Searching for quintessence

Maulik, mom loves you!

2011-02-25T09:32:00.017+05:30

The most wonderful thing in life is to see your kids grow up. The way they observe, talk, walk, eat – everything is so dynamic and you can never match the speed.

Maulik is a sensitive kid. He saw us when papa passed away and without saying or asking much, was an integral part of our cynical life. He would say things that we never expected from a 5 year old.

His concern towards naani, the video he shot for her when she was in the hospital, his attempt to avoid any conversation around an accident, his saying sorry to the stars (naanu as he would call one of them) one day when he misbehaved with naani – all of it is saying the unsaid pain and anxiety in him. The day he met mom in the hospital, he was quick to say, ‘chalo achha hai naani God ke paas nahi ja rahi’.

Today, everyone talks about Maulik turning a naughty kid, naughtier than what he was an year back. I scold him, scream at him and fail to straighten him. But somehow, deep within I can see my failure in his behavior. For almost 6 months after papa passed away, I was never with him. He spent his days either with cousins, friends or neighbors, but never with me. He wandered on his journey from the age of 5 to 6, the very crucial years of his life, and I was busy with my own self, trying to gain strength to overcome the blows of life. In the process – I clearly ignored him.

While all of us complain about his behavior, I can see through him when he is sleeping next to me, sliding his hands in my t-shirt. I have failed enormous times in asking someone else to drop him at the bus stop so that I do not miss my cab. But I eventually miss it everyday. ‘Mom will drop me’ he would maintain. He even threatened to quit school if I cannot drop him to the bus stop. Countless discussions and here’s the final verdict with moisture in the eyes – ‘aap soft soft meri jaan ho, aur koi itna pyaara nahi and so I will not go with anyone else’. Speechless I was.

I have spent the entire year cribbing and complaining, cursing God for taking away so much from me. Someone who was always there, someone who, I feel is much more precious than anything I could ever deserve - Maulik, meaning precious.

Maulik, I am seeing the sensitive little fool in you. The mature mind who gets fidgety the moment he senses gloom in the house. I am sorry if I ignored you somewhere, and I promise to make life better and this world more beautiful for you.

Life after papa.

2011-01-14T11:33:00.006+05:30

And there we were. Mom, Abby and Anuj, with teeka smeared on our forehead and roli on our wrists. There was silence, in the temple, and inside. Wet eyes, dry thoughts, and papa in our prayers. This was the day, an year ago, when papa was made to leave us.

We blamed God, we blamed the driver who rammed his truck into him, we blamed our destiny – but nothing made it easier to accept the hitting reality – papa was no more. The Whys and the Hows of what happened to us remained unanswered. The only piercing answer to everything was his death. The fact that he was no more.

And then we reached the orphanage. The same place where we celebrated maulik’s birthday last year. As papa had helped him slice the cake, the little faces were gleaming at the thought of gulping it. There was joy, so intrinsic to papa’s presence.

Today, our visit was rather sober.

A lot has changed for us in this year. Though emotionally we feel broke, mentally we have become much tougher. All of us, including Maulik. The little one asks intense questions about naanu, and I can never answer. So many things have pained us cruelly. Like the time when mom returned from the hospital and was face to face with papa’s picture on the wall. Or when after getting my promotion letter at the last job, I so much wanted to call papa. Recently at shopping, when glancing through those kurtas I pointed at one for her, I saw mom turning her face away. Beautiful crimson it was; clearly not the color she wants to consider now. It hurt. It fuckin’ did hurt.

The year has taught me that it is not just a life that falls silent. It is an entire world that crashes, a beautiful era that vanishes. The house that papa tastefully renovated only two years back stands silent, and waiting. The thing that they most enjoyed - their evening walks - would be now so lonely for mom and slower. Her favorite possessions in the almirah - those vivacious, flashy sarees - which once defined her style statement, are now hanging redundantly. For the stylish, savvy, prim and proper mom, I hope her personality sustains against the harsh social norms.

So ya, while the world took a 360 degree turn for us, there is one thing that remains unchanged. The cheerful faces of these young bubbly kids at the orphanage. One look at them and I felt life is enduring. Ajay is 5 and treats me like a friend. He flashes a smile the moment I tell him he is the naughtiest. He indeed is. But these kids have such contented faces. They are so young to acknowledge things, but much appreciate our visit. There was a smile on my face as I tried to wipe that tear on the corner of my eye.

Life indeed is a cruel reality. But we need to go on. And smile should be essential.

Perception of Inception

2010-09-02T03:33:00.003+05:30

Whatever Shakespeare must have said, life certainly is not a play. It’s not a game that we kind of play up and down till we are finally put to sleep.

And definitely we are not toys. Not at all. So why do we perform. Yes we do, to commands, to wishes, to emotions. Right from the word go in our life to the moment when the coordinates match up to put us to sleep, we keep struggling with our acts. And this, much as we believe, is all controlled in the heart more than in the head.

Through our life we keep playing it up in the brain and most of us fail because I guess it is not meant to be like that. We plan, we align, and we connive actions based on a strategy which defines how it will affect others. Most of what we do is extremely planned to make sure it affects the surroundings in a certain designated way. So we are playing up to achieve an objective. And that is where we try and make life complex. Life is simpler when and if we realize that it is meant to be one’s own.

Agreed emotions play up big time and drive whatever they drive. But they play up to make things better; and hence they can stay. Negative emotions are destructive – much to the generator than to the target. That’s how we have made life such complicated maze. We do the most inhuman thing of influencing behaviours, thoughts, actions – not just our own, but also of others who complete our environment.

Imagine if life was all about the head, it would not have been a difficult game. Then we could run life like a detailed flowchart with curtailed chambers, defined access, and streamlined processes. I feel the heart, or the emotion, or humane feel brings in the challenge. It is all about the scheme of things and one’s ability to perceive and see things exactly the way they are designed to be seen. It’s just a perception of your feeling positive or negative about anything in the creation. Whatever perceived with negative intention will generate negative results and same positive intentions will breed positive outcome.

Unfortunately for most of us, our life is not our life but a culmination of what and hows of others that we live by everyday to satisfy this quench of aspirations. So the whole point is to just let life flow smooth without making an effort to strategize thinking, influence conduct and try to manage outcome. Plainly put inception is just out of the order, not needed, but so much there. Inception of aspirations is the real challenge for life.

Thanks Sumit for the discussion

Father's Day - Miss you papa!!

2010-06-20T17:29:00.004+05:30

You always thought that I did not see, The lessons of life that you were telling me,
Or that I would never carefully hear, Each of your words that were always so dear.

I did falter a lot in life, But not too long and never too dirty,
I did hurt and trouble you too much, But never lost your value-upbringing

Perhaps you thought I missed it all, And that we'd grow apart,
But papa, I was breathing everything, As it was always written on my heart.

Without you, Papa, I wouldn't be, The strong woman I am today;
You built a strong foundation, No one can take away.

I've grown up with your values, And I'm very glad I did;
So here's to you, dear papa, From your forever grateful beti.

Maulik turns 5

2010-04-23T15:32:00.009+05:30

We needed reasons to smile. Maulik's birthday reminded me that life has to go on and the little one deserves to celebrate. Arranged a small party for him - 4 gals and 1 boy. The kids seemed to have a good time.

I saw papa in my dreams

2010-03-29T09:56:00.003+05:30

He was holding my hand, rubbing his fingers on my nails, just the way I like. He said, “don’ worry, I am never going to leave you.” Then he planted a kiss on my cheeks and said, “You have seen enough pain, and things are going to change soon”. This was followed by a heart to heart chat while most of the time, as always, I was talking. But this time, I was not crying.

As we were riding in the car, he was slightly fretful about my driving, though was trying hard to hide his worries. Occasionally, he would blurt his remarks of caution. “Dhyaan se”, he would mumble. But sweet, he maintained I drive well. In his maroon sweater he looked good. I wore the same for his kirya.

As we went around Gurgaon, I experienced something that I hadn’t for some months now…I was smiling, not a phoney, void smile, but one, from deep within. One which was clearly spelling that I was happy, very happy. For once, I was feeling protected.

We ate together and I feasted – food was never so delectable. Every bite of dal- roti was tastier than the earlier one. With every bite he would feed, he looked into my eyes. There was a connection. I could read his soul, and he could read mine. He could sense my melancholy, and I could feel his concern. A relationship that sees no boundaries – of life, of death, of relationship, of distance - nothing.

For a moment it seemed like life was for living. And I pinched myself - dreams do not stay for long. They pass away with every night; and so, he had to go. His words of parting were words of motivation and assurance. My guardian angel that he is, he will forever be with me, he promised. Papa, I miss you – in dreams and in reality.

The circle of life

2010-03-13T14:49:00.007+05:30

While mom spent more than 20 days on the 3rd floor of Metro hospital, Anuj is on the 1st floor at Paras. So here at Paras, I often press 3 instead of 1, to go to the ICU and land up at the maternity center of the hospital.

Maternity Center, 3rd floor - A place where life is proliferating. Giggles, lullaby and laughter…something that for sure is not for me. I Press 1 and the gloom again. The neurosurgery ICU - all patients waiting to meet their relatives, some would never be able to.

And here I see the game. From floor 1 to 3, life takes a full circle. It dies out at one place and multiplies at the other. Hmm, the lesson of life and death needs no instructor. I am learning it the hard way.

I am losing it. Death and pain has become so proximate. Hospital looks like second home. Suddenly it all looks staged...after all I am not a monster to deserve this. Or maybe, I need to be a better person.

Papa, calling for help.

My dream

2010-03-13T00:05:00.002+05:30

I see him...lying on the road, wearing the same floral print blanket that he was wearing to the crematorium. I see police men emptying his pockets. 9 kms away from sonipat, I see papa waiting to be identified, and an ambulance on its way to bring him to his workplace, the civil hospital. I see it all the time, a dream visible to my open eyes.

Civil hospital - a place where he did, what no one ever did – extended help to anyone and everyone who needed him and had the audacity to rebuke his friends on the face if they ever went wrong . A man of words and principles, an accomplished person and a renowned professional.

Papa always said, “You should do what’s right, never reprobate your character for someone’s mistake”. I never ever thought I was capable of that. But today I think I am and I can. Yes, I can forgive the one who caused papa’s death, and the one who is responsible for Anuj’s condition. The jolts of life are making me a better person. Or maybe not, but I am trying for sure.

Help me papa.

Papa, why?

2010-01-28T01:25:00.013+05:30

Whenever I was in a problem situation, you would say, “ho jayega”. The two words were nothing less than a confirmation that things have been managed. They say when you say your prayers, God actually listens to your problems and helps you unravel them. Saying anything to you meant the same.

Be it mental, emotional, financial, or any other apprehension…you always guaranteed relief. But now, wondering - ab sab kaise ho jayega?

As I try and go to bed every night, my mind wanders to find an answer and understand why you left me alone to fight all my problems, and at the same time, entrusted bigger responsibilities on me. Do you actually consider me that competent and think I can handle it all? Or are you, like always, testing me, waiting to give me that comforting, sarcastic smile as I fail?

Papa, how will I get my answers to those unanswered questions that you have left behind? How will I ever pass in any test, now that you are not around to help?

Why papa, Why?

Pain: It hurts no more.

2010-01-24T01:16:00.001+05:30

After experiencing the highest form of grief, there seems to be nothing that can hurt more. But when it comes to mom, it pinches. I doubt HIS existence now, but if God is there – he has been most unfair to her. Everytime I see her in the ICU, my heart bleeds. But there is numbness. I can’t feel no pain, no fear, because I have seen the worst already.

Life: Some scattered pieces of glass.

2010-01-21T10:58:00.003+05:30

And life takes a wrong turn. The road ahead is rough, but there is no other route. There are certain situations that you cannot afford to avoid. Am living through some of them.

Papa’s death has brought us on this sloppy road which seems to be leading to nowhere. But this tough journey is inevitable, and another fall is intolerable.

As I met mom on her 4th day in the ICU, she looked so docile and petite – very unlike her usual self. Her tough authoritative body language was so mild and timid. Inspite of all this, I lied.

Never had lying pinched me so much. As I blurted scripted sentences of papa’s recovery, she seemed to be getting more relaxed and positive. How will I do it to her – snatch all her positivity and enthusiasm to recover by saying those dreaded words – Papa is no more. I wish time can stand still.

Papa

2010-01-21T10:50:00.018+05:30

When he arrived, he was lifeless. An immensely loved and respected person, he was suddenly referred to as a body.

Cruel death - just a body he became. I touched his arm, fearing if it was intact. I felt him – his arms, his hands – even as he lay dead, his hands were so comforting. I could have lived by him like that forever, drawing strength and inspiration from his lifeless body. But he had to go.

They took him away and lit his pyre, burning all the happiness that we deserved. His last rites saw hundreds – friends, relatives, doctors, and many unknown sobbing people – people he hadn’t met for long but impacted in some way or the other. I always knew it, but everyone who came, reiterated that he was a great man. Indeed he was.

Will miss you papa.

Life mein no twist

2009-06-09T16:37:00.006+05:30

No, I was not busy and there was no other reason which kept me away from this space. Honestly speaking, I was just lazy. Lazy to think, opine or discuss...thanks to our news channels for feeding me my share of news, views and discussions and inflicting their opinion on me. Gosh..I feel I was brain dead all these days.

What I missed to bring to this space was Maulik’s birthday, all happy and fun. Breakfast with lovely kids at the orphanage, tit bits and the favourite Noddy Cake for lunch at School and finally a scrumptious dinner at Rajdhaani with Nani-Nani, Papa-Mummy and Bua....memories, beautiful and enjoyable. A following day lunch party at Bikanerwala with my at-work friends was indeed heart warming. Thanks Guys!

Oh ya, we celebrated our anniversary last month. Cannot imagine we have successfully spent 7 years together. Wo!! A day at Select City Walk was nice, from shopping to hogging on donuts – fultoo masti!God be with us forever.

So I am back...charged with thoughts and emotions. Watch out for more....soon!!!

