone world. But he is confident that he will make it.

It did not turn out the way he had hoped. It was simple, just not in the way he had thought. Bunking a few classes here and there progressed into bunking the complete first half almost every day. Running for the class in a hurry, bleary eyed, without taking baths. With one register accounting for the whole semester, for all the subjects. He skipped breakfast, because he was getting late for class. He skipped lunch in hostel mess because he was bored of rajma. He sat on the roadside khokha for 3 hrs, drank 5 cups of ‘patti’, with his group of friends. Once, who did not knew the meaning of gallis, now uses them in every sentence, cursing everything and everyone. From boring teachers to meaningless subjects to useless exams. Even makes his own brand of gallis. He gets a mobile from Dad and gets a SIM with unlimited free SMS and sends the forwards to all his friends. He watches girls in the evening, standing by that corner, frustoo chowk. While mental work is done only on the night before exams and in copying assignments, he does not forget to go to Gym to build his muscles. He tries understanding the tough subjects, but then mugs up the things, taking the easy way out. He tries smoking. Coughs badly the first time. Coughs badly the second time too. But he tries again and again, until he masters the bloody smoke. Drinking comes easy. He says No the first time. Tries it with friends and recoils with the unpleasant taste. Taste will develop, his friends say. He trusts them. He makes friends…for Life. His degree is on a downward curve. But he is not bothered. He knows he has done enough to pass out and get a job in the campus selection. He gets drunk on the last day of the college, with a degree in one hand and a job in the other, goes senti, proclaim his mates as their best friends, sends sms to a girl, as a last resort to get her approval and forgets about all these in the morning. The boy from school emerges as a man from college.

He was again happy as he graduated out of college. His parents were happy too. He had a job with a decent salary. Now, about 4 years into his salaried-life, he senses something is missing. But he does not know, what. His friends have switched jobs, done MBA, doubling, tripling, quadrupling their starting salaries. Some of them have got girl friends and planning to settle. He wonders about them, ‘That soon?’ He worked hard in the first few years, but the increment in the salary was not proportionate. He fights, shouts, frustrates and finally settles with what he gets. He lives away from home. Visits parents twice a year or on festivals and family celebrations. Money comes and goes. He does not know where. He gets a postpaid connection instead of his previous prepaid one. He calls his friends from college and they discuss the same thing they discussed the last time –Lets do something different, something meaningful. They curse each other for the sheer inaction in doing something different and then cut the phone and again do nothing. He goes philosophical when ever he is near the oceans, atop a mountain or hill, or when he is just alone. His trousers are getting tighter. He sees himself in the mirror while trying hard to button his trouser(which was prefect fit couple of years back) and wonders if his waist line has increased. He hears the dreaded word from his parents for the first time,’so beta, what about marriage?’ He goes nervous and then just shrugs it off by saying ‘its too early’.

HE IS

He has been hearing the word marriage a lot of times over the past year and gets scared every time. Many of his friends have got married and he still does not know, if it is about time. He has gotten his dad an email id and chats with him often. His dad informs him about few of his relatives or sons/daughters of neighbors getting married soon. Then he gently slips the question about his own marriage. He knows, he can not avoid the question for indefinitely long and says, he will think when he is home. His job has gotten worse, but he atleast has a steady income, he thinks. All his thoughts, ideas as a 16 year would not work now. He is not always honest. Not even with himself. He has learnt to be manipulative. To survive. The rising prices of everything make him more scared. 50 Lacs for House? Is his salary enough to start family? His friends urge him to switch job. He thinks and then inaction catches up. People around him talk about their investment in real estate and shares. He has neither. He wonders what went wrong. Where did it went wrong? While coming down this path, he did not knew, he will face this conjuncture. Why his friends can think clearly about investments, marriage, settling down, salary and he can not. He is as confused as he was 10 years back. Only in a way which is worse than before. This time, confidence alone will not suffice. He will need inspiration. He will need a strategy. He will need to trust himself. He will need to get up early in the morning and start afresh. To regain the lost ground. Which was once his for the taking. He found the job and money, but lost himself in the process. He will have to listen to himself. Closely.

An Abstract Post.

