Everyday Inspirations

High Speed Lane

2012-01-28T16:20:00.002+05:30

The social activism week is being celebrated through the district and the Active Theater group is staging a theme play...

High Speed Lane

(Curtain rises. A young fellow is seen sitting across a posh table in a very small, very clean and bright room.)

Shrink: Welcome! Welcome my friend, what brings you here?

(Happy: Who doesn't welcome a ready-made mint? I have paid twenty five hundred for this welcome!)

Happy: A referral from Muskaan's Asha Kiran!

Shrink: Do you mean the one at Vijay Chowk?

Happy: Righto!

Shrink: Hmm, interesting! Have you successfully undergone their program?

(Happy: You find that interesting, are you an expert at dealing with addicts?)

Happy: Well, they refused to take me in in the very first place :(

(Shrink: What type of a case is this, looks confident, speaks perfectly well yet sounds creepy :O)

Shrink: Oh really! I never heard them doing anything like this before. Were you given any reason being sent to me?

Happy: Not initially, but I asked for it. Are you willing to hear the truth :P

Shrink: Why not, I am dying to know.

Happy: Brace for the revelation then! They said you are the most psycho shrink in the town and would kinda suit me ;)

Shrink: I think we will kinda get along well in that case :)

Happy: :D

Shrink: Now tell me Happy, why were you so secretive while fixing the appointment?

Happy: Well, you see...

Shrink: Well, strange as it might sound, I am no MRI scanner. You will have to tell me at least something. Let's shift to a better room to talk freely.

(Happy is led into a bigger and cozier room with easy chairs. He is offered the first serving of Pepsi which is not spiked as per ethics. Conversation resumes after a brief pause.)

Happy: Doc, I am in this weirdo situation. And I will be very uncomfortable if my situation is known to any third party. Can I trust that nothing of this is being recorded?

(Shrink: Oh you are teaching me new tricks!)

Shrink: You can completely trust me that all of what we discuss here dies within these four walls.

(Shrink: Given a choice, I would have happily disclosed everything about you, but I haven't been afforded that privilege; ethics, you know!)

Shrink: I am waiting to 'see' this 'weirdo situation' :)

(Happy's balloon of thoughts was waiting to burst out...

Happy: Thanks to drugs, I know what's heaven, what's the state of pure bliss, how it feels when the skull becomes weightless, soft and porous and soaks in the sweet nectar which every single cell of the brain relishes with utmost pleasure, the world gets slower, enchanting music props up in the background, the kingdom of brain expands into a fantasy garden filled with dancing giant fireflies and every single atom of your existence starts gyrating to their tunes and then the soul gets liberated!

As you plop back into the muddy waters of realty, you crave like a madman for this ecstasy, every single atom of your existence revolts against even feather-light rational thoughts trying to auto-pilot you towards Asha Kiran!

...and it did burst with a loud pop and a painful twitch of the body!)

(Shrink: And they instead of letting you land there, divert you here! By the way, you tempt me to do drugs and that makes a classic case of hunter getting hunted.)

Shrink: I can see, you have been through a hell lot of pain and I can very well empathize with you. Tell me more. Did friends get you into this holy mess?

Happy: That's the catch in my story. I can bet my friends are holier than any living holy men. It was a doc who drove me to this high speed lane :(

Shrink: Let me understand this clearly. Do you mean to say that a genuine doc, a registered medical practitioner? :O

Happy: Yeah.
Shrink: *#$% ?@$#%& ^#@*

Happy: Please don't be so harsh on him. He kinda did me a favor. I could not be administered anesthesia. He spared me the horrors of surgery by sedating me. So you get it now, he gave me those sedatives in the operation theater.

(Shrink's eyes are popping out in disbelief while Happy appears to have calmed down.)

Shrink: So, so when were you operated upon? I mean for long have you been taking those sedatives?

(Happy gets agitated.)

Happy: Are you kidding doc? You should be able to guess that! Anyways, I am not in touch with any of them anymore. It's just that the sweet taste still continues to linger in my brain, I can still see those fireflies. A good company and strong will keeps me away from it, but it feels like a torture that tramples my psyche.

(Shrink is visibly relieved and the sweat drops evaporate from his forehead though Happy fails to notice that)

Shrink: Hmm...that's a good start that you are able to maintain the distance. Let me deduce, you never had that stuff of your own, else you couldn't have been sitting here articulating so well. Is that so?

Happy: That was straight from an MRI scanner :)

Shrink: Thank you :)

Happy: So what next?

Shrink: Next? Next...yes of course next you have to be saved from the trampling torture. Lemme see how...

(Bullet trains of thoughts start colliding against each other inside the tracks of Shrink's mind)

Happy: ???

Shrink: Happy, I promised to keep our talks behind a permanent veil. May I ask you for a promise in return?

Happy: Hmm...(imitating Shrink) lemme see...well yes!

Shrink: You are a very determined young fellow. Promise me that you would stop thinking of the events that landed you in the OT. It will break the series of thoughts leading to the memory of those sedatives. The less you are reminded of the state of ecstasy, the less you will be tempted to try it again, the lesser tortured you will feel to suppress that temptation.

Happy: Wow! That's quite uncomplicated, quite simple. (Getting up and hugging the shrink)Thank you doc, thank you, thank you :')

(Happy leaves the clinic feeling quite transformed. The shrink is still in shock at his success as all that he said was a mere desperate attempt to save his own face. Then suddenly, he starts jumping with joy and thinks aloud)

Shrink: Yes, I have done it, yes, I have finally put my English degree to a good use! Being an agony aunt, I mean uncle, was just so simple. Placebo theory does work indeed! I am all set at earning a handsome fees till they call me a quack again and kick me out of here :D

(Curtain)

Gone Crazy

2012-01-27T19:31:00.000+05:30

Gone Crazy

How do you know you are no longer alright?

When

To take a turn, 'right click' is your instruction to driver

To simmer a flame, all you say is 'minimize burner'

You hang up a call with words 'Closing the session'

See a crying baby and blurt out, 'oh, it's hanged again'

Instruct the tailor to 'edit size' of a brand new dress

Say 'spam' and friends know that means your boss

Party invites are just some 'freeware download' rights

And rightly curse morning alarm as 'boot sector virus'

Then

You know for sure you are no longer alright. :-)

Chaand Ka Jawaab

2012-01-27T18:56:00.000+05:30

दिनकर जी के दिनों में तो नन्हा चाँद माँ की परेशानी समझ झिंगोला सिलाये बिना रह गया था। पर आज का नन्हा चाँद माँ से कह रहा है...

चाँद का ज़वाब

लाड़-प्यार से पला हूँ तुम्हारे,

माँ मुझको अब न बहला रे;
चिढ़ाएं न मुझको नन्हें तारे,
मेरे कर दे पूरे नखरे न्यारे!

दिला दे मुझको पंद्रह-सोलाह,
हर साइज़ का एक झिंगोला;
आइस-क्रीम पर मन है डोला,
खिलौनों से भर दे मेरा झोला!

भर दे मेरे मोबाइल का बिल,
कॉल मिला लूं जब चाहे दिल;
औ दिला दे इक बाई-साइकिल,
फिर न बोलूं सफ़र है मुश्किल!

Bhagirathi Se Jaage Bhag

2011-12-26T00:33:00.000+05:30

भागीरथी से जागे भाग

हर की पौड़ी की ओर बढ़ते हुए दस से अधिक लोगों नि हमे रोका, दस रूपये का आरती का दिया खरीदने के अनुरोध करते हुए| इन लोगों ने प्रदेश की सबसे मधुर और विशुद्ध भाषा में गंगा मैया को दिया भेंट करने के फायदों का बयान किया| आखिरकार चिड कर मैंने उनके ही अंदाज़ में कह डाला, "इस दिये से तो गंगा प्रदूषित होती है"| अगले दस कदम चलते हुए मुझ पर तानों की बौछार हो गयी, "अरे इन मैडम पर वक़्त बर्बाद करने का फायदा नहीं, ये तो कह रही हैं की इससे गंगा दूषित होती है, दूषित, ओहो, इनको ऐसी हिंदी भी आती है, बताओ ये जब गंगा स्नान करेंगी तो गंगा दूषित होगी ही नहीं"| समझ नहीं आ रहा था की क्या सुनना बेहतर था, ताने या अनुरोध|

हर की पौड़ी पर दो महिलाएं पीछे पड़ गयीं, "बेटी, यह लो, गंगा मैया को दूध चढ़ा दो, तुम्हारी सभी मनोकामनाएं पूर्ण होंगी"| देखा, उनके पास करीबन दस लीटर दूध-सा दिखने वाला तरल पदार्थ था, जिसमे से वो एक छोटा से गिलास भर कर दे रहीं थीं, मात्र पचास ग्राम मात्र पांच रूपये में| वो उन सब श्रध्धालुयों का भी हिसाब रख रही थीं जिनने यह भेंट स्वीकार की थी, "उन लोगों से पंद्रह लेने हैं,उधर वालों से बीस और इनसे दस"| हमने सोचा, "खैर बड़े मुनाफ़े का सौदा है यह"|

मनसा देवी से लौटकर आये तो दोपहर हो चली थी| देखा हर की पौड़ी के पास एक महाशय पुकार रहे थे, "दस रूपये देते जाएँ, गरीबों के खाने के लिए, किसी गरीब का फायदा हो जायेगा, और हाँ, सौ रूपये में ग्यारह लोगों के लिए अन्न दान भी कर सकते हो"| प्रस्ताव काबिले तारीफ़ था| देखा वाकई ही लोगों की लम्बी कतार थी, भोजन पाने के लिए| मन पसीजने ही वाला था की दो महिलायों पर नज़र पड़ी| ये तो वही महिलाएं निकलीं जो पांच-पांच रूपये में पचास ग्राम दूध बाँट रही थीं| किसी ने कहा, "आखिर इनके लंच का भी तो वक़्त हो चला है"| खैर इस रहस्योद्घाटन ने हमे यहाँ चुना लगने से तो बचा लिया|

थोड़ी दूर आगे चलने पर एक और महिला मिली, गोद में दो छोटे छोटे अत्यंत भूखे दिख रहे बच्चे लिए| वह पांच मिनट तक कातर आवाज़ में दो रोटी मांगती हमारे पीछे-पीछे चलती रही| एक दूकान सामने देख कर मैंने सोचा चलो इसे दो रोटी ही दिला दूं| दूकान पहुँचते ही महिला तन गयी और झट से आर्डर कर डाला, "छह रोटी और एक दाल फ्राई पैक कर दो"| मुझे खटका हुआ| इतनी ही देर में उसके साथ और दो बच्चे आ खड़े हुए| मैंने कहा, "चलो यह छह रोटी आप सब लोग खा लेना"| महिला गरजी, "मैं इनको नहीं जानती, इनको तुम अलग से दिलाना"| परिस्थिति देख होटल वाला बोला, "आप इनको पराठे दिला दो, आपको सस्ते पड़ेंगे, खाने के लिए अचार और दही भी साथ मिल जायेगा"| महिला ने झट टोका, "दीदी, पराठे तो बहुत ऑयली हैं, मैं इतना तेल वाला खाना नहीं खाती"| सुन मेरे तन बदन में आग लग गयी, खून खौल उठा, मन किया इस महारानी को एक चांटा रसीद दूं और पूछूं, "क्या मैं तुम्हे पागल दिखती हूँ?" पर अफ़सोस, मैं ऐसा कर नहीं पायी| होटल वाले को कहा, "पार्सल करने की कोई ज़रुरत नहीं"| सामने परसाया और अंगारे बनी आँखों से घूरते हुए उन तीन महार्थियों को खाने को मजबूर किया| मुझे डर था कहीं वो उस खाने को वापिस बेच पैसे न कमा ले! और वो दो आगंतुक बच्चे भी उसे 'मम्मी' कह संबोधित करने लगे|

आगे चले, गंगाजल लेने के लिए खाली बोतल खरीदी, पूरे बीस रुपयों में| इससे तो सस्ती मिनेरल-वॉटर भरी बोतल मिल जाती है| गंगाजल लेते हुए देखा, एक महापुरुष आईना लिए पानी में सिक्के खोजता चला जा रहा है| दूसरी ओर कुछ और महापुरुष जाल में फंसाकर बहते दिए निकाल रहे हैं और सुखा रहे हैं, कुछ लोगों के बहते और बहाए कपड़े निकालने में व्यस्त हैं|

इन्हीं नज़ारों का लुत्फ़ उठाते हम ऋषिकेश को निकल पड़े| शाम को लौटे, आरती देखी, हर कि पौड़ी पर कुछ वक़्त बिताया और पास में खाना खाया| आठ बजे लौटने को हुए, हर कि पौड़ी को जाने वाले पुल पर कुछ याचकों ने गुहार लगायी, "अरे गंगा मैया के नाम कुछ तो देते जाओ, कम से कम बोनी तो कराते जाओ"| बोनी, रात के आठ बजे! किसी ने कहा, ये लोग शायद 'नाईट-शिफ्ट' में आये होंगे|

हरिद्वार से लौट आने पर यह याद आया, वहां रहते हरि की याद तो आ ही नहीं पायी| आखिर हरि के बन्दों ने इतना व्यस्त जो रखा! बाकी यादें तो धूमिल होती जा रही हैं पर उस 'दो रोटी' मांगने वाली को नहीं भुला पायी हूँ| अब भी यही सोचती हूँ की क्या उसका पराठे से इनकार करना इतना बड़ा गुन्हा था, क्या दाल-फ्राई मांगना इतना बड़ा जुर्म था| कभी तो ख्याल आता है की हाँ था, कभी महसूस होता है कि क्या एक इतने तुच्छ परोपकार ने मुझे इतना घमंडी बना दिया और उस बेचारी की पसंद का निर्णय करने का हक दे दिया?

आँखों में नींदें लिए

2011-12-07T19:53:00.000+05:30

It can't get harder to get up for office on a winter morn with melodious songs playing in the background. This is how Shaan's lines get garbled in the haziness of sleepiness!

आँखों में नींदें लिए

आँखों में नींदें लिए,
बिस्तर से उठ तो दिए,
जाने ठंडी में दुबके अब जायेंगे कहाँ|

Office से calls आयें,
मन में बहाने लायें,
मन में ही रह जाये बहानों का जहाँ,
Boss नया है, अनजाना है teammate,
पहुंचेंगे शायद फिर हम late!

Boring office, hectic project,

जाएँ वहां, फिर क्यों झटपट!

Client के नज़ारे देखे,

Boss के इशारे देखे,

मन में फिर भी movie का ख्वाब है जवाँ|

कितने तो weekend आये,
Office में spend कराये,
आँखों में झलके holiday की लालसा,
Picnic के plan से झूमे, मन करे salsa,
Project का जाने होगा क्या!

Boring office, hectic project,
जाएँ वहां, फिर क्यों झटपट!

मैं पागल तो नहीं

2011-12-07T15:53:00.000+05:30

Sibal, the only member of 'species with two Y chromosomes' seems to give 'Mouth-Loose' Diggi a serious competition for the award of the 'Biggest fool in the history of India' and he even hums these lines to support his claim...

Fir Desh Ko Kyon Behaal Kiya Hai

2011-11-28T03:40:00.000+05:30

फिर देश को क्यों बेहाल किया है

नागार्जुन की कविताओं में क्या तुमने कभी अकाल जिया है?

दिनकर की रचनाओं से क्या तुमने विक्रांत ख्याल लिया है?

शहीद सुभाष से सीखे क्या आतंक वादी को बवाल दिया है?

बापू भांति किसी पीड़ित का क्या तुमने कभी मलाल लिया है?

यह कुछ तो तुम कर न पाए, फिर देश को क्यों बेहाल किया है?

रातों जग किसी वैज्ञानिक सा कोई खोज या कमाल किया है?

नेक नागरिक की खातिर क्या अपनों से ही सवाल किया है?

अनाथ बालकों के भोजन को क्या कभी चंदा डाल दिया है?

क्या सरहद पर न्योछावर वीर के परिवार का हाल लिया है?

भ्रष्टाचार और महंगाई से, फिर देश को क्यों बेहाल किया है?

All That You Deserve Is Null

2011-11-27T18:07:00.003+05:30

Soup boys seem to follow Majrooh Sultanpuri's adage 'May you burn in hell Anamika' rather than Sahir Ludhianwi's 'Move on from a beautiful juncture'.

All That You Deserve Is Null

Why do soup boys sing why this kolaveri di,

When you forced the fairy to say no already?

By the way you treat a girl,

All that you deserve is null.

If you stalk her for a week or two,

Still proposal doesn’t go through,

You thunder, ‘Listen, I love you’

And show her all your colors true.

If you think parents won’t agree,

Yet want status of some degree,

And flaunt her as a piece of filigree,

You invite wrath on your pedigree.

If you know that she is really pampered and lazy,

You say that post marriage your life looks hazy,

As you the husband will have to cook like crazy,

Then all you want is a chef to make your life easy.