गणतंत्र दिवस की शुभकामनायें

2009-01-26T23:00:00.000+05:30

Picture Source - http://www.photowalking.info/ (Thanks Abby)

Happy Republic Day

2009-01-26T17:01:00.007+05:30

सारे जहाँ से अच्छा, हिन्दुस्तान हमारा

A salute to the NSG commandos who lost their lives to counter terrorists, the policemen who protected our friends in Mumbai, the scientists who send chandrayaan to the moon, the man who got us the olympic gold medal...to all those who have made a change, by being the change.

Welcome the change!!

2009-01-21T10:38:00.021+05:30

Obama kisses his wife after taking oath of office to become the 44th US president (Pic: AP)

Obama's inaugural speech was exciting and promising. With his new media efforts, Obama is beginning his journey in style, promising open communication, transparency, and participation. While the much-hyped inaugural proceedings did generate great amount of interest in our country too, there definitely is an apprehension about what will change with us

There are promises of stronger relationship and a close strategic partnership with India and of ending the age long military intervention in Iraq and Afghanistan. The promise did resound in his speech – “Know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.” In one of his earlier address, Obama had said that India and US must work together to combat the common threats of the 21st century as both countries have been victims of catastrophic terrorist attacks.

Heard a white American say - This is the best thing that has happened to America, ever. We want Obama to do good, we want America to do good things to the world. We hope, we pray, we look up – Welcome Obama, we are looking forward to The Change.

We lost her

2009-01-03T22:42:00.022+05:30

Nani passed away in her sleep on the cold night of 30th December following a cardiac attack. Finally her medical condition took over her willingness and enthusiasm to live more. How many times had she fooled death. While the cancer hospital had been her second home all these months, this time her lonely stay(attendants cannot accompany ICU patients in the night) lasted 40 days as she finally lost the battle. She was alone when she breathed her last in the respiratory ICU at Metro Hospital in Noida, she was alone in the mortuary the entire night, she was alone when she was being cremated at the Nigambodh Ghaat.

A true fighter, she fought the deadly cancer bravely for a little more than 3 years. Even the last time when we met, she ordered me to get a nice Loreal shampoo. Her face had an angelic glow, the heavens it seems were already smiling at her. While the doctors at the Dharamshila cancer hospital had already bid her a farewell, she was refusing to accept that she had to go. The doctors always said that she was the most inquisitive and alert patient who exactly knew what treatment and therapies were happening on her.

After a terrible night of waiting to see her body, we finally met her in the morning. The cremation ritual was a bigger ordeal. It was 7 bodies, maybe more, that i witnessed in the crematorium. Life seemed such a frail thing suddenly. Covered in a pretty red shawl, she was lying peacefully. Atleast, there was no pain. Finally when the pyre was to be lit, her face was uncovered...a moment that will haunt me for days. Her face lacked all the lusture and beauty. What had death done to her.

Finally there were flames and we saw that heap of logs shrinking. A shivering realization that the lady who did amazing things for her 6 children and 10 grandchildren and never expected anything ever was gone. An angelic heart, a beautiful face, a warrior in character - we have lost her. The memories of her sweating in the sun to make us onion tandoori paranthas on the terrace, her making those doli ki rotis for us, applying coconut oil to my hair, saving me from mom's scolding, maintaining I never needed to lose weight, giving me her favorite saree to wear for my school farewell, kissing my forehead, appreciating the gajar ka halwa that I make, standing by me during my wedding......countless memories remain.

Badi mummy, we shall miss you.

Nani is going

2008-12-24T00:36:00.003+05:30

The last time I met her, she was on the hospital bed. Surrounded by less life and more life supporting devices, she looked frail and tired. In a condition when something had infected her brain, she could recognize me. I tried to speak to her, invain. I kissed her on the head and left.

Ever since that they, there has been a fear of losing her. God forbid, but the one that day felt like the last kiss. For the first time in the last three years, she looked exhausted. A fighter that she is, she has faced and fought the deadly cancer in its face. Three years was a long time.

Everything about her has changed, but her beauty. Ironically, she still had that glow in her face - aura i may say. Those hands which have served us food a zillion times looked so tiny. The color of her eyes too had changed, they weren't even looking at me.

Now that the doctors have closed the files too, we know there is not much time. The image of nani - loving, caring, scolding, pampering us keeps coming in flashback dreams. Today as she breathes, we pray for her next breathe, pray that she meets the almighthy in wellness and sees no pain. Pray that she bids adieu in comfort and peace.

Nani, wish this was not inevitable. God bless.

Mumbai hostage crisis nears end

2008-11-27T23:22:00.008+05:30

Its been 26 hours and Mumbai is still under attack. While the situation in the city is improving, the hostage drama at Taj and Oberoi still seems to be on. The day saw an increase in the number of dead, including 7 foreign nationals. The wife and 3 children of the GM, Taj were also killed in the hotel.

As media battles time and terror, Advani tries to strike the right note with his (untimely) visit. There will be politics, there will be more drama, and their will be political statements in the days to come. That being reality shall remain, the victims and the martyrs shall soon be forgotten -unless we pledge to make some noise.

Mumbai is burning - Part 2, worst ever terror attack

2008-11-27T01:16:00.007+05:30

As I type and watch, I see blood, I hear gun shots. The last two hours of Mayhem in the financial capital of our country has left 25 dead, panic, confusion, terror, chaos, confusion and a lot more. CNN-IBN's reporter, Toral Varia got caught into mid of gunshots. Studio asks her to get to a safe place first.

While ministers plan and decide, terrorists are moving on the roads of the city, firing indiscriminately. Two of them even fired in Cama hospital. As I watch the reporting, I see people in the background running helter skelter and I see one person dropping with a gun shot right there in broad view. The ATS chief Hemant Karkare too is hit by a bullet.

A terrorist firing with AK-47 at the CST station

People being rushed into vans being taken to the hospital, some of them lifted like cattle…all this and more happening right there on the streets of Mumbai as we all adjust our blankets to sleep – just as we always do. Afterall, tragedy is not mine until it knocks my door. They say Mumbai is the city that never sleeps. After what it has witnessed today, it never will.

It all started sometime after 9 pm. It is 2 am, and it is still on. I am tired, but the terrorists are not. They are prepared, we never are. We are tired, they never are. The country is in shame, the heart of the country is at the mercy of some lunatics. Taj is on fire, there is firing in Mariott, there are hostages in Oberoi, a blast in Oberoi, boat with explosives found at gateway – even the Chief Minister has shamelessly admitted that things are going out of control.

It’s everywhere, the most organized terror attack in the country. The police is baffled with the magnitude and continuous nature of this blast. So am I - death toll reaches 80 and the number of injured crosses 200 - mindless violence everywhere. Twitter tells me that a lot of people in South Mumbai are held up and cannot move home as there are gun shots all over and around the area.

Guys we have bombs under our as**s. Will we STAND UP? CONGRESS, BJP, JD - are you hearing. The terrorists are here, right in our face. They are desperate to do what they wanted to. We maybe tired typing, they are not. They are prepared, we never are. As I watch, I see it becoming gory…blood on the streets. I can type no more…this seems to be never ending. The city is under attack… and we have lost many heroes already - the ATS chief Hemant Karkare, ACP Ashok Kamte and Encounter specialist Vijay Saluskar dead. What is the city coming too?

The worst image that none of us could have ever seen in the worst of our dreams, the dome of Taj Mumbai on fire...terrorists having taken over the city. God bless.

Read more in Part 1: Mumbai Under Craziest Ever Terror Attack

Mumbai Under Craziest Ever Terror Attack - Part 1

2008-11-26T23:36:00.006+05:30

They are back, once again in Mumbai. The terrorists, as the police says, are carrying out a unique fidayeen attack at this time while I am wrting this blog. After indescrimainate firing in about 8-10 places in the city of Mumbai, they are now holed up in Taj and Oberoi, the most well known premium hotels of the city. There are various casualities reported from the hotel.

As news of the blasts come from three places, the police and ATS is in quick action. While the VT station and Oberoi have been cordoned off, there are reports of more than 7 people dead. Panic grips the city and a lot of panic tweets are being exchanged at twitter.

There is pain and there is confusion all over. There are gun shots, there are blasts and there is blood all over. As the IBN reporter talks about earlier blasts, we hear some more gun shots in her background infron of tsome JJ college. This sporadic firing acoss various parts of south Mumbai has shaken us all from our sleep .

As I type, I hear that more than 20 people have died, including one foreign nationale. The lobby at Oberoi is at fire and so is a Bharat Petroleum depot. The petroleum depot has been blown up by a granade attack. The worst evening that Mumbai has ever seen. While police is requesting Mumbaikars to stay indoors, ministers are meeting to plan the next course of action.

Looks like there are more than 15 teams of terrorists - a modus operandi which shows the desperation of these criminals to do what they want to. Dadar station, Oberoi hotel, Taj Hotel, VT station, BP petrol pump, Metro station, Leopala Hotel..they are everywhere, well planned, determined...

While i get tired typing, this does not seem to stop, donno whats happening...all i see is blood, all i hear is gun shots....its a bloody night for Mumbai. God bless us, end this mayhem.

Obama is No. 1

2008-11-06T23:08:00.003+05:30

While the media giants proudly announced their No. 1 positions today, Obama is the one who clearly emerged No.1 everwhere. Obama brought cheers and tears to an overwhelmed country when he said - "It's been a long time coming. But tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America," . The ecstasy was all over - in the newspapers, on TV, and in the online world. Blogs from around the world are reading excitement. A delighted blogger pens,"We turned the corner here in the United States! We did the right thing and we’ll all be better for it!"

While bloggers around the world are already debating what Obama can, and will do, I shall say my thoughts in AP's Walter Mears' words: "Audacity won. Now Barack Obama must validate the hope and deliver the change he promised. He's already changed America by becoming the first black man to win the White House. His challenge is to change the course of its government and guide it through hard times and past the financial crisis he inherits as he takes office."

All we can say is - MU-BARACK OBAMA and ALL the BEST.

Navrataras and Eid

2008-09-30T14:44:00.004+05:30

Cannot resist sharing this quote from Vivek, "M_sl_m & H_nd_ are not complete without 'u' & 'i' Happy Eid-ul-Fitr & Navratas".

Celebration is in the air. Nothing has been able to kill the spirit of festivity. Ramzaan, Durga Pooja, Navrataras, Eid....happiness shall remain, no matter what.

Lets stay and pray united. And as i said the last time, its Navrataras time, so no chicks, no chicken!!

The muslim Identity

2008-09-30T12:54:00.005+05:30

From Ashutosh of IBN7, one of the best pieces on Muslim identity - an opinions which takes names, and talks in as many words.

The bigger question is does the community care why one of the most gifted minds of the 20th century Salman Rushdie can't breathe in fresh air and Tasleema Nasreen can't live in peace even under one of the most secular regimes this country has seen? Why do Lalu Prasad Yadav and Mulayam Singh Yadav have to rationalise the lifting of ban on SIMI? Why does it happen that when Maulana Madni of Deoband organises an anti-terrorism rally at Ramleela Maidan and openly condemns terrorism, Urdu press is out to tear him apart?

It is this so-called radical Islam or political Islam which is creating problems for their own community and society at large. But irony is there is no VOCAL forceful anti-radical Islam or anti political-Islam voice, neither in India nor outside. Majority of sane and liberal voice is keeping quiet, or if not so, then not making enough noise to be heard by its own community.
Do read the entire post - Jamia encounter and Muslim identity

Very truly said, Muslims should understand that some of the fanatic individuals in their community are the ones who are marring the beauty of Islam. Just as we, the educated Hindus of the country, do not shy in criticizing the Bajrang Dal extremists and feeling ashamed of the Gujrat riots, the educated Muslims should also come out together and detach the fanatic section which is taking to terrorism. Lets be more radical in our approach and vehemently and sternly stand against any act of violence against the human life - terrorism, rioting, mob violence etc. The call of the hour is that Muslims need to react strongly against Muslim youth who are killing in the name of Allah and the Hindus, should voice against incidents of violence against the Christains. I just wish the country (the hindus, muslims, christains unanimously) appreciates and adapts a strong common approach. We cannot live with this fear forever.

I would like to add a very apt comment by Abhishek here -

The literati and the urban muslims condemn the fanaticism vehemently. No denying that. THAT is the reason we co-exist.
The problem is when the powerful and authoritative, like that Jama Masjid cleric who disagreed with Jamia Nagar encounter, raise voice and influence people.
The fatwa, which is a LOL subject for us now, is an important religious decree and used so stupidly by the clerics. Salman Khan ne Ganpati kyun manaya, Sania ne skirt kyun pehni, Tasleema ne book kyun likhi... That needs to be stopped. Just like those Hindus burning churches need to be stopped.

The game of terror

2008-09-21T09:40:00.002+05:30

The images of the Delhi blasts very nerve –wrecking. The picture of a lady, all bruised and in blood, near Gopaldaas tower at CP has been haunting me since past so many days. My last beautiful memories of CP have been suddenly washed off. All I can think of is the blast that ripped the heart of Delhi, killing innocent people.

Thw word 'people' sounds so distant. Unless there is a name to it, a tragedy is never our tragedy. We call up our friends and family, realize all we know are well, and then life moves on. So unless it hits us in the heart, our withered hearts don’t bleed.

I remember my last discussion with Harsha, when she ripped me on my anti-Pakistan views. She was right. Terror has no face, no religion, and it speaks just one language – the language of death. Yes, I agree more than anything else that it is not about countries, boundaries, not about the distant things called people, but about precious human lives.

My tears last night were not only for those who lost their lives in the Merriot Hotel blast, but for my silly helplessness. The blast set the hotel on fire killed many having their iftaar party (the evening meal for breaking the daily fast during the month of Ramadan.) The sight of a little baby in his dad’s arm on the 3^rd floor of the inferno not just scared me, but also moved the selfish little being in me.

The 9/11 attacks, London bombings, Sarojini Nagar blasts, the latest terror attacks across Delhi and now this one at Islamabad…the images of death and sympathy are far more than my memory can hold, far more for us to forgive and forget.

But are we all trying to build immunity against such a devastation. Are we, with every passing attack, becoming more agitated, but more tolerant and prepared. Devangana was right when she said that if we bring it on our national agenda, media focuses on the issue for a consistent period, we probably can win the battle that the terror groups have declared long ago. But the big question – who has the time and the mettle?