2011-05-11T03:46:00.001+05:30

The first thing which you will notice about me is that I am not the thing to be noticed. When I am there, I remain hidden most of the time. But, not because I am afraid of my identity. But, because, remaining hidden is my identity. And If I am being noticed, then it is not the best time to be with me. Neither for you nor for me. I am easy to be part with. Too easy. No one praises me when I am decent. But, I am being looked upon with disgust when I stink. Bad. Pungent. Unpleasant. I will be dumped mercilessly. Never to be thought of. I am thrown sometimes under the bed. In dark, unused corners, where my smell will not cause problem to others. I am in every household. But in the bigger scheme of things, I hold no significance. I am never a topic of discussion. I am cursed upon, when someone can not find one of me on time. Yes, I am your own smelling, often despicable, a mere sock.

Spare a thought for the esteem in which a Shoe is held as compared to mine. Shoe, the thing to which I am attached almost all the time. But what difference in the level in which we are kept!. While Shoes are always looked at, asked upon and praised, I am not there even when I am there. Shoes have the front seats to every action, whereas I rarely see the light of the day. Girls can spend an entire evening talking about nothing but shoes, whereas I do not seem to attract any attention. Shoes will be bought in big malls, branded shops. I will be picked from the footpath with a price of 6 for Rs 50!!The Wikipedia page on Shoes contains 14 sections, 10 sub-sections and 6 sub-sub-sections. What about me? A tiny 11 sections. Shoes will be polished regularly. I am lucky, if I am being washed. Guys often leave me untended. They will leave me under the carpet and forget about me completely until one day I am discovered by the maid doing the cleaning.

When I am Lost, no one cares. I am easily replaced. When I am finally found after a rather fortunate encounter, I am being examined. Either I am thrown into a garbage can or used for other disgusting jobs in the house. Imagine Me, once who walked hand in hand (though neglected) with the mighty shoe, attached to a viper and cleaning rooms, kitchens and what not! Me, who himself was rarely taken care of making sure that the floors of the house is clean. My life is ironical too. Much like the life of the person who wore me once.

Do I feel bad about all this? Yes. I do. Can I do anything to change this? No. I can not. I am not much too different from the person who wears me. What he feels is not much different from what I feel. He is a forgotten soul. Hidden. Unnoticed. Insignificant. Lost somewhere under the carpet. He lives the life of a Shoe on the outside. Shining. Attractive. His sock-like inner being lies in the corner. That being was decent when it started, but now it stinks. It can not be washed or polished. Unless it is found. But, there is no one, but he himself who will have to pick the broom and do the cleaning. Until then, he will lie just there. Decaying every passing day. Unattended. Just like me, A Sock.

That kind of a Night

2011-04-04T00:28:00.003+05:30

Long before the first ball of the world cup 2011 match was bowled, a FB friend from Morocco posted this photo. A photo of Sachin, with the tagline - 'Could we have a larger cup today, please?'. I replied on the photo - 'yes, we can!'. And after 8 hrs, it became - 'yes, we did'.

It was not easy. The climb was tough. The odds were against. And our chase did not start on a positive note. As the 'God' departed, the various status read on FB -

Tears came to my eyes.

The world cup is officially Over.

Its Over

Viru and Sachin Out. 275, I bet you cant!

etc etc etc.

Emotions of my friend watching the match with me were on similar lines. I told him,'Its not over yet. Have Faith. We will do it'. And I was not just saying it. I believed it. There was not a shred of doubt in my mind that we were going to fail. Yes, I was not on the ground. Yes, the chips were down. But, I had no business being hopeless. Sports, like Life is not played with self-doubt, low self confidence, fear of failure, getting bogged down, getting hopeless, feeling defeated. Yes, we can be nervous. That is Natural. But, if your/our mind and heart is occupied with hopelessness, then sports is not for you/us. Champions rise when the odds get tougher, stiffer. And that is what we did. We rose. We pumped our fists to show that we are THE WORLD CHAMPIONS.

There are many types of supporters. The Fanatics, The Pessimists, The Nervous Type, The Superstitious Type, The Optimists, The Eternal Optimists, The Practical Type, The Realist Type, The Unforgiving Type. It does not matter what all these supporters say on the outside. But on the inside, everyone wanted the same thing. THE CUP. Anything short of this would not have been excused. This is the last world cup Sachin was playing, they said. If not now, then when? The greatest batsman in the history of the world would go out without a world cup in his hand? Its not imaginable. Its Cruel. Its not possible. That will be so unfair. Yes, it would have been unfair. But Life has a right to be unfair. The world owes you nothing, as they say, because it was here before you came. We can do all in our power, physically, mentally, psychologically to follow our dreams. To fulfill our dreams. But, we may not succeed. This is what Sachin would have thought after the heartbreak of 1996 semifinal and the annihilation by the Aussies in 2003 WC final. But he did not lose hope. He came back. So, who were we to lose hope after losing two BIG wickets? We were the 12th man of the team. So, unlike a few nervous supporters, I stood my ground. I have HOPE. I have FAITH. Lets do it.

