Rain Drops

They somehow feel good, cause they come from up above?
Or is it the slight splitter -splatter sound in the way it falls?
Or is it that lovely puddle u can just jump into.....?

I dont know what it is. But, raindrops are special cos they make u feel like a kid.

But, as u grow older u tend to see the germs in the puddle of water u'd otherwise hop-skip n jump into.
Ur weary of wetting urself in the rain- fearing that nose-run n sore throat.
N u really wudnt want to go with a rain-splashed-attire for a formal presentation.

I think its with growing up that I have a problem with. But, can u really have a problem with something u have no control over? That thing called time? Nope.

:( am sad

i want to always play in the rain, and jump into the puddle o'rain water even when am barely able to walk- picture me faltering at every step trying to hold onto the walking stick n with an idea running behind those wrinkles of jumping into the puddle (that would straight set me on the funeral pyre).

so, as for now i'll settle with the sad thought of atrophy and take joy in the rain.
will figure out how to enjoy the rain when am m older n wiser, in the mean time.

Cavernous Cry

Republishing something i wrote two years back

Distant, untrodded virgin lands teasingly beckon the wanderlust bug to its unfathomable treasures.
The sensory touch of forest leaves…
The sight of green hues contouring blue skies tempt the aspiring nomad…
The instance where only time and space exist,
Wafts the drifter to the journey which lives its destination every moment.

It stirs, in my soul, an aching desperation to refrain from the mundaneness of this
solitary confinement.

"We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office."
-Aesop

Sleepy

Am quite sleepy.Which is neither being asleep, nor being awake.
And given that choice I'd happily choose the former.
Yawns.

Haikuesque

Haikus may not be meant to be rhyming. But thanks to freedom of expression (and poetic license :p) here's a haikuesque-style- 17 -syllabled rhyme.

Its been a while for a while
I sat thinking on an isle
Life's agile

Just posted two unposted posts - Aditya & Nagarpanchmi

Nagpanchmi

So my grandma handed over a box of “Thambhit” laddus, some green bangles, a halved dry coconut, pan and beetlenuts, a saree and ofcourse kunkma to my mother with a puritan’s touch to tradition observed on ‘Nagarapanchmi’, the festival of the Lord of snakes, Lord Shiva.

I sat across ajji, who with much zeal had made the laddus, and asked her what gave her the verve to make them. (In the monotonous humdrum of todays mundaneness, conforming to these traditions seems more than just a time-consuming elaborate effort to most. One just doesn’t have the ‘verve’ to do it anymore.

‘So what is this festival all about?’ I ask ajji and she nonchalantly says “nagpanchmi andre nagara havina puje madodu” translated from Kannada that means worshipping the Lord of snakes aka Lord Shiva. Sounds simple?

Celebrated with special gusto in North Karnataka and interior Maharashtra in mid-rainy season, Nagarpanchmi is an elaborate five-day celebration of life. The festivities commence with crunches, munches and special lunches. Call it ‘peth pooja’. I would without a doubt say that’s a part of every Indian festival. But, what’s different about Nagpanchmi (apart from the festival-specific food) is the 180 degrees swing play.

Donning new clothes, adorned in new jewels and fragrant jasmine garlands in the long plaits, ajji, her cousins and comrades, escorted by maids, took to the game of ‘sway and catch the coconuts’. They had to stand on ropes tied to perennial trees and swing a substantial 180 degree up in the air to catch the dry-coconut garlands and bring them back. And all this in the farms, with that shimmer of greenery, glint of sunshine and wind that carried you away with the sways to a happier place.

‘It was so much excitement’ ajji says concluding her fleeting recount of Nagarpanchmi, with a resounding laughter reminiscent of the mirthful bygone years.

Aditya

What else did I expect to find in the paedatric surgery ward other than heartrending wails and teary-eyed babies? Nothing really.

There came this grandmother who tersely said to the tiny 4 year old-something brat ‘Aditya come here and sit with me’.

Children solicit conversations with their mischief, smart observations or with just their cute faces and doleful eyes. So we got to know this Aditya who wants to be a Superman when he grows up cause he wants to ‘yelp’ people.

‘Seethamma, please come here’ called out a patient’s mother. So, somebody said her name’s not Seethamma its Narasamma. After a momentary lapse of deep thought, Aditya confidently said with his baby twang, beaming with intelligence- ‘Here, everybody is ‘Nurseamma’ the whole ward was smiling for a change.

What lateral thinking I thought!!

:)

Gimmicks

Friendship day, mother's day, father's day, brother's day, sister's day, doctor's day, valentine's day- where have all these day's come from!?

These revenue generating tricks have tricked most people at the emotional nut bolt really well- why else would u have hazaar messages wishing u happy friendship day (some as plain as that and some entailing elaborate analogies).

Friendship is something we live each day and that IS the real celebration.

The sunny side to it all is- there are those friends who dont message/mail/call in a long time. But will not forget to forward a 'happy friendship day' wish :p

PS in retrospect:
When I/we was/were a kid- there was just Teacher's day where we danced for our teachers and likewise they did for us on Children's day.

And... the most beautiful song...

Annie's Song by John Denver. The song is beautiful beyond words- its complete.

:)

Whatever happpens, happens for a reason, and more often than not, for the best.

Eye of the Tiger

The song that gets me back to life when it slumps me down...


Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds, till we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

Risin' up, straight to the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop
Just a man and his will to survive

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger

The eye of the tiger
The eye of the tiger
The eye of the tiger

In your memory, Jasma

October walks were beautiful in those summer hols. The sky splashed colors as the sun dipped into the ocean- resplendant oranges, pinks that mixed with the blue skies etching a memory of those colors, conversations and walks. Those colors draw me to a place we all often go to; take solace in- yesteryears.

What made those walks even more cherishable was next door neighbour, our pal from Hyderabad- Jasma. She was one of those that was coy and silent until you got to see the wacky side of her. She was one of those friends that you feel in hand-in-glove with- in times of mischief, in times of distress.

October ran out. Jasma moved to another city. Something terrible her mother had done. And Jasma was ashamed about. There was no trace of Jasma.

She once called my sis and said- " Am dying Anu. Pls dont be angry with me. Dont keep the phone." The receptionist described the 'weird' call to my sis. She left no numbers to call back. There was just no way to trace her.

After a few months, Mayi- her maid came to tell us Jasma was no more. She had died of cancer.

I cannot come to terms that I never could meet her for that one LAST time.
And tell her she was pure and divine. That we LOVED her. We still do.