The soulful cremation of M C Sharma saw a large number of people, wet eyed, praying for the departed soul. People who were proud of his sacrifice for a cause. But can we adopt the same cause too? Can we as individuals try and bring the much needed attention to the issue of terrorism. Can we not talk about it, make people aware of the larger problem and drive efforts to convince the government that we need a solution – A solution to this dirty game of terror which is ruthlessly overpowering our existence.

I am thinking. People wake up.

Long time...

2008-08-30T09:32:00.001+05:30

It is always good, interesting, little pleasing things in life that bring me here to blog. Always thought that i will have more time to spend here here when office moves to Gurgaon. But now, back in Gurgaon I still am gasping for some time. Work life is hectic and at home, every time Windows displays welcome, Maulik jumps on it to play his favourite Monkey-wali-game. So as the laptop is usually kept safe in the bag pack and with the desktop busy playing movies, I am left with no tools. My words, I comfortably chew and finish in my mind. I guess the typewriter days were better.

No I am not busy. Comfortable office hours and an hour of gyming brings me home very much in time to take little Maulik to the park…something that was missing for some time. The mornings too are not a rush - I have finally been able to use some of the bath accessories that were nearing expiry. With momma taking him through the morning chores, Mauli looks a happier kid.

The needs and wants never end, and never should. But yes, the certain amount of peace that nearness to office has given, is amazing.

I'm loving it.

He did it again!!!

2008-08-30T09:27:00.003+05:30

His first prize came when he was two. Judged as the most friendly baby at Mother’s pride and the “Sunny Smile baby” 3 months later, Maulik was getting home certificates at an age when I would shudder at the thought of reciting a poem to my uncles and aunts.

For him, this time it was a bigger platform. Dressed as Hanuman, his very own Superhero, he won a third prize at the Inter-school fancy dress competition. His dialogues were not easy, but he did pracice a 1000 times. Finally with butterflies in the tummy, he was able to emit all those memorized lines “Lanka ko jala ke aaonga, Dushman ko mar gira doonga, Sita ko bacha kar laoonga, Ram bhakt kehlaoonga. Jai shree ram!!!

It was’nt easy and we really felt it was little too much for him to remember all that…but everything for limelight. He did it. Back home the next day, swelling with pride, he was telling us about how the Director mam came to his classroom and asked all the babies (that’s how he refers to his classmates) to clap for him. The chocolates that she presented at that time had little meaning. It was the appreciation and acknowledgement that elated him.

Will not say keep it up Maulik. Stay happy kid.

Maulik' pics: http://www.flickr.com/photos/baxiabhishek/2799916106/

Sorry Dr. Talwar

2008-07-14T11:29:00.000+05:30

It took the investigating agencies about 90 days to nail down the culprits of the Aarushi murder case. This indeed was the murder most foul – the little girl full of life smashed in head and slashed in throat. The gory details of the murder were just not the only thing that stunned us, the bigger surprise came with the claim that her very own parents were involved.

All that followed was character assassination of not just the family and friends, but also the little girl who must have literally sobbed in her grave. After CBI’s admission of the case findings last evening, some news channels openly came to surrender to the fact that they were reckless, they did tarnish the image of the Talwars and also came up with ‘breaking news’ that did not spare even spare the murdered girl.

The story on Headlines Today, ‘tears in heaven’, admitted that their irresponsible reporting would have made poor Aarushi cry in heaven. The story ended with saying “Sorry aarushi, we apologize to you. May your soul rest in peace” – the videos of the pretty innocent lad waving good bye did leave me wet in the eyes.

Was it just the media, wasn’t it not the aam aadmi too who enjoyed the murder theories day in and day out just like the last over in the india-pakistan series. Am I also not the culprit to have become judgemental and confidently expressed my opinion in public. Yes I am at fault and have been a part of this sin. There may be many holes in the final story and no one seems to be convinced, but Dr. Talwar is a free man today. If that means he is actually innocent, just like all of us, I hold an apology too – Sorry Dr. Talwar.

Aarushi, hope justice has been done.

The three words..from Rajdeep!!!

2008-06-24T11:29:00.006+05:30

Hello! Hellooo! Hell-o!!

The three words sounded music, and they were from none other than Rajdeep Sardesai. There was silence on the other side of the connection- with a frozen me. I was speechless – a situation that I experienced the very first time in my life. No words erupted from either my mind nor did any could drop from my mouth. The line was soon disconnected. I was ecstatic. Yes it was Rajdeep’s number and yes it was him. I heard him….but gosh could not talk. Maybe the next day I will give it another shot, i thought.

I called up the next day, and I did not miss this opportunity.

Me: Hello, good evening sir. If you are not busy, can we talk for 2 minutes.

Rajdeep: What is about madam.

Me: Well nothing in particular. Wanted to talk for a moment.

Rajdeep: Then I am sorry mam, unless it is something specific, I do not talk.

Me: Not even if it is for appreciation.

Rajdeep: (sounding confused) Well thanks for calling for appreciating, but no.

Me: You have already wasted 30 seconds and I just have a minute and a half more.

Rajdeep: Well tell me please.

Spontaneous praises. I was surprised at the beauty of the words that were flowing. Wo.(It was an effort to stop myself.)

Rajdeep: I am touched mam. Thanks so much for calling and for all your appreciation. (sounding so gentle and polite). Thanks so much. And I’ll really appreciate if you could send in your feedback, constructive feedback. I’ll sure work on it.

(In the background, maulik yells…mamma, mamma)

Rajdeep: So you are a mom too.

Me: Yes

Rajdeep: Sweet. And working too?

Me: Ya. I work for HT Media.

Rajdeep: Good. Very Good. And madam, thanks again for calling. Am sincerely touched. All the best lady. All the very best.

Thanks Rajashree for the number. This indeed was bliss.

Pink city turns red, hell

2008-05-15T10:10:00.004+05:30

The pink city of Jaipur is red today. With blood splattered all over the streets that witnessed tragedy and pain yesterday, the city has a sad story to tell. Just the time when devotees were waiting for parshaad at the hanuman temple, there was a loud blast. Many fell - some never got up. The death of 60 people in the city isn’t what this beautiful historical destination would have forseen for them.

As the series of bombs exploded in various parts of the city, once again the TV channels got their share of masala to report. The state machinery is being questioned, the intelligence agencies are being blamed, top journos are yelling about terrorism, all the f*****g terrorist outfits are suspected. At the end of it - all we will know is some survivor stories, how some people died, how some were saved miraculously, how many actually die, who could be blamed and how many arrests could the police manage. There is no other chapter in this book of ‘reporting terrorist attack’.

The country has witnessed some of the goriest terror attacks in the last few months, with that in Mumbai which I very candidly remember. But none other than the victims and their families remember them. We have no time, the government has the next elections to plan for, the opposition is strategizing for a win, most of the journalists are either travelling or talking about food and lifestyle. So who will talk about terrorism and not just talk, but discuss, debate and compel the government to try to look for solution. We really need to get harder on our stand: we will not tolerate this anymore.

But we Indians do not take time to adjust - adjust to situations, problems, difficulities etc. Now looks like we are getting used to terrorism too. Lets not turn our backs to the tragedy, atleast pray for those who suffered. This killer called terrorism can come to anyone, anytime. We are lucky only till the day we are not in the middle of it. Unless those who can really do something about it fasten their belts, looks like this menace is here to stay. The memories of our recent Jaipur trip got a jolt yesterday. What if terrorists had planned it all on the day we were there, in the temple, at the market place.

Tryst with pain

2008-04-28T13:42:00.005+05:30

Pain always hurts, its just varying tolerance and proportions. After what I was exposed to yesterday, I shall try and never say I know what pain is. What I saw was grief, the feeblest form of misery, the gravest experience of near pain. I was at Dharamshila Cancer Hospital.

I cautiously walked into the ICU. My careful steps and observant eyes passed through all those who even the doctors would say, were waiting for their turn. All of them so lonely, so much in pain, with maybe so many questions and unachieved dreams in their lifeless, expressionless eyes.

Meeting naani is never depressing. She is always chirpy and becomes excited seeing visitors. When asked why she was feeling low, she told me that since the others in ICU were critical cancer patients, she too was kept in that silence and solitude and wasn't allowed TV. Her report says that the cancer which had been sucking her from inside for past two years had now infected her bones too. When her hemoglobin touched 3, about four days ago, none of us thought we would ever see her that cheerful…but there she was - smiling in all that pain while living a chemo and drug dependent life.

Naani hated the ICU. When finally moved into the hospital room, she sighed relief. She had hated the last three days as she could not do her morning chores well and was badly missing a hand and body lotion. The only complaint from my 74 year modish grandma: “I hate these wrinkles. I know its age for me, but the wrinkles are suddenly getting worse”. Thank God, I have learned to hold my tears.

Everyone at the hospital had the same story. The disease that pushes one towards his/her end slowly, painfully had infected many. The lonely patients in the room weren’t saying that there was no one for them. There story said that to assist their treatment at the hospital, their family was really slogging hard. Quality treatment in our country is a privilege. A day in the hospital can rob you of your monthly salary and even after spending all that money, what one can guarantee is a little less painful death. But death, for almost all the admitted patients there, was a soon approaching reality. The time, which money was buying for them, was only to ensure that everyone gets ready to face the loss.

Death, just like their pain, is inevitable.

Back again...

2008-04-19T11:38:00.009+05:30

Not that life was devoid of any excitement, it wasn't. But it had also loaded me with countless responsibilities, both at the office and home front. Even the 18 + hours in the day seemed insufficient and everything has been taking toll on me and my time – almost literally.

A flashback and recording of all that I travelled through in the past few weeks-

Holi was good. Masi and family doubled the fun. Awesome masti, and the day ended with a dinner at Murthal. The price for all this - the next day came with shock – my maid refused to come back (never!!!) from her chutti. With Maulik in Sonipat and us at Gurgaon, the days that followed were not so good. A week later, came a nice lunch at Veda (CP) with Mom, Dad and Abby. This was a good bye treat for Abby and a welcome thing for my little angel. It rained, in emotion and otherwise. Maulik was back to Gurgaon. A new maid followed soon. Wish me luck.

Abby left for Seattle on the 10th night. Amidst all the confusion and madness at the airport, all of us managed to get emotional. This time it was Maulik crying and hugging Abby – Mein maamu ke saath US jaaonga. Finally we convinced him that once he has his papers to show to the guys there, he can follow Abby. Mauli agreed to show his Amiown (his school) papers the next day and take off. Bye Abby, hoping you have a rocking time.

The 24th of April was special. It was a hawan at Amiown. We were as thrilled as he was. Not to miss that he thoroughly enjoyed the ceremonies and seemed to like the vibrant and flashy school building. Everything, except Mr. Chauhan’s (the chairperson) long, ill-witted, naïve and advertisement-sounding speech, was good. Even the ladoos were delicious.

Yesterday was Mauli's first day at school. When we went to pick him up, the puppy look on his face when he sobbed and said, "mummy app mujhe chod kar kyoon chale gaye they", is a moment i will never forget. Bless him.

Is God on vacation?

2008-03-04T11:51:00.006+05:30

I shivered at the sight of a canula in this little boy’s wrist. It pains, I know. When the long and merciless needle was poked into it, all I heard was a dim sound of pain. I opened my eyes to see this barely 4 year old smiling and looking at his dad’s pale face: dekha mujhe dard nahi hota. I couldn’t control myself and gave him a pat. Brave boy, I thought. His dad was telling the attendant that the boy has been down with high fever since last 5 days.

The waiting room at the hospital was unusually busy. Looks like the world is down with viral. Even the horrific stories of Sajay ji’s (at office) niece that I hear, are painful. The 7 year old was recently operated for an intestinal infection. The infection, the doctors said, was a result of consistent high fever. Vicky’s son too is not recovering from congestion and fever - the angel has been suffering from the past 9 days.

The little ones for sure do not deserve this. God, it’s time for you to come back from your vacation. Are you listening?

Good News!!!

2008-02-27T17:06:00.006+05:30

Mom would always say that khushi batane se nazar lagti hai, me thinks badti hai. Can't think mom could be wrong, but will still post the happy news from my life.

1. Me gets new car (wagon R, royal gold)
2. Mauli gets through the admission process at Amiown.
3. Abby going to Redmond for Microsoft MVP summit.

The only common point (read as downside) is that everything in the list is all about kharcha, all at the time when the tax men are sharpening their axe. Bachao

Cricket Bazaar

2008-02-22T11:54:00.009+05:30

It is the first time that I am disagreeing with Mr. Rajdeep. When India lost it to Sri Lanka in the run for World Cup, Rajdeep had written about how relieved he was feeling from all that unnecessary razzmatazz around the game. (http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/rajdeepsardesai/1/1387/death-of-a-game.html)

Today, the entire IPL thing looks the same to me. But in http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/rajdeepsardesai/1/50320/crickets-big-bazaar.html, Rajdeep gives in to the cricketers. According to me, when cricketers are seen more on Page 3 and less on the front page for winning matches, I feel the game is losing its spirit. In a country where traffic problem ceases to be a problem on the match days, the commercial tangent to the game looks unfair. Can we forget the comotion the streets of mumbai when the 20-20 team was returning after their landmark victory.

Sir (Rajdeep) himself tells us about this guy who was dropped from the Indian team for a tour of England in 1952 because he tried to earn a living by playing professional cricket for a Lancashire club. Though I completely nod my head with his write up, in the last para, I stop. The finances attached to the game have really changed. I see more Dhoni and Yuvi with my evening Cuppa, than bollywood. Had the IPL kinda thing come in the times when cricketers were under paid, all this wud have made sense, but surely not today. I am sure no one wants to watch the sell purchase game of cricketers. It’s purely a money and fame game…donno how much of a game it shall remain though.

Sorry Sir, but I think the guys are getting much more than their share, in terms of money as well as limelight, and even as contenders for our Ms. Deepika.