If you ask her indirect questions,

She isn’t blind to your intentions,

As you continue with pretensions,

You betray trait’s ugly dimensions.

If you think you really like her,

Yet fear of denial is a bit of bother,

What your pals gonna say for ever,

Ego is what you love, not really her.

Why do soup boys sing why this kolaveri di,

When you forced the fairy to say no already?

By the way you treat a girl,

All that you deserve is null.

Kuch Adhoora Sa

2011-11-26T02:59:00.002+05:30

'Their' attitude towards a girl is a true reflection of her position in the society. Many things have changed in favor of the so called Lakshmi, many are yet to change. These lines convey the feelings of a girl whose thoughts belong to the next generation.

कुछ अधूरा-सा

बड़े शहर में जब जन्मी कन्या, दूर गाँव से दादी आयी,

किन्नर भी आये आशीर्वाद सजाये और भेंट मंगायी,

दादी को लगा फिर सदमा, किन्नरों पर ढेर चिल्लायी,

माँ का मन कशमकश में, बेटी मंद मंद मुस्कुरायी |

रेल में भी किन्नरों ने जब तरफदारी नहीं दिखलायी,

अनसुनी कर पीर की झल्लाहट, कन्या से भेंट कमायी,

किसी ने तो उसकी काबिलियत पर सहमती जतलायी,

इस जीत की पताका बनी वो गर्वित फूली न समायी |

दुल्हन बनी बेटी ने अपनी अनोखी इच्छा बतलायी,

'किन्नर बुलवाएँ'? सुन घरातियों की टोली चकरायी,

रूठी रानी संभल गयी जब माँ ने यह उम्मीद जगायी,

उसकी बेटी की शादी पर होगी यह सामाजिक सच्चाई |

I Am A Regular Kid

2011-11-25T03:17:00.008+05:30

Claim: We kids with our regular activities are as beneficial for humanity as are bees and their nectar stealing for flowers.

I Am A Regular Kid

I am a regular kid and I know it.

Neighbors, oh they won’t show it!

You must have seen its jumbo nails,

Blood stained green zillions of nails,

That real ghost lives in Gulmohar.

I climbed up to befriend the specter,

There was one more, albeit slender,

Stuck on a wire, to my wonder,

As I chanced to trespass the clown,

It pushed me off and I fell down.

Floating in an aerial ambiance,

With ample frolic as I jived,

Wow, it was the best experience,

Sorrow, it was so short lived.

As my head got readily rooted,

In soil heap just below the tree,

I looked like one too, undisputed.

Savoring rare mutation spree,

With branching legs and a torso trunk,

Adorned with toes as if leaves shrunk,

Offshoots of arms and sepals of nails.

Unmindful of my protests and wails,

I was pulled out of the yummy soil,

And drenched with garden hose coil,

To wash away my tasty memories;

And prepare for detested drudgeries,

As lying still to let the pale devil peep,

And scream clots when can’t see deep;

Doc pointed at a worryingly big blot,

Which looks cute and I adore a lot.

See, that’s my gifted brand new brain,

Which gives me spunk and kills refrain.

All grannies are sad and lonely at noon,

Wishing visits from kids as far as moon,

As little tears drip from their eyes,

New brain fails to bear those cries.

I ring their low-rise doorbells,

And deliver generous sequels,

But grannies are still not happy,

They get snappy, call me crappy!

Next I deflate bicycle tires,

All I get in return is ires.

How to tell I am charity trainer,

And pumping is a cellulite slainer!

Soon their junk bodies start to tone,

But my services remain unknown!

They preach bitching is so bad,

Yet gossip makes them go mad,

Try to confirm those back bytes,

All you hear is 'this is heights'!

As trash slips out of houses onto the streets,

I send that back with monkeys and tweets.

They, for my act and words of wisdom,

Have named me king of monster kingdom!

Best is to splash in mini mud pools,

Created fresh by cleaning schools,

And paint sparkling cars all over,

In shades of earth over and over.

Now cleaners drain away the water,

And the pools dry much much faster,

Now roads have started to last longer,

Yet no gain to my image of evil monger!

I am a regular kid and I know it.

Neighbors, oh they won’t show it!

Raju Ke Haalaat, Gajodhar Ke Saath

2011-11-06T05:25:00.001+05:30

(लोकप्रिय कार्यक्रम 'राजू के हालात, गजोधर के साथ' प्रारंभ...

अँधेरे में गजोधर शब्द गूँज रहा है)

गजोधर (सोचत-सोचत): ई कौन माई का लाल जो आधी रात हमार नामवा जपे!

आवाज़ (चौंककर): अरे गजोधर, तुम्ही चले आये यहाँ!

गजोधर (खुसी-खुसी): अरे राजू भैया आप! कौनो नींद नाहीं आवत गाम में का? अब तो आप सितार-होटलवा वाले जो हो गए!

राजू भैया (परेशान): सो तो है गजोधर पर और भी बड़ी मुसीबत हमार गले पड़ गयली है| कल साम में हमार सो है झुमरीतलैय्या में, पर कौनो नवी चुटकियाँ सूझे ही न!

गजोधर (उत्तेजित): ये कौनो मुसीबत नाहीं भैया! आप पुरानी कहानियां की नवी खिचड़ी पका लेना, ई करन वास्ते तो माहिर हैं आप!

राजू भैया (उदास): न गजोधर न, अब ई नाहीं चलत! इह ससुरे इन्टरनेट ने सब गड़बड़ कर डाला; हर सो का विडियो उसपे टांग देवत हैं और हम जब भी कोई पिछली कहानी दुहराते हैं न, तो लोग लिख देवत हैं की ये तो उस फलाना सो में भी कहे थे| सो के पोड्युसर ये सब पढ़-पढ़ के हमार फीस्वा काट लेवत हैं|

अब तुम ही बताओ, बाढ़ में सभी भैंसियाँ बही गयी इस साल, नाहीं तो उनको निहार ही कुछ बूझ लेते; कोई नवे नेता पैदा ही नाहीं होवत, ढेरों बुडबक बुढ़िया गए, गद्दी से फिसल गए, जेल्वा में भर गए; बालीउड में भी सूखा परकोप होवे, मेरी पाखी, पिंकी, डाली, बीना को तो कोई संपवा सुंघा दियो, कोई भी मसालेदार बात न कहें वो आजकल; बची-खुची समस्या, हल करन वास्ते, अन्ना छीन लिए; अब हम का करें? हमको तो दाल-भात की चिंता सुरु हो गयी है, सच कहे दिए हैं गजोधर तुमको!

गजोधर (हैरान): आप बेकार टेनसनवा लेवत हो भैया! अभी ढेरों नेता बाकी होवे जिनके बारे आप कुछ कहत नाहीं; सबसे पुरानी पार्टीवा के सरगना लोगन को भी तो आप की फुलझड़ियों का हक होवे| का उनकी इतनी इज्जत करो की उनके बारे कबहूँ न बोलत हो?

राजू भैया (फुस्फुसावत): इज्जत नाहीं गजोधर, डर्र! हमहूँ बहूहूहूहूत डर्र लागत है| ओ का है ना, हम चुटकुले बनाने में बीजी रहत हैं, हमको फीस्वा का हिसाब करन वास्ते कौनो टाइम नाहीं मिलत| अब इनकम टैक्स का चक्कर तो तुम्ही जानत हो, कौनो जगन बाबू टाइप हमहूँ फंसा डाले सरकार, तो हम का करेंगे? तौबा तौबा!

गजोधर (गंभीर): अरे ई सम्मस्सा तो बड़ी भारी होवे पर हमहूँ मालूम है आप हल खोज लेवोगे| कहो तो आपका मूडवा तनिक बदल देवें|

राजू भैया (अविचलित): ठीक है|

गजोधर (सरमावत-सरमावत): हमहूँ आपको भैया कहिन से डरत हैं आजकल| जब से आपको देखे हैं साड़ी, चोली, सूट में, का बताएं, हमार दिमाग में भूचाल आया और हमार फ्यूज उड़ गया| हमहूँ कौन बिस्वास ही नाहीं होवत की वो अप्सरा आप...वो अप्सरा हमार दिल चीर ले गयी, हाय!

राजू भैया (गुस्सेल): ई का बक रहे हो गजोधर?

गजोधर (धीमे-धीमे): सच कह दिए हैं, हमहूँ तो 'सिल्पा सा फेगर, बेबो सी अदा' सब भूल गए हैं, बस 'पिंकी सा फेगर, पाखी सी अदा' ही याद आवत हैं आजकल| अब हमार मूंह और जिआदा न खुलाओ, हूँ!

राजू भैया (परास्त): ...

गजोधर (चिढ़ात): का राजू भैया, हमहूँ कौनो मजाक करन का हक नाहीं का| ये बातिया रिकॉर्ड कर लिए हैं, कल सो में ये टेप चला लेना!

राजू भैया (हैरान): गजोधर, तुम हमार बतिया रिकार्ड करत हो?

गजोधर (मुस्करात): न भैया, वो साम से आप इक बार भी न हँसे, न हंसाये तो हमहूँ समझ गए थे आप परेसान होवत| वैसे भी आप सबहूँ के बारे बोल बोल उनको परसिद्ध कराये, तो कोई आपके बारे न बोले तो बुरा तो लगे है न, तो हमहूँ बोल दीये|

(अगले कार्यक्रम हेतु विज्ञापन प्रारम्भ)

Sandal Speak

2011-11-02T18:36:00.003+05:30

Sandal Speak

I was worried about my destiny,

But got packed in silk and satin

And dispatched in a limo shiny,

To be ushered in an aero cabin.

Welcomed by excited screams,

Landed in the courteous city;

To be led to a palace of dreams,

In a procession like a deity.

I was treated to a lavish gloss,

Prepared by a dozen champs

And sequined with golden floss,

To be exalted with lamps.

Adorned on high head of elite,

As Bharat did eons back;

To be strapped on sissy's feet,

I was taken to her shack.

Stooping officers in public view,

Rubbed across their own hankies,

Till last invisible grime flew,

To felicitate F1 pros and rookies.

I was covered all over in dirt

And left outside the threshold,

To be kicked around and hurt,

Those days are gone and old.

At my smacks the state flinches,

My headlines making virtues,

By raising her glory three inches,

Are to be immortalized in statues.

A Beautiful Mind - Part III

2011-10-24T00:06:00.002+05:30

A Beautiful Mind - Part III

At Ayana, the grand pre-wedding ceremony,
We were being served the traditional dinner,
When my friend offered me a cuisine
That pleased my finicky palate more
Specially prepared by her mom for me
When chefs had prepared the food for others!

Shocked I was that she could still think of this
For a friend on the eve of her wedding,
Embarrassed I was beyond words for forcing
The gracious hosts for the exclusive treatment
Grateful forever I would be for the best meal
And for teaching me what relationships mean!

A Beautiful Mind - Part II

2011-10-22T02:27:00.000+05:30

A Beautiful Mind - Part II

She asked me to accompany her,
To the abode of life and tranquility,
The famed ashram, to fetch a potion
For the emperor of maladies;
The purpose brought alive memories
Which kept her melancholic
Till it was time for lunch and we headed
To the sylvan glade a mile away.

Leaving shoes outside as per custom, anxious was I
But she reassured given the sanctity of the place.
A sea of devotees was seated across
The rows of mats in the huge dining,
Where synchronized serving and partaking hands
Appeared to create dancing waves,
Soon we were a part of these waves
And came out satiated and smiling.

As destined my shoes had disappeared,
Feeling guilty she offered me her pair,
I refused and insisted on walking barefoot,
Seeing her pleas fail, she picked up hers
And started accompanying me barefoot!
It was my turn to protest but to no avail and
With her shoes dangling merrily in her hand,
We covered the mile back arguing.

I was used to walking like this and
Was least affected; unaccustomed,
Her feet got badly bruised, yet
The only thought playing on her mind
Was that she was the reason behind my
Supposed loss and plight, though
My real trouble was to hold back tears
As she drove us back some fifty miles.

A Beautiful Mind - Part I

2011-10-21T20:15:00.001+05:30

A Beautiful Mind - Part I

तोहफे को निहारता, बन्दे का खिला चेहरा,

TTE के आने से, पड़ गया फीका,

कांपते हाथों से टिकट दिखलाई,

M के बदले छपे F की मांगी माफ़ी |

सबने सोचा 100 का नोट तो बनता है,

बन्दे का हाथ भी पर्स पर ही टिका था,

आगे से ध्यान रखिये, कहते हुए बढ़ा आगे

हमने कहा, कमाल! ये तो इमानदार निकला |

घंटे भर बाद नींद खुली, अगली सीट पर नज़र रुकी,

कोई बैठा था वहां, बेल्ट में gun अटकाए,

पल भर के झटके के बाद सोचा gun छीन लूं

पर सामने बैठी बहन को देख मन पलटा

आनन्-फानन में TTE-CRPF को खोजा,

अगले ही डब्बे में वो TTE मिल गया

किस्सा सुन वो चला gunman के पास, टिकेट मांगी

वो बोला, MLA का गार्ड हूँ, दो स्टेशन बाद उतरना है |

मुझे देख अब भी नाखुश, TTE बोला,

अगले ही डब्बे में है मेरी सीट,

गार्ड जी आप वहां आराम फरमाओ

और gunman के साथ चल पड़ा,

ठीक से शुक्रिया भी न कहने दिया

पर न जाने कैसे कुछ बोल निकल पड़े,

तो देखे केवल मन, अभी तक मूक बना बन्दा,

मुस्करा पड़ा जैसे सहमती जता रहा हो |

Use Intezaar Hai

2011-10-21T01:34:00.006+05:30

Did not know that the concept of Nautanki existed outside the realms of Hindi films also till happened to witness one going on in the grand garden of a so-called posh hotel!

उसे इंतज़ार है

दिल्ली की कोलाहल से दूर, बसा है संगम शहर मशहूर!

ढलते पहर का था कसूर, जो देखा लिया ग़मगीन दस्तूर!
शीला-मुन्नी पात्र यथार्थ है, कल्पना नहीं, मरीचिका नहीं!
नचायें उसे लोभ-स्वार्थ हैं, जीवन के उसकी दिशा नहीं!

सजावट आलिशान, इंतज़ार में आसथान,
दर्द भरी मुस्कान, फिर भी ठुमके में जान,

उन्मत्त हैवान, नर्तकी के गुण-रूप से हैरान,
उसके नयन बेज़ुबान, फिर भी मन परेशान!

कौतुक-वश उसे बुलवाया, हुनर सहराया,
उसके हालात की दास्तां का सवाल दोहराया;

'तारीफ न करना मेरी, तारीफ तो चुभता काँटा है,

जिसकी नोक पे, मुझे दुनिया ने बाँटा है!

माँ से छुप-छुप कर दिन रात रियाज़ किया,
जूनून के कौंध में अंध, मेनका का ताज़ लिया,
हाय मैं तो जीत कर भी हार गयी,
पल भर में स्वर्ग से धरा पर आ गयी!

उन मदहोश आँखों की ललक भरी ज्वाला से मेरी रूह दहकती है!

तुम्हारी आँखों के तरल आईने में मेरे दर्द की आत्मा झलकती है!

क्या सोच तुमसे मिलने आ गयी, अजब आत्मीयता पा गयी!

माफ़ करना तुम्हे बहिन पुकार गयी, पत्थर का दिल हार गयी!

जीत कर हारने वाली को जानवर कहते हैं,

मुझे शीला-मुन्नी, उसे खच्चर कहते हैं,
वहां गले में बंधे घंटी, यहाँ पैरों में घुँघरू,
वहां बदन पे बोझ, यहाँ भी यही आबरू!

जो सच इस दलदल से निकालने की नीयत हो,

तो पगली, मुझे अपनी मेहरी की ही हैसीयत दो,

या फिर संग मेरे इस नरक की अग्न में जलो,
वरना तो इसी पल अपनी दुनिया में लौट चलो!'

विकल्पों से सिहर गया मेरा अंतर-मन,
पीछे हटने लगे कदम मेरे अन-मन,
वो मासूम दिखी पल-भर को चालबाज़,
बस गूंजते रह गए उसके अलफ़ाज़!

'यों नहीं कि अश्क को छलकना नहीं आता, कसूर बेदर्द दारु और हिजाब का है!

यों नहीं कि थिरकते पैरों को थकना नहीं आता, सवाल उड़ते पैसों के हिसाब का है!

यों नहीं कि उम्मीद को तैरना नहीं आता, क्या करिये जो दरिया तेज़ाब का है!
यों नहीं कि जुबां को और फिसलना नहीं आता, इंतेज़ार अब आपके ज़वाब का है!'

Bhaag Neta Bhrasht!

2011-08-31T16:52:00.002+05:30

Bhaag Neta Bhrasht

public mujhse boli,
tu galti hai meri,
tujhpe voting right,
guilty hai meri,
insaa ki shakal mein,
neta tu to nikla kaala kaag,

kaag, kaag, bhaag!

bhaag, bhaag, bhaag, bhaag,
bhaag, bhaag, bhaag, bhaag!