Its happened to me more than once. Am sure its happened to you.
That a glance has said more than words, in an instant.

A constant feat

Proving one's worth is a never-ending feat.

(A professor from college said in a marketing class " You're as good as your lst sale, as good as your last month")

So, if you're mistaken you got to prove yourself to your first job, first love, parents and friends- you're wrong.

Its for all of life.

A journey has begun

Breaking the silence with music

Chase the sun by Planet Funk

I'm flying away
Running like the wind
As I chase the sun
Up spinning around
Circles in my mind
Sailing over ground

The Flame Of Life

'Each of us has fire in our hearts for something. Its our goal in life to find it and to keep it lit'.
Something a friend said to me, a year back in time.

This THOUGHT in a LIFETIME

This thought in a Lifetime, can set me forward or retrace me from where I'am going.
This thought in a Lifetime can make me, break me orrr..... free me.
This thought in a Lifetime can be a prayer or a curse.
This thought in a Lifetime can last till the end or be gone before its born.
This thought in a Lifetime may flower as love or decay as hate.
This thought in a Lifetime can endure tolerance or enrage a fury
This thought in a Lifetime is firm faith or elusive hope
This thought in a Lifetime is what I make of it- a boon or a bane.

This thought. This thought. This thought.

This Lifetime.

Of Thoughts.

Gag-Tag

Apoorv tagged me.
1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4
["I say so," he pursued desperately, "because the Bourbons ran away from the Revolution, leaving the people to anarchy.] Leo Tolstoy's words from War and Peace, the book am currently reading.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.
Window panes. Moist window panes- it just rained :)

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Planet Action on Animal Planet.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is?
Hmm...6ish....

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
Its time to see the time (haha... bad one) 6:30 pm

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Coldplay tracks and Samit laughing sporadically (some laughter show am sure- let me check what it is- Takeshi's Castle on Pogo! haha- its so pooped, but cant deny, it tickles my funny bone too)

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Stepped out late afternoon to drive
Samit to the bus stop.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Gmail I think

9. What are you wearing?
Cotton pants & shirt.

10. Did you dream last night?
Not that I remember!

11. When did you last laugh?
This morning at Ranga's tantrums- running around the lawn at the speed of sound... :)

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Paintings & photographs.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
From the way "I" see it, everything seems weird.
Jokes apart, some 'weird' tattoo show on Travel & Living.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
Lengthy.

15. What is the last film you saw?
Madagascar- with my kid cousin some two weeks back.

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
A farmhouse with a river in the backyard, ticket to a world tour.....hmm... dont want to make this more lengthy than it already is. Let me just add- start a NAT GEO equivalent (a channel, a magazine..... a SOCIETY) of India.

17. Tell me something about you that i dunno.
That I was born when I was seven months old and my tiny feet need size 3 footwear.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Its nice the way it is. Without politics, that is.

19. Do you like to dance?
Like- no. Love- yes!

20. George bush.
Demon!! Perpetrator!!

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Hmm....dont know.

22. Imagine yout first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Hmm... dont know again.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
May be for a few years. But then, one can't live away from home (read India) for too long.

24. What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Welcome!

25. 4 people who must also do this meme in their journal.
KJ, Saurab, Samit, Anju

Beyond what IS...

The soothing-sunshine cajoles the lurking-clouds away in the aftermath of a gloomy-day wrought with a frozen-numbness.
The crisp-glow lights-up the landscape and vanishes the sullen-silence of dullness into a sparkling-slience of green leaves.
The sun-saps out of the horizon, exploding crimson-tinted hues of a challenge overwhelmingly won.

The silver-lined cloud defines all that is vague,
With its molten-lining it contains all that's ephemeral and volatile, tightly in its binding care.

The silence of the night guards my faith in the constellation of its sparkling-stars.

As silence crawls into a cacophony of mundaneness,
Those untrodden-lands and those nomadic-dreams, tread my journey on...gently...

Hanging in Hunger

Behind the stock market boom, swelling economy and swiftest of cars & haute couture, there are basic amenities our fellow country folks are fighting for. And lurking round your very own corner is HUNGER.

This is no talk of urban-rural divide. This is the very ridge that makes for castles of crores shadowed by jhopadpattis in the sidelines in our urban cosmos.

What dawns your mind when you hear/read/think of 'malnutrition'?
Most likely than not, it's images of African Children starving to death.

So, like me you would be surprised to know that Ethiopia & India share the same malnutrition rate. 47%. Check out more on the report card on child nutrition 2006 here.

Feeding a hungry child is not charity its a social responsibility.

Ironical

Can it get more ironical?

"The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating -- in work, in play, in love."
Anne Morris (part of a quote from The Way I See It #76, Starbucks Coffee)

Strangers & Friends

"Strangers can be friends. As much as friends can be strangers"
- DK & I

She says I should stop being a martyr...

Will try madamoiselle... [by the way, the French women are campaigning against the usage of the address "mademoiselle" traditionally meant for unmarried woman. As they are questioning (and rightly so) that why should an unmarried woman be addressed as mademoiselle and a man de addressed monsieur (whether married or not). Talk about equality (and fight for fairness)

Now you know why women are the fairer sex!... ok bad one. I agree.

KJ- Quite ironic that this post ended up being feministic ;) !

More than a question

What unearthed this burried question was an invite for the screening of a documentary film produced by Tiger Watch 2006, 'Curbing the Crisis'.

The point in question: Why dont documentary films have a public screening platform?

This takes me back to the time where I first watched documentary films.
While in college, as part of the media course, we had this two-day documentary film-festival, which was really an eye-opener for us and a foot-fall to rouse mass interest in the genre of documentary films for the makers.

Now the docus screened, spanned diverse issues from manual scavenging still as a practice in northern states (can u believe it?), to communal riots, fanaticism, wildlife poaching, rehabilation of tribals etc.,

But one film, struck a chord with the audience. Called "The Bee, The Bear and The Kuruba", the film is a narration of a story by a Kuruba (tribal) grandfather to his grandchild by the warm flames of an evening bhaitak. He tells the kid of bygone years, where kurubas lived in their homelands in the Western Ghats; wildlife and kurubas lived in peaceful co-existence, the kurubas doing with whatever the generous forest had to emanate (which is why the film is called "The Bee, The Bear and The Kuruba) .