Bye Bye Appu Ghar

2008-02-18T09:39:00.004+05:30

Delhi cannot forget Appu Ghar. In the days when malls and multiplexes were only a plan on paper, Appu Ghar was our most dependable source of entertainment. The place wasn't just fun for the kids, Appu has given moments of fun to everyone who has ever been there. From kids having unlimited masti, people hogging on gol gappas and chat papadi, to love birds finding a reason to hold each other on the rides, Appu has seen it all. If your love blossomed with visits to the Appu ghar, you sure wouldn’t have missed getting the name of your sweetheart engraved on the rice grain. My very favorite Appu Ghar rides were ‘my fair lady’ and ‘columbus’, though even the car racing and 3D movie used to be exciting. How much I wish Maulik could have seen the place.

The 24 year old Appu Ghar has to go and no reason that the government is offering for the same, can justify. Even if i try hard, I actually cannot recall the number of times I have been to Appu Ghar. With mom-dad, with friends, with Anuj, the same happiness has resounded with all. With government trying hard to balance population with infrastructure development, Delhi already is losing its shine. With Appu Ghar gone, there will be an ugly patch forever.

Appu Ghar had kept the memories of our APPU alive. Appu, the mascot for the Asian Games, got its name from a baby elephant called Kutti. We will as much miss Appu, as the Appu Ghar. Thank You Appu Ghar for all that fun and galore. We will miss you.

Induction Program

2008-02-02T09:22:00.000+05:30

Almost after spending an year at NIIT, I got a mail that my nomination for induction program was accepted and I could join the immediate next batch. In a company which believes in throwing people in deep waters to teach them swimming, spending an year meant learning the A-Z of everything. Well I seriously thought most of the induction programs were just an eye wash and were there only because they were there. But today I disagree.

When I entered the lift from the 10th floor today evening, there were two liftmen (I thought so from their uniform). Before I could start to think why there was an extra liftman, I heard one of them whispering to the other, “this mam always comes to the 10th floor, but not all the people go to the same floor everyday”. He went on, “a few more days and you will know who climbs to which floor and also the people for whom you should hold the lift if you see them getting down the car. You must also make sure that you hold the lift for all women, just as I did”. The new liftman was constantly nodding, looking a bit hassled with information overload. The instructor again began, “initially all this may look difficult, but majboori teaches you everything. You work hard and make no mistakes, they will soon make you permanent.”

As we were approaching the ground, the instructor concluded, “You have almost learned everything in your first day of training. Tomorrow maybe I will teach you how to respond when the lift gets stuck, you really need to know what to do in such a case.” The new liftman’s eyes brightened here, “I know in that case we can press the phone button on the board and talk to the controls guys”, he said. Little did the boy knew that HT lifts are of the most pracheen version and have no phone button and calling facility. Pat came the trainers reply, “What phone button? Do you see a phone button here. There can never be a phone in the lifts, don’t assume things. Come in time tomorrow and I'll teach you how to ring the alarm bell and what to do further”.

This induction session, I thought, was really purposeful.

CNN IBN Awards

2008-01-31T10:10:00.000+05:30

Sreedharan is CNN IBN Indian of the year. He also won an award in the public service category. The man has done great job by breaking through bureaucratic red tape and making the metro plan come alive on time and within budget. While I have my due respect and appreciation for his contribution in trying to make sadi Dilli better, I really feel the Kousalya who is fighting for the cause of HIV positive patients could have been a better choice for the public service category. Sreedharan has got his share of awards and is on a platform where people know and respect his contribution. But this less known lady from south would have felt motivated if the award was conferred on her.

Now something funny and more interesting about the awards - our very own Shilpa Shetty was one of the nominations for….hold your heart...CNN IBN Indian of the year. Ha ha ha!!! Well was it for her flop musical, the abuses that Miss Goody blessed her with (they indeed led her to the journey of fame), her link up with the UK industrialist, or her hour glass figure…please tell me WHY? But yes, her good looks (read as tummy) does deserve an award.

R K Laxman was give CNN IBN Lifetime Achievement award. The man was inconsolable. The face of common man that Laxman created, never spoke in is cartoons - and neither did Laxman on that day. He would break down every time he was asked to speak. Even Mr A P J Abdul Kalam’s hug did not help. Finally his wife took over and thanked everyone for the award. She also requested the audience to excuse him for being so sensitive(sho shweet). Well yes, the guy did remind me of my dad. I have seen him getting too emotional when being falicitated, so much so that he is hardly able to swallow his tears and speak.

Mr Laxman, congratulations. Sir, we love you.

Champu gets Padamshree...

2008-01-31T10:00:00.000+05:30

I always thought Rajdeep is the best journalist we have in the country. Though he could never be the janta’s favorite like Barkha, he indeed is the best when it ccomes to analysis, presentation, and grilling politicians. The aggressiveness in him coupled with his intelligent sarcasm.…well I can go on and on. There are many people who dislike his aggressiveness, but i really feel all that aggressiveness comes naturally coz of the innate passion in him. I quite like it (read as him).

And now the big news, specially for all his critics at Keane - Rajdeep is the proud recepient of a Padamshree. The honor has also been conferred on Barkha Dutta. Ms. Dutt, though not my personal favorite, has all the courage it takes to be there and do that.

Congratulations Rajdeep. Congratulations Barkha. Thanks for taking journalism to new heights.

The CP that was

2008-01-18T11:32:00.000+05:30

The CP that I see now looks unfamiliar. Bangla Sahib, the inner circle, the subways, the British Council Library are still the things that remind me of my yester years, so may other things are so very different.

At Wimpy’s today, I just could’nt relate to evrythhing. The classy train at the first floor was missing and so was anything and everything to do with style. The awful sundae complemented the shabby interiors. The Wimpy’s which was once a doting place for the Indian Airlines pilots and crew was no better than any sub standard road side dhaba. When the sales guy said that he doe’nt know of any train being ever there, I knew one think for sure – I’ve really turned ancient. Masi, I really missed you today.

The Maid Mania

2008-01-17T10:32:00.000+05:30

Ever since Lalita has left, we really have gone through a bad time….when I say bad, I mean getting up at 5 in the morning to manage the household chores and then reach home to continue doing the same. But the biggest issue (I hate to consider it an issue) was finding a safe haven for Maulik. From sending my bebu to Nani’s house, to finding a day care, to Anuj’s working in night shifts to ensure that he is around in the day… we tried everything. The Maid Agency, who already had extracted the yearly commission from us before Lalita had left, was now taking us for a ride. The maids that he provided thereafter were samples that I can never forget in my life.

Chanchali: On the second day of her arrival, she told me that she wanted a stop gap arrangement for a month as her husband would be taking her away after that. Since she only had to let the month pass, she never was interested in doing anything and ultimately chilled out for a month and left.

Kusha: She didn’t know Hindi. Neither did she knew English. I donno Nepalese. The only Nepalese I understand is taatu (hot) and the only Hindi she knew was haanji. I started experiencing hair fall and we asked her to leave.

Priya: At 16, she was a head turner…and she knew it. She thought we probably needed her to adorn our dull interiors. The household jhaadu-pocha jobs were beyond her. The day we were taking her back to the agency, she refused to sit in the front seat with the driver. Oops!!

Pooja: Smart kid she was…too smart for us to handle. Her sexy low waist jeans and high neck sweaters complemented her bindaas outlook. She was perfect in almost everything she would do, but she would hardly get time…thanks to Ekta Kapoor. Most of the time she was on her bed, popping combiflams, as she was hurt during a hide-n-seek game with Maulik. She would watch the K serials back to back. She threatened the dhobi, the kudewala, the sabjiwala of dire consequences if they do not turn up on time. Her 20 gutka packets a day were a pain, as much as her referring to maulik as jaan. But our patience levels were high by then. So much so that we even tolerated her cigarettes. But the last straw was a complaint by the dhobi that she had been demanding a bottle of desi daaru from him. That was her last day with us. Later, we recovered 7 combiflams from under her mattress.

Aunty Ji: Very scared of the young Nepalese janta, this time we managed to find a 38 year old. Day 1 of her services she told me that her age would not permit her for doing laundry. Day 2 she declared that she cannot clean bathrooms because she has never done the same. Dressed up with sophistication in a pinned up sari, she was a good change. While I was washing precisely 54 clothes, she was nicely sitting with Maulik and teaching mannerism…chalo at least Maulik has a decent company, I thought. But Mauli dear wasn’t ready for all that seriousness in life. Day 3, she complaint about Mauli’s naughtiness!!! It took me 2 seconds to say bye bye.

An FIR against the agent and then search and research for the new options. Now we finally have Rupa with us. A chatter box that she is, this bong is giving Maulik the perfect company. Is she here to stay….only time will tell.

Hits and Pits 2007

2008-01-15T08:52:00.000+05:30

The last three months of 2007 saw me really busy, so damn busy that even my blog felt neglected. I promise to give it more time this year.

There was a lot of action in the year we just said goodbye to. Here is my list of hits and pits for the year that was...well great!! (the list of pits is far too small)

HITS
Happier me
Getting closer to my dream
Rediscovering Anuj
Maulik’s birthday party
Papa at Satyakiran, Abby at Microsoft, Anuj at Genpact, Me at HT
Trip to Bodhisatva with Keane friends and to Haridwar with papa-beta
Guddu and Sakshi’s shaadi
Makeover of the Sonipat house
Friends at Keane and my farewell lunch at Red Hot Café
First Diwali in Gurgaon
The Jaipur Trip
Attending Ramdevji’s camp + ayurvedic sessions during a 15 day break at Sonipat
Losing a few kilos
Welcoming 2008 at Odyssey with Maulik!!! (my first ever visit to a disc)

PITS
Lalit bhaiya's demise
Lalita’s leaving us (God bless you)
Trial run with 5 maids
Gaining a few kilos
Life getting busier

Me has reached HT Media

2008-01-14T12:55:00.000+05:30

Mom dad always used to say that it is very important to dream big. Hard work and commitment, they would say, can really take you high. It indeed worked for me. I am on the 10th floor (thats high) of HT House. My dream has come true from the rear side (the front door enters Hindustan Times, the newspaper office, while the rear door takes me to HT Internet Initiative).

I am feeling good. In the hustle bustle of CP, nostalgia is taking over. The view from my window is …can I say wow. Colorful people, commotion, traffic, high risers – in the newness of Gurgaon I missed all this. In Gurgaon everyone looked rich and everything is so hep...i somehow missed real life and action. Here everything is so real - the struggle, the mad rush, the delhi…. Hey Delhi, i am here.

Welcome to the Twenty20 World Champions

2007-09-26T12:01:00.000+05:30

Put your hands together to welcome the Twenty20 World Champions as the heroes land on the Indian soil. Not a sports freak though, an Indo-Pak match does gives me this new avtaar. To me its a celebration, not just for winning the Cup, but for defeating Pakistan. Kudos to the team!!!

Happy Birthday Krishna

2007-09-05T11:21:00.000+05:30

I seriously miss the festivity and fun. In the mall capital of India, things are dull and dry. The spirit of Janmashtami, which commenced from the declaration of a chutti, didn’t find anything else to keep it high. The temple in my neighborhood was crowded, but there was no decoration. The market wore a deserted look as more than half of it was closed.

In my bachpan it used to fun visiting all the temples around and doing that little jhoola thing to krishan ji’s cradle. In the night it was sizzling jalebi’s and at times, eating out on chaat-papadi stuff. All of it is lost. I really wanted Maulik to experience that fun, but kinda failed. In my jaunt to the temple and the market, I could find nothing to excite me. The only attractive thing we came across was a highly creative rangoli (see picture below) that we saw at a doorstep.

With Anuj at work, finally we decided to do something to get our quota of excitement (look at the pictures of Maulik dressed as Krishna) and finally experienced something that fits my simple definition of fun. Happy Janmashtami.

The Sonipat Trip

2007-08-31T10:06:00.000+05:30

The ping pong (http://baxishweta.blogspot.com/2007/08/kudos-to-you-sagarika.html) between my two avid readers has instigated me to write. Write again. Return from this long long break. Guys I am back. Wasn’t in a hidey-hole. I was visiting my parents at Sonipat....and experiencing ultimate prasannata. Mauli had a gala time with nana nani and enjoyed their time and attention. The evening ghoomi ghoomi sessions (outings) were as much a delight to him, as they were to his mom. I love to stay rooted, wish i was still at Sonipat, with Mauli getting his share of pampering from nana nani, and me having someone to fall back on - when the going gets touch.

Feels good on the chaarpai - with nani at kakroi village

Sunday morning was a religious reunion. All in the family performed a hawan together...afterall there was motivation for the same - N number of gifts that we received. Thanks mom dad for everything, especially the lovely Topaz. Afternoon too was packed with fun. The IMA (Indian Medical Association) get-together in a guest house in the midst of kakroi village was ultimate. Buffaloes, a small canal in the vicinity, little huts with khaats to rest on, golagappas, chat papadi, pakodas, and ghewar to savor, men applying mehandi, swings suspended from the trees….oh God I loved it.

Monday was a day spend on the streets - freaked out in the local market (umm the pleasures of the small town market, the bante waali nimbu lemon, the roadside khaana). Small town markets still wear that festive spirit for local festivals. The market was abuzz with colorful gifts and at the end of the day, my wallet was lighter by a kilo.

On Tuesday, the journey to my nani’s place in Indrapuram was fun indeed. It was Rakhi, and as always, we were witnessing (and having fun at the expense of) all the behane with all the jhatak matak, dressed up for the occasion. At Indrapuran it was a happy, but emotional reunion...meeting up with Nani…God cure her of all the pain.

Life cannot be all fun. Mauli had an upset stomach and the evening went down potty cleaning. Poor baby. Wednesday morning saw me back at work after the Taxi wala drove me to office from Patparganj in a record 3 hours only to be able to charge me for that long ride along munirka, vasant kunj, vasant vihar, mahipalpur (it looked like a delhi darshan trip). While quietly speeding and missing the Chirag delhi and Essex farm turn for Gurgaon and taking we way too ahead, little did he realize that it will not be an easy game with me. It pays to stay informed and hold on to your assertiveness (aggressiveness). After a verbal bashing from me, the bechara driver had no words to argue after I handed him an amount much lesser than the exorbitant amount he asked for, with a loud warning “dobaara kisi lady ko aise pagal banana ki koshish mat karna”. Alls well that ends well.