Oh by Ghoos lag gayi,

kya se kya bana,

banaya jo mahal,
jhaanka to hawalat,

piddi jaisa anna,

pakda to nikla bangla baagh,

baagh, baagh, bhaag!

bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhrasht neta bhrasht,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag!

bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhrasht neta bhrasht,
janta aayi hai!!!!!!!!!

maine kisko loota,
kaise ghisa kiska joota,
kya pataa,
government won’t have a clue!

itna hi pata hai,
corruption chode to bhalaa hai,
peechhe to,
ek Lokpal phaade mooh,

ye janta aayi hai,

sandesha laayi hai,

janta aayi janta aayi janta aayi janta aayi,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag!

hum to hain lutere,

ghotale kare bahutere,
sarkar..
jo khaye to chale,

kismat ki hai kadki,
ghoos niveden aur dhamki,

teeno hi,
aaj ki date na chale!

ramleela garden hai,
jahan anna maali hai,
public ka intellect, frustration mein
aaj gaya hai jaag,
jaag, jaag, bhaag!

bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhrasht neta bhrasht,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag!

bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhrasht neta bhrasht,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag!

hey, janta aayi janta aayi janta aayi janta aayi,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag,
janta aayi haiiiiiiiii!

public mujhse boli,
tu galti hai meri,
tujhpe voting right,
guilty hai meri,
insaan ki shakal mein,
neta tu to nikla kaala kaag,
kaag, kaag, bhaag!

bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhrasht neta bhrasht,
bhaag bhaag neta bhrasht neta bhaag!

Designer Diplomacy

2011-08-29T20:31:00.006+05:30

The curtain rises.

The headline and photos on the front page interview of a reputed national daily catches our psychopath reader's attention.

Tete-a-Tete With Designer Darling HRK

Reporter: Ms Hina, Welcome to India! Thanks for taking out your precious time to talk to us. How do you find our country?

HRK: It feel good!

R: Visiting Hurriyat leadership was high on your agenda, how did the meeting go?

HRK: Oh, family reunions are always fun and nostalgia, wish I visit Kashmir, they told it is very beautiful; India obsessed with beauty, that's why want to control.

R: M'am, you are the first politician to trend on twitter for your style statement, what is your reaction to our people's reaction to you?

HRK: I very happy, they are notice, I put in so much of efforts.

R: Can you please give details your efforts, I am sure our politicians would be happy to follow. Till now, many of them don saris worth a few lakhs every day, but no one seems to notice!

HRK: It is different, my other leaders threaten and bargain with big brothers to get some allowances and we given some. Don't you say better spend on pearls than grenades! And you know, my grandmother opened best secret to me, pearls, clothes and bags are contrasted, don't coordinated.

R: Well said M'am. You reminded us of Maharani Gayatri Devi who was discussed for her style statement. During an interview, she had also disclosed that the most important teaching of her grandmother was that never wear emeralds with green sari because they look much better with a pink sari. There is so much of similarity between the people of these two countries! And look at the similarity in names, we are proud of SRK, Pakistan is proud of HRK.

HRK: You talk about him, I hear he is production house owner. Do you think I can contact him for a Bollywood film, I hear it is lot of moneys.

R: Given your popularity, I am sure he will become the richest producer if he gets an opportunity to cast you. Your message would be duly passed on to him.

HRK: I want to be heroine, but no one in my family gone to college, only I gone, they made rule only college educated fight elections and I had to fight to save our family wealth.

R: Wish India could learn at least this from Pakistan, only college educated fight elections! You are so young, how do you manage to take important decisions on foreign policy which is so important for any country, especially Pakistan.

HRK: It is easy, I have an 'Army' of advisers to help in politics work.

R: We hope that this bilateral exchange between our countries continues in the right direction and we get to see you in India more often. Till then, true to your name, memories of your first visit will keep on dyeing our thoughts.

The psychopath is left scratching head trying to discover diplomacy in this designer discussion.

Curtain.

Role Model

2011-08-20T03:22:00.000+05:30

A month before the common man found an effective channel to vent out his anger and frustration at the governing system infested with corruption, I happened to travel to a far off place. Name does not matter to me anymore as I am optimistic about coming across more places like this. This place has a couple of structures of historical and architectural importance lying in a state of somewhat neglect for lack of funds. I would not have gone to this place for getting a mere look these structures but since I happened to be there, I thought it fit to pay a fleeting visit to these structures.

The first one is a palace, very thoughtfully built few centuries back. Now, it stands very carefully renovated with betel-juice paint, graffiti, pee and pigeon nests. Being very well lit and ventilated, the after effects of renovation do not suffocate me and I decide to quickly hop around. The curator is delighted that after a long time, someone with intentions not malicious entered the property. So he enthusiastically takes me around. On inquiring about the second structure, the big, circular underground bath or the 'gol bawari', he is even more delighted and calls up the curator there to inform him about my impending visit. Then he explains that the structure is kept locked to prevent nuisance mongers from mutilating it.

The curator at the bath is a very friendly uncle. Sheer happiness is visible from his face as he takes me around and explains the working of the elaborate system of yesteryear. I am aware that he has come all the way from his home in the afternoon sun for me. Purely based on previous conditioning to handle such situations, I feel obliged to reward him. This obligation is partly because of my host's genteel nature and partly because I believe that he would be expecting it and would feel highly disappointed if I leave without tipping him. As we come out, I take out a hundred rupee note and offer it to him saying, "Uncle, please have some tea."

I was not prepared for what happened next. He refused it very graciously with folded hands. I insisted. He said, "Sir, it is not needed, God has provided me everything. I got a chance to show you around, what could have been a bigger reward!" My head hung in shame in front of this man who could not think of justifying greed with the burden of a daughter's marriage or son's education.

Looking at the swinging corn ears and the distant hillocks on my way back, I could not help humming these lines...

निकृति की अग्नि से जलते हुए मन को, मिल जाये ईमान की छाया,

ऐसा ही सुख मेरे मन को मिला है, मैंने जब से परिचय तेरा पाया |

Anna Ki Chetavani

2011-08-20T02:08:00.001+05:30

Inspired by an apt observation (from Dinkar's epic conversation) on government's initial reaction to Anna's fast...

अन्ना की चेतावनी

वर्षों तक प्रदेश में घूम घूम, सरकारी विघ्न को चूम चूम,

सह चोरी महंगाई भ्रष्टाचार, अन्ना को यह आया विचार,

बेईमान न हर दिन चलता है, देखें क्या हल निकलता है;

उन्नति की राह दिखाने को, सरकार सुमार्ग पर लाने को,

मनमोहन को समझाने को, भीषण अपकर्ष बचाने को,

अन्ना जी राजधानी आए, जनता का संदेशा लाये|

हो न्याय अगर तो लोकपाल दो, पर इसमें भी यदि बवाल हो,

तो कर दो केवल पाँच परिवर्तन, पाओ अपने बिल का समर्थन,

हम वहीँ संतुष्ट हो जायेंगे, सरकार से विरोध न जताएंगे;

मनमोहन वह भी दे ना सका, आशीष देश की न ले सका,

उलटे अन्ना को बाँधने चला, जो था असाध्य साधने चला,

जब नाश मनुज पर छाता है, पहले विवेक मर जाता है|

अन्ना ने जेल स्वीकार करी, नव क्रांति की हुंकार भरी,

डगमग डगमग दिग्गज डोले, अन्ना कुपित हो कर बोले,

अन्दर रख कर साध मुझे , हां हां मनमोहन बांध मुझे;

ये देख गगन मुझमे लय है, ये देख पवन मुझमे लय है,

मुझमे विलीन भारतीयता सकल, मुझमे लय तरुण सकल,

ईमान फूलता है मुझमे, बलिदान फूलता है मुझमे|

त्रस्त नागरिक की चाल देख, अपनी सरकार का काल देख,

हित वचन नहीं तुने माना, जनता का मूल्य न पहचाना,

तो ले मैं भी अब जाता हूँ, अंतिम संकल्प सुनाता हूँ;

याचना नहीं अब प्रदर्शन होगा, जीवन भू को समर्पण होगा,

समक्ष वतन एकीकृत होगा, न और सहय भ्रष्टाचार होगा,

भ्रष्ट राजनीतिज्ञ सर्वनाश देखेगा, जनता का जीवन सुधरेगा|

लोग कर का हिसाब मांगेगे, पारदर्शकता, स्फूर्ति मांगेगे,

सब पर जांच का शिकंजा होगा, मंत्री विशेष न उन्मुक्त होगा;

मनमोहन प्रदर्शन ऐसा होगा, फिर कभी नहीं जैसा होगा,

आखिर तू भूशायी होगा, भ्रष्टाचार का अनुयायी होगा;

थी सभा सन्न, सब नेता डरे, चुप थे या थे नीचे गिरे,

केवल दो नर न अघाते थे, परदेस का जो सुख पाते थे|

Intekaam Ki Vidambana

2011-07-25T17:41:00.001+05:30

इंतकाम की विडम्बना

रोको रोको वह चिल्लाई,
                शांत शाम में तेज़ी आई,
दौड़ पड़ा था एक आदमी,
                उसके पीछे भीड़ आ जमी,
पहरेदार ने उसको रोका,
                किसी बुज़ुर्ग ने उसको टोका,
ख़त्म तमाशा मै चल पड़ी,
                अपने काम की थी हड़बड़ी;
लौटकर सुना जो किस्सा,
                मर गया दिल का एक हिस्सा!

वो पहरेदार से पूछ रही थीं,
                चोर के शक में डूब रहीं थीं,
वह टाल रहा था सवाल,
                पर महिलायों की जिद्द थी बवाल,
झल्लाकर उसने बोल दिया,
                दर्द को लफ़्ज़ों में तोल दिया,
चार महीने पहले की थी शादी,
                आज बहन की चिता जला दी;
पोस्ट-मोर्टेम ने हत्या जतलाई,
                बहनोई को मारने चला भाई!

जो नज़र गयी भीड़ पर, देखा,

वह भाई पड़ा था सड़क पर,

बुज़ुर्ग का उसके सर पे हाथ था,
                शायद यह माँ का साथ था,
वह कुछ समझा रही थी उसको,
                शायद पिला रही थी दुःख को,
मायूस चेहरे पे साफ़ लिखा था,
                उस अधमरे शरीर से साफ़ दिखा था;
मै लाचार हूँ, मै बेकार हूँ,
                बहन की मौत का मैं ज़िम्मेदार हूँ!

क्या बीत रही होगी उस माँ पर,
                तोड़ गया होगा जिसे जुर्म बर्बर,
फिर भी कैसे उसमे हिम्मत है,
                क्यों उसे इन्तकाम अ-सम्मत है,
शायद वधु-प्रपुत्र की चिंता होगी,
                शायद व्यवस्था से अवगत होगी,
कि असली मुज़रिम छूट जायेंगे,

औ उसके बेटे को जेल की राह दिखायेंगे;

एक बेटी के ग़म में वह जी लेगी,

मासूम प्रपुत्र की आत्मा तो नहीं जलेगी!

Asmanjas

2011-03-16T18:02:00.000+05:30

State of mind on signing the first technology transfer deal...

असमंजस

असमंजस की आंधी में बंजर है, सपनों से सींचा, उर्वर मनीषी उपवन!

चाहूँ मै उड़ना, उसके लिए पर, पर मांगें पैसे, पैसे की अस्फुट उलझन!

विचारों की दरिया में डूबते हुए मन को, मिलता न तिनका, किनारा,

आंसू की वर्षा को, मन की हताशा को, मिलता कलम का सहारा,

प्रलोभन हैं ज़्यादा, समझ की कमी है, किस्मत का ढलता सितारा,

कांपते हाथों से दस्तखित सौदे के पर्चों का पल पल घूमे नज़ारा,

रत्तीभर मुनाफे में बेचा है मैंने कल, अपने कलेजे का टुकड़ा अनमन!

चाहूँ मै उड़ना, उसके लिए पर, पर मांगें पैसे, पैसे की अस्फुट उलझन!

पल में बदलते इरादों-विचारों से भरा गया मेरी कल्पना का पिटारा,
चाहत है बढती नयी निर्मिती की, अब तो मुझे रतजगे भी गवारा,
प्यास और भूख नहीं, पहेली के हल का कहीं तो मिले इक इशारा,
इनामी भंवर में फंसा बावरा मन आतुर है, जल्द हो सौदा दोबारा,
किसी की अमानत बनेगा फिर, जटिल जतन से हुए सुमन का सृजन!
चाहूँ मै उड़ना, उसके लिए पर, पर मांगें पैसे, पैसे की अस्फुट उलझन!

असमंजस की आंधी में बंजर है, सपनों से सींचा, उर्वर मनीषी उपवन!
चाहूँ मै उड़ना, उसके लिए पर, पर मांगें पैसे, पैसे की अस्फुट उलझन!

Luck By Chance

2011-03-16T16:25:00.003+05:30

The havoc wreaked by the recent Tsunamis in Japan has made me re-live the horror of 2004 and brought back to memory many of the related incidents. One such sad incident involved an ill-fated police inspector of bad repute who was amazed by the extensive low tide and rushed to explore the newly exposed sands for pearl shells on his new bike. That became his last journey as he was surrounded by many feet high mud springs splattering from underneath the sand and that was the last time he was seen. There was another man of similar repute on another island with a better(?) fate...

He was known to one and all as 'Raghu's Father' in the nondescript town of Shivpur. Raghu was still a middle school student while his friends were about to complete their schooling and was better known as a notorious character. Not every one was known by his children's names in Shivpur. It depended on who, the father or the son, was known more.

Raghu's father was a lineman in the electricity department and his job ensured that local drink 'Handiya' never ran out of supply for him. He made the best use of his wages by keeping himself drunk day in and day out. He was the last person to be called in case of any line faults as no one wanted to put his life in danger. Sooner than later it started creating problems, especially when he was the only lineman on duty at night and a minor rainstorm disrupted the town's power supply. Complaints against him started escalating and he was eventually punished by being transferred to a remote island of Kanata with a population count of double digits. Some suspected that this disciplinary action was a boon in disguise for him as it gave him the opportunity to drink more freely and frequently.

Almost all of the houses on the Kanata Island were beach facing and presented an exotic sea view. This arrangement was for rather practical than aesthetic reasons. The land was flat for a few meters along the shore and the rest of the island was hilly. There was a dispensary atop the hill and a single narrow winding road led to it. A huge party was held there on Christmas night and people returned home at midnight, heavily inebriated. The compounder had to stay behind as the Engineer Sahib was taken ill after the heavy bout of drinking. Power supply was disrupted at three in the morning and by five all the candles were exhausted. It was now that the compounder started for lineman's house. He had a very tough time waking him up and it was already six by the time they could start back for the dispensary. The compounder was still wondering how he could manage to wake up the drunk lineman.

Suddenly there was a huge roar. The compounder thought he was hit on head by the drunk man. The drunk man thought he was dreaming. The roar continued and appeared to be approaching near. The compounder turned behind to see a huge wall of water approaching and he froze. It was now the turn of the drunk man to turn back and see his house being engulfed in water along with everybody else's. For a fraction of second he thought he saw a couple of souls trying to run away from water and failing to do so. He shook the frozen compounder by the shoulder and both of them started running frantically towards the dispensary. When they looked back the next time, it appeared that they had landed on a new island which seemed to have suddenly risen above the sea waters. There was no sight of the till now existing civilization.

The news of Kanata's destruction reached Shivpur after four days. By that time, every one had already assumed that not a single soul would have survived there. There was mourning at Raghu's house and people were already discussing who should take up the job that will be offered on compassionate grounds. Some rooted for his mother taking up the work, others supported Raghu. But everyone was generally relieved that the family could finally get rid of the drunkard. It was a scene of mixed emotions.

Soon it was first January. Unlike previous years, it was a day of despair and mourning. The ten o'clock bus brought an unbelievable piece of news. An engineer, a compounder, a carpenter and a lineman from Shivpur were the only four survivors on the Kanata Island. The crowd started towards Raghu's house with mixed emotions once again. In his mother's own words, 'the Almighty had kept me on slow poison, then he paused only to resume with a higher dose.'

Mahabharata Live

2011-03-11T19:15:00.000+05:30

History: The original version of the Tale of Mahabharata presents a least distorted account of human psychology in a very novel style. It had exposed bare emotions when it was not the norm. It is still not a norm, but that is another thing. A dozen doctorate degrees would not honor its creator enough. It continues to intrigue me as I see its chapters unfolding all the times, all around.

Mahabharata Live!

As a teacher publishes a pupil's thesis in his name,
As a reportee bears the brunt of his boss' shame,
As a factory effluents poison the rural resources,
As a man is blinded, misled at bigoted discourses,
As an offical deducts share from a poor's food,
As a hawker is shooed away in a tone very rude,
As facts are veiled to nip competition in bud,
As intellectuals get engrossed in slinging mud...

Compassion is killed, ethics are omitted,
A Drona is created, an Eklavya is cheated,
An Arjun is exalted, a Karn is defeated,
And The tale of Mahabharata is repeated.