Greed took over, loomed largely by encroaching and poaching. It left the genuine kurubas with little or no hope of living in their homelands as they were coerced to vacate in trajectory of dwindling resources in the forests. The agony of evacuation and a distant memory of the heartland shimmers in the eye of the grandfather as a curious innocence shines in the eye of the little one. The film moves you to a pensive mode and does so with titillation. And it effaces fallacies that documentaries are boring, long-drawn and snivelling.


Google linked me to EKTA indicating that this film was selected amongst the top 15 films for 'Travelling film South Asia' to create awareness of South Asian docus in regional and global level.

Which gets me back to the point in question "Why don't documentary films have a public screening platform?" What about awareness here and now? Possibilities may range from lack of an interested audience to highly opinionated issues (but isnt ours a free-country? or so does the constituition righteously claim) to Censor board's regulation (I feign mighty ignorance here) .

And sadly the film-makers take trouble of reaching out to people who need to be voiced, making the film with cringing resources, and then liaise with people for screening their films to create awareness?? Instead why cant there be a place for such screenings where people get to know about what's lurking round the corner? Is the faction of people who would watch something realistic than imaginative really that negligible? How many of you reading this would go for the screening of a documentary, thereby expressing a willingness to see, hear and know reality?

There is no harm in being well-informed and sensitive to certain issues than conjure boisterous marvel at box office hits! I believe, in the long-run and larger span of life, 'Ignorance is really no bliss'.

Will the 16mm ever have a public viewing platform?

That thing they do...

The politicians politicise everything.
And the media, they glamorise and dramatise everything!

Doing everything and nothing that they should be.

The days of inequality are here to stay, relish them!

Fresh strokes of casteism are reiterating that the days of inequality are here to stay.

Its 50 years and more since India unshackled its chains from Angrez and the Aazaadi we live today is dovetailed into political games- a story of the player and the played.

What with 50% reservation for OBC's (and some more for NRIs) inequality is back with a bang!
The Professional Drama Company of India (comprising of talented chair throwers, screamers, effigy-burners', cheap-electoral trick players and few numerable suave orators), is known to be a sharp and manipulative lot hankering after power like vultures swooping down every opportunity to peck on the votebank. They are playing the same games the Angrez did- DIVIDE AND RULE!

There are many views shared about this enraging issue already-

• Efficiency and quality will be hampered
• Many who claim OBC status are not infact, economically backward.
  
• Many so-called 'higher-caste' people are economically poor and do not have enough money for education forget higher education
  
• The hardworking lot will continue to working hard and the others will smoothly walk in with their sheet of paper with the stamp of inequality on it
• OBCs will succumb to the maneouvers of those politicians and vote for them in their short-sightedness and that of the politicians.
  

But what angers me most is the passive protest of those this move will affect the most- those who slog it out for merit. A photograph of Ambedkarji was wrongly reported to be removed by a BJP politician in Karnataka and there were rasta-rokos, effigies burnt and slogans yelled! This is going to affect the YOUNG people of India in more ways than one and here we are... blogging and silently petitioning online- who are we scared of so much??

And why aren't the Kalam's, Jethmalanis, Jaitley's of India speaking a word in honour of truth and justice??

Think of that dabba where the ballot papers are put. Just think of it. You will get the answer. Its a power hungry pedestal and a slumbering VIRTUAL lot.

A song for TIME

There is a song for everything.... this one for TIME
and Chantal Kreviazuk just makes TIME come alive into a person

Time, where did you go?
Why did you leave me here alone?
Wait, don't go so fast
I'm missing the moments as they pass
Now I've looked in the mirror and the worlds getting clearer
So wait for me this time
I'm down I'm down on my knees I'm begging for all your sympathy
But you (I'm just an illusion) you don't seem to care (I wish that I could)
You humble people everywhere (I don't mean to hurt you)
Now I've looked in the mirror and the worlds getting clearer
I'll take what you give me. Please know that I'm learning
So wait for me this time
I should've know better
I shouldn't have wasted those days
And afternoons and mornings
I threw them all away
Now this is my time
I'm going to make this moment mine.
(I shouldn't have wasted those days)
I'll take what you give me. Please know that I'm learning
I've looked in the mirror
My world's getting clearer
So wait for me this time
_________________

humming along....

Links

Some interesting links on Nature and Wildlife

Get linked to:

Wildlife Times
Western Ghats
Indian Wildlife Club
Indian Jungles

Colonial hangover

Amongst seasoned Derby goers, a freewilly like me felt discomfort beneath my feet, as i waited for my 'very' punctual friend (much like me ;) ) to join me.

The oval green tracks made me want to run on it (ofcourse u're not allowed to step on it!).

Well-groomed ladies and all men in suit, prim and proper, sipped on vine as the city cast spells of a scorching summer to come ( yes, I reiterate, the men were in suit and tie too).

The long wait ends as my friend walks in, in formals sans suit.
Some members take notice and raise objection to him not wearing a suit.

Now, March is no time for a 'winter' Derby, definitely not in India atleast!
And that's the kind of a post-colonial shadow we live in. Its called winter derby, and be it pleasant or scorching hot, you've gotta be in a suit!

Hail Britishers! We got our freedom, but we still cant think on our own.

Wonder Years

Park amusements every evening,
Cycling the summers away,
Picnicing Nruptunga hills, carrying with us sandwiches, cake and cookies all 14 0f us.

Being a pest to the rest
(Esp sis n bro)
Playing lagori till we lost the ball or rather until we couldn't find it no more,
Playing badminton till the sunset blinded the shuttle,
And carrom, snake & ladder, ludo, scrabble after that sunset.
TV was turned on when Malgudi days, Ramayan and Mahabharat were on air
And we counted commercials in the breaks.

Then came satellite TV and changed the importance TV had in our lives and that of friends' too.
Some took on to reading books. But many, most, went with the TV.

October cast beautiful skies and stars too.
Festivals and celebrations beckoned us hometownwards
Striked a bond with cousins that careless childhood had shed away.

Evening walks and treks one fed on,
Munching chips and sipping coke.
Opinions commenced to form
And slowly one opened to the world around.
Like Thumbelina.

The wonder(ful) years have taken their rightful place in memory and mind's eye.

Bonded Labour

Now dont be deceived by the title! Nor by what is generally understood of bonded labour.

Am not referring to the bonded labour we studied about in history textbooks (who knows if its not history yet- existing in a lost corner of yet another ignored, remote village). Wat am referring to insinuates the labour rendering into years of working with the same organisation, people, household or even a cause for that matter. Its almost a labour of/ for love.

This is an ode to these three men I see at work everyday.