The mid week chutti

2007-08-16T11:50:00.001+05:30

Life may not give you enough reasons to celebrate…you need to create some. Yesterday was like a celebration. The entire evening was spent in trying to manage a luxury dinner for Anuj on the eve of his birthday. The little cake, the gravy laden subzis… an attempt in which even Maulik actively participated. Dressed in saffron, green, and white (my little tiranaga) he knew it will be papa’s birthday when he returns from work at 1 in the night. Cake cutting, followed by a nice dinner (TV lit dinner that is) was just the perfect ending to the day. Happy Birthday Anuj.

I love India

2007-08-14T10:50:00.000+05:30

Freedom

2007-08-14T09:17:00.001+05:30

Freedom to me is a state of mind. The faith in the world around and being able to survive the way I am, without any fear in mind and body. Freedom is the confidence that I will get what I deserve. It is the trust that I can walk around on the streets in the middle of the night without attracting any stares and remarks. It is the feeling that I will get any and every support from the government machinery, something that I so rightly deserve. Freedom is a thought that I care less about what people expect me to do, I do what is right. I stand to take the first step and can see people leading. Freedom is my tool to say No, No to everyone who is trying to violate my right as an Indian. Something that comes from TOI today: you are not in a Traffic Jam, you are the Traffic Jam. So as feeling, experiencing, and enjoying freedom is a way of life, Freedom should be an initiative to stand and make a move in the right direction…an endeavor to do the right thing and a struggle to make others do the same.

Chak De India II

2007-08-12T12:07:00.000+05:30

My new ringtone is Chak De India. Just the right starter for the Independence day meal of patriotism that we will soon have. As the country gets ready to celebrate its 60th birthday, it is a great feeling to look back and feel proud for the journey that India has traveled on the path to development. The media, for a change, is getting creative as the three Bs (Me: the media critic) are taking a backstage. From discussing about the technological breakthroughs to economic liberalization to social acceptance of things that were considered ‘western’…there are many good programs and analysis to watch out for. An NDTV poll had interesting answers for the most popular song: the final two options were Ae mere watan ke logon and Kajra re!!!

While one channel talked about the biggest incidents of shame in the history of India another channel discussed the biggest shame of the modern times. Hunger and Bribery were indisputably on the top. The Citizen X story of IBN was good – just the right time to illustrate the extent of corruption in our country and show how vulnerable the country is, to any anti-social activity. For a person who does not exist, the team was able to secure a mark sheet, pan card, deriving license and a passport…all at a cost of 30 something thousand.

The weekend is fun. Chak De India and a lot of TV watching….patriotism is on a high, just as much as the urge of doing good and being good…only to last a few days.

Chak De India I

2007-08-12T12:02:00.001+05:30

SRK is best - only when he forgets he is SRK. The last time it was in Swades and this time its for Chak De India. A good movie, engrossing, entertaining, its strength in its perfect pace and editing, not too much of SRK and his dialogues. The story (there hardly is any story) is said in a perfectly tight and no-nonsense way.

The underlying points that were beautifully depicted: women power can rule...only the first step is difficult, media can make and break, politics and bureaucracy is killing sports in the country, and the biggest lesson Stand United.

Aaj Tak was so real. The movie has an Aaj Tak reporter who accuses SRK of match fixing only because he gets irritated on his insane, Aaj Tak like questions. This is so real….just don’t understand why Aaj Tak wanted to make fool of itself in the movie.

An enjoyable flick…the winning goal for India did make the multiplex crowd clap in unison. The little thing to say…we are Indians, and we haven’t forgotten this.

Kudos to you Sagarika

2007-08-10T12:23:00.000+05:30

I have never liked Sagarika Ghosh too much. Only two reasons why I still watch Face the Nation: her aggressiveness and the fact that she happens to be Rajdeep’s wife. The same reason inspired me to read her book Blind Faith....but that really did not go well. Though I enjoyed the book and the style, I totally disliked the depiction of certain characters and the plot. But there are some very fine pages of writing. But every time I see this woman… (Jealousy thy name is..me!!)

Sagarika impressed me yesterday in Face the Nation. In a debate on whether the critics of Islam are victimized by their own community, the lady grilled Owaisi, the MLA belonging to Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen party, for physically attacking Taslima Nasreem during a press conference. Nafisa Ali too was on air, criticizing this confused party leader and telling him that Muslim community is defamed because of leaders like him. Owaisi was literally baffled when Sagarika hit him by saying that if he thinks the attack on Tasleema is justified, what makes him say or feel that the attack on Barbari Masjid was not the right thing. (I think the channel later felt it was too blunt and slap-on-the-face thing to say - that part of the discussion is missing in the online transcript). Rightly said Sagarika, if it is justified for religious fanatics to take the mob way, the Barabri Masjid attack can also be termed as one in the interest of the Hindu religion. The lady seriously lost her calm when the MLA repeatedly kept saying that he did try to attack the novelist but that was not physical violence. She also intelligently brought in the fact about Mr. M F Hussain, who in my opinion is almost done with his creativity and trying out with doing funny things - nude paintings and irritating movies – to attract attention. For more on this debate, do check out http://www.ibnlive.com/news/target-taslima-no-room-for-critics-in-islam/46563-3-p0.html.

Ironically, some of these community leaders were up in arms last week to protect the suspected terrorist Mr. Haneef, the same set of people today want to physically hurt a woman, who has just expressed herself in writing. Due respect to the Muslim populace of our country, these freaks are just defaming the beautiful religion of Islam.

Me: the media critic

2007-08-01T11:06:00.000+05:30

Every second day I swear to myself that I will no more fall prey to these 24/7 channels. But as darkness envelops my house, the urge takes over my determination and my hands grab the remote control. The end result: I go irritated, at times frustrated...and then the remorse of being not into the world of journalism takes over.

This Monday it was the Haneef’s homecoming that did it for me. The **** was let go by the Australian police, not because they thought that he was innocent man, but because they could not manage sufficient proof to keep him back for long. But the pade likhe illiterate Indians need no reasoning to get melodramatic (did I hear -look who’s talking). The janta was welcoming him at the airport, garlanding him, and congratulating him and the to-be-proved terrorist stood there looking at the foolish people, and maybe in his mind, laughing at them. Media, as always, was going crazy…he, his wife, his mom, his dhobi…everyone was a star. His cousin who brought him back is stealing more limelight than SRK these days. To top it all, the seemingly wela CM of the state visited him and even offered him a job - terror management that should be. Amazingly stupid. Finally yesterday the Australian police disclosed the chat script between Haneef and his cousin Shoaib. The transcript reads that Shoaib told Haneef that nothing had been “found about him” and advised him to tell his employer that he was leaving to see his new-born daughter and disclose nothing else. He also told Haneef not to delay his departure or lend his phone to anyone in Australia.

For Haneef it was a transformation from a terrorist (oh I must say suspected) to a Hero…but for someone else it has just been the opposite. As Sanjay Dutt moved to jail to serve his sentence, IBN7 flashed an interesting Breaking News: jail mein nahi milega tandoori chicken. I respect the judgment but common yaar, he is the same person, media went gaga over after Munnabhai’s success. Today, for the heck of a story, they are making things embarrassing for him and his family. BTW, the story ended with the reporter telling us that he finally ate Moong daal and 3 chapatis…as if.

In the Ramnath Goenka Debate, some of the channel bosses actually said that since they want TRPs and business, masala kinda stories are so much needed. The verdict was unequivocal: serve the janta what they want.

Wait till the five Ws and one H of journalism changes to three Bs and a big H. The B will sure stand for Bhoot, Baba, and Balaatkar.

The Baby Show: Part 2

2007-07-30T16:24:00.000+05:30

Mauli has won two prizes at Mother's pride: one as we all know is for the Sunniest Smile, the other one is for Chubby Cheeks. We realized it only when we visited their school to recieve the long pending gift. One of the two (same same) bicycles that Mauli received is already on its way to the forgotten toy tub because it is creaking under Maulik's weight...he has been riding the poor 1.5 feet thing inspite of its lean structure. The 2 small batteries find no use as he goes shooo shoo with it, using his little feet to steer it. He is having a good time...and moms watching.

What a Shame

2007-07-24T16:01:00.000+05:30

With Gym taking a backstage, my evenings are largely on the mercy of the dozen news channels. That’s a disadvantage if you have not developed a taste (mis-taste) for the saas bahu serials. But the last few days of association with the TV has only been a source of agony and desperation. Picture this from yesterday:

Zee News: Bus ran over a cyclist in west Delhi.

Total TV: Two guys in a car almost hit a pedestrian and later whipped on his legs with a wooden log only to hide their shame.

IBN7: A bunch of motorists were over speeding and troubling others on the road near Connaught Place. While policemen decided to be silent onlookers, the media persons who tried to capture the hooligans on camera were beaten up.

CNN IBN: A 10-year old was run over by eve teasers and is undergoing treatment in a Mumbai hospital. The little girl had a near death experience under the wheels of a jeep driven by an eve teaser.
http://www.ibnlive.com/videos/45505/vox-populi-safe-mumbai-an-urban-myth--blog.html

The evening became rather sad after I saw this little girl. The pretty angel was holding her dad’s hand, crying in pain. Someone with even the heart of an iron would have melted to see that, for someone who has a little daughter...i am sure would have had been in shivers. And then the thought: afterall the people who have done this are also human beings, human beings without a heart(?)...born to filthy rich parents, devoid of all the good teachings, sanskaars in life. The accused is a 22 year old boy…don’t know much about him but I wonder what made this guy grow up to become a monster…and coming to think that people like these will be the future of our planet. I feel like wrapping my kiddo in a cotton roll and keeping him in where nothing, no evil, no monster like people, nothing touches him. But it’s only a matter of time and he will need exposure to the big bad (rightly called so) world. I am scared…I really am.

Victory!!!

2007-07-19T10:47:00.000+05:30

It’s become a win announcement page now. This time its Rajdeep Sardesai. Rajdeep, (the man needs no introduction), has been adjudged the Journalist of the Year (Ramnath Goenka Excellence in Journalism awards) and also been named the Newsmaker of the Year (News Television Awards for excellence in TV journalism).

http://www.ibnlive.com/news/cnnibn-journos-win-4-ramnath-goenka-awards/45033-3.html
http://www.ibnlive.com/news/cnnibn-gets-best-english-news-channel-award/45188-3.html

Congratulations Rajdeep...we(I!!!) love you.

Mauli wins too

2007-07-09T12:33:00.000+05:30

Taj wasn’t the only prizewinner this Sunday…the day gave us another win. Maulik was awarded the baby with the Sunniest Smile at the Mothers Pride Baby Show. It was a dull and dry event but Mauli had all the fun (like momma like son). When showed the picture of a buffalo, he insisted that it was a cow and failed to agree even as the teacher kept repeating. Everyone in the room burst out laughing when he started bow-wow when shown the picture of a dog. Congratulations my little angel.

Gosh..its a girl

2007-07-09T11:38:00.000+05:30

Written on 6th July

Last week the incredible headlines that zapped me and flashed continuously on the 24/7 hindi news channels - “kalyug ki maa / kaatil maa”, the context – a mother in a Andhra Pradesh village had packed and chucked her 2 day old girl in a trunk. The baby was rescued and saved by a Samaritan.

Picture this: My sister in law went for a sex determination check and then got an abortion done as the report read that she was carrying a girl child.

Scene 2: The kids (a 3 year old daughter and a 6 month old son) of my neighbor on the first floor shout papa papa on the top of their voice seeing their dad’s car approaching. As the dad gets down from the car, he rushes to take the son in his arms and kisses him, while the girl stands there shouting papa mujhe bhi, mujhe bhi, to which the dad replies beta papa office se thak kar aaye hain.

I frankly do not see an inch of difference in the three scenes. The poor lady had just wanted to save her daughter from the poverty inflicted ordeal that she had to go through. In the second case, for sure bhabhi did want to save herself from the ire of the in-laws after giving birth to a second daughter. The third case…well to the guy, loving his son more than the daughter comes naturally…he has seen his parents doting him ever since he has been blessed with the son.

The point that I am trying to make with my jumbled words and confused thoughts - its in us, in the system, in the country….name it poverty, call it female feticide, or label it the girl boy divide…even the mall capital of the country suffers from it…so donno if even education is helping.

Congratulations India...Taj has made it!!

2007-07-08T00:37:00.000+05:30

More on http://www.ibnlive.com/news/taj-mahal-picked-as-a-new-world-wonder/44304-3.html

I'm back

2007-07-02T11:34:00.000+05:30

From one post a week to this post after almost a month….life is getting busier, or can I say I am turning into a lazy bum. No gym, no walks, not even visits to the park…it’s me searching for the pillow...to sleep and sleep.

The hot month of June brought in little good things…Anuj’s little achievement at work and my first ever camping tour (with Maulik!!!). Ever since I have returned, my bones crack at the mere mention of walking, my head constantly needs a pillow support, my tummy wants to save the churning job and am living on gheeya and torayi.

But all in all, the month that heard everyone talking about global warming and Indians measuring it with the disappearing lingam at Amarnath, was generous to me.

On the 22nd of June, the GSE team at office launched for a trip to Camp Bodhisatva, a camping site near Rajgarh in Himachal. I was the most excited traveller as Maulik and Mansha (Poonam’s daughter who played maulik’s counterpart) too were a part of this adventure trip. The ride from Gurgaon office to Bodhisatva was cool in that super–deluxe bus with amazing features: the headlights go off when the AC is switched on, the AC goes off if the horn and indicator are put to use, only the fans on the left are functional and that too when the AC and the headlights are switched off. Ab jaan hai to jahaan hai…we decided to put off the AC and have the headlights on. The dinner break at Sukhdev ka dhaba at Murthal was yum. Me-mauli had a sleepless night watching everyone except Amandeep (the Punjab ka puttar to the core) retiring in the push back seats. The morning tea near Solan was our first brush with mountains and I was already humming “yeh hasin waadiyaan, ye khula aasman…”

Bodhisatva was 10 tents, strategically located to enjoy the neighborhood of mountains, fruit laden trees, birds, a vivacious stream….what else could one ask for…my lungs were breathing healthy. As me and Poonam shared the tent, Maulik and Mansha started to discover friendship. The Saturday morning at the camp, after a scrumptious breakfast looked just perfect to retire to the bed….but Rohit (our instructor at the camp…a pleasing, decent guy who really took good care of us) had different plans for us. Weighing a little less than 100 kilos, I was rope walking, crossing the bridge…doing things that I really thought I was not capable of. Thanks to the team, especially Harsha, Nilesh, Neha, Supriya, and Gaurav for giving me the much needed break from Maulik….guys you were great help. Thanks. And how can I not thank Rohit for bearing the weight of Maulik and his mom (now that deserves a weighty thanks.... Thank you Rohit).