Hum Khwab Dikhane Wale Hain

2011-03-11T18:44:00.009+05:30

Background: This post has been compiled on the earnest request by a politician for his public address.

Politician Speak:

In a world replete with temptation,

I am still accused of corruption;

Adressed to the one who maligns

And will regret lacking political signs,

My emotions are expressed in these lines!

(Hindi Translation)

सोने के प्याले में मोती मिश्रित मद्य मधुर सा लगता है,

फिर भी लगते आरोंपों का यह वेग न थमते दिखता है;

हमे मलिन करने का मंतर, किसी चतुर का लगता है,

जीवन का परचा पेश करे, यह वीर रस की कविता है,

जिसको पढ़कर सोचोगे, क्यों बने न हम भी नेता हैं!

हम ख्वाब दिखाने वाले हैं

कुछ पगले पूछें, दुनिया से क्या लेकर जाने वाले हैं,

उन्हें बता दें, हम तो सब कुछ यहीं उड़ाने वाले हैं,

जो बच जाये, नौ पुश्तों के नाम कराने वाले हैं,

वो भाव पूछने वाले हैं, हम रूप परखने वाले हैं,

वो ख्वाब देखने वाले हैं, हम ख्वाब दिखाने वाले हैं!

वो सूखी रोटी खाते हैं, अपने पकवान निराले हैं,

वो मीलों पानी को तरसें, अपने मदिरा के प्याले हैं,

उनके पैरों में छाले हैं, हम उड़न खटोलों वाले हैं,

वो कतार में लगते हैं, हम भीड़ जुटाने वाले हैं,

वो ख्वाब देखने वाले हैं, हम ख्वाब दिखाने वाले!

उनके कपड़े साल पुराने, हम गाड़ी रोज़ बदल डाले हैं,

उनका कोई इलाज नहीं, हम प्लास्टिक सर्जरी कराले हैं,

उनका कोई अस्तित्व नहीं, अपने तो बने देवालय हैं,

वो मंच सजाने वाले हैं, हम रिब्बन काटने वाले है,

वो ख्वाब देखने वाले हैं, हम ख्वाब दिखाने वाले हैं!

उनको दुख-दर्द सताते हैं, हम जीवन का लुत्फ़ उठाते हैं,

वो मर-मर के जी पाते हैं, हम मरे भी अमर हो जाते हैं!

Biwi No 1

2011-03-04T17:16:00.005+05:30

What a Dream: Reading newspaper just before going to bed has unusual effects and last night was no different for me. I watched Biwi No 1 on the silverscreen of my dreams with a rather meaningful song.

Biwi No 1

Opposition है, court है, बढ़ता media pressure,

India भूल जाए सब, कुछ ऐसा जादू कर!

घबराने की क्या बात है, जब हाथ में है दफ्तर,

Caesar की बीवी होने का, चलाता जा चक्कर!

CGV में क्या है, दलदल,

मच्छर भी छाए हैं, हरपल

2G की रिश्वत लूं, ले ले,

ओ मै तो यही चाहती हूँ,

Inflation का आलम, JPC आये है,

हम दोनों को corruption की बदनामी खाए है,

Radia तो इक खच्चर है, और Raja है अजगर!

Caesar की बीवी होने का, चलाता जा चक्कर!

तेरी कुर्सी मैं ले लूं, ले ले,

बाबा को दे दूं, दे दे,

वादा तो दे जा, दीया,

थर-थर कापें है जीया|

कलमूहे का इशारा, PM पे आ गया है,

अदालत का फरमान, Thomas भी चला गया है,

Impeach करा दूं judges को, तू दे दे बस लिखकर!

Caesar की बीवी होने का, चलाता जा चक्कर!

Opposition है, court है, बढ़ता media pressure,

India भूल जाए सब, कुछ ऐसा जादू कर!

घबराने की क्या बात है, जब हाथ में है दफ्तर,

Caesar की बीवी होने का, चलाता जा चक्कर!

Credits: The caricatures have been drawn by reputed artists and were available online. These have been merely displayed here and might be subject to copyright.

Khoon Ki Pyaas

2010-11-19T14:06:00.000+05:30

Milieu: It was my first unaccompanied travel by train and I was flipping through the pages of India Today to break the monotony of snores and jerks and rhythm of wheels. Godhara riots were on and the magazine was full of reports filled with gory details of the numb and cold strategies homo sapiens were devising to render each other numb and cold. My saddended faculties reached saturation and shot back and I ended penning down these lines on the editorial page.

खून की प्यास

कितने प्राणों की आस यह, ईश स्वरुप मानव की काया,
क्षणभर में तू फूंक इसे दे, ग्रंथों ने क्या यही सिखाया?
अपनों को ही समझ पराया, आँख मूँद संहार कराया,
मृत प्रज्ञा ने तेरी क्या, रब-रहीम में अंतर पाया?

इंसा ही इंसा को डसता , क्षीण अनोखे बंधन करता,
नफ़रत की ज्वाला में जलता, खो बैठा अपनी मानवता,
मार-काट, लूट-पाट, कपट-द्वेष-अत्याचार का तांडव रचता,
निर्मम ह्रदय प्रदर्शित करता, अपनी बेहद बर्बर क्षमता|

तलवार थामते तेरे हाथ, क्या कोमल कौर चख पाएंगे?
चीत्कार से छलनी कान, क्या संगीत सुरूर कर पाएंगे?
चंचल बालक, मासुम करतब, क्या मुस्कान तुम्हारी लौटाएंगे?
बहता खून, जमते आंसूं, तुमको जीवन पर्यंत सतायेंगे,

जागते चक्षु, सोते स्वपन, तुम्हारे काल दृश्य दोहराएंगे|

My Favourite Student

2010-08-18T16:01:00.000+05:30

Manu stared at his wife of three weeks, 'Are you crazy?' Sejal refused to be cowed down, 'Come in the afternoon and see for yourself.'

Thus started the best chapter of English literature course of the bright student, whom I was trying to help with. It appeared to be a very simple conversation to me. I was spell bound by his interpretation of the above lines and could not stop laughing out very very loud. Poor chap, very much aware of the social developments of the time, he interpreted it much deeper than the best teacher of literature.

'Manu' was pronounced 'Mannu' as he believed this name was inspired by the daily heard nick-name of our Prime Minister. 'Wife of three weeks' was interpreted to mean that this couple was married for just three weeks and now fighting for divorce. 'Stared' was believed to have had something to do with a staircase. Both of these interpretations seemed inspired by the much savoured Rahul-Dimpy saga. The poor chap, now very high on emotions, explained to me, 'As they were fighting for divorce, Mannu pushed his wife whom he had been married for only three weeks, under a staircase out of the house.'

He went on to explain, 'Mannu shouted, are you greedy?' Now I was truly puzzled about the greedy part. He explained, 'Look, kids are crazy for chocolate, that means kids are greedy for chocolates! And greedy fits just right into this context of their fight'. I could only utter, 'Wonderful, please carry on.'

He read aloud followed by his interpretation, 'Sejal refused to be co-wed down. Even though Mannu was accusing her, Sejal refused to be married to him any more, co-wed, you see. She even threatened him that the repercussions of his pushing her under the staircase would be reverberating all over by the afternoon for every one to hear and see!'

I could not help him more on this chapter. I felt ashamed of my hollow interpretations. This kid truly thought out of the box, I mean the idiot box! Teaching would be best the profession on earth if half of your class is half as hilarious as him. I am eagerly looking forward to his interpretations in the next class.

Hindsight...

2010-08-17T19:51:00.001+05:30

There he was, dying. Doctors had lost all hope. They had given him a best case time frame of four months. I did not want to believe them. I hoped against hopes that a miracle would happen soon with the discovery of a life saving procedure. Daily, I browsed through a variety of resources to find any alternative cure for him. I wanted him to live, not because I needed his company, but because he loved life.

I started cooking routinely without making a mental note that it would be his turn to cook next. We started going out for movies more often and yet I compared him less often to the on-screen romanticists. I started buying small gifts for him without even thinking of a getting a return gift. I spent two whole days planning for his birthday. Strange enough, this time my plans were not affected by his efforts or lack of it for planning my last birthday.

I hated his buddies less and they started seeing him more often. Our home teemed with more fun and laughter now. I stopped asking our little son about whom he loved more. I started forgetting on what he had said on which occasion about whom in my family. May be I was not left with any time to do this amidst visits to hospitals and vacations. The purpose of my life seemed to find a cure for him. I even bargained in my prayers, that almighty, please let him live, even if that meant taking him away from me or our son not looking after me when I grew old and weak.

As I look back today, I find that those two months were the only time in the ten years spent together when I cared for him or anyone in the world for that matter ever, without any expectations. Strangely, that was the only time when my mind was at its peacest, even though dark shadows loomed viciously close-by. That was the only time when give and take had lesser meaning in my life. I was leading a life free of calculations. Those were the only two months when I was truly in love.

It hurts

2010-08-17T17:42:00.000+05:30

Walking around with eyes open, I am constantly reminded of what Faiz Ahmed Faiz had once said,

'Aur bhi dukh hain zamaane mein mohabbat ke siva,

Raahaten aur bhi hain vasl ki raahat ke siva.'

It hurts

It hurts
To see a young Rickshaw-puller's palms smeared with blood,
As he holds the note with fingertips to keep it clean,
To spend it later at the local beer shop located at the corner of the road.

It hurts
When the fruit seller shoos off the old lady with choicest curses,
For begging for a single discarded rotten apple from his tray,
For her sick little grandson for the lack of money.

It hurts
To see the uncovered, month-old infants of the labourer women,
Peacefully resting on jagged sheets of cloth on the heaps of sand,
In the scorching summers and the freezing winters.

It hurts,
To get the broadest grin of gratefulness from the urchin with tangled hair,
On handing him a box of sweets filled with ants a week after Diwali,
Which he shares generously with his big famished family soon after.

It hurts,
When the ten year old skinny helper boy of the fat shopkeeper,
Carries the can filled with water weighing just a little less than him,
To my second floor flat and rushes back happily humming a tune.

It hurts...

Aj Aakhan Paul Octopus Noo

2010-08-01T02:11:00.000+05:30

This is my humblest attempt at brazenly copying the great Amrita Pritam's cult poem 'Aj Aakhan Waris Shah Noo'. With all apologies to both the great poets, I proceed to ride on the Oracle Octopus' waves...

अज कहती हूँ Paul Octopus से,
अपने टैंक में से बोलो,
और भावी भारत की
हालत का राज़ खोलो |

इक FIFA की जंग के वस्ते,
तूने बता दी जीत और हार,
अज सैंकड़ों जंग से झूझते
वासी, तुम्हे लगाते हैं गुहार...

ऐ सच्चे खिलाडियों के यार,
सुन लो हम लोगों की पुकार,
जंगल में लूटें माओ-वादी,
शहरों में मारें आतंक-वादी.

पश्चिम से पूरब, दाख्खिन से उत्तर,
सीमा के अन्दर, सीमा से बाहर,
सब इंसानियत भूल गए हैं,
राजनीती की होड़ में जुड़ गए हैं |

भ्रष्ट नेता, भ्रष्ट कर्मचारी,
बढ़ रही हर ओर भूख और बीमारी,
जलते किसान, तड़पते भिखारी,
वादे आलीशान, इरादे दुराचारी |

अज सब मनु-राजू बन गए हैं,
वतन-अमन-ईमान के चोर,
सलाखों से बहार आने को,
जो रोज़ लगायें नए जोर |

अब कहती हूँ Paul Octopus से,
अपने टैंक में से बोलो,
और भावी भारत कि
हालत का राज़ खोलो |

Chirag Tale Andhera

2010-05-21T19:02:00.002+05:30

Adjacent to the Laburnum is the most talked about house occupied by the most status family in the street. Everyone holds the posh doctor and scientist couple in great awe. I always imagine seeing a halo of sophistication and modernity emanating from their persona. Almost all of my madamjis regularly prod me for the latest happenings from this household. After all, we enjoy the coveted status of gossipmongers amongst these high-fi Saabs and Sahibaas. These people na, I tell you, they are always busy in their aping business! What is the new design she is wearing, what is the new gadget they are buying, what was the level of her kitty party, these are the standard topics of their sub-standard discussions, yes sub-standard even by my standards! Even small people like us discuss national problems like Karnataka floods and Kalahandi droughts, may be because majority of the affected folks there belong to our class.

Today morning, as I was about the start my routine work at the house, I notice the car entering the portico with Doctor Saab at the wheels. He opens the door for the other two eerie creatures inside. I am shocked to find him escorting the two attired in discoloured ochre robes inside the house. Their overflowing beards remind me of the story of birds building nests in an ascetic's beards. Their wide foreheads are adorned with some kind of ash and their bulging eyes are fiery red. Doctor Saab had told me one fine day that this happens due to over drinking over a prolonged period of time. Strings of wrinkled beads hang loosely around their necks. As I stare incredulously at the thick bouquet of brilliant blue peacock plumes they are waving at no one in particular, Saab orders me to bend down and touch their feet as a mark of respect. I hurriedly obey him and rush out of the hall confused. I notice other madamjis giving each other confused glances and wry smiles from the balconies of their houses.

In the afternoon, Kutte-wali madamji summons me suggestively, 'Sakku, what was going on at Doctor Saab's place in the morning?'

I reply, 'Saab's little daughter is suffering from jaundice, unhone jhada lagwaya tha.'

Kutte-wali madamji gets interested, 'Arey baap re, jhada! Can you detail me on the jhada process?'

I describe, 'The guest room was filled with suffocating Hawan ka Dhuan and Gudiya was made to sit in the centre of the room. Then she was bathed in honey, milk and oil. All through this, she was constantly being hit by the peacock plumes on head and back. I got a back-ache cleaning up the mess afterwards!'

Kutte-wali madamji goes hysterical, 'Hai Rabba, Doctors also started believing in jhaad-phoonk! Medical Science is on real decline! I availed this doctor's services for my son's jaundice treatment two years back! Hey Rabba, please take care of my little son!'

Then she goes on to call other madamjis one by one for breaking this news with quite a spicy contribution from her own side. Though she hardly takes notice of my plight at her house, today she ostensibly sympathizes with my back-ache just to disgrace the scientist madam.

The other Saturday, I happen to reach Doctor Saab's house an hour earlier. I am curious to find a Shani Dev wrapped in white clothes waiting at the gate. I am about to ask him to leave when Scientist madam signals me from balcony to wait outside quietly. In the meanwhile, Shani Dev replaces the shriveled nimbu-mirchi at the gate with fresh one. I realize that this household task, like most others, has also been outsourced. I see Doctor Saab coming down the driveway. At some distance from the gate, he removes his sandals and washes his hands and feet. Now he walks up to the Shani Dev bare feet, balances himself on left leg with right leg twisting around the former, he resembles the meditating Dhruv now, supports the right elbow with left palm, closes his eyes, bows his head, mutters a few inaudible shlokas and offers oil to Shani Dev's bucket with his right hand. This is followed by an offering of hundred bucks. God, how Saab haggles not to pay me for the few days I fall sick! I really envy Shani Dev. I am seriously thinking of changing my job and becoming some Weekly Devi!

Watching this, I am reminded of how scientist madam stops her kids from leaving the house if the feeblest of a distant sneeze manage to vibrate her sensitive ear drums. Then she makes them wash hands and feet, sit down, drink water and recite a few shlokas. I am the illiterate maid here, I am supposed to be superstitious as per my children's lessons, but I am not as much. May be she cares more for her kids' well-being. Whatever, I am no more euphoric about working at her place as I keep on getting reminded of my dreaded mother-in-law's taunting proverb, Chirag Tale Andhera!

Naam Ka Gulaam

2010-05-17T19:59:00.004+05:30

पहला दृश्य

आस्था चैनल पर प्रसारित सनसनी-खेज़ कार्यकर्म मंथन स्वामीजी के प्राण सुखा देता है | घोर विपदा में घिरे स्वामीजी संकट-मोचन को गुहार लगाते हैं | संकट-मोचन उन्हें समझाते हैं कि भारत परम्पराओं और संस्कारों की भूमि है | सांस्कृतिक गौरव के हित में अत्यंत अधर्म सर्वोपरि धर्म बन जाता है | उन्हें निष्कलंक भाव से मूल्यों का आह्वान करना चाहिए |

दूसरा दृश्य

"टीवी और रेडियो सेट पर मुझे देख-सुन रहे देश-वासी बहिनों, माताओं, बेटीओं एवम बंधुयों,

मैं, उस परम-पिता का तुच्छ सेवक, सदैव आप लोगों की उन्नति एवं ख़ुशी की प्रार्थना करता हूँ; आप सभी की असीम कृपा का पात्र, आप लोगों को कृतज्ञ नमन करता हूँ|

पत्रकार देवियों एवं सज्जनों,

मैं आप लोगों का तहे-दिल से शुक्र-गुज़ार हूँ कि पिछले हफ्ते की निकृष्ट सूचनाओं के बावज़ूद आप लोगों ने मेरे प्रेस समेल्लन के आमंत्रण को स्वीकार किया और मुझ दीन को अपने प्रिय देश-वासियों के समक्ष अपना पक्ष रखने का अवसर दिया है| आप सभी से सविनय आग्रह है कि इसके पूर्व कि मैं कुछ कहूं, आप लोग मेरे कुछ प्रशनों का उत्तर दे मुझे कृतार्थ करें| क्या आपको यह आग्रह स्वीकार्य है?"