I am not saying that just because we stood our ground and refuse to accept the defeat as an option resulted in our win. Its not algebra. Ending on the right side of the finish line, especially in a team game, depends on so many things that trying to control everything is out of the question. But, the least that we, the outsiders, the fans, the supporters can do is to support the Blue jersey, unconditionally. We do not leave the hands of our family and friends, when they are down and out. Why the relationship between a fan and his team be any different? Even if the Gambhir catch would have been taken, even if Dhoni had failed in promoting himself, even if Team India had faltered, failed, it would not have rendered me hopeless. Disappointed Yes. Shaken Yes. But come the next series or 2015 WC, and I would have been back. Fresh. New Begining. New Hope. Same enthusiasm.

But, For now, it is 2011. And we have achieved what every single Indian wanted. What does it mean to me, the common man, the aam junta?

Let me explain this in brief.

We were watching the match on a giant screen erected in the society, and I was with a couple of friends of mine. There were another 100 or so people watching. Some sitting. Many standing. Young Mothers with their younger babies. Young couples.4-5 year olds. Old couples. Middle aged people. Society Gaurds. But as Dhoni hit the winning six, there was no difference among anyone. We roared, danced, shouted, laughed, cried like ONE. The joy was so pure. The celebration was uninhibited. The madness was unimaginable. Yes, my life sucks. yes, my job sucks. yes, my salary sucks. yes, I am not yet living the life the way I want to. Yes, I have no idea what my future is going to look like. I have a million shortcomings. Hundred of unanswered questions. Too many problems to take care. Too many bills to pay. But today, I do not give a damn. And tomorrow, I will hope. Again. That I can better my life. I can do everything that I want. I can achieve everything that I wish. Life can hit me with its biggest and worst stone . But, I will walk through pain. I will not loose hope. Yes, it was that kind of a Night.

But, He Flew.

2011-03-26T00:14:00.003+05:30

He flew into our house and sat on our big guava tree on an early Sunday Morning. To taste the sweetest guavas which he will ever taste. Little did he know, that it will be his last meal with freedom. For a long time. We captured it. Somehow. That, he was just a young, growing up, parrot did not help his cause. We had him in a makeshift wooden cage, by the time my father asked someone to go to the market and buy a proper one. The cage with thin iron bars. We waited for the cage to come. And he waited. Confused. Afraid. If he was angry, he did not show. The cage came soon enough. He was transferred to his new home. He protested by flurrying its wings. But it was too little an effort to cause any stir in our hearts.

He did create quite a stir in our home. I love pets. So, naturally, I was super excited. And so were my two younger siblings. He was the apple of our eye. Almost every waking minute was spent either with him or with his thoughts. We used to question papa - Is he comfortable? Is this food enough? Is the water fresh? Should we give him more green chillies? Seeing him eat was a great delight for us. The cage was hanged high enough to not give the cats any chance. We named him Mithu. We all tried to teach him to speak our names. But, Mithu took the liking to my sister's name - Minni.

One Month went by. He was learning fast. He could easily pronounce Minni and would repeat it every time mummy or papa called my sister. It was such a pleasure seeing him grow. Then one day, papa took the cage and brought it in a room. He closed all the doors and windows. Papa wanted to see if he could still flew. Slowly, he opened the door of the cage. After a lot of hesitation, Mithu came outside. We all stood in a circle, to not let him any room to escape. But, Mithu did not try anything. If at all, he seemed to be at ease. He walked a few steps, with pride. He climbed to our tiny hands and shaked its head in approval. It was so invigorating to see him making connection with us. He truly liked us. And we all loved him. After about 10 mins, experiment ended as we took Mithu in our hands and directed him back to where he belonged. His cage.