Day 1 ended with music and masti around the bonfire and finger licking snacks and dinner. While the enthusiasts went for a night trek, me and mauli had a nice time playing around, not realizing what the night had conspired for us. Just when we were chatting to fun in our neighbors’ tent, an SOS from Poonam came in as a surprise…what followed was a desperate attempt by many of us to save her. In the near death experience for her, she tested our muscle to see her going through all that agony and pain…poor baby. She sure should thank me for saving her life with the proper proper well in time medication….I am waiting.

We went off to sleep in the cozy little tents, bundled in blankets while the nocturnal birds and insects did the lullaby for us...it sure was a jungle mein mungle feeling.

(Day 2 in the next post)

Little Monster

2007-06-06T11:51:00.000+05:30

Life is good running in a circle: office-gym-home-eat-sleep-morning chores-office. The weekend too is running the same cycle minus the office and the gym. The little spare time from this cycle is spent in the craziness of momhood – me and maulik. The super tiring running around in the park, the chupan-chupayi in the rooms, the chase in the garden, the fights (u gotta see the nail marks on my face to believe this), the coochie-coochie sessions (where we hug each other), and all the masti…the only saving grace in the monotony of life.

Maulik’s naughtiness is increasing by the day and it’s becoming harder for us to cope up….he runs, talks, screams endlessly…at times I want to actually hide myself in the loo to take a break from the hullabaloo. Even at 12 in the night his energy level can advertise for Red Bull, and it is an effort (read as struggle) to put him to sleep every night. God I need some rest.

Movies on the weekend

2007-05-21T10:22:00.000+05:30

I really can’t help talking about the three movies that I watched this weekend.

Mitr: My friend was terrific, performances so so real. A desi concept in a firang setting, the movie talks about how distance roots itself in the life of an otherwise happy and loving couple. The movie skillfully depicts the loneliness of this elegant home maker, who resorts to talking to her plants and chatting to a no-name over the internet, in whom she confides everything from her life. The movie ends with the interesting revelation that the no-name is none other than her husband. A good family bonding movie….gets a little too sensitive in the middle when their young daughter moves out to live with a firang. A not to miss variety.

My Saturday pick was Bheja Fry…and as the name suggests, it did fry our bheja. A nonsense comedy with no purpose, but good, borrowed script (how do I know this..Masand told me)…and some dialogues did leave me tickled. Against what i expected, Ranvir disappoints with his over acting and Vinay Pathak takes the cake. Watch at your own risk…but never on a bad day…you might end up breaking your screen.

The movie that took me to the theatre was Life in a Metro. As much as Konkana and Irfaan added the enjoyable moments to the movie, so did Shilpa’s stunning persona and performance, and Kangana’s changed (and bearable) look. As the name suggest, the movie was an insight into the status of relationships in a metro and it did appear so close to life. The cinematography was very very beautiful, especially when they have treated the red light as a fixed point in the busy street, shifting the view from night to day...you have to see it to believe it. The dialogues had a punch and some of them will sure haunt my memory for days.

The music was so apt, so awesome and the idea of keeping the band as a narrative was novel….the characters looked real, the treatment so strong and so deserving, Shilpa was just looking so plain striking and did complete justice to her role. Everything looked so enjoyable that even the intolerable scenes with Dharmendra and the horse chase in the end can be easily forgiven.

A mature movie…but a truly bollywoodish end, where everyone chooses the right (read as ethical and moral) path. The director must have experimented here….the audience was prepared for a more realistic, but (so called) morally incorrect end. But truly a genuine and neat effort. Must watch.

The perfect balance

2007-05-21T10:20:00.000+05:30

Written on 19th May.

I saw them on the see-saw. They looked married for a couple of years. As the see-saw went up and down, I saw them smiling and trying to maintain a balance….maintain equal thrust on both sides. Yes it was equal on both sides...the smiles, the spark in their eyes, the naughtiness, the giggles….and the amazing fun. And there I was, sitting on a distant swing, hugging loneliness and the breeze, waiting for Anuj to return from the engagements of life. Looked like the weather was showering all generosity on them…the breeze, the lightening, the thin drizzle. Looked like it was hating me alone….so was I.

2007-05-02T19:14:00.000+05:30

The pleasant memories of our lovely trip are diminishing in the day to day hassles and engagements of LIFE....so time to pen them down. I wish the trip had been longer, but we’ll try to take these breaks frequently…this one really worked as a stress buster for me plus fulfilled the much needed need for the family to be together.

Day 1 at Haridwar was relaxing . On day 2, after a dip in the chilling waters, we were all set for more escapades. A firangi breakfast: bread, butter, and coffee in our room was planned so as to compensate for the lavish eating on the previous day. Then began our journey to Mansa Devi by the ropeway - much more thrilling than we had imagined. Mauli was so very excited about this ‘flying car’ and hated to get down when we reached our destination. Ganga started looking distant as our trolley car started to climb higher. Long queues lead us to the temple; a small structure which appeared to be situated on the mountain peak. A scenic splendor, captivating enough to make us forget the sufferings from the sweltering sun.

Mansa Devi from the trolley, Boating at Rishikesh

After Polio drops for Mauli we got into a tourist bus which made its way through the mountains and took us to another ropeway…this time to go to Chandi Devi Mandir. The place was green (Rich plantation, it was actually a forest scene created with schemed plants and animal statuette). It was a good time to put our digicam (borrowed from Ashi) to use and then began our trolley ride to the temple, located much higher than the previous one. This time it wasn’t the river running distant, but the bright sun burned mountain rocks…honestly speaking, I was getting shivers. Mauli was at his jolly best, singing Doorie at the top of his voice….even the Gods would have heard that one. The trolley lead us to this again small but enchanting temple where a bunch of monkeys escorted us for the pooja.

Chowk that leads to Laxman Jhoola, Bye bye haridwar

We jumped of the bus during our return journey and took an auto for Rishikesh. Landed at the auto stand in Rishikesh and had a scrumptious meal at some Rimpy’s restaurant. A small ride from there took us to Laxman Jhoola, which actually came as a disappointment. The so-called pedestrian bridge, which holds such a historical significance, was crammed with ongoing two wheelers. The immediate area was stinking and to walk down to the near shore for a boat ride was quite a challenge. The close to three minutes in the boat were wholesome fun, but this was the only activity that Mauli didn’t approve off. As we landed on the shore, a hand tapped on Anuj’s shoulder, “sir time kya hua hai”. As Anuj replied, the man’s wife smiled at me and I did just the same. As we started on the steep road to the auto/bus stand, the lady returned and smiled at me, my smile widened now as I stepped forward and hugged the girl….she was Sunrita, a friend from my earlier days at NIIT. We had last met in 2004 and the three years had really changed (read as bloated) both of us. Our return journey to Haridwar was more fun as the couple offered to drop us on their way back to Delhi. We exchanged pleasantries and bid good bye at Haridwar. Rushed back to the asharam to get some rest and change for Mauli.

Dinner for me was delicious faluda kulfi. Anuj and Maulik did enjoy poori-chole and halwa and then we quickly retired to bed to be able to catch the 6.00 clock train the next morning for Delhi. Looking outside the train window, humming, "hanste hanste, kat jayen raste, zindagi yoon hi chalti rahe...".

Our Holy Dip

2007-04-25T20:23:00.000+05:30

Our two day trip to Haridwar-Rishikesh (21st – 22nd) was energy and fun. Wish I could borrow the keyboard from hill goat and script a travelogue. Never mind, I’ll give it a shot.

The Shatabadi at 6.55 in the morning was too hard to catch after Mauli’s late night birthday bash….but we managed. Thanks to mom-dad for literally packing us up and throwing us at the station, dot on time. For Mauli, the train compartment was a room that had suddenly started to move. The journey started well, we were excited and on a high from the previous day…the enthusiasm level was so high that even the horrible cutlets for breakfast didn’t taste bad.

As we reached Haridwar, a 10 minute ride from the station to Khukhrain Bhawan (don’t ask me the reason for this name) was inviting amidst the welcoming hustle bustle in the market. The rooms had been already booked for us and we weren’t supposed to pay a penny (sounds good na?). As we were to move in to our allotted room, the manager demanded advance rent. Anuj couldn’t refuse and shyly slipped the money into the hands of this snow-haired gentleman.

At haridwar market, floating jot near the ghaat, duo at Chandi devi mandir, Mauli enjoying his meal

Our free booking was also entitled to meals at subsidized rates, but when we asked for food, we were refused. A frantic call back home gave me the realization that we were in a wrong place. Now who in the world could think there could be two ashrams with the same funny name? But there were.

After a failed argument with the snow-haired gentleman we persuaded each other saying how lucky we were to be in an ashram which is right across the ghaat: the har ki paudi. Only later we started to realize that this was for real. After an invigorating dip in the Ganges and a tummy-full puri-chola meal near the ghaat (I hope my gym instructor misses this one), we drowned…in the bed. Got up to catch on the evening aarti: more than a thousand devotees offering their prayers with the traditional om jai jagdish aarti, divinity and serenity, picturesque and soulful. Post aarti we did float our jot (a small leaf boat filled with flowers and a lamp to be lit) in the Ganges and offered prayers for our ancestors and future generations (hmm…romantic).

A evening well spend with me, Ana, and Mauli sitting on the ghaat left lonely post aarti, well lit between the darkness of the approaching night, with Gods from the temples smiling at us. A dinner of chulhe ki daal, tandoor ki roti, and pyaaz and we gave in to the insistence of our bed to consume us. Day 1 was hectic day.

For our adventures on day two, wait for the next post. (For those who read hill goat will know where this comes from)

Me interviewed!!!

2007-04-25T10:12:00.000+05:30

Me featured in this month's issue of the MITWA (Mentors, Indexers, Technical Writers & Associates) newsletter. Check the embedded newsletter:

Thanks Abby for uploading the PDF and sending me the code.

You can directly access the newsletter at: http://static.scribd.com/docs/2ymp7dtyk6ebd.pdf

Happy Birthday Maulik

2007-04-20T07:51:00.000+05:30

Video: Maulik... photo essay

Happy birthday Maulik...you are an angel to us.

Water…but why?

2007-04-13T09:36:00.001+05:30

Saw Deepa Mehta’s Water last night. Deepa is incredible in her work. The direction, the screenplay, the background scores, music, performances…everything was impeccable. But why?

I am not questioning Deepa, the director, but I sure want to question Deepa, the story teller. A story, so sad, so painful, so hurting: so intense that even your popcorn becomes soggy with tears. I agree with her excellence in conceiving and delivering her ideas, but I fail to understand why we want to show a dark page of the old age Indian society to the world. I mean why?

Every movie has to have intent: to entertain, to educate, to inform, or at least show that evil loses to good. But there has to be a purpose. Even Fire brought the same-sex relations to picture and kind of created a debate in the society. There were discussions, exchange of thoughts…and so there was a purpose well established and to an extent, achieved. But what about Water?

The movie set in India during the 1930s, tells the story of impoverished child widows, abandoned by their families and forced into prostitution. We all know about it and we all know that the social status of widows, if not too good, is at least better than what it was in the pre independence days. So why just portray the harsh hitting chapter of history and show it to the world?

Now I am no way trying to say that all that controversy around the movie was right. I feel that Deepa enjoys every right to go with her creation. But is it a film. Not by Wikipedia standards which says that Film is considered to be an important art form, a source of popular entertainment, and a powerful method for educating-or indoctrinating citizens. It cannot even be termed Alternative cinema as that is described as films and videos that provide an alternative to commercial media or to conventional topics and forms, dealing with subjects, points-of-view and formal elements not found in the mainstream. Water does not qualify any of these definitions. People who enjoy only commercial cinema would sure jump of the chairs and die.

Water is just about reading a sad, very sad page from history with absolute perfection. I admire that perfection, but why read something that just leaves you agonized. Why?

So long

2007-04-10T20:09:00.000+05:30

Hey days are really flying by, and this hated busy-ness…well I don’t really hate it...do I? But ya, last week just flew past. Work at office is real good these days and visit to the park with Mauli takes away the evening. Three days at the hospital (well no serious reasons, just found the doc too cute) wasn’t too good a reason to waste the weekend on. But it has sure generated a healthier me…instilling in a positive feel about this newly found love in life…The GYM (hey, close that mouth). My visit to the gym every evening is sure making me feel good (read as lighter) - courtesy the poor instructor whose machines must be creaking by the end of the month. But the guy sure motivates me and has promised me ‘perfect ten’. Amen

Movie update: too many on the list. 300 (i did'nt enjoy it), Red (DO NOT WATCH IT), Time Machine (super cool fiction), and Ghost rider (so-called horror which left even mauli laughing).

It’s been a busy week…

2007-03-31T19:22:00.000+05:30

Last Tuesday saw us at PVR Sahara for Namaste London - typically Bollywoodish, but enjoyable. All fun coupled with a little crankiness from Maulik, he stood by his decision against being in the movie hall. How we managed...well don’t ask me that.

Namaste London was good…for the UK factor in it, for Katrina (who looks so apt as the British-Indian mix), for Akshaya (who rightly deserved all the whistles and applause), for the pleasant music (trust me, I otherwise belong to the ‘we hate Reshammiya club’), and for the choreography (can't ignore Akshaya’s yummazing style in ‘chakna chakna’….the man looks sexy) . While hubby dear was all smiles throughout, the crowd too was euphoric.