"हाँ, हमे मंज़ूर है|"

"जी शुक्रिया! आप धन्य हैं!"

प्रo (अति विनम्र) : हे बंधू, जी हाँ, नवजागरण से आये मेरे प्रिय बंधुवर, आपका नाम क्या है?

उo (तटस्थ) : चिराग|

प्रo: चिराग जी, आपका नामकरण किसने किया?

उo: मेरे डैडी ने|

प्रo: इस नामकरण का कोई प्रयोजन?
उo (गर्वित) : मेरे डैडी चाहते थे कि मैं पढ़-लिख कर चारों तरफ उजाला करूं|
(पत्रकार समूह खिलखिला उठता है)
प्रo (प्रसन्न) : अति उच्च विचार! चिराग जी, क्या आपने उनके स्वपन को साकार करने का कोई प्रयास किया है?
उo: जी हाँ, मैं इसी लिए जर्नलिस्ट बना!

प्रo: अतियोत्तम! क्या आप लोग सभी चिराग जी की भावनाओं से सहमती रखते हैं कि इस बदलते भारतीय परिवेश में भी माता-पिता की इच्छा सर्वोपरि एवं सम्माननीय है?
कुछ उo: हाँ|
कुछ उo (उग्र) : नहीं|

प्रo (शांत) : मान लीजिये, एक परिवार में दो पुत्र हैं, राम और शाम| एक ओर राम अपने परिवार की मर्यादा का पालन करता है और अपने पिता को पूज्य मानता है, दूसरी ओर शाम अपने बूढ़े पिता को घर से निकाल देता है| जिनका उत्तर पिछले प्रशन के लिए नकारात्मक था, मैं उन सज्जनों से पूछना चाहता हूँ कि आप इन दोनों पुत्रों में से किसकी वकालत करेंगे?
उo: राम की|

प्रo: शुक्रिया, आप धन्य हैं| क्या आप मेरा नाम जानते हैं?
उo (उपहासित) : ओब्विअसली, आप हैं आचार्य कामधेनु कल्पतरु चिरानंद संत दास!

प्रo (कृतकृत्य) : ये सम्मान तो आप लोगों की मेरे प्रति वृहत हृदय दृष्टि है, मेरे पूज्य पिताश्री ने तो मुझे मात्र चिरानंद दास की संज्ञा दी है| चिर शब्द की परिभाषा दें!
उo: कपड़े, क्लोद्स|
प्रo: आपकी परिभाषा सही है, यह आप कैसे कह सकते हैं?
उo (दम्भी ) : कल ही मैंने द्रौपदी समान आपके चीरहरण का एपिसोड अपने चैनल पर ऐंकर किया था|
(ठहाकों और तालियों की गडगडाहट से हॉल गूँज उठता है)

प्रo (प्रशांत): बालक, वस्त्र का पर्याय चीर है, चिर नहीं| क्या कोई और सज्जन चिर शब्द के अर्थ को प्रकाशित करना चाहेंगे?
उo: चिर मतलब लौंग, ऑलवेज़, जैसे चिरायु|
प्रo (प्रसन्न) : अति सुन्दर, जैसे चिरायु, चिराग इत्यादि| क्या आप दास शब्द को परिभाषित कर सकते हैं?
उo: गुलाम, सेवक!

प्रo (हर्षित) : धन्यवाद! आपके सहयोग से मैं अपने नाम की परिभाषा दे सकता हूँ| मेरे नाम का अर्थ है एक ऐसा सेवक जो सदैव आनंदित करे| मेरे प्रत्येक कार्य में यही भाव समाहित हैं| अपने नाम, पिताश्री और भक्तों का परम सेवक, मैं उनकी प्रत्येक इच्छा पूर्ण कर उन्हें आनंदित करना चाहता हूँ, चाहे किसी चिराग की भांति मुझे खुद क्यों न जलना पड़े| मुझे आप लोगों से सिर्फ यही कहना था| अब आप चाहें तो मुझे सूली पर चढ़ा दें, आपके इस तुच्छ दास को जनाधिकार सम्मत है|

तीसरा दृश्य

सभी श्रोता अत्यंत भावुक हो उठते हैं, सभी अपनी अवहेलना पर लज्जित हैं, कुछ अपने पिता की, कुछ आचार्य जी की | सभा में उपस्थित चेले चारों दिशाओं को महान आचार्य कामधेनु कल्पतरु चिरानंद संत दास की जयजयकार से गूंजा देते हैं | इसी बीच कुछ दूरदर्शी आचार्यजी की चरण धूलि के लिए अग्रसर होतें हैं |शेष अज्ञानी उनके पीछे दौड़ पड़ते हैं और भगदड़ मच जाती है | सम्पूर्ण देशवासी भावना की इस गंगा में स्नान करने लगते हैं | भगदड़ में मारे गए लोगों को आचार्य के चरणों में मोक्ष की प्राप्ति हो जाती है | आज स्तिथि यह है कि एक ओर हर माह अनावृत होते नए आश्रम भी आचार्य के शिष्यों के उफनते सागर को समाहित नहीं कर पाते | दूसरी ओर दक्षिणा-पूरित आचार्य कोष द्रौपदी के अक्षय पात्र को मात देते हुए आचार्य और उनके कुल कि मर्यादा को कायम रखता है |

The Star-Crossed Feast

2010-05-12T14:47:00.005+05:30

They were the new joinees. Fresh out of small towns' big colleges. Put up at The Grand Opulence, a five star, at the request of their company. They had stayed up at many regular hotels and guest houses, but not at a starred place before. Twinkle was wondering, grammar is asterisked in TOI editorials these days, is the hotel name asterisked in the same sense. The twin sharing standard room was just acceptable. There was hardly any floor space left by the bed and the table and they had to tread carefully to avoid bumping into each other. The balcony ended before starting. There was an extended debate on the utility of the glass wall separating the bathroom. The conclusion was that it allowed one to enjoy the TV and the steaming bathtub simultaneously after a long tiring day.

The only other apparent luxury was the fully loaded mini bar the room boasted of. The elegant baby fridge spread a sumptuous treat for the souls famished from the long journey. There were honey roasted almonds imported from Virginia, Evian natural mineral water sourced from the pristine French Alps and layered Ferrero Rochers clad in inviting golden wrappers apart from the regular juices, wafers and biscuits. Moreover, the imported range of hard drinks was too tempting. Both of them were too tired to go out, they didn't even know of a reasonable place to dine at. Priced at two days' salary, the Opulence dinner was unthinkable of. Twinkle attacked the mini bar at full throttle and convinced Sonnet to follow her. Unsure of the hangover duration, they spared the hard drinks that night.

The delighted ladies now started exploring the room for other hidden treasures. Twinkle found a file inside the digital safe. They wondered if it contained the clues to assist them in their other discoveries. It had a sheet inside titled 'Mini Bar Rate List' and Twinkle's jaws dropped at its sight. The exorbitant three and higher digit numbers mentioned against the savoured goodies punched her real hard in the stomach and out came everything in a highly amalgamated state. It was a classic cultural shock!

The misplaced rate card appeared to be the mischief of the earlier occupant who had similarly burned his fingers. Sonnet was upset but her brain was working fast. She suggested replacement of the mini bar contents. What a superb idea Sirji! They ransacked the dustbins for all the dumped wrappers and packets. Smoothing the crinkled wrappers, they copied the brand names, flavor, size, quantity, date of manufacture, colour, everything except the bar codes on another piece of paper. Twinkle could now empathize with a simple friend who had once mistaken the finger bowl for nimbu paani and was made butt of all jokes thereafter!

Next morning, they left for the office putting on the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on their door. It was tough to focus on the slides while they googled for malls, departmental stores, markets in the city. Twinkle feigned vertigo at noon and Sonnet immediately offered to help her back to the hotel. They gathered almost everything after a search extending over six hours except for a particular sized pack of Ferrero Rochers.

Staying at starred locations has become a routine for them but the ghost of the goodies still haunts them. They do not fail to call up the room service to confirm if the complimentary water and tea/coffee sachets are indeed complimentary. Twinkle barely manages to control her impulse to scribble all over the rooms 'Beware, Nothing In Here Is For Free!'.

Oracle

2010-05-11T19:54:00.004+05:30

'Aliya hasn't come in. It is possible that she missed the bus. It is time for the second bus now. Is she coming by it today? Why am I thinking about her? Am I missing her? Can't be sure. I am harbouring this strange feeling deep inside. She might be just down with fever. No, that can't be, she has not called up sick. Shall I check with her right away? No, no, that is unthinkable, she might not like it. What will she think about me? Shall I ask these people here? They are a bunch of hags. They will taunt me and tease her. Now that's an absolute no. They brag about being her good friends. Why can't they call her to check. No one seems to be bothered about her absence, why I am? I pray there is no connection...'

'Pranav, you are pale, it looks like you just had a daymare!'

'What an observation my wicked Manu, A day without Aliya is only fit to be a daymare!'
'Yeah Manu, you are on the mark, a working Monday morning is a real daymare!'

'Buddy, do I smell the agony of Aliya's absence on your hollow voice?'

'What a prying buffoon you are, I thought only scientists specialized in mind reading!'
'Isn't Aliya in, you must be joking! Anyways what brings the great Manu to this no-man's service?'

'The bleeding eyes of my no-man! By the way, don't fail to notice Aliya's name engraved on a tender leaf of the office grapevine? Have an exciting day ahead! Ciao!'

'You bloody tormentor, may you rot in hell forever for your evasive gimmicks! '
'I will need to borrow the set of your super sensitive antennae for that!'

'Your gory remarks and gruesome silence gust off the last wafts of my sanity! Why do you shut up when you should be talking and vice versa?'

'What could Manu imply...Goodness, is Aliya getting engaged? That does not sound even remotely related...she would have at least announced it...I hope she is doing fine. She has not come in by the second bus also. She is a good enough candidate for my mom and I think I am equally good for her family. Why am I thinking on these lines out of the blue today, what's wrong with me? Someone, please have pity on my tormented soul.'

'Here comes the shrewd Anjan, finally my prayers have been answered!'

'Welcome Anjan, how are you doing?'

'Not so bad Pranav! It seems you were waiting for me!'

'Are my thoughts flashing in bold letters on my forehead today?'
'No Ways, I mean you are always welcome, what's up?'

'Today no one is working except for you, isn't that so unlike the other days?'

'See who is saying what!'
'Come on, stop excruciating me. I implore upon you for some fresh berries from the grapevine!'

'Are you drunk on William Wordsworth today? You are aware that I have always been poetically challenged!'

'Anjan, no wonders that you are called the meanest shark in the bureau ocean! But I won't be lily-livered and ask you directly.'
'All right, why has Aliya not come in today?'

'Ah, I must say, she should come in less often so that my folks get an opportunity to focus more on their assignments!'

'Go off before I kill you!'

'Take it easy Pranav or you will die of a hemorrhage, I was kidding! Byeos'

'He is also going back after rubbing salt on my burning nerves.'

'Hey Pranav, looks like you have been stabbed, I had some news for you.'

'What a fateful day, I will have to endure the stalker today!'
'Hello Maya, Monday morning blues. I am all ears!'

'Are you aware of what transpired to Aliya?'

'No.'

'That's why you are idling out here. There seems to be some problem at her home.'

'Please, carry on... Please.'

'All right, I will detail you on the events, but any guesses?'

'#$&*@!^%'
'Her mom's hubby ran off with all the money?'

'When will you stop lying to me Pranav dear, you already know everything.'

'Maya, I beg you to spare me the suspense, I swear I am absolutely clueless of any and every thing about Aliya. That was just an irritated response!'

'Oh my poor baby, you guessed it just right. It's sad, but it's the truth.'

'That's terrible! I had not expected the prophetic vision to come true like this. This has happened to me once again. I can't trust myself. The boundary between facts and fantasies is dissolving. I have to struggle to ward off my silly thoughts. Well, there is no explanation, no theorem to define these coincidences. I can't bear the weight of vision. I can't afford to lose the power of vision. A metamorphosis is taking place...'

'Manu, help! The shocking revelation about Aliya's has collapsed Pranav into a delirium. Someone please call for the ambulance!'

'Maya, Manu, Congratulations! I see the pot bellied solemnizing your wedding!'

'Manu, please do something to save our Pranav, please do something...'

Memoirs Of A Family

2010-05-06T16:45:00.009+05:30

Pa (panting) : Be hot on the heels of the porter jostling his way around the swelling crowds of the Chennai Central and hopefully we will make it to our coach in time.

Ma (relieved) : Thank God, we have managed to land onto our berths in this nondescript coach of the TN Express. I will now secure the bags with that chain and the lock.

Pa (taking a look around) : We are bound for Delhi, how about you?

Gentleman (smiling) : Ditto!

Pa (excited) : I am happy to learn that we are to share this compartment with your family. Arey bitiya rani, you look very sweet, what's your good name?

The sweet little girl smiles and hides behind her mother's translucent dupatta.

Lady (patronizing) : Beta, Uncle wants to know your sweet name, don't be shy!

The little girl jumps onto her mother's lap and keeps smiling.

Lady : Her name is Mrinal. You will be introduced to her true self within five minutes.

I : Mrinal, beautifully delicate name, suits her completely. Mrinal, (offering a handshake), friends?

Mrinal (Returning the handshake timidly) : Yes didi, we will be friends, but on one condition; I will be your only best friend, agreed?

I (happily) : Yes, yes, yes, Mrinal! You are my only best friend. Thank you sweetie! How old are you, are you in school already?

Mrinal (jumping with joy on my lap) : Am three old. My school is LKG.

Lady (smiling) : Now she will be your headache till Delhi, I am sure she won't come over to her parents now.

I (grinning) : I will be grateful for her company till Delhi. And I will miss her after that! Are you returning from a trip to Chennai or going on a trip to Delhi?

Lady (a little upset) : Yeah, it was a medical trip to Chennai.

I (with a start, gulping) : Oh, were you on a visit to Shankar Nethryalaya?

Lady : Yes.

Pa (perturbed) : Even we were on a visit to Shankar Nethryalaya!

Tentacles of the saga of pain and suffering, hope and wait, weave an instant web of camaraderie between the two families.

Pa (grimly) : I had almost lost the vision in an eye to steroid overdose at the hands of a negligent doctor in a distant town. May we hear your tragedy?

Gentleman (smiling) : It is long tale of fate, you might be bored to hear.
Pa (hurt) : No Sir, please don't think so, I see you as a brother in agony.
Gentleman (nostalgic) : I was a CA meticulously auditing the dirty accounts of the jazzy firms in Delhi. Mrinal had just completed her six months. We three were a contented family. Then one day I was admitted to a nursing home with a stomach infection. I recovered in a couple of days and was discharged. A week after, itchy rashes started appearing on my skin covering me from head to toe in a matter of a few hours and I was left blinded and gasping for breath. It was discovered I was allergic to the antibiotics administered for the stomach infection. I was recuperating  in an ICU for a fortnight. I was told that every inch of my skin will heel back to normal except for the cornea and retina of the eyes. Specialists at AIIMS advised me to pray and learn Braille. My wife broke down. As soon as I was declared out of danger, she composed herself and took me to the consecrated thresholds of the Shankar Nethralaya.
         After a treatment for five months, on Mrinal's first birthday, doctors declared that there was hope for me and after a couple of surgeries I would be able to see Mrinal's cherubic face by her second birthday.

I used to think that ours was the most tragic tale, but his words made me realize that it is easy to find someone who is in a worse situation. I was grateful for being better fated than this family.

Pa (in a teary voice) : How is your vision now, Sir?
Gentleman (happily) : I can walk inside my house and complete routine activities without any help now. I am happy I don't need to use my walking stick anymore.

I clearly notice that his voice does not ask for sympathy, does not sound complaining, instead it sounds inspiring. The train is crossing vast green wavy paddy fields.  Mrinal is excited at the surreal sight.

Mrinal (clapping and dancing) :  Oh these green waves look so similar to the blue waves at the Marina beach! We are sailing through a green sea, it is rising, it is falling, Mrinal is enjoying. (After some time) Didi, the sea is vast, let's play something. Let's play Mummy and Baby. Who will be the mummy, you want to be the mummy or the baby?
I (thoroughly pleased) : I don't know how to play mummy, Shall I be the baby?
Mrinal (nodding) : Yes, that will be good. I am a very good mummy. I will call you my Babu. Ok Babu, go to sleep now. Mummy will wake you up in the morning.