Parshuram ~ 20 years and still going.
Never been late/ absent on a single day except when he's been bed ridden. He's a hallmark of recognition at the place he works and a role model too.

Anant Jorapur ~ 11 years and climbing higher.
Class 12 education. Humble beginnings of a worker. A story of focused toil and alchemy that now stands him today as a supervisor. His equals are science and engg grads.

Ravi Kankannavar~ 10 long years and he's still electrifying.
Yes. He's an electrifying electrician and mechanic. There's more to him than his soiled cap and laconic smile. Just a look at a machine and he dives deep until he makes the machine roar again.

On another note, the place I interned at lost almost 12 people left in one year.
(Guess its all about the alchemy of the right people in the right place doing their rightful thing)

Really, gone are the days of bonded labour.

Young Changemakers

The Ashoka Foundation, as u know, supports young social entrepreneurs who render societal change ( u'll find the link to Ashoka to ur right).

The very thought of youth engaged in societal change is incredible.
While a lot sit back and speak, they sit forth and act.
Commendable!


And this time around... its awarding them.

Change is the only REAL constant. And may it always loom worthwhile.

Knocking some sense...

Save Trees. Trees Save.

Upside down, inside out...

That screech beckoned them to rush...!!
In exasperated gasps and weak knees the victim pointed out to the big fat, scary, stodgy, dodgy, unusual, (ugly- if I may call it so!)....guess wat?...... LIZARDD!

Brooms, brushes, bags and all came in a jiff, as the mighty "MoP-it-out Operation" began.
Soon things went flying out of the room, few went to their rightful places- some dustbins and some on shelves. In astute alarm they stood- waiting for its every unexpected turn. They stood like Tom but Jerry was smart and he whisked.

Beds got turned upside down and every nook and cranny got scanned. But it hid in a place no one could find (which is why it was a lizard!).

Soon everything fell in place as the evening advanced into the night.

And as midnight came crawling so did the familiar "big fat, scary, stodgy, dodgy, unusual, (ugly- if I may call it so!)....guess wat?...... LIZARDD!"

And speed knew no bounds as quilt n' pillow were gathered in a flight leaving behind the luxury to the LIZARD to do what it may please- LURK AROUND!

How true...

'The only thing worse than hearing the alarm clock in the morning is not hearing it'

A greatly acclaimed book

A greatly acclaimed book.

This is how the read goes...

Start.

Marathon reading continues.

Get cozy.

You start to search for what the acclaim was/is worth (unconsciously though).

You doze halfway thru the book.

You tell urself the best is yet to come, its a greatly acclaimed book, after all.

You read with renewed vigour.

You keep searching

You check the language.

Recheck the language; get immersed in the story, the characters, the philosophy

(if there was one)

Its the end of the book.

Finish.

You wake up.

Keep the book aside, nonchalantly.

?

Yes. U question--- what was that acclaim all about?!

Paintings...

Amazing paintings of Lord Krishna here . Go to the 'Art' section in the mainpage.

Thankless Job...

For all the curses Indian roads beget,
One glance at the men and women who make the roads (Indian roads)
would hang a different perspective.
In heat and rain they toil and slog
With no protection from sun, rain, wind and dust.
Caps, sunglasses, raincoats...... you need your true companions.

Leave the lads in the heat and heap of dust
Eat food in the heat and heap of dust.
Sweat, blood and nerves- 6o:40::men:women is the moolah they make.

A million thankless jobs done and a silent blogpost written in honour of them-
one they would never see, hear or know about.

PS:
(Irony- sunglasses donned on those in air conditioned cars, cocooned in
moderated, dust-free cool temps)

Two things I told my friends today...

1. Why dont u give IAS exams a shot?
2. This is one sunset of ur life that you'll never see again. Go watch it...

Ancient and Noble

A 24 yr old stops for a moment...

These are the days of autumn,
When leaves fall and trees go bald.
Its when ur skin goes dry
And u gotta apply coldcream.

These are days when fun, frolic-filled days are a thing of the past.
Unlike college days, also a thing of the past.
Friends are scarce and have also been a farce.

When cousins u grew up with, in the farm-yards and tree-tops
Are entwined in 'the' life so 'busy'
When u meet, everything is but a facade.
The innocent, playful summer days
And teenage wonderyears spiralled round conversations till 12 midnight,
Are all gone.
Now midnights everybody resigns to bed,
As silence dawns and the clock strikes 12.

These are serious times- of career and life.
When questions float in your head like oil in a pan
And lofty life ideas and ideals dilute in the thick of reality
A slow vision dawns-- everyman and everything in his/her place of mediocrity
The vision is clear, they say... than ever before.

These are times when parents want to settle u down
And tie u forever in a nuptial (what!) knot
Those things an Indian girl would know,
Caught in a timewarp of contemporary upbringing, world-views and yet INDIAN ROOTS.

These are times when grandparents are going (some gone)
They leave behind childhood memories, their dentures and stories hold 'em behold
The ever-tender-loving-care too.

While everything looms blue,
Nothing's changed except the world around you.
Its time to run. Its time to fly.
Its time to BE a butterfly.

Its time to see the eternity that never changes:
The sun still rises
The monsoons leave puddles behind
The fields go green
And the stars shine bright.

Dont let things get to u
Dont get caught in the mundane rut
There is money to make and goals to achieve

But let one thing remain and reign
Let one thing forever stay
The innocence of the heart that flutters with the butterfly
And gazes at the stars with overwhelming wonder
Let the train rides be fun as ever... peep out the door and let ur hair loose
Hold hands of friends and run in a merry-go-round
Sing nursery rhymes loud and clear
Eat ice-cream like its gonna melt in a second
And eat chocolates like teeth were not ur care

Cos when u turn 25 you would not feel ol'
For the body grows ol', the heart- younger.

Kick ur feet up in the air, stay a kid, forever!
Stay!!! Forever Young!!

For my folks and friends

I hope u reap as much u sow.
Even more than that.
Luck does that.

(Pluck some more luck...)

Do Taana

Do Taana was a thematic dance presentation we did in college for Darpan (choreographed by Anita Santanam), reflecting the conflict in our lives between what makes us happy and what earns money, between what we want to do and what we ought to do. This conflict manifests itself in every decision of our lives - Whether it is choosing careers, or life partner or anything else.

Do Taana in Bengali means torn between two things. While material acquisitions can be flaunted and have a lot of props, what truly gives us happiness such as art and beauty are often intangible - thus the lure for material possessions.