My good notes from the movie - Teri Yaad by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan (thanks to Himesh for not trying this one himself) and "ishq di mere mitra pehchaan ki, mit jaave jad yaara jid apnaan di" (by...obviously the dialogue writer).

Check out guys….a promising package.

Welcome the Spring

2007-03-24T19:17:00.000+05:30

Cool breeze in the evening and an early sun in the morning, longish days and plants at their best.

Time of growth and renewal, its spring again, a season which brings in cheerfulness and freshness. Enjoy the breeze guys and and let life bloom the nature way….hey check out this shot from my garden...looks awesome.

Another reason to cherish: its mom’s birthday today. Happy birthday to the woman of perfection…the only imperfect thing that she owns is….ME!!

Happy Navrataras..no chicks, no chicken

2007-03-19T12:29:00.000+05:30

New paint on the walls, new plants in my garden, and reality in its new avatar…life rocks.

A lovely weekend: laid back, fun, a couple of good movies (the good ones were final destination 3 and mine, yours, and ours), frequent visits to the children park (mauli at his best with the neighborhood babes), experimental cooking (which turned out to be good!!!) and….ab aur kya.

Mauli with the babes

There are days in life, good and bad. And when you are going through those, that are bad, it is important to hold on...hold on to what you want, hold on to your dreams….and happiness will sure come your way.

It's neither easy to aspire, nor is it to inspire. After Abby was able to inspire me to blog, i aspired to make some follow...everyon should have the right to expression and happiness. So when Nikhil (a workplace friend) started his blog (its all about him, singing...highly recommended material), I saw that fire spreading. Ashi and Ipsita have already landed here. Long live the power to express and the media to communicate.

Hey, some of the entries at the blog mela at Toe Knee Unplugged were awesome, just in case.

Copy Cat

2007-03-15T15:19:00.000+05:30

See i always told you media lacks creativity...check out this add in HT today....i mean look at this, they are stealing ideas from my blog(check my previous post). Ch Ch!!

Its back...

2007-03-13T10:03:00.000+05:30

A word about Nirula’s, and there I go for a trip down the memory lane. In one of my earlier posts (2/7/07) I do have written about it being one of my favorite hangouts during college. Now what new?

Nirula’s has come up with its newly designed flagship outlet at Connaught Place after its acquisition by…I donno who. The new outlet promises an Indian contemporary look yet stays international (remember the ice cream gulabo). Everything...just everything about this place called Nirula’s rubs in nostalgia.

Where did I meet my hubby the first time?
Where did he propose to me?

Where did we spend all that time together that translated into love?

Where was our first lunch after marriage?
Where was our first dinner after moving in to Gurgaon?

Well as the answer to all the questions reads Nirula’s, need not say that it is still special to me and very special to my memories. From a person who lives to smile with memories and dreams...some places are too good to forget.

Welcome back Nirula’s.

Holi ke din...

2007-03-12T13:55:00.000+05:30

A little too late to write about Holi, but since the memories are fresh, so is the thought. So here I go.

Holi was fun: me, maulik, anuj...we had the best time ever. It was good to see that Maulik enjoyed playing holi as frivolously as I do (unlike his dad who is the ‘touch-me-not’ variety). We were the worst painted and are pink on the hands even today. But I love the color, especially if it paints my heart too with contentment….and so it did.

Check out mauli with dad (first pic) and mauli with nana, nani, and me (the ugliest one).

We had the best possible time, and it was togetherness, more than anything else, that was keeping us vibrant. A quiet dinner in the night was just sufficient to mark the day as perfect...touchwood.

Indeed a Happy Holi!!!

Today is International Women's Day

2007-03-08T21:19:00.000+05:30

"When did you flip a situation so you could resist, when did you give back as hard as you got? When and how did you choose to confront? When did you become an Action Hero?"

Trust me, when you act to become an Action hero, you look like a heroine on a bollywood locale. Also take my word: when in this country you are being sexually harassed and want to fight back, NO ONE will ever help. So it is you who needs to decide and act or else sit back and be a source of sadistic sexual pleasure to an unknown bastard. Me decides to revert most of the times.

Today is International Women's Day, and as promised, I have my Action Hero story to narrate.

I was traveling in a state transport bus from Sonipat to Delhi. A nodding uncle on my next seat decided to use my shoulder to lean on, every time the driver decided to break. Occasionally I wud feel his arm trying to rest on me on all the wrong places. Any smart woman can identify a ‘touch’. I just pumped up my strength and waited for the next jerk, “thud” went the brake and there went the uncle’s head on my shoulder. I was all set and there I went “uncle mein yahaan aapko sulane ke liye nahi baithi hoon” (I am no sitting here to make you sleep). Now this appears to be a normal story…lemme bring in the spice.

The uncle, too embarrassed by my high-pitch complaint, decided to revert in the same tone “ek to itni der se haath peir maar rahi ho, ab chilla ke neend kharaab kar di”(After repeatedly trying to touch me, why have you now disturbed my sleep with your scream). Now that was a little too much to bear. I took a deep breath to think and plan and act: I called up 100, informed the cops and requested them to help me when I reach ISBT. All sounds in the bus died out and what followed were murmurs and turning heads. I looked at the uncle who had started panting as he heard me on the mobile, maybe wishing that it just turns out to be an empty threat…it wasn’t. The moment the bus stopped at ISBT, two cops who had just then emerged from a PCR gypsy got into the bus and called my name. I didn’t have to say much, the cops were decent and pulled the guy out from the bus, signaled me to follow.

The uncle was too shocked to say, the only words that I cud hear were “didi kya baat ho gayi”. He was all red in face, partly with the knock and rest with embarrassment. Picture me standing there, right in the middle of some hundred people, many trying to just get a glimpse of the Beauty and the Beast. Some were even trying to play hero: “arey didi jaane do na inko, achhi family se lagte hain” (let him go, he looks to be from a decent family). Delhi Police was at its best that day, the cops were shooing away the tamasha loving janta. This was a situation hard enough on the strength that a woman usually wears, I don’t know where that extra dose came from and how I just didn’t break down. An FRI would have become tedious, so I decided to let the uncle go. The cops did make him touch my feet and say sorry…another deeply embarrassing situation. The crowd sure was making me feel naked, but I am happy I was able to fight out and stand tall. Did i inspire the women folk (I maintain that I am not a fanatic feminist). Hey prowling guys (am I sounding feminist?) watch out...the next Action Hero may just hit you on the face.

More Action Hero stories on http://blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com/

An early morning thought

2007-03-02T11:43:00.001+05:30

The day started too early for me…and the morning was so beautiful, thin sheet of fog and dew on my garden. Gardening for sure was the best time pass…and there I was with my tools. Thanks to the recent downpours, a lot of weeds have mushroomed, some of them trying to give my rose plant, a run for nutrition. The obvious retort was to dig them out...and I obliged almost musing Paul Coelho’s lines from “Like a flowing river” which read that weed is a plant too, who gets the same amount of sun and life from God, but it’s only our perception which makes us decide on which is a plant and which is it, that we want to disregard as a weed. Now some of the weeds had really come up beautifully...it was hard to de root them. I decided to rehabilitate them into a huge tin (cookie pack) that I cud find.

An interesting news item lengthened my though process: The ancient “foundling wheels” concept (a revolving wooden barrel lodged in a wall, often in a convent, that allowed women to deposit their offspring without being seen) has made a comeback in various places across Europe wherein they have modernized the drop-off points, some of them are even equipped with a heated cradle and lifesaving instruments, including a respirator.

I kept thinking about the modern foundling wheel aka the cookie tin pack.

Blank Noise Project

2007-03-01T14:07:00.000+05:30

Me not too sure what the enthu bunch at Blank Noise Project is doing, but brother Abby is actively a part of it. Anyway, i'm sure impressed with their 'bang on the face' approach and daring street activities...i think i like them. March 8 is Women's day and the folks at the Blank Noise Project are asking all to share your story of fighting back. I am gonna post it soon, and its easy.

To participate:

1. announce the event.
2. blog your story
3. email about it and they will link you right away!

Email: blurtblanknoise@gmail.com

Sleeping tight

2007-02-28T11:44:00.000+05:30

Jaagen hain der tak humein, kuch aur sone do…the song quite describes the transition in my pattern. Yeh that’s right. After months of restiveness on the bed, finally I like to sleep…I am enjoying every moment of this revived activity, just want to do more of it, more often.

Like the past few days, last night too I slept at around twelvish (now that used to be like early evening for me)…but maybe last night I kinda succumbed to this movie that I was watching. Traffic Signal is the name: a movie thats irritating to the core, right from the word GO. It is just about naked children/beggars on a traffic signal with our dude, Mr. Kunal, a manager to the business at the signal. I mean we all know that beggar mafias exist, and we know that police and doctors are a party, and so there is just no need for this shabby and superficial representation which is blank on the bottom line. Someone please tell Madhur Bhandarkar that we too read newspapers and so there is no need for him to foolishly club some news stories into a movie. To top it, the movie wud test your patience with that unbearable background score (shore is the hindi word for it) and the music. Time for us to say a bye bye to Mr. Bhandarkar, or better still, he shud bid us goodbye. BTW exept when it comes to Farhan Akhtar movies, I quite seem to agree with Masand (banda ye bindaas hai), read http://www.ibnlive.com/news/masands-verdict-traffic-signal/32637-8.html.

The only good pick in the entire last week was Cheaper by the Dozen 2. A through entertainer with Steve Martin at his ever best, the movie so beautifully paints a picture of family bonding…a scene or two did jerk my tear glands. Well tears remind me of something very interesting that I read lately: tears brought about by different emotions have a different chemical make up …isn’t that amazing?

Ek aur chehra mera...

2007-02-24T20:24:00.000+05:30

Kshitij ki tarah door, bahut door hai mann
Na uska, wo sapna, jo chahta hai use pana
Na uska, wo sach, jo rehta hai usse door
Na kshitij ka… jo na door, na paas, bus akela

You too here?

2007-02-24T13:16:00.000+05:30

Do not want to think about the logistics, the fact that i have been able to inspire someone to land here, makes me happy. I am sure it will help put words to all those unsung emotions, blue or pink. Welcome aboard!!!

Dreams-II

2007-02-20T11:41:00.000+05:30

I saw dreams again, this time in the eyes of the 15 young candidates I met for interview.

In those 15 pair of eyes, I saw dreams: to make it big, to earn good, to travel overseas, to make their parents proud. Rejecting any in the lot was a tough job, because it was so crude to suddenly wake them up and perturb their dreams. While one wanted to support his family financially, another one wanted to make it big…the way Dhirubhai Ambani did. Sounds infantile, but have we not dreamt the same when we passed out from college.

The nervousness of the candidates reminded me of my first interview, and that was with Raj Kamal Jha, the genius behind The Blue Bedspread (read the book to believe that he is one), the book that won the 2000 Commonwealth Writers' Prize for Best First Book (Eurasia region) and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. One look at him, and I wanted to run away. A stern and no nonsense person, his room was full of smoke… that must have been his 79th cigarette of the day. I was in my second year of college then…too early to face that man of intellect.

I could relate to the nervousness of those candidates, to the thoughts running on their mind, and more so, to their dreams. Those were my dreams 10 years back…time can place you on any side of the table, but dreams are forever.

Live your dreams

2007-02-18T13:44:00.000+05:30

I keep repeating this in my posts, but this is something I believe in.

My belief further strengthened after I watched Guru. No point saying a word here…we already know it is superb. The movie reinstates my conviction on “Dreams”. Why I keep repeating this: yeh because all these years of my life I thought life is real, reality is life, beyond this, there is nothing. Suddenly one day I met my dream, he told me that in the one life that we have, we need to live for ourselves, we need to look for what we want. I was introduced to a new world of dreams, and exploring beyond that. This was the world where you think out of reality, think of making it happen, and that is much beyond the life that you are living.

Live your dreams, live your life and dream of doing all that you want, that you can, and all that you think, you should. F*** that something we term as routine and try and do things that you dream of….

BTW we got Mauli shaved off again, isn't he looking cute?

Wathced Salaam-e-ishq: Minus Salman Khan (who looks constipated as always), I enjoyed it thoroughly, though will not recommend it.

Baat phoolon ki

2007-02-16T10:03:00.000+05:30

Phir chidi raat, baat phoolon ki...(remember the song)

An interesting story to share: It all began on a Valentine’s Day 12 years ago when Karuturi, a mechanical engineer, was sniffing around Bangalore for roses for his wife (how romantic). Finding none, he decided to step out of the cable business he was running and plant high-value stem roses for a living. He set up Karuturi Networks, which now processes 12 million roses annually (behind every successful man, there has to be a woman).

This Bangalore based company is now close to acquiring the Netherlands-based world’s largest producer and supplier of roses (they produce 9600 million roses annually!!) to emerge as the global leader in roses.

Country is living the days of acquisition, Tata, Birla and now this little known one from Bangalore. But unlike the other two deals which smell of money, this one radiates fragrance.

How much I love flowers. When in those years of college I was dreaming of being rich and famous, I always used to plan of getting 10 roses and 1 gerbera (I love that flower solo) delivered every morning. With time, since the richness and fame didn’t come in, the dream is lost. I hate that.

But its never too late to try to relive dreams and dream better. I love flowers but no one gives me any(are u listening). So what, I will have what I want…cross the road, bargain a bit and get my choicest collection.

This solo gerbera on my desk has given me immense pleasure since yesterday.

As for future, maybe I will bring my dreams to reality if I am rich, or maybe someone decides to plant a few stems for me…u never know.

Happy Valentines

2007-02-14T12:07:00.000+05:30

It’s Valentine’s Day. And so what, at 30 I am not supposed to feel mushy mushy, say I love you, wear red. My take on that…why not. Because when was the last time you did anything like that….see it’s taking you long to remember. So today is the day. More so, we are in a country which looks for reasons to declare celebrations, so why not today.

It’s a good day to connect, express, make out, reach out to people you care for but have lost them in time. Just like Sid, thanks Sid for calling, I was really touched…off course, imagine a young, handsome business tycoon calling you early morning...the day has to be special…or has to be made special…whichever way makes you feel good.