Mrinal wakes up her Babu, brushes her teeth, bathes her, dresses her, serves her breakfast and then drops her to school. In the meanwhile she goes out for shopping and buys a new frock. Then she picks up her Babu from school, gifts her the new frock, helps her with homework, prepares dinner for her and again puts her to sleep with a very very sweet cradlesong, 'tujhme rab dikhta hai, babu mai kya karoon, sajde sir jhukta hai, babu mai karoon'.

I (talking to myself) : I am delighted at the innocent pampering. I am looking forward to being woken up by Mrinal again after five minutes.
Pa (concerned) : Sir, how are your finances being taken care of these days, I mean is your company helping you?
Gentleman (determined) : Two and half years is too a long time for any company to support. We have started an opticals business which my wife runs and I assist. God is graceful, business is good.

The train stops at Nagpur and I get down to buy ice cream.

Mrinal (innocently) : Babu, get chocolate flavor for your small mummy!
I return with two ice creams and give Mrinal hers.
Gentleman (disapprovingly) : Mrinal, Babu ki pocket pe chunna laga diya na!
Mrinal (lovingly) : Oh where?

And she dusts the imaginary lime powder off my trousers' pockets with her small pink hands. I can't help hugging her for her innocence.

Pa (admiring) : Sir, Mrinal is a cheerful girl and kudos to you both for not letting the tragedy affect her childhood. I can see that she is being brought up in the best manner a child should be. She could not have played a doting mother to a girl twenty years older than her otherwise.
Gentleman (agreeing) : In fact, we get to spend a lot more time together now. It was a mad rush earlier. I would have missed on her growing years if I were a CA still.

I am delightfully amazed by his fighter spirit. I also notice that unless asked for, he does not talk about his illness. He does talk a lot, he talks on politics, weather, cricket, people, like everyone else. Delhi door nahi hai and we are preparing to get down and go on our separate ways.

Mrinal (waving off) : We are going to Bhagalpur next Friday for my aunt's wedding. Babu, we would meet in the train again next week!

All of us burst into a hearty laugh at her innocent comment.

To Sir, With Love

2010-05-05T16:22:00.003+05:30

"Today is the judgement day. The class is unusually silent except for the low hum of the anxious bated breaths. Ms Isha's repeated attempts to make us talk fail like her daily efforts to quieten us. Instead of paper rockets, confused glances are being thrown across. The hour long taciturn suspense being maintained by Ms Isha when the all we are doing is to stare helplessly at her face full of dumbfounded expressions in the backdrop of the blackboard would become an inspiration for the sweet at sixteen Ekta Kapoor's future leading ladies' actions on the idiot box. The spell is eventually broken by the resonance of over fifty bewildered heartbeats threatening to blow up the classroom walls. All but three convicts are handed out their lurid verdicts one by one. 'The three significant verdicts are to be pronounced by Ranjan Sir', conveys Ms Isha.

Ranjan Sir, but why? Ranjan Sir is a busy man, he is the senior most teacher in the school. I think he is a good teacher. His class was lively and fun, he explained through examples, he made us solve problems on the blackboard and never scolded or spanked when we could not. But still, he always wore a grave expression and never smiled and he hardly taught. On most days he had been preoccupied to schedule teachers to engage classes of the absent teachers. I think that made him forget that of all the classes, his own dear class, the fifth standard Maths class, was left unengaged! But did we complain? Of course not! A happy period between the tedious social and dull science periods was a boon straight from the heavens! Yet he had covered eighteen chapters out of the twenty five chapters, a few more than few other teachers who had not missed saying lullabies to us for a single day.

Some of the class who have been pleasantly surprised by the verdicts are getting restless waiting for Ranjan Sir. After all, how long can they wait for their promised gifts of chocolates, new clothes, new toys, etc. Some of the class is praying for him not to turn up for the whole day. The delay is helping to shorten the day and the repercussions of their verdicts back at home. The three of us, though well aware of our verdicts, have stomachs brimming with butterflies at the moment. Finally, after yet another hour's wait, Sir materializes in our classroom and hands out the remaining verdicts. When the roar of claps subsides, Sir begins to address us.

'Congratulations to the fifth class! This year's board included teachers from fifteen schools and the difficulty level was high. This is a great achievement for our school that the entire fifth standard made it to the next with good marks. The Maths paper was the toughest with the best questions from fifteen schools. For the first time in my teaching career, I have seen someone score triple digit marks in this paper. And she is Sandhya! Come over Sandhya, I have got a small gift for you.'

Sir is beaming as he hands me out the envelope with a crisp hundred rupee bill and a hand written congratulatory note inside. I can't believe it. I am super thrilled. I am happy. I am choking. I am all goose bumps. Somehow I manage to utter a feeble thank you."

It has been almost two decades but the happiest moment of my life is still fresh in front of my eyes. I can never forget the smile on Sir's face and the pride in his eyes for his student. I still think twice before gifting one hundred bucks to my near and dear ones. What a noble gesture it was two decades back to reward a student so generously. The noble gift has been a noble impact for me. It has instilled a forever love for Maths in me. It has taught me the profound potential of a genuine reward. It has been my motivator all these years and continue to do so. Yet like that day many many years ago, I am again at loss of words to thank you Ranjan Sir!

What About Us

2010-04-22T17:47:00.005+05:30

Bhojpur lives to its name of the 'City Of Gardens' and 'City Of Education'. There are colleges and gardens all along the winding roads of the city. Many places have even got the honour of hosting colleges before roads. Now colleges and gardens make a great combination as every student will agree. Gardens provide just the right ambience for the progressive research projects actively taken up by the young and curious minds, especially when they outnumber the foot-soldiers of the omnipresent regressive brigade.

The premier institute 'Residuum Olympus of Technology', lovingly called 'The Rot' is located in Bhojpur. Buoyed by their families' sacrificial altars, a few hundred fragile souls swim to its shores every year. Here they are put through a rigorous program specifically designed by the major souls to groom them for facing the cruel world. Clear heads simply call it RP, jokers call it ragging.

As soon as the yoke is lifted off their shoulders, the toughened minor souls start exploring the expanses of 'The Rot' at a trot. They are delightfully surprised to learn that the elaborate screens carved through intricate pierce work of the Mughal era were inspired by the eerie patterns formed by the peeling plasters and crumbling concrete of the walls and roofs of The Rot. Power potholes provide power footholds in the power corridors of The Rot. Once, gripped by her powerful thoughts, my dear friend Sushma succumbed to a power pothole and ended injuring her leg.

As she cried her pain out, a few bright souls wondered aloud why The Rot lacked a technology to see through tissues, decided to work on it and started discussing their modus operandi. A lesser bright soul fetched a bucket full of ice to calm down the leg swelling with anger. Someone fetched the gold medalist Rot doc who specialized in curing people by looking at face. The doc saw the salt lines left behind by the tears on Sushma's face and scornfully suggested application of a couple of ice cubes, both on the spot of injury and on her face. The more experienced interpreted the scorn for us, 'This little birdie must have been somehow spared during the RP'.

It was 9 in the evening, Sushma was still groaning in pain and needed to see a lesser specialized doc who believed in the vision of the X-Ray imageries more than the vision of his own eyes. The major souls, expert at RPs and all the ways of the Rot suggested us to take her to the best and the worst hospital in the city, Government Necrosis Laboratory. GNL is best if you land into its premises with a good recommendation, worst otherwise. They convinced us that the privilege of being The Rot Minors was a solid recommendation in itself.

Now any late evening excursions were forbidden unless accompanied by the Hostel Administrator as per the Rot rules. Again the major souls came to our great rescue by warning us against the stinky Hostel Administrator. He would not grant permission as he was known not to be generous enough to have ever accompanied a single soul to such worthless places like Hospitals. If he agreed now, that would have raised serious doubts on his intentions. After we started of our own, someone was sent to cheekily inform him of the events and he was least bothered as usual.

Guided by the major souls’ blessings, the five of us soon reached the filth filled premises of GNL in an autorikshaw. The sleepy Residents of GNL almost suffered an heart attack on seeing the Rot Minor Brigade. They brashly refused to accept Sushma’s injury to be accidental. They immediately concluded that Sushma was a first year student being ragged by the four of us, whom they branded as the heartless seniors. All of their closed doors investigations on Sushma for the next fifteen minutes failed to nail us. Dejected, they decided to have a look at her injury. It appeared to be a fracture which was confirmed within next fifteen minutes through a cursory analysis of the X-Ray report. Next half an hour was spent on casting her leg in a plaster and everyone was happy to find her relieved at the end of it. We were asked to wait for half an hour more to ostensibly let the cast set properly. Overall, the GNL Residents had provided her with a satisfactory treatment.

It sounds like a happy ending, which was sadly, not the case. We had not realized that used to their private practices during day, the doctors needed the crucial sleep during their night duties at GNL. Now their biological clock was severely disturbed. Not used to strains at night, their brains became super-active. They went to another room and after ten minutes one of them came out to inform us that the GNL Chief Laboratory Officer had called up the Rot Director on the case of ragging and informed him that the victim and the culprits had come to the hospital without any Administrator. The Director had assured him of an immediate corrective action. We interpreted the statement to mean that someone from the Rot would be coming to soon pick us up in the Rot Chariot.

After a futile wait of an hour, the five of us again hired an autorikshaw for our journey back to the Rot campus. What a grand welcome it was! We were received by the entire council of Rot Administrators at the hostel gates and showered with choicest curses, threats and warnings. We found ourselves lucky to see that they had forgotten to bring the bag of abuses along for our welcome.

The day-after papers were devastating for the Rot’s reputation. The GNL CLO had fed the alleged tales of torture at the Rot to the local Piranhas ever hungry for bytes of sensational information. His grave photographs with the evil twinkle in his eyes holding Sushma’s X-Ray report with the fracture highlighted by a red circle accompanied the reports. He was being hailed as the only revolutionary to have come up in the open against the menace of ragging. All the while, people in the city were casually asking why the victim’s and culprits’ photographs were missing from the reports. The calculative CLO knew the reason quite well. The Piranhas would have definitely preferred the delicate smoothness of pretty faces over the oiled smoothness of his bald head, if given a choice. Later, statistics revealed that these reports did wonders to his private practice in the city.

Inside the Rot Campus, the major souls and the hostel administrator had denied having any knowledge of the minor souls’ daring activities. All five of us were made the scapegoats as the Rot administrators fought amongst them-selves to settle the previously unsettled scores. All of them became equally blind to the fact that Sushma’s fracture had indeed needed an immediate attention. The hefty price we paid for the fiasco is better left unsaid. An year after the tragedy, we were shocked to learn that RP is practiced quite sincerely at GNL under the patronage of its revolutionary CLO.

Life inside the sacred gates of the Rot is full of drama. A couple of months before we were to walk out of the sacred gates, I was woken up by my excited friends to have a look at the newspapers. I recognized the boy in the reports. He was our own Director’s son studying at GNL. I recognized two more faces, one was the same CLO and the other one was our Director who was being crowned as the new revolutionary and a great father. It so happened that his son was made to attend the RP, the CLO was remotely monitoring through a camera and he was being recorded on a camera hidden in his room. Our Director had eventually squared up with him. But what about us? I am writing this piece in the fictional hope of getting our dues back.

The House Of Free Books

2010-04-21T14:58:00.007+05:30

The bell rings in the usual peculiar manner to declare the recess and the thousand happy souls plunge out of the classes into the many playgrounds my school boasted. Some of us scatter on the exposed roots of the cotton tree on the playground facing the road. Excitement is visible on our faces as we gape admiringly at the new building across the road. How long and torturous the four periods had been today. We have decided to give our recess games a break today, we are waiting to hear the details about the new building.

"It is a house, a big house, a double storey house, a concrete house, a beautiful house, a mysterious house, a house that I have not seen before. I stay in a government quarter made of punctured wooden poles and planks weakened by the termites and decades of neglect of PWD. Still Papa tells me that our quarter is a safe abode, it won't budge, howsoever big an earthquake attacks it. He must be right. But he has not seen this house, it looks too good for me to believe it is real. But I have been a perpetual witness to its growth, right from the day the soil was being tilled, to its germination, to the appearance of the little shoots, to this day when it has flowered."

Finally someone has started talking about the house, good, I could not have waited any longer. "Oh heavens", Anand is saying, "Saryu's father spent full one and a half lakh rupees on it!" I interrupt, "Unbelievable!" He is unfazed and goes onto describe in great detail the wealth Saryu's father earned through his business in Maya Minarets. I am suitably impressed and shut up. Saryu is coming towards us. She is our classmate and a good friend. We pounce on her and request her to take us to her house just once. Saryu is a nice girl. She agrees asking her mother's permission for our visit.

God is great, he grants the children their wishes. Saryu is guiding us through the house.
"This is the hall where my mother will sit chatting with her friends. This is the dining room, isn't the table nice? This is the guest room for our guests."

"God they have a spare big bed for their guests already!"

"Come on, now I will take my friends to my room, welcome, welcome!"

"My goodness, she has a big bed all for herself, I have to share a small bed with my sister!"

Someone asks, "Saryu, what is the door for?"
"Oh, that is leading to my bathroom."

"What, you have a bathroom for your room!", all of us exclaim.

"Yes, Papa said that all rooms should have attached bathrooms, it will be convenient."

"Oh wonders, what a luxury, sparkling tiles, amazing faucets, a bathtub!"

Lucky kiddos were unaware that they had got a sneak peek at the designer baths which were to be regularly featured in posh magazines at least after a decade and a half.

Saryu protests, "Friends, there is still a lot to explore and recess is soon to get over, hurry!"
We follow her from room to room and lose count. Anyways it is clear that Saryu and each of her four siblings have a big room and a big bath of their own.

I am enlightened to the fact that Saryu might be my benchmate in one class but she is way ahead of me in another class. I start respecting Saryu's father, make a mental picture of him as a Hero at Maya Minarets and declare him as my ideal. I go on describing her house to my sister and parents for the next week after which I am persuaded to give the house a short break for the impending exams.

Next session starts. I study at a government school. Students are given free books every year. I do not get the free books. My parents save money with great struggle through the first quarter every year to buy books for me and my sister. At least, they can afford to save. Free book are for the poor students whose parents struggle to afford two square meals. I am happy for them. A teacher calls me to help him in the distribution this session. I am aghast to see Saryu in the queue of students of my class. I enquire with the teacher and he confirms that her name is in the list. I am puzzled to find her four siblings too lined up for the free books. There are a few other students in the beneficiary list who do not appear to justify their inclusion. I unfailingly see the contempt on the teacher's face every time he hands over the books to one such student. I clearly see the patronizing smile on his face whenever a poor student gets the books. He even warns a few of them, "Don't dare to sell these books for cheap money like the last time, they are your Gods."

My mind is troubled over today's scenes. When the teacher is done with distributing all the books, I can no longer feign silence. I ask him innocently, "Sir, Why is it that Saryu and her four siblings who have a big house get free books while I don't?"
He jeers, "The government pays your dad for your books but does not pay Saryu's dad for his kids books." I do not comprehend what it means, yet feel the sarcasm in his every word but decide not to prod further. My father is a teacher and he must be know what it means. I can not wait to get home. I enter my house shouting, "Papa, I have a question on a peculiar event I witnessed today" and repeat my question.

My patriotic heart is in tears on learning the bitter truth. I want to snatch all books from Saryu's house. I want to set my ideal's office in Maya Minarets on fire. I want to scream and tell the world about him and his other friends. What can a small third standard student do about such big problems. I feel engulfed in a vacuum which swallows Saryu's father's portrait from the mantelpiece of my mind forever.

It was my introductory course on 'Grassroot Corruption' which mercilessly dragged me from the innocent and unsuspecting realms of childhood onto the thresholds of manipulative adulthood forever.

P.S. “The only imaginative fiction being written today is income tax returns.” — Herman Wouk

711 Days

2010-04-21T12:29:00.002+05:30

We shared our lives' some of the best moments staying at Flat No 711 for a little less than two years, 711 days to be precise. These lines crafted on the lines of the song 'Kabhi-Kabhi Aditi' are a reflection of those days.

711 Days

Kabhi-kabhi Rani 711 mei yonhi kuch apna lagta hai,
Kabhi-kabhi Rani wo party-time sundar sapna lagta hai,
Aise mei ched ke kisi ko, sab hans de khush hoke,
To koi kyon na soch le, everything was wonderful and ok.

Kabhi-kabhi to bhari 711 mein thi lotsa khushi aur mazaa,
Kabhi-kabhi to khele har din UNO, har pal Dumb-sharaaa,
Aise mein koi fir se dekhe patte, to koi cheating pe toke,
Aur kaise koi sochle ki office ke liye iss game ko roke.

Socho zara live cartoon ko hum kitna chahte hain.
Koi pakai khana to hum sab milkar khate hain,
Gaana to aata nahi hai magar phir bhi hum gaate hai,
Ki big boss ke baad hi humko sona hota hai,
Bangalore times ke hi saath to savera hota hai.