We became bolder day by day. He was growing up very well and at the same time, it looked like, he had forgotten how to fly. He never made any attempt to escape. Sometimes, we took him outside twice a day. On other days, thrice, if papa was not around. An uncle came one day to meet my father. As the elders talked, I said, 'uncle, have you seen Mithu? He does not fly even if we take him outside his cage. He is so good'. And without even waiting for papa's permission, I went and brought the cage into the room. It was showtime. My showtime. Papa said nothing. I gently pulled the opening gate and with my hand, asked Mithu to come out. And he did. See uncle, he will not fly. See. See for yourself. He will just walk around. Take him in his hand, uncle. He will not bite. He is very good. I took him in his hand to show this. Then I opened my hand to release him back to the ground. And THEN, HE FLEW. With an effortless swing of his wings, he went high and high to the highest part of the room. The ventilator. And before we could recover and act, he was gone. Into the open sky. Away from his jail. Away from our lives. Never to be seen again. Never to be heard again. As unexpectedly, as he had arrived. It was a shock to my heart. How can he do this. I thought he liked us. We all loved him. He will come back. So, we thought. We imagined, that we will go to the roof and he will be waiting for us there, sitting on the gauva tree again. Ready to come to our arms. His cage. But, he did not.

It took a while to realise that what just happened was in his best interests. Birds are meant to fly. It was awfully wrong of us to cage him. He was waiting for the right opportunity. He showed immense patience, all the time he was here. He waited for his wings to develop. To become stronger. As soon as we took him out for the first time, he knew he had a chance. He had got an opening. But he had to play his cards well. He had to show us that he did not want to escape. Perhaps, he did like us. But, he knew, that this was not his home. This was not, what he was supposed to do. He knew his destiny. And he knew the time when he had to shun patience and take a decisive action.

A lesson in life. Which I learnt that day. If only, I could see that opening as clearly as Mithu saw that day. And I would fly too. Someday.

(Though, without playing with anybody’s emotions and matters of heart. J )

This Happens. Sadly.

2011-03-17T01:44:00.016+05:30

Rush Hour for Office. People waiting for Metro to come at the station. Lots of People. A Girl is descending the stairs from the other side. Talking on her mobile. Her mind slipped. And her leg too. One false step and she comes crashing down from the last 3-4 stairs. Her bag is thrown. Her mobile split in parts. She is on her knees at the bottom of the stairs. May be she is hurt. May not be too bad. May be she is in pain. But, of the 60 odd people waiting for the metro, nobody moves. The only flexing of the muscles is of the neck. That moves for everyone. They turn and stare. One girl is barely a meters away from her, typing something on her phone and she sees the girl, waits and then continues on her phone. Says nothing. Does Nothing. Ditto for all others who are nearer to her.I walk the few metres and go to her and ask,'are you OK?'. She looks up and says, she is fine and then lifts herself. Slowly. Picks her bag. Picks her mobile and its parts. Gets up. Goes to the platform and then waits for the train to come. Then, all heads turn back. Everything normal.

On another day, a blind man was making his way out of the metro station. Feeling the path ahead with his stick. I was few meters behind him and could see people passing him and on their way without noticing. I admit I would have done the same, if I had not seen him almost crashing himself to the wall ahead. There were lots of people near him, but no one reached him and held his hand. I ran and caught him just in time and guided him towards the stairs.

Inaction. But due to what? Too busy to notice? Unwilling to notice? Too late to reach somewhere? Why do we hesitate first before extending help? I do not know, if it is just a big city problem, but definitely, being 'too pre-occupied' with ourselves has been on the rise in the mega cities. It may have something to do with 'not trusting the strangers', but how can we forget, that in the begining everyone was a stranger to everyone. If we had not talked to strangers at first, we would not have made any friends. Virtually, 'arranged-marriages' are meeting of two strangers and hoping they would not 'self-destruct'.

At Gaya station (my hometown), at Platform No 1, on the pillars supporting the structure, are written some of the classic lines mentioned by Gautam Budha. (Not surprising, since Buddha found enlighment at Bodhgaya*,a mere 8 kms from where I live). I do not remember every sentence which is written, but the one which I remember profoundly is -

'agar jiska dukh ho, wahi dur kare, to haath ka dukh pair kyun nahi dur karta?'

Do I need to explain more?

Very recently, My papa met with a very serious accident (head on collision between 10 tyre dumper and bike). Without going into the details, by the looks of it, he is very very lucky to survive, let alone getting away without any head injury or fracture. And lot of credit goes to the hundred of locals, who wasted no time in looking and staring. They found help, rescued my dad who was stuck between the road and the tyres. Took him aside, called a local doctor. And I can not thank them enough. But, surprisingly, in big cities, standing and staring is what we all seem to do, unless the nearest traffic police comes and they do some more looking and then deciding what to do.

We were definitely not like this. Is our new found glamor, money, development making us insensitive inside? Is increasing our standards of living eating our ethics? How can we even imagine to get our country free of ills, when we can not even stretch hand to lift someone who has fallen from stairs?