The love of my life…mauli has a heart shaped tattoo that I made early morning from that leftover red nail paint. My way of doing something to make the day special…

My idea of a perfect valentine…me, my life, my dreams. So as me is with myself, my life is so close to me, and I am getting closer to my dreams….the day is so good, so beautiful.

It's a sunday, it's a funday

2007-02-11T19:16:00.000+05:30

Sexy is the word. The chill, the rain, the breeze that wipes off melancholy. Hey the weather is so very beautiful. Rim jhim rim jhi, rum jhum rum jhum, bheege bheege rut mein, tum hum hum tum, the beautiful song from 1942-A Love Story is so apt…listening to it and cooking chicken in the kitchen. And how can I miss the marvelous wristwatch that Ashi brought from Macy's at US and those oh-so-yum and seductive mint chocolates (dear friends reserve my share, not so dear ones finish it). God is grateful on Sundays.

But it has never rained like this in my memory…since Mauli had recently gone bald, sir mundate hi oley pade was our pun in the day. But trust me, our garden was all white with oley/hail (don’t know if the English equivalent says it correct). For someone who has lately been missing pahaad ki sardi, the day was a delight.

Look at the picture to believe that there was actually a sheet of oley in our garden and the windscreen of my first floor wala's car broke too. God i love you!

Dor: A movie worth watching

2007-02-11T09:02:00.000+05:30

A beautiful day, so nice, so cold…so romantic. Typically these are the days when my emotions are on a high and thoughts run on my media player throughout. A solitary walk outside the house on our deep dark road and a few thoughts go rolling….I watched this movie Dor last week and a particular scene therein was fiddling with my peace during the walk.

In the movie a young widow was harassed by her mom in law but a senior lady in the family (who was a widow too) was supporting the girl. In this particular scene, the girl and the lady (the two widows) were standing in a room and her mom in law was preventing her from going out. At this, the senior lady lamented: you should not forget humanity in the proud of being with a man, because you too may be in this room one day. The mom in law stepped back and allowed the young girl to go. The emotion and thought with which this scene was executed is truly mind blowing.

A good suggestion for the weekend, watch the movie. It is a not-to-miss variety.

We love Rajdeep

2007-02-09T22:23:00.000+05:30

CNN-IBN’s editor-in-chief, Rajdeep Sardesai has been named Impact magazine's person of the year for 2006. Good. He is one of those three men whose pictures have made it to my books and desktop. (no i am not writing about the other two). He is adorable – a delightful package of intellect, style, and charisma. The channel impresses and has all the ingredients of a perfect news channel. Congrats to the team!!

Shortcomings cannot be ignored, and that comes when you start selling your name more than your work. Amitabh and Abhishek have made it to CNN- IBN news more than anything and that is disappointing. The coverage on Nithari though is not too great. The investigations are escaping IBN cameras and reporters. A story today on the same really enraged me because they referred to the deceased girl as an ‘alleged call girl’. I mean was that even relevant...she died an uneventful death and that is it. Why do we even want to get into the details of her personal life? We cannot forget the fact that it was only because of her that the killing of those innocent souls came to light. Her family members went from pillar to post to get their complaint registered and inspite of the police atrocities, refused to give up.

We must feel gratified towards her family for fighting up the corrupt officials and today when the world is dazed by this goriest incident of the times, Mr. Reporter chooses to believe the police and do a sketch of the poor girl.

Live firangi, love desi

2007-02-07T14:48:00.000+05:30

ICICI has started this automated ticket service system wherein u enter the bank, enter your service requirement, get a printed coupon (service number) from a machine and then wait till your no. and the counter no. where u need to move to is flashed on the screen. I was impressed. The first time I learned of this service feature was while doing the web-based training for Maybank (Malaysia). That impressed me even more since the concept appeared innovative and too kool. Experiencing it practically...well I quite liked it.

ICICI bank branch reminds me of Nirula’s. So much alike they are, both launched with an international appeal promising to bring the international flavor to their offerings and both gone down to become so desi over the years. The bank branch decked up with banners and cut outs of shahrukh khan and the gold coins quite appeared to me of some surplus from Diwali, too loud and too appalling...It is supposed to look like a bank…Isn’t it?

Same with Nirula’s, a synonym for ice creams and all the junk food that was unheard of in those days. Pizza actually to me was introduced by Nirula’s, and we used to proudly go there and say 212 to convey that we wanted their mushroom capsicum pizza, which on the menu list had the same number. With limited options and that craze to try the delicacies with firang appeal, Nirula’s indeed was a hot spot in my days of college. Today I come across customers waiting to order samosa-chola and kulchas at Nirula’s. The last time I went there, I even saw a platter with dal makhani and bhindi tadka there….hello whats that?

The bottom line…well I need to prject an upshot from my words at work…well it is just to bring home the point that with Indians, desi rules. An Indian is born Indian, tries to live firang, but in the end, dies Indian. Point made.

Dad's got a job

2007-02-07T13:52:00.000+05:30

There are days when life stands still. Even with the breeze outside, nothing seems to move. No trees, no leaves, no strands of hair on the face, no dupatta - it is just silene everywhere, obviously replicating the silence inside. But at times it becomes difficult to know why, and there is no reason for that unknown fear, will i lose something today, suffer anything, will anything go against me, is a failure coming my way...donno. But for sure there are days when there is this absolute killing silence inside..the condition which the happening generation may define as feeling low.

Okay so i was feeling low today. Suddenly a news bangs on my mobile phone...Dad's joined today as National Rural Health Management Consultant…Wowowo! Finally this breaks the lowly feel and I am on a usual high again ready to take on the world...my world.

Nothing lasts long....

2007-02-05T15:09:00.000+05:30

Pleasure for sure comes from good things, and all good things are not real.

The weekend was good, days away from reality and nights so close to dreams. With mom dad around, the feeling of pleasure was so very intense. Chatting, eating out, shopping, everything so material…but pleasing. (Some thousands down on the credit limit is all it takes to be happy…really?)

Well no…it was just the touch of pleasure. The touch of dreams at night and the touch of illusory in the day…and nothing is for real, and for long. As papa was zipping my pullover in the trial room, he made me feel a kid….wish I was. “No u are not buying this…the neck is so deep...the trouser is so ill fitting….hey this looks like done for you…You need to buy this”

Completely putting their heart and soul into me, they helped me choose my wardrobe to put an attempt to make me look good, they actually made me feel school-going. Nothing good lasts long with me, they have left for Sonipat….thanks ma-pa, you really pampered me to ecstasy. Will miss you!!!

Pleasure

2007-02-03T14:14:00.000+05:30

Pleasure to me is a relative thing…cannot see it, but feel it within. And the sources of pleasure can be innumerable- physical, mental, and emotional. Every sense of pleasure emanates in its own unique way. It can be a smile, a touch, a whimper or just a hug….even doing a paranta for Maulik is pleasure.

Pleasures also come from dreams, distant dreams…and we do experience that…we get, what we need in our dreams, from our dreams…with no touch, no smile, no hug, just a feeling that I can see what I want….and try and live the dream. Feel like thanking my dreams, they inspire, they make me love myself….and they please.

It’s a Saturday and as we be with our families, should not forget that greater pleasures come from very small acts of benevolence... make sure you do that.

India is proud...

2007-02-01T10:57:00.000+05:30

All the media dropouts like me who have been making bread in other industries, would have sure spend a moment every day trying to criticize media for where it is going. Times of India is creative but not quality, Aaj tak is cheap, media is getting into sensationalism…bla bla. For sure I would have been making the same mess if I was there, but the escape route is always easy….and the next step, sit back and criticize.
But I am sure for me and my friends for whom everything in black and white is bible, today is the day of worship. Tata has made it big and Times of India has complemented the big win, just the way it deserved. The front page which was a treat to the eyes speaking creativity and a style that is just so appropriate.

The headline, India on Song, Takes Corus Along so well echoes the music of the indiapoised anthem, wherein it says (I’ll do that in hindi bcoz that reads better) “Ab humein swadeshi ka nara chod kar videshi comapnio par tiranga legrana hai”…Ratan Tata has just done that and is making us all proud.

Three cheers to the man who is making us proud and to TOI for so rightfully capturing it in just the right way!!

Art of talking...

2007-01-31T09:12:00.000+05:30

Kirk Arnold, Vice Chair and President and Chief Executive Officer and Aurora Coya,Senior Vice President, Global Practices at Keane. Women power rules Keane and that for sure inspires.

The eloquence of Aurora at the Open House yesterday was impressive, infact more than that. Her words were spontaneous, transparent, and hardcore business. Her straightforward verbalization invited me to understand business decisions…and I felt as if I was a part of it. This is how I perceive communication: way of saying things the way audience can hear and relate too and an effective communicator is one who can step down to the level of the audience and then explain to them eye to eye.

In a place like Keane, where things like communication, expression, body language are alien, Aurora impressed me. The managers here look tired and sleepy and some of them ready to retire (not just from Keane). Sukant is the only Keanite in India who impresses the indolent, apathetic, janta at Keane. He really has mastered the art to impress with his witty and down-to earth message which does go down to everybody comfortably. Hoping people of the energy and style like Sukant and Aurora bless us often.

Sunday musings…

2007-01-28T21:44:00.000+05:30

Remixes are passé. This is the generation of dare to dream directors….and thus remakes. Don and Umrao Jaan: same story, different canvas. It took me some guts against the public outcry, to finally demand Don from the CD parlor. I admit…I liked it ... cinematography, performances, costumes, techno outlook and a lot more things. Accept it or not, the movie is really good, only if you stop being a part of that national campaign which says Big B jaisa koi nahi and Shahrukh we hate you because you try to give Amitabh a run for roles and money. You even stole his part in KBC…how dare you (an offended freak even called Shahrukh a prostitute in a post on IBN). We know Big B has no equal…don’t we. Even to say that Big B was better is…well foolish. I mean who in the world asked you to compare. So relax…Even Masand at IBN disappointed me with his scene to scene comparison in his review of the movie….but that guy I am sure has something against Farhaan Akhtar(he cud not appreciate Laksya too). Big B and King Khan cannot and should not be compared...if you do that, better shut up and go and watch the gibberish Priyadarshan comedies.

Umrao Jaan's failure...hmm: a mismanaged and hastily executed project, which cud have been better. I did enjoy the beautiful lady in there, she was trying to act good (i said trying). As for Bachan jr...he for sure was looking like a cut surd...lol.

Mauli had good fun at Aryan's B'day. Thanks mom Radhika for the yum party.

Ashi, we miss you and are waiting to hear from you.

Bye Ashi..

2007-01-27T14:18:00.000+05:30

Mauli’s bua Ashima is flown to the US this morning, her long time dream is accomplished. She always had that mettle in her, but failed to recognize it. She wanted to fly, but was never ready to open her wings, and when she did…she could fly. As I blog here, I can visualize her in the sky…flying. Congratulation dear….I will miss you!!!

Still high on patriotism as I hear Falak pakad ke utho aur hawa pagad ke chalo (http://www.indiapoised.com/). I think I caught the patriotic fever after anchoring a Republic day antakshari at Keane. It was great success and Sukant was really happy. (He is no guy next door but our very own MD). When a fellow at work Ipsita said...i was looking at you in surprise and I am really proud of you, that was it to make my day. Our team had a blast and walked away with prizes from Sukant. Wowo...

I Love My India!!!

2007-01-26T20:16:00.000+05:30

Koi bhi desh perfect nahi hota, use behtar banana padta hai...RDB

Well that was rightly said. What I haven’t still understood is that is all this awakening that we witness a result of RDB, or is RDB a reflection of the same? Whatever it is, the country is rising, and it is all set to take the world in is stride. Even the modern day youth is just not a fat salary and parties, but yes there is an evident transformation and youth is ready to take charge. For sure we cannot ignore the role media is playing here. Films, literary works, sms contests, extensive news coverage, and concepts like indiapoised, india rising, citizen journalist are some of the initiatives that are there to ensure that the country is well informed and alert. Only this can lead to awakening and response, which we have for sure been witnessing from the recent past.

What better than music can move India. For all those who are proud to be an Indian and are swollen with pride every time an Indian is able to make a mark on the globe, do hear the anthem at http://www.indiapoised.com/.

The generation is rising and is already on a march against corruption and injustice. I am with them…come...Join me.

Bad news...now some good news

2007-01-24T09:30:00.000+05:30

Abby is the Star of the Month at NIIT. A ‘Mentor’ and a 'Quality' freak is what the citation reads for this 4-month old at the company. Abby we are proud of you. (so bollywoodish!!!)

Having heard me a couple of times screaming like a typical Indian home maker at the doodhwala for the quality and quantity of milk, Mauli has decided to do the check himself. As the bhaiya pours doodh, he sits there and closely observes it. When done, he gets up and reacts...Momma theek hai. Another Quality freak?

Thank God it was Saturday...

2007-01-23T10:33:00.000+05:30

It was the chilling night of Saturday when mom dad, after attending a wedding at Essex Farms, were returning home to Sonipat (not to mention how much we told them not to). A truck driver, seemingly complying with his adrenaline rush banged into dads much-loved Wagon R from the rear side. The thud was loud and lifted the car to almost half a feet. Thankfully no one was hurt. The driver and his accomplice managed to get away within seconds as dad regained breath and senses. The highway police was of some help and so were some friendly neighbors who spotted dad in the middle of some chaos and offered help. Will ignore discussing the damage to the car here…that’s trivial.

Superstitious I am not, but yes agree to believe in God. As Abby (hey blog, let me introduce him as my younger brother, friend, philosopher, and at times a guide too) just decided to vanish from the marriage party and push to his abode at CR park, he spared the back seat and thus any victim of the accident. Thank God…

Life is beautiful

2007-01-21T23:30:00.000+05:30

Picturesque situation: Snuggle-in Saturday, waking up at 11, eating in the bed, a long walk in the evening followed by a latest bollywood flick. A relaxed Sunday comprising an afternoon of shopping jaunt…all this ends in a nice home cooked corn pasta and gajar ka halwa. What better cud life offer…a perfect weekend for the family…Mauli taking pleasure in each moment of that extra pampering from papa….ANU is what he fondly calls his papa. Touchwood.