Koi occasion aaye to lage ki khil gayi hain kali,
Mil ke chale sab zaika, aur khaye paneer chilli.
Weekends pe chale commercial, forum and MG,
Ki yum cake aur chips se hum bhook mitate hain,
Aur terrace pe baithe Tea aur ParleG bhi khaate hai.

Kabhi-kabhi Rani 711 mei yonhi kuch apna lagta hai,
Kabhi-kabhi Rani wo party-time sundar sapna lagta hai,
Hey Rani Hasde hasde hasde hasde hasde, hasde tu zara,
Nahi to bus thora thora thora thora, thora mushkura :)
Nahi to bus thora thora thora thora, thora mushkura :D

A House For The Brothers

2010-04-20T19:20:00.004+05:30

Provocation: Big cities, small towns and remote villages keep on telling me the heart-rending tales of family feuds over property which, in most cases, is a humble house cured by its builder's sweat and blood. Many a bonds are forsaken, many a lives are lost.

A House For The Brothers

Making castles of the clay,

In the scorching summer noon,

The three little brothers play,

Till the time they see the moon.

Then mother brings in dinner,

Feeding till their stomachs fill.

Telling a story about a winner,

Counts money saved from a bill.

Later she sends them to learn,

The magic of the alphabets,

And she tills the farms to earn,

An extra sum to pay of debts.

She raises them with her grit,

Builds a house missing her meals,

When she thinks her life is fit,

The bothers' evil plan unveils.

As they wrangle over the house,

Cops are called to settle matters.

Caught in a fire so hard to douse,

Her soul dies, her heart shatters.

Baby Meow

2010-04-20T13:47:00.000+05:30

Baby Meow

Pally beauty 'Baby Meow',

Word she uttered was the meow,

Still we could converse for hours,

On topics varied as flowers!

Milk and butter did she savour,

Weighing scale yet failed to waver!

Twitching whishkers, wiggling tail,

She would tread the garden rail.

She accompanied me to school,

Techers also rated her cool!

Her frolics delighted one and all,

'Miss Colony', they would call.

Mann Gulmohar

2010-04-19T12:11:00.004+05:30

मन गुलमोहर

मेरे मन के गुलमोहर पे झूमी बहार,
प्यार मुझको हुआ है जो ये पहली बार |

उनके चेहरे की बगियन में, खिले दो कमल नयन हैं,
चटक रही मुस्कान की कलियन, कंठ-स्वर सितार सृजन है,
मेरी रग-रग में स्पंदन है, प्रियवर का वंदन है,
उल्लासित क्षण है, प्रणय सुशोभित नव-जीवन है |

उनके ख्यालों में खोयी, मैं हौले-हौले गाऊँ,
उनकी बस इक झलक को, मैं दसियों बहाने बनाऊँ,
मनं की उमंगों को, ख़त की पतंगों में, पल-पल उड़ाऊं,
मिलने की आशा में, चाहत की आभा से, खुद को सजाऊँ |

मेरे मन के गुलमोहर पे झूमी बहार,
प्यार मुझको हुआ है जो ये पहली बार |

TICE - The Eight Innings Cricket

2010-04-16T17:20:00.006+05:30

The vast kingdom of Spardhistan was ruled by the haughty king Munsif Maharaj and beautiful Sujaanpur was his capital city. Munsif Maharaj was a patron of sports and had a special liking for cricket. With the aim of nurturing the talented cricketers of his kingdom, he had set up the Kilolkar Academy for Cricket in the heart of Sujaanpur amidst sylvan surroundings. Entry to this elite academy was granted through extensive selections and the privileged group of the very best in the kingdom made to it every season.

This particular spring season, the academy heartily welcomed an extraordinarily gifted group of twenty-two young cricketers. Praveen Singh and Sumedha Kiran were two proud members of this group. The group spent the season learning the intricacies, tips and tricks of the game and making friends of a lifetime. Sumedha and friends thoroughly enjoyed the evenings roaming in the surrounding forests, listening to birds, climbing trees, plucking fruits, reciting melodies, watching animals, swimming in the stream. Oh, what a bliss! Praveen's friends were avid connoisseurs of the enticing Mahua nectar and spent evenings below the trees gaping open mouth at flowers dripping with nectar. Draining the bitter sweet liquid down the oesophagus, they attained instant Nirvana! In short, the academy was the 'Paradise on Earth' for these twenty-two young souls.

With the aim of honing skill and persistence, Munsif Maharaj had meticulously defined the format of the Kilolkar cricket known as 'The Eight Innings Cricket'. As luck and skill were inherent to both, Kilolkarites fondly called it Tice to rhyme with Dice. Every batsman had to play a total of eight innings in a game and each inning lasted as long as him/her. As soon as the first inning got over for the first team of eleven, the second team of eleven played their first inning. This was followed by the second inning from the first team and the pattern repeated for eight innings.

During the last month of the year, Munsif Maharaj put to test the skills of his proteges. Individual performances in batting, balling and fielding were tested and a final score calculated for every player based on a rule of weightages. The player with the highest score was presented the coveted 'Golden Glove' signed by the Maharaja himself. Batting test with the highest weightage was the most interesting event. Batsmen faced a computer controlled balling agent to ensure that all of them faced similar balls. They were free to choose their favourite umpires for the last four innings.

Final month of judgement started for this extraordinary group amidst much fanfare. Before they realized it, the first four innings were over and the scoring pattern started to emerge. Used to his privileged upbringing, Praveen was devastated to learn that not he, but Sumedha was the highest scorer. The poor fellow did not know that she had a passion for the game as a kid. How difficult was it for her mother feed her while she wanted to drive shots with her bat of the spoon on the playgrounds of the plate!

His agony was not hidden from his friends. They saw reflections of their own disappointments in his gloom and started devising strategies to nurse their hurt souls. They jotted down the statistics of the innings so far, pondered over for a long time and concluded that his batting average was a little higher than Sumedha's. It was a cheering discovery and they fed his hungry soul with its big morsels. They declared that Praveen deserved the 'Golden Bat' and proposed the setting up of the award to Munsif Maharaj. The Maharaja rejected the proposal with the argument that all awards were instituted at the commencement of the season. Sumedha was happily unaware of the brewing storm which threatened to blow her away and her friends decided not to burden her with unnecessary distractions.

Praveen demanded the services of the benevolent umpire Soumya Sarkar for his last four innings which was granted as Sumedha, the highest scorer, did not press a similar demand. Happy with his easy luck, he focused on batting and completely ignored balling and fielding. Weighed down by the false perceptions and undue tensions, his score deteriorated. By the end of sixth inning, Praveen's friends started plotting aloud against Sumedha. They alleged umpires were partial to her. She found it upsetting, but was not disheartened.

Umpire Vidvesh Purohit was well known for his mean demeanour. He had missed the 'Golden Glove' during his earlier days at the academy and could not bear the sight of the younger folks walking away with it. He was too keen on declaring the players out and was avoided by all. Irritated by the unkind murmurs, Sumedha requested Vidvesh Purohit to be her umpire for the last two innings. Everyone, including him was astonished at this unusual request. As she continued playing for her passion without thinking about the Glove, he left no stone unturned to keep her hands off from it.

On the final day, spoilt Praveen was gifted the 'Golden Bat' by his wonderful friends with ample hints of expectations of a favor in return at suitable times. As Sumedha walked away with the 'Golden Glove', umpire Soumya Sarkar stopped her to ask why she had not opted for his services which could have even bettered her score. With a twinkle in her eyes, she said smiling, "Sir, You won't understand!"

Survival of the Luckiest Fittest

2010-04-15T18:00:00.008+05:30

Claim: The three stories are mere recollections without a figment of imagination but for the names.

Sparkling, thundering, swaying, enormous waves breaking on the beaches and splashing mist generously on the sands and everything else on the sands is a sight to behold, a moment to cherish, an invigorating experience, an incredible phenomenon, repeating day in and day out on the virgin shores of the picturesque islands of the Nicobar group. This particular Christmas, celebrations went on till late in the night and these waves merrily gorged on the cake and guzzled the wine served lavishly at the sea floor counter and swelled and swelled and swelled and started for the shores. It was dawn by the time they reached the islands amply intoxicated, failed to recognize the humble familiar sands, refused to break and furiously marched forward in search of their playgrounds like an unyielding bunch of kids. They raided houses, schools, offices, hills, farms, plantations, forests and streams and the earth trembled vigorously with fear and shame.

Those who eagerly await an opportunity for feeding and riding elephants know very well that elephants turn wild for a while and it is best not to meddle with them then. These waves were quicker, nastier, wilder than the wildest of elephants and their connoisseurs, who had not heard about these mood swings called as Tsunamis, were caught unawares. Some rushed out, donning handycams, to capture the magnificent waves. Well the admiration was mutual and the waves captured them too! Some others were guided by the basic instincts to run away, to climb up higher, to hide, to swim, to shut their eyes tight, they were also not spared by the brunt of mighty Tsunamis. Few others had luck and wit on their side and survived to narrate their unique tales of true heroism.

Mr Sahil's Bike

Mr Sahil was busy brushing teeth in his decent house by the beach. His pretty wife Neena was happily preparing the morning tea. Their lovely daughter Charu was sleeping peacefully and their naughty son Mohit was thinking of pretexts to convince his dad for a quick splash in the sea. Suddenly Mohit started yelling, "Daddy, look at the beautiful waves, Mumma, see the big, rolling waves, Charu, get up fast or you will miss out on the view of the century!"

Mr Sahil's face fell the instant he had a look at the sea and he screamed, "We have to rush to save our life, Mohit, get Charu out of the bed fast and get out of the house, Neena, get me the bike keys, we have to rush." Ms Sahil protested, "But how can I go out in my night clothes, let me change first." A portion of the earth cracked in front of their house noisily splattering slush all around. Mr Sahil snatched the key, dragged Neena out on to the bike, dumped Mohit and Charu on her and started racing away from the sea.

The waves were madly chasing the family of four huddled on an old bike being balanced with great effort on a shaky ground . Mohit, Charu and Ms Neena, all three were almost paralyzed by the sight of behemoth destruction behind them and by the shadow of death lurking painfully close by. After a chase of 10 minutes and 4 kilometers, the waves gave up and left Mr Sahil's family safe and dry at the beginning of a forest. All four breathed a sigh of relief and the very next instant Mr Sahil fell flat on the ground shocked by disbelief and death. He remained comatose for next three days before he was airlifted and revived in a Chennai hospital. The bike has been the family's deity since then.

Mr Navjot's Trees

Mr Navjot stayed with his old mother Ms Kaur, industrious wife Ms Simran and two very naughty sons Prabhjo and Harjo in an expansive house built in a levelled clearing of their coconut and pepper plantation by the roadside. The family shared an emotional bond with every single tree, they fondly nursed the trees and took great care of the plantation. Across the road, the ground was levelled for a helipad and beyond that was the roaring sea forming a beautiful mini bay. They saw the huge wall of water slowly approaching from a great distance and immediately started gathering golden ornaments hidden in the corners of their house. When the water thundered on the helipad, Mr Navjot ordered them to rush over to the nearby hillock. He collected the ornaments bag and started out to discover that his old and ailing mother was still inside the house. He shouted over to his wife and sons to continue running while he fetched his mother.

The first layer of dirt and water had wetted the floors. He dumped the heavy bag, lifted his mother on his back and started for the hillock and was soon wading through ankle deep waters. He continued till water reached his knees and the its force threatened to push him down. He stopped near a coconut tree, dropped her mother down, made her embrace the thin stem of the tree and tightly embraced his mother and the tree with his big strong arms and legs. They were now waist deep in water which threatened to loosen their grip every while. The water level was steadily increasing and when it was chest high, both of them said their final prayers. Mr Navjot's ribs cracked from the impact of lashing waves but he refused to let the tree go.

His family was helplessly watching them from the top of the hillock, sobbing, praying and urging them to hold on. Water level touched their shoulders, declined to waist height, and rose back chest high. Once or twice, a small undulation crossed over their head for a quick second when little Harjo would scream, "It is a very small wave, you will survive it!" Water started receding after fifteen minutes and when it was knee high, Mr Navjot lifted his mother on his back once again and joined his family on the hillock. What an emotional reunion it was! They said in unison "Wahe guruji da khalsa, wahe guruji di fateh".

The next five days were even more harrowing as they found themselves without food and water. Prabhjo and Harjo would scale the dangerous heights of the trees for the coconut fruit. Ms Simran would painstakingly remove the husk with pieces of stones. Next, she would crack the shell and drain milk and scratch the flesh out of it. This family of five survived the catastrophe on this nourishing milk and flesh supplied by their dear trees. This continued till they were found by a group of rescuers and shifted to the base camp set up for the survivors.

Mr Chand's Charity

A bridge was built across the sea to connect two islands. It had been the talk of the town and held the same revered status for the islanders as the mythological Rama Sethu. People flocked the bridge which was considered a construction marvel though the stretch of sea was rather narrow. Mr Chand's small daughter Roopa and son Ravi had often heard about the beauty of the bridge and the sea from their friends in school. They were thoroughly upset that they could not contribute their views to the discussions on the bridge and regularly asked their parents to take them for its tour. The Sunday after Christmas was a good time and the family planned a trip to the bridge. Roopa and Ravi well publicized their impending tour far and wide.

The pleasant Thursday evening before Christmas brought an unwelcome visitor to Roopa's and Ravi's house. The town clerk had come over to ask Mr Chand for a sum of thousand rupees for his father's medicines. Both were aware that their dad was known for his generosity. They suspected that the clerk was asking money for his own booze party for the Christmas. They let their parents know of their suspicion very well and at one point, made them even believe it. Thousand rupees was the exact amount their mother, Ms Roshini had kept aside for the family's trip. Being the last week of the month, there was not much cash at home to offer to the clerk for this mediocre family. Every rupee was spent or saved with great planning to make them meet the ends.

Of course Ms Roshini wanted to give away the thousand rupees kept aside but the fallen faces of her children made her decide otherwise. The responsibility of resolving the dilemma was on Mr Chand's shoulders alone. He knew that the clerk was not a descendant of the Great HarishChandra. He knew very well that his children would be upset. But how could he refuse money asked for medicines. He had made a mental picture of the old man dying without medicines. He gave the money to clerk and he left their house heaping praises on the family. Roopa and Ravi cried their hearts out. They refused to touch food and ate it after a lot of pleading from their parents. They remained sullen for the next two days for their loss.

Early Sunday morning brought no change to their attitude. Suddenly, the ground started shaking vigorously and they fell on the ground. They were pulled out of the house by their parents with great difficulty. Those shaking sixty seconds were the longest and the worst seconds of their life. Aftershocks followed almost every hour afterwards. They had forgotten about the bridge and the fact that their postponed trip was originally planned for this day. News of the death of over hundred spectators on the bridge reached them in the evening. The bridge had swung to and forth and thrown people off into the swelling sea filled with crocodiles below. Finally it had snapped into two from the middle and one part of it sunk by a metre. The two arms of the bridge appeared to them as two humongous knives stabbing unsuspecting lives. They hugged their parents and wept inconsolably.

From the Gallows

2010-04-13T15:09:00.006+05:30

"The last sip of water I had was twenty-four hours back. A whole day had passed, my throat was feeling unusually parched, the salt in the tears getting concentrated by the hour made my eyes hurt really hard. My face was bloated badly, partly from crying, partly from trying to relax muscles twitching with a thousand gloomy feelings, partly from the impact of those sharp smacks, partly because of being dug into the wet pillow for the whole day. Lying expressionlessly on the floor, completely blacked out, I was staring into the noose dangling alluringly from the roof. Who had set up the gallows in my room? No, I did not. Of course, I did. My hands had set up the noose, my hands had arranged the chair, my eyes had calculated the height to ensure that my feet won't touch the floor. I had no control over my hands, over my eyes, over my body. Those haunting voices, they were constantly shouting, no barking, instructions to my hands, to my eyes, to my legs.

Voices, which voices, was I imagining voices, no I was not that sort of person. Was I hallucinating, my brain was twitching like rubber, my head felt unusually heavy and in next instant, a torrent of boiling, gurgling tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. My skin smarted from the heat, some heaviness from the very centre, very top of my head was removed, it could sense I was short of breath and panting. Once again, I found myself trying hard to chose between embracing the gallows and the watercooler. I was very dry at throat, a part of me, deaf to the voices, wanted to go to the watercooler at the end of the winding corridor and treat me to a sip of water. The other part, numbed by those piercing, poking, chilling, threatening voices revolted at the mere thought of humiliation from those merciless eyes, mocking smiles.

"What was humiliating? Those voices, those eyes, those smiles?"

"Yes they were."

"Why?... Why?"

"I don't know."

"What had I done?"

"I don't know."

"What for I was being humiliated?"

"I don't know."

The watercooler part was unsympathetically demanding those answers from the gallows part.

"Why was I humiliated?"

"I don't know."

"No you fool, think hard. Nothing happens without a reason....Why?"

"I chose not to buttress the ego of those who demanded it in the guise of respect and seniority."