In our quest to ascend the ladder of development, we might have left something crucial, down below. I hope, its still not too late, to sit down and pull that ingredient up and put it where it belongs. Our Heart.

Kisi ki muskurahaton pe ho nisar

Kisi ka dard mil sake to le udhaar

Kisi ke waaste ho tere dil mein pyaar

Jeena isi ka naam hai

I am not implying that I am without any faults. At times, numerous times, I have hesitated. Have Not done things, when action was required. But, still, I am not stone. We do not have to be dead inside. To Live Outside.

*Travel Promotion for Bodhgaya - Its a wonderful Place. Absolutely wonderful. Coming from a person, who has traveled a bit, you can take my word for it. :D

Enough of serious posts. Next blog coming up on my favorite topic. Travel. :P

Cry-Baby

2011-03-11T00:26:00.004+05:30

When we are kids, we want some things. We may not always justify why, but we still want it. Just for the love of it. And if we do not get it, me make noise. Lots of it. Like the world is falling. Tears come down unheralded. Sobs persistent. But why? Just because, we can not comprehend why we can not have something which we truly want. It happened with me once as well. But, the thing for which I cried was not really a thing. It was not a toy or an extra slice of chocolate. So, instead of trying to explain it, let me just describe the incident in a way as well as I can remember.

I had just started going to school. My parents had enrolled me to a one named Sarvoday Sishu Niketan, which was barely 5 mins walk from my home. I was a well behaved kid (and still am ;) ). My parents had not much trouble in trying to convince me to go to school. And since I started attending school fairly early, I think, I was not more than 5 at that time. A lady used to come to my house daily in the morning and used to take my hand and would take me to the school along with half a dozen other kids. It was so simple. Come to the house, take my hand and off to school. Papa would leave for office soon after seeing me happily go. Until one day..

The lady was a bit late in coming to my house. Unususl for her. So we waited. Then a time came, when waiting was not an option. So, papa said,'ok, get ready beta, I will take you to the school today.' My heart just leapt upon hearing this. During the whole process of 'picking the bag, taking the tiffin, checking the water bottle', the only thing which went through my mind was - 'papa is taking me to school.Papa is taking me to school.' Then fate intervened.

The lady came, just at the time, papa was taking my tiny hand into his. Holding it tightly, firmly, lovingly. Just in time, my papa thought with relief. Just not the right time, I thought with extreme sadness. I had so convinced myself that I will go to school with papa within seconds of hearing it from papa itself, that the thought of it not happening was beyond my simplest imagination. (At age 5, every imagination is simple. We do not know, if any imagination is wild). Papa just gave my hand to the lady to take me off. I guess, I was just too dumbstruck to protest. I did not say anything, but I think my face gave away. Papa knew that this is not right. Not at this time. He understood that he had promised me something (okay..he had not promised...but atleast I thought..that if you say something that you will do..it is as good as a promise). But office commitments forced him to abide by what he had done. As I slowly trudged away from home, towards the school, I kept looking back. Like giving papa(or mummy..) a sign that -please do not do this to me. Do not take away this chance of going to school with papa from me. I did not weep till I could see them, hoping against hope, that papa will see. He will come running and take my hand from hers and we will happily go to school. This did not happen.

As we hit the road, I could not restrain myself. I cried. A lot. I threw my arms and legs all around. I wanted to get free of her hand and run all the way back to papa. But, what physical power a 5 year old has against a mid thirties lady who is determined to take me to a school. She, who thinks, I am revolting against her small kingdom, when all I want is a little time of my papa, which I thought I had been promised and I could have got, only for this lady to come and snatch it away from me. I can still imagine her literally dragging me all the way to school, with my tiny legs brushing the rough of the road. I think, I can safely say, that I have never cried more than that day ever.

My parents knew what had happened. And they understood. And to this day, I think, they regret it at what transpired that day, and if they could change it, they definitely would. There could not have been better way to tell my parents that I have a heart which loves them. Off all the little incidents which may have happened at that time at home or in the school, I remember nothing. I do not remember the previous day or the day followed. But this incident is just etched. Never to be forgotten.

This tells me that we can derive pleasures from little things. A little attention. A genuine Thank You. A sincere Sorry. A Frank Talk. Opening your heart to someone. An innocent smile.

Still a kid. That I am. There is no one to restrain me anymore, to stop me anymore in getting what I want. But, still we can not get everything which we want. Its just that you will not see me dragging my feet on the road anymore.