But money has its own complications as our desire for money grows so does the difficulty in making it. Money spins a dark web of envy, rivalry, jealousy, that
people often lose themselves in its pursuit.

However there are people who resist its temptations to do what gives them joy.

In this presentation we captured the conflict of 'everyman' between material desire and true joy and beauty, through creative movement.

Do TAANA...

This is the world we live in...

An e-mail forward that rings some truth...

Last month, a worldwide survey was conducted by the UN. The only question asked was

"Would you please give your most honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?"

The survey was a HUGE failure...

In Africa, they did not know what "food" meant

In Western Europe they did not know what "shortage" meant

In Eastern Europe they did not know what "opinion" meant

In the Middle East they did not know what "solution" meant

In South America they did not know what "please" meant

In Asia they did not know what "honest" meant

Teeth

On a field visit on work, I was visiting few farmers in Kittur region of Karnataka with scientists from Central Institute of Medicinal and Aromatic Plants (CIMAP) and my colleague Manjunath. So, we met this elderly gentleman whose lived 64 summers called Mutagatti. He's retired (doesnt look though) and still continues to work with farmers, guiding and encouraging them with know-how.

We were by the sugarcane field and Manjunathanna pulled out a sugarcane by the hand, broke it by his knee (even i did. The sugarcane, not my knee ;) )

I slowly start to peel of the hard outer covering of the sugarcane and there I see the elderly gentleman who's way ahead of Manjunath, the others and me... (looking at his strong teeth and the way he was eating the sugarcane, my teeth were almost falling off!) who finished the stuff before we could muster even half. Mighty teeth!

Amazing he was/is. He says, " When my father was 90 he could do it and am only 64. With generations.... the strength drops"

The point he tried to make was with generations, one has feeble, brittle teeth.

Dentures save us!

The sparrows have gone

I really dont recall the last time i saw those brown-feathered petite birds.
It must have been very long back.

They say its the waves in the air that shooed them to near extinction. The waves that keep us cellular mobility.

And another strange but true analysis goes this way:
Apparently none of them woman clean the rice grains at home anymore.
We get cleaned, pakaged rice.
And hence, the birds have food grains no more.

So they all flew away to pastures where people probably maintain indigenous practices and live more natural lives and still winnow the rice.

The sparrows are said to be with them, in a land called far far away... from the reach of marketing ( the entire gamut of it included- branding, packaging etc...)

Your Majesty...

Your Majesty, this is in your Honour!

Raft along...

Rafted for the second time on river Kali (with her mercy)
and this time i swam in the river... ah! Sheer bliss!
The previous time i'd only floated on its serene waters with the affectionate sunshine all over me.

Hmm....i want to freeze the few hours that gripped me with the raft, the oar, the team and the sparkling river, the banks of wild trees and spectrum of green, the hornbills that flew over, the spirit of adventure, the instance of being in and consumed by every mili second of the NOW...

FREEZE!!

In my ear.... 'team forward...stop. team backward...left back and right forward...stop...there we have a rapid...all forward... and inside..." (instructions the rafting guide gives u)

Been rafting before?

If not.... go for it! if yes.... go for it again ;) cos am going to.

(Hopefully this time it should be Trishuli river, Nepal).

Boomerang?

It seems like a boomerang which globalisation and the new economy have brought about.
50 years ago, the sun was believed 'never to set' on the British empire.


Today, the world is flat. And probably economics and equality and the east will go hand in hand.

Am referring to the UK Govt downsizing and outsourcing govt jobs to India.

Tears

Rage

Joy

Pride

Sympathy

Empathy

Love

Shame

Pain

Victory

Loss

This... and many more are the emotions that tears sometimes express.

What's in ur eye (I) ?

Celebrating India

Here's to the country of a billion people
(but whose citizens are feeble)
Of diverse cultures
( and power-hungry vultures)
The tolerant land of many religions
(but sections that want divisions)
The sub-continent of the world- where the snowfalls, desert trails, the tiger prawls
( where diplomats and infrastructure flaws)

With all its shortcomings, its my country, its my land.
Here's to it!!
Here's to those who gave us our freedom.
Here's to the soldiers that guard our frontiers.

Jai Hind! Vande Mataram!

From my poetry collection...

Bamboo Abode - Author Unknown
I sit along in the dark bamboo grove,
Playing the zither and whistling long.
In this deep wood no one would know -
Only the bright moon comes to shine.

____________________________

Alone Looking at the Mountain - Li Bai

All the birds have flown up and gone;

A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other-
Only the mountain and I.

Liberation, just as it's called...

The toughest terrains, very often leads you to the most rustic and natural splendors. (Is that also the way LIFE operates?)

Nestled in the woods of Western Ghats in Kirtigadde, the Dodmane forest range, hides a precious pearl in the deep seas of natural splendor, away from prying and lurking human eyes.

27 kms from the coastal town of Kumta, Karnataka, this four km rugged trek in the forests overwhelms the nature-bug with cool air, green facades, tall trees, small leaves, some thorns and steep paths. Some silence and some rustle of the leaves on the trees and a hustle of the leaves beneath your feet...

That unusual deep echo that swallows the enormous forest, is of the mighty 'Woodpecker' (I learn and see) pecking … The woodpecker-bugger’s deed exactly goes into five solid beak-peeks into the hollow woods of aged trees to feast on the worms inside of it. While you follow you’re the sound and your’e eyes are delirious to spot the clandestine creature, the sun manifests in omnipresence felt through every ray of light that penetrates the forest and floods it off the otherwise nescience it’s engulfed by.

Huliya, a local tribe and our very interesting guide, grew up around this forest. He knows its nook and cranny and walks the forest like its his home... he makes around 50,000 from whatever he manages to pinch off the forest- honey, curative herbs and some spices etc. Local liquor enchants Huliya’s tongue much like the addictive beetlenut and supari he chomps on. We stop by his brother's home in the middle of the forest! Its aesthetics thrill me- that thatched roof and the indigenous home paraphernalia: the rug, lamp, cot, areca nutcase, the staircase, that stack of cane (soon to be weaved into baskets), the honey-making pot hanging outside the hut… the immaculate painting around the auspicious tulsi plant at the porch of the abode and the sweet hospitality, show just what a different world the people of the wild live in.

Soaking and basking in the MOMENTS, I learn how to hoot in the forest, which is a communication protocol, letting your camarade ahead of you know that your'e on the way. He must do so if he hears it... it means you’re together and all's well.

Once you touch the floor of the forest... you see the river flowing, gracefully yet wildly.
And there starts the second lap of the trek...by the river bed... a bed of rocks.

The sound of the leaves, the beak-peeks make way for the sometimes gushing and sometimes trickling water... making you feel you belong to it. You walk against the course of the water. (So, the water runs past you giving you a surreal feeling of going against the tide, walking back in time, of turning things around, like your going back in time to find something you might have forgotten)

The walk on the rockbed... ends with the graceful Mukti Falls surrendering its course of journey to the river. And I plonk on the rock like a nomad who finds solace in the wilderness, like a yogi in pursuit of liberation.

You can sit and gaze at her, you can sleep and stare at her… she’s all over you (am referring to the waterfall, if you're wondering ;)

The waterfall surrenders to a pool that cordons the waterfalls and the rocks that I sit on.

The pool drifts to the future course of the waterfall… gushing into rocks and paths that humbly wear off, making way for the never changing, ever new, water- the elixir of the earth.

Miracle Man

He’s no magician. He doesn’t produce ashes out of thin air. He does not have a huge fan following.

He is 100 years old

Does not wear seeing aid or hearing aid

Talks for couple of hours

Reads some more

Even walks for a while

Sleeps sparse

No bloodpressure. No diabetes.

No Alzheimer’s. No doctors.

Washed his clothes till he was 95

Went to his farm till he turned 99

( He founded one of the largest business empires, one of the best known in this side of Karnataka).

What else is this if not a miracle...

He’s Mr. Bindu Anand Rao Desai. Aka B. A. Desai

Ajja (grandfather), as I call him.

I'd gone to visit him recently with my sis and b-i-l and it was heartening and humbling to see him and be with him. He hasnt changed much from what I remember of seeing him since I was a kid. Just that he is less deft.

Ajja talked about how he'd lived his life. And how he went to Bombay to do business. He would comfortable expense an entire day with two rupees. He talked about the does of 'bara annas'. He said casteism wasn't around in the early 1900's... but got worse later. He's lived one helluva life! and continues to do so. A life of SIMPLE LIVING, HIGH THINKING.

Words of wisdom from ajja:

He says, smiling, hands clasped, his face with the radiant glow of a life lived with integrity:

“So u think, so you are. Remember this always. Thought is the mother of action”

PS: His ever-smiling face is a miracle too.

Crazy is normal

I’ve deduced for now and its here to stay: crazy IS normal

Attitude

Time is not the best healer, attitude is.

questions again...

is time the only healer?
then... what about love and prayer?
and that thing called sacrifice?

why?

(loved ones have the power of emotions vested very tightly with them...)
a big incident and a rather small one made me ask...

why does it hurt to see a loved one in pain?
why does it hurt when a loved one says a rude thing, intentionally or otherwise?

simple questions with uncomplicated answers.
yet, not all that simple at all.

Unwritten words and a distant gaze

somebody asked me this year to associate myself with a thing and the one thing
that spontaneously exploded in my head was
RIVER
so, iv put down this picture i took on a recent trek to western ghats
seeing this river reinforced my identity, my being, my world

Let my thoughts evaporate into thin air.
Let my fleeting thoughts fleet with time and tide.
As I curl myself in thoughts, that melt me into NOTHINGNESS.
The abode that resides between time and space.
And the days goneby.

I peep through my arms curled around my knees,
See myself down the cruise that was 2005 with a distant gaze that goes without a blink.

A pivotal year in broadening horizons, achieving milestones and setting many more.

Failing some, winning some but learning and unlearning all along.
Seeding new dreams into fertile landscapes of a near future.
A future that seeks change, a future that needs an eye, a thought, a deed.

Memories and togetherness that etched themselves like those encrypted on stones that tell stories of eras gone by.
A time span of new friends, great books, of i-deas, of places and people.

Been to new places, discovered great friends(hips) with people who were always on the horizon but guess the right time hadn't come yet: Disha, Rajiv and Jiti :)

On the threshold of 2006 is a year that has with it an untold mystery that will unfold and blossom with every second.
This year is dedicated to making life more fruitful and meaningful.

chEErs tO LiFe!

Serenade

The LOVE one feels for a country is not something we see in our daily lives (thanks to holidays aka August 15th, Jan 26th atleast we remember that back in time there was a national outrage, where blood, sweat and death people did for the NATION).

Today, it features not in our talks nor in our scheme of things. In this bottomless pit of the self, today, what can we really stand for as a nation?
Not that we do not have the resources or the capabilities. Probably we are better endowed today than yesterday. Nor are the needs scarce.

Ive been listening to the Vande Mataram album- what a beautiful serenade for the country. So that's what gets me to wander in the thoughtland of nationalism et al...

A strong contender for national anthem, Vande Mataram written by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee in 1876 was rejected on controversial grounds. It depicted Hindu Gods and would be seen as offensive to the Muslim populi. Nevertheless, it was the first song of freedom (for freedom) and nationalism that vibrated in the vocal chords of thousands.

What a come-about Rahman made of this lost and forgotten ancient serenade for independence. I also distinctly remember a Shubha Mudgal singing Vande Mataram and Shobhana speaking Bharatnatyam (her dance has that much of clarity).

The sound of this song is so beautiful, ancient, moving and embedded in a collective cry of all the ideals and ideals alone that got the world to watch what satyagraha and ahimsa could do. Here is the script in Devanagiri:

वन्दे मातरम्
सुजलां सुफलां मलयजशीतलाम्
सस्यश्यामलां मातरम्॥

शुभ्रज्योत्स्ना पुलकितयािमनीम्
पुल्लकुसुमित द्रुमदलशोिभनीम्
सुहािसनीं सुमधुर भािषणीम्
सुखदां वरदां मातरम्॥

कोटी कोटी कन्ठ कलकलनिनाद कराले
कोटी कोटी भुजैर्धृतखरकरवाले
के बोले मा तुमी अबले
बहुबलधारिणीं नमामि तारिणीम्
रिपुदलवारिणीं मातरम्॥


Trivia:
Wikipedia tells me that Vande mataram was voted as the second world fav in a BBC voting

In chorus, lets say, Vande Mataram....

Blogger's block

So, blogger's block it WAS.

Learning point...

This was (is??) the view from one of my classrooms in college.
Christ College, 2000-2003.
Pristine, splendid days.
Its one chapter of life, one loves going through-with fun, memories, friends, so much of life that one learns and doesnt.
Yes, those were the days. Without a doubt.

And its also about this one statement that they kept drilling into our ears...
[somehow can't disentabgle this (mission statement) from this post]
Fellow Christites, isnt it?

"Christ College is a nurturing ground for an individual's holistic development to make effective contribution to the society in a dynamic environment."

ha, ha, ha!!

Moonlight walk in the urban backyard...

Went for the customary sunday evening walk with Appa (dad) and kid bro Samit.

We walked from sunset, past twilight to moonrise.. n moonshine for over two hours.
As we walked away from the residential locality into the backyard of the city...
the empty spaces threw us open to the fast-shrinking open-spaces and skies.
The colors of the sky changed from blue to orangish red and a violetish-blue as the day slept into the night and two stars twinkled.

It was remarkable as this was the first time we lost our way in so many years!
The moon lit our path with gentle light and the conversations kept us going. Not halogens.

I take this as an omen to the forthcoming trek in the western ghat forests.
Looking forward to the moonlight-trek. Five more days...

The Power of One

This ad made me sit tight years back when I first saw it. I was in school then.
I was overwhelmed by its visuals, music and message too.

"Not so long ago, a little girl in Alabama, wanted to go to the same school as everyone else.

And a gentleman from India wanted to raise consciousness without raising his voice.

In East Germany a man wanted to break free.

And a woman travelled the world, giving hope to those who had none.

This is the Power of One.

To protect your home in the Amazon

To prevent poaching of the African mountain gorilla

To rescue harpseals in Finland.

Or to care for the environment in your own backyard.

The Power of One is to do something.

Anything."

Eversince, One Earth Communications has lured me and my interests in protection of the environment. I went back to their site today and checked out their campaigns from 1991-2000. Really awesome!

In my capacity (I could fare better), I have stopped using plastic. That's my little bit to the great harm we do each day to Mother Earth.

Am gonna tag my friends here, and ask them to write something they're doing or going to do, to protect Earth in their own little way.

Apoorv, Ayush, Divya, Karanjeet, Rajiv, Samit, Saurab

bliss

I sky gazed after long today.
The silence of the night and the distance between the sky and me are filled by the thoughts that rattle my brain.
I put a full stop to my thoughts.
And concentrate my eyes on the twinkling stars and bask in the vastness of the endless skies above me.
My mind absorbs the calm of the night and my body freezes in the crisp cold air.

Here am at peace, with the universe and myself.

(As i climb down the stairs back from heaven, I carry with me four shooting stars' sightings. pretty cool I think! A friend in another place, sighted 2. We were almost competing!)

paradoxical....

the way weddings look to me (guess everyone too), they' re supposed to be 'traditional' - the attires, the pujas, the music, the food.... n everything.

ive never comprehended why then, during weddings, men wear those suits (not all men, but most of them atleast...) that isn't traditional attire.

is it??

you have all the women gorgeously decked, donning traditionally jewellery, saris et al...
n there the men are , especially the bridegroom, wearing a suit!!!

seems so weird! imagine a woman in a business suit during her wedding.

paradoxical!

something about the train and me...

i was in the railway station this morning to receive amma (mother).
as i walked, i seemed to absorb everything about this place, even though it was the nth time i came here..??
the people sleeping in their make-shift sleeping spaces in a wait for their train to come and take them home;
the chaiwallah making for a fresh start to so many;
the coolie in anticipation of his early morning wins;
the sleepy-eyed, hair tussled passengers tugging along with fatigue and luggage;
the cartloads of 'goods' lying unceremoniously that are to be hauled onto the next 'goods train;
the newspaper and magazine stall with a just-now lit incense that wafts strong aroma and a thin, amoeba-like smoke ( i try to follow it but it vanishes into the air...)
the enginge honk and the chuk bhuk of the train that is changing tracks and the slow grace with which it carries its vast structure;
across the platform a nomad sits idle, gazing into nothingness;
the dog wags its tail and comes close to many. only to get shooed;
a train or two arrive in an announcing fashion, of its arrival..
the sound of its movement, the momentum of the moment, the intensity of the engine, the roar of the honk consume me completely.

what is it about trains and me?

on those long train journeys the speed and sharp direction of the train and the way trees and lakes, houses and mountains run past you (even though its me running away in the train), the sheernees of peering down that lake right under your feet!!
at most times its the people you get to see. their mannerisms and colloquialism,
what they speak and what their bodies speak, the way they eat make for an interesting time for any keen observer.

but its something about the train and me i cant figure out what.

wait a minute. could it be that it probably embodies for me, travel? new places and new people? a discovery of sorts?

i guess i quite know, now, why my heart leaps everytime i see a train pass by....

chuk bhuk....chuk bhuk...

hey, there i spot amma!

sleepy-eyed, hair tussled amma tugging along with fatigue and luggage??

some (musical) memory tags...

where the streets have no name, with or without u- U2 (forever favorites! elevates me completely!)
better man, eternity-robbie williams (favorites too. they are both like some prayer i think :) )

those were the days- mary hopkins (reminiscent of friends, conversations, dreams..)

speed of sound- coldplay (the speed of this song takes me to bombay. miss bombay so much!)

fragile-sting (reminds me of the 'fragile' in every 'eye' i look into)

imagine-john lennon (peace some more... stop making pieces of peace-my cry to warrers (not warriors)

eye of the tiger-survivor (this one boosts me back to swing when i sway low...)

swades-OST swades ( what am I doing FOR my country? what? when?)

thayae r-OST morning raaga (love the progressive music melange of carnatic classical and western classical here. its evidence of how diversity can still be homogenous n sound like soulmates. it makes me feel, may be, i should give me (y)ears to more indian music, classical i imply.

From old pages

Was reading my old diary and found something i'd written when I lost the State level badminton tournament doubles when in the 10th grade.

one man's gain is another man's loss
one man's weakness is another man's strength

and practice only makes u more luckier.

this intense feeling....

I've been having this deep feeling
that LIFE is too short,
or too long,
for me to allow myself the luxury of living it so badly...

have GOT to work harder...

daily wage earners

This has occured to me for the third time this week. And Providence is surely telling me something I need to take note of.

I've read about this once on a friend's blog, conversed about it with dad when he saw this veggie vendor on our drive to work and said they truly have a judgement day each day. And then, i read about it again today. My favorite columnist, Subroto Bagchi, in his friday cloumn- Times of Mind, wrote about daily wage earners (must read his columns are!) and what risky lives they live.

Seriously, imagine.... working each day as if it were ur last. Working to sustain basic needs, than weave castle-eyed dreams of fame n name. (Oh! what a shame).

We have all we need. More than what we need. And yet.... we're drawn into the entanglement of want and desire...

Surely, as Anju says, and i quote her here (she's referring to fishermen in their boats she'd seen in the sea while she was on one too) -

"perhaps we all need to be in his place for atleast a day in our lives.
to realise what fear is.
to revel in solitude.
to learn to hope.
to be the first to catch sunrise or sunset from close-quarters. "

May be, only if each day's work fructified at the set of twilight, we'd work more harder and give it all we got in us. There would be no procrastination and no lethargy, in saving for another day... what might have been fuelled this day.

Perhaps we would be more real.

quotes- my pick...

I've for years, cherished and jotted quotes in a brown-paper book of mine.
Quotes that comfort you with their wisdom and insights.

Quotes that heal you with their sound and reinforce your beliefs.

Sometimes, they phrase what you faintly feel, experienced, say what you want to hear and know.

At all times, they make you reflect on (your) life.

Here are few quotes from my book:

On relationships
"Where the vision is one year, cultivate flowers.
Where the vision is ten years, cultivate trees.
Where the vision is eternity, cultivate people."
- Oriental saying
( My environmentalist friends would say, cultivate trees, anyway. Seems perfect to me too ;) )

On Travel
There is no happiness for him who does not travel!
Thus we have heard, the best man becomes a sinner.....
Therefore, wander!

The fortune of him who is sitting, sits;
It rises when he rises;
It sleeps when he sleeps;
It moves when he moves.
Therefore, WANDER!"
- Author unknown

"As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can."

- John Muir.

On Life
"In rivers, the water you touch is the last of what has passed and the first of that which comes, so with present time."
- Leonardo Da Vinci

"Its not your blue blood, your pedigree or your college degree.
Its what you do with your life that counts."
- Millard Fuller

On Love
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage."
- Lao Tzu

"Love does not begin and end the way we think it does.
Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up"

- James Baldwin

Others

"Dont worry and fret, the chances have just begun. For the best jobs haven't been started, the best work hasn't been done"

-Author unknown

Those things that hurt INSTRUCT!

However, the one that comes close to me in time, here and now... is this one:

I find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see

(my addition-all the untrodden and unseen places I haven't been)

Disha, thanks for this

This is our age, our time.

Instead of enjoying the youth, exploring the world, being adventurous and finding ourselves, we go about working tirelessly for causes we dont believe in, wasting every second of our lives...

When will we live???!!!

We are losing our uniqueness everyday and becoming part of the crowd of people who have given up!

roads....

not referring to country roads. not even referring to the analogy of ' down memory lane'. today i took two modes of transport (which i usually dont in hubli) that compel me to write about these roads... (u usually dont realise what i did on four wheels... two wheelers n those three wheeled rickshaws tell you loads)



the bike: had to come home with a colleague on his bike this evening. i was starched holding the handle n keeping my eyes shut. while i got a complete body exercise! all i told this guy was, i just hope i dont fly off the bike n land on the stony road.




the rickshaw: on the way to the gymkhana to play badminton ( my daily ritual i've now resumed after school...hmmm... been ages) my head thumped the rickshaw rod and to make it worsse the smart rickshawala would just not negotiate his exhorbitant fee (unreasonable...without the meter!) and that storm of dust left my eye watering....

a myriad experiences, that shook me, literally! devre!! (translated from kannada to english means god!) what bad urban roads we have! that have dents like craters (actually...) and raise dust like a hurricane (this is a slight exaggeration)! heavy rains n this is what's revealed-the seven inch tar roads have just an inch there the rest gone up in corruption n public rape of the tax-payer!

villages u can forget about.......they dont even have proper lanes... but cities and towns? well, they have those ruptured roads that only are a showcase of integrity of the damn buffoons we vote each time (or may be we dont vote)...

i truly think we live in magnificient urban jungles where the wild beasts are all of us-- those buffoons and us citizens included (who just get frustrated with the roads one day n learn to take the roads the way they are the other day). we have such wonderful rustic roads, so earthy and divine that we not only to get to smell the earth but also have coats of it on our faces and clothes too.

that's when am left with this song in my head..... (pardon my version of the awesome original)

mama, take this dust of me

i cant take it anymore

its getting too bumpy with bumps to my bone...

feels like am knocking on hell's roads.....

knock(ed) knock(ed) knocking on hell's roads!!!!!!

id prefer to leave on a musical note----will prepare me face the music da next time am knocking on hell's roads.....

few things i want to do before i die

a quote i read, got me to jot few things i want to do/ have/ accomplish/ be.... before i leave...

the quote reads-

"make a list of 25 things that you want to do before you die. and keep it with you, wherever you go" author unknown

here goes my shot at it-- extremely utopian...

1. farmhouse abode by a riverside with my music, books. where id till the earth organically.
2. travel n explore the length n breadth of my marvellous country!
3. drive down peninsular india, basking-in the seaside roads, gushing in waves of delight
4. wake-up at 6 every morning
5. go to vrindavan, the birth place of lord krishna
6. sit by a river one whole day, just watching it in a mountainous landscape. a book for company would be perfect
7. adventure sports of land sky n sea... m leaving out space!
8. social entrepreneur
9. always be there for my inner-circle
10. film few documentary
11. write travelogues
12. learn to play a musical instrument
13. do my bit to educate kids in my country
14. keep my parents n siblings happy
15. make candles n bake
16. grow younger each year

to be continued......

ps: am far removed from all of the above right now.... but, am fast reaching there. very close to atleast a few things... if not all.

Ranga

It's amazing how he connects with u.

It's in the way he leaps in joy when he sees u.

It's in the way he runs and his ears flap like wings of joy.

It's in the way he digs his face to the floor, n toys his eyes all around.

ranga's a pure vegetarian

loves fruits right from apple, papaya to watermelon n oranges. bananas too.

gorges on cauliflower, cabbage, carrot, potatoes n many more

adores buttermilk, relishes cereals and pulses

he sniffs and looks around, if there's no bread he boycotts his meal!

LOVE YOU RANGA!

Ranga, first syllable (ran) pronounced as in 'run' and the second syllable (ga) as in going 'ga ga'.

in vain...

one of those days that rain ......

in pain and disdain

in hurry and so much worry

in rubble and immense trouble

in puddles of muddles

tangles of bangles

and

u end (and the day ends!) in a

circumspect of