"That was a crystal clear thinking, Kudos to you, now think some more, let the steam of emotions off the pressurized chambers of your heart."

"I don't want to say, but still, those voices, those faces, they haunt me. Those were of my own people, I was not told that they would be equally demanding. Were they demanding as those demanding respect, no they were not, they were being herded by those seniors. In turn they were massaging their own egos by hurtling abuses at a simple beautiful soul."

"Good, so what does that all mean?"

"That means those accusations were all false, I was not wrong, those abuses were not really meant to be, though they were deliberate."

"What next then?"

"I can and respect those who are worthy, but this disguised ego massaging demand, I can't oblige to it at any cost, wait a minute, I can fight against it, but that will be tough, very tough. But do I really know how tough it would be, frankly, I don't, I have not given it a real trial."

"Glad to hear that. Now quickly clear the room of this noose."

Oh my, where did my emaciated soul borrow this energy from, I am climbing up and holding the noose. Oh my, I am blacking out again.

"Let me not lose this chance and quickly embrace the noose. The nice, strong, smooth noose feels really good around the neck. I think I look like wearing a fur costume. Oh fool, kick the chair, fast, fast, now, now, just do it."

"I respect who are worthy, I respect who are worthy, I respect who are worthy....."

"What are you parroting, kick the chair"

"Ain't my own beautiful soul worthy, ain't my family worthy?"

"OH WHAT THE HELL, where are your thoughts wandering?"

"What a gift of love this gallows gonna send to all those who are worthy?"
"What about those shaky letters on the crumpled pieces of paper strewn across the room, I have made arrangements, did you forget, what it reads, 'I was living with murderers, they are all over the place, they killed me, get them when I am gone.' There is this long list of names also."
"Oh, you have planned well for the gift of revenge as a token of love for all those who are worthy!"

It is getting unbearable, all right, it's decided, I can not kick the chair. I have to dismantle the gallows. Its gone, the room looks better now. But what about going out into the corridors, the look on those faces would be disgusting. What about that. Didn't I read about the crocodile the savage hunters failed to kill? Yes, I did. I will emulate the crocodilian skin. OK, I am going out to wash my face. I am drinking water after 40 hours, it is hurting, nevertheless I am liking it. I can hear my stomach moaning with hunger now, poor fella, will have to wait for a couple for hours for food."

Hot tears were again rolling down Rashmi's cheeks and her head was heavy as she finished re-living the saddest chapter from her diary. It had been 20 years but those scars hurt her like fresh stabs. She could not forgive those voices, those faces, those eyes. She was angry at all of them despite the fact that many of them were friends now. She was grateful to herself for coming out alive from the gallows. Today, she was content counselling her younger friends who needed her advice and wanted to learn from her experience. She was content with the adoption of her work by educational institutions which enabled them to quickly identify the bullies and the innocent victims which prevented the innocent souls from taking the same steps which she had almost taken.

Man And Mother

2010-04-13T11:49:00.002+05:30

Inspiration: Once upon a dark night, I was admiring the diamonds studded in the sky, when the uncanny arrangement of the two of the earliest known constellations, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor caught my attention. It was a completely symmetrical arrangement which made me think that each of them was a mirror image of the other, albiet little different in size as happens with curved mirrors. I had always wondered why they were called as Major and Minor though they appeared to defy these adjectives when seen by the eye. Then I sadly realized that this perception is the norm all over the earth and it did not spare the sky either.

Man and Mother

Upon a moonless April night,
Ursa couple's clear sight,
Facing mirror of social blight,
Cut a figure lesser bright.

Staring into the depressed mirror,
Oblivious to his perception error,
Smaller Major was mega elated,
Baited by his silhoutte inflated.

Smiling through the bulging reflector,
Content and calm the Bigger Minor,
Trusting destiny and the instance,
Meekly accepted diminished semblance.

Dismal shadow from the heavens,
Jaundiced cherubic hearts of humans,
To extol Man as greater mortal,
And his Mother the lesser mortal!

Wanar Chalisa

2010-03-18T13:38:00.007+05:30

Background: These couplets are a tribute to the monkey family which regularly visits our colony and provides us with the most innocent and wholesome entertainment without any reward, fruity or otherwise :D

वानर चालीसा

बड़े वानर, छोटे वानर, पर हैं सारे मोटे वानर!
सच कहते हैं इनको चातर, सबका मन मोह लेते आकर!

घर की छत पे वानर खेलें,

बच्चे बूढ़े मिल देखें मेले!

लो खोली वानर ने टंकी,

मार के डुबकी, कर ली मन-की!

बाकी वानर दौड़े आये,
इक इक करके सारे नाहे,
निराश हो गया नन्हा बच्चा,
वानर ने हल ढूँढा अच्छा,
दुम थामकर उल्टा लटका,
बच्चे ने फिर मारा छपका,
यों छत पे ये वानर खेलें,
बच्चे बूढ़े मिल देखें मेले!

अब नहीं जाते हम तो सर्कस,
घर पे देखें तमाशे हंस-हंस!
गली थी चौड़ी, ट्रेफिक ज्यादा,
पार करे तो कैसे बाबा,
नहीं था यह वानर नादान,
भांप चुका रस्ता आसान,
चंद पलों में चढ़कर खम्भा,
होशियार ने कर दिया अचम्भा!
खुशनसीब था टेलीफ़ोन तार,
लटक के जिससे पहुंचा पार,
अब नहीं जाते हम तो सर्कस,
जब-तब देखें तमाशे हंस-हंस!

खाते पत्ते, तोड़ते छत्ते,
दोस्त बन गए इनके कुत्ते!
नन्हा वानर बड़ा शैतान,
कर दे कुत्तों को हैरान!
भर चौंकड़ी बैठे पीठ पर,
गिरा न पाए उसको कूकर,
फिर कुत्ते की दुम वो खींचे,
एक छलांग में पेड़ पे पहुंचे,
अब कुत्ते को आये गुस्सा,
भौंक के लौट चले कुछ रुस्सा,
मना ले उसको कूदके नीचे,
और फिर दौड़ें आगे पीछे,
खाते पत्ते, तोड़ते छत्ते,
दोस्त बन चुके इनके कुत्ते!

बड़े वानर, छोटे वानर, पर हैं सारे मोटे वानर!
सच कहते हैं इनको चातर, सबका मन मोह लेते आकर!

Jai Ho Newton!

2010-03-17T19:34:00.004+05:30

I often used to get confused about the order of these laws, and sometimes, the laws themselves. This was my kiddo memory aid for the same. Some situations have changed since then, like Pappu usually gets dropped by a car, teachers are refrained from spanking him and the concept of ranking and flunking has been done away with. Nevertheless, I am posting it right here! And one more thing, this title was given long before Jai-Ho acquired the present cult status of the global phrase. :)

जय हो न्यूटन!

रुके जो गाडी, पप्पू गिर जाये,

दोष इनेर्शिया का है हाये!

चल गयी गाडी, खा गया झटका,

नियम है पहला, यह न्यूटन का!

माँ की थापी मन बहलाये,

टीचर की थापी गाल सुजाये!

भार-वेगान्तर-बल का रिश्ता,

दुसरे नियम से यही समझता!

पढ़े जो मन से, अव्वल आये,

न पढने पे, कक्षा दोहराये!

हर एक्शन पे आये रिअक्शन,

धन्य है तीसरा नियमे-न्यूटन!

From Beyond The Clouds

2010-03-16T14:48:00.007+05:30

Background: I have always loved flying and a few trips that took me across the length and breadth of our country brought the physical geography studied years and years ago very live in front of my eyes and rekindled my long forgotten love for the subject :)

From Beyond The Clouds

A novel practical in Indian Geography,

With a few breathtaking trips, above the clouds,

Brings cognizance of topography,

Into light, out of theoretic shrouds.

The mighty Himalayas appear pointed ivory clouds,

Unlike the pics seen in books by I and You,

The lazily meandering river with its bends,

Inspires the illustrious shape of the horse shoe.

Islands of silt the river drains,

Featureless vast Northern Plains,

And the scattered oxbow lakes,

Fail to remain anymore fakes.

Narmada prancing through the Marble rocks,

Brings alive Bernoulli and Venturi forces,

Incredible is to see the big bird's shadow,

Racing on the feathery clouds.

Is it the tapering tip of the peninsula,

Or is it the beak of a giant eagle,

The icteric continental shelf is perceptible,

Against the sparkling blue bathyal bezel.

Cumulonimbus clouds above the Indian Ocean,

Are large scoops of the vanilla ice cream,

Submerged patches, elevated isles,

Evoke desire of flying thousand more miles.

Do-It-Yourself Wax

2010-03-15T19:53:00.003+05:30

Trips to Lakme were getting more and more unmanageable for Dipti with inflating economy and deflating take home salary. Plucking a leaf out of her great company's and greater government's austerity drives, she rummaged through many a shopping racks to finally procure the Do-It-Yourself Wax.

Back home, she applied a little bit of the DIY wax on her hand as a test and was satisfied with the result. She went on to apply it on her left hand but by the time it was all removed, she was not very pleased by the outcome. But she finished waxing her right hand also, leaving it unattended was unthinkable by all measures. At this juncture, her thoughts were divided but she finally decided to wax her legs also as it meant getting over with the mess in one go, and also exhausting the pack. Storing the pack was not an option, it had got accidentally dropped in water during the ordeal. Poor girl, she was blissfully unaware that the ordeal was yet to begin.

The final step was the ablutions. The little remnants of the flaky wax refused to leave her skin however hard she scrubbed. She applied soap, moved over to detergent bar and finally tried Surf Excel. Never in her life had she seen such a stubborn substance. Her skin started to burn from the hour long scratching session, but she went on to try cleaning it with vaseline, hair oil, cooking oil and nail paint remover. But she emerged as an absolute failure and mentally prepared to call for an ambulance now. She recalled that kerosene oil was available at home, thanks to the recent termites' menace. Desperate to avoid a doctor, yet least hopeful of any success, she rubbed it on her hand. She could not believe her eyes. The mighty mineral oil derivative had dissolved the mightier DIY Wax off her hand. She had finally found "The Elusive Elixir". Or was she reminded of the "Stench of Kerosene" by Amrita Pritam...

After that day, she resolved to continue her trips to Lakme to avoid trips to Hospital Acme.

By The MoonLight

2010-03-15T19:09:00.002+05:30

The media descriptions of the city Dipti inhabits make the readers envious and why not when the city is Gurgaon, Shining India's Millennium City. The new part of the city is located on either sides of a national highway and lined all along are the posh colonies and the magnificent office buildings. The farthest office spaces are not even 500 meters from the highway exit lanes and the time it takes to reach them is no less then 10 minutes and can extend up to 40 minutes on certain occasions. Did the presented statistics force you to have a second look? The woes of Dipti start from this point onwards and never end till she is within the city limits.

She is mandated to take up multiple insurance policies as her spine and viscera are constantly subjected to the jerks unthinkable even on remote villages' kuchcha roads. Hospitals and doctors are grateful to the ill maintained prehistorical roads, a prominent feature across the city. They brilliantly exemplify 'Unity in Diversity' with both the Mall road dotted with dazzling malls and the old Sadar Bazaar road presenting the same shoddy picture.

At the end of a fateful day, she somehow managed to reach back to her flat only to find it in complete darkness again as the electricity supply was yet to be restored .Some apartments did boast of a 100% power backup but you needed to be rich enough to be living in one of them. Personal generator could have been another alternative but she did not own a house for installing one. "Life is really dark and dull for the middle class in the city", Dipti thought aloud standing in her terrace and looking wearily towards the sky.

Lo and behold, her Eureka moment arrived. Moonlight had been the subject of literature for long but she had never come across such a practical utility. She decided to promote it in the "Green Campaign" in her office also. She finished all her evening chores from cutting veggies to kneading dough to scrubbing dishes in the serene moonlight! After that she has never stopped thinking about 'The Evening" and thanking the moon and feeling funnily stupid.

The Interview

2010-03-15T18:09:00.003+05:30

She was there to attend to the rituals of her late granny. Poor lady, people were saying, had faced many downs in life but was lucky enough to see her great grand children. General mood was melancholic except for the priest's of course, who was being gifted a gilded ladder that reflected clearly in his greedy eyes. Later a grand feast was organized in granny's honor, she failed to understand how people could savor the delicacies served, given the occasion. Gradually food started to get worse out of people, at least she thought so. What else could explain the sudden announcement that she was to be interviewed soon by some prospective in-laws. Well, she felt sick at the thought but decided to derive maximum fun out of it. Thus she entered the room where a graceful lady was seated on a big sofa.

Graceful lady, smiling: "Come over beta, sit beside me."

She, almost dropping herself on the sofa: "Thank you."

The graceful lady was obviously disgusted by the undulations on the sofa, but the smile on her lips persisted and initial pleasantries were exchanged.

Graceful lady: "What are your office timings?"

She: "Well, 2pm to 11pm."

Graceful lady: "Hmm, that must be changeable, right"

She: "No, It is based on my sleeping pattern, I can't get up before afternoon."

Graceful lady: "How do you manage food?"

She: "Our maid manages that :)"

Graceful lady: "How about post marriage?"

She: "What else a mother-in-law is for :D"

Graceful lady: "Hmm, OK. You mentioned you stay with friends, I am cool about the ways of youngsters, so I am asking specifically, by friends you mean gals or guys?"

She, grinning for being given such an excellent opportunity: "My good male friends stay in other cities, so I had to settle with girlie roomies here, otherwise I don't mind sharing rent with guys :D"

Graceful lady, with eyes almost popping out, but still smiling: "How about your relationship with your parents?"

She: "I am a person of my own free will, I don't care about them :D"

Graceful lady: "It was nice talking to you Beta. :D "

She: "Thank You Very Much, Aunty."

She completely meant it for she was grinning from ear to ear and was grateful to the lady for spicing up her day and making her second interview a truely memorable one. First was her job interview...

Who cast my vote???

2010-03-15T15:33:00.005+05:30

Dipti Mukt had acquired her Photo ID card and her name was there on the voters' list for the very first time in her life, an ultimate achievement in her bureaucracy bridled times, kudos to her Dad's tremendous efforts! She was rightfully elated, looking at the ID card a millionth time, painting vivid images on the canvas of her gray cells... the day after discussions with her friends in the college canteen, the title of her blog commemorating the experience, the dress she should be wearing to the red carpet, the EVM exploration/tinkering options and of course the photograph. She had seen the celebrity poses filling the national dailies during last elections and was devising and revising her strategies for her own picture she planned to get clicked with the stylish blue mark and upload on Orkut! :)

She started for The Venue wearing one of her brightest smiles, accompanied by her retinue of siblings and neighbors and friends in the afternoon, at 2pm to be precise. She was not used to long queues and had opted for the lazy hour of the day believing family people would give the venue a miss at that hour being busy with their luncheons and other routine activities like indulging in a power nap, etc. The ten minutes walk seemed to take longer than usual under the spring sun, but she was finally delighted to note that her predictions for the general queue behavior had come true even on such an eventful day! :)

Soon her turn came and she proudly presented her voter # and displayed her ID card to the the first polling officer. He shuffled some papers, looked at her photograph, scanned her face, repeated the procedure, asked his colleague for verification from a second set of papers and ultimately asked her to get out of the line and to go back home. This intensely rude order made her feel a resident of Hiroshima who barely survived the Little Boy! :(

It is hard to put down the commotion in her mind for the next one minute in limited words but finally Dipti gathered herself up and asked for an explanation. The explanation as per the polling officer, "your vote has already been cast as per our records", mercilessly rattled life out of her once again akin to what Fat Man did for Nagasaki. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice the absence of the much revered sign on her Index finger and she hardly stopped herself from presenting another much rendered sign with her middle finger! :(

Brave girl, she recoiled back to her "Mess With Me Not" attitude pretty soon and went on to create a ruckus how they could allow someone do that when she had the original photo id card and the voter list had photographs. In the meanwhile, someone suggested a brilliant plan to get her out of the room before the situation deteriorated. She was allowed to register her choice on the EVM without the usual paperwork, she questioned the validity of this act, but was falsely convinced that her vote had certainly been registered as she could hear the beep. After this the polling officers pleaded with her to leave the venue along with her once shattered and now sewn back dreams. She left the place, seething with anger and frustrated and determined to bring the corrupt fellas to task! :(

She formulated a plan with her entourage and started searching for media agencies contact numbers, as this seemed to be the easiest and best solution to all. Her mom got alarmed at all this and pleaded with all of them to let the sleeping dogs lie. She was now genuinely concerned about the harms coming her daughter's way if this scandal was publicized. Finally better (REALLY??? or should I say worse...) sense prevailed and she gave in to her mom's teary requests. Dad tried to close the things on a lighter note by saying "Beta, people know you generally don't stay here since you study outside and they wanted to utilize your very valuable vote, what you saw was a real time application of Business Intelligence! :)"

P.S. They say time heals all, but Dipti is yet to overcome her sense of loss...how can she when she missed her chance for the much anticipated Orkut photograph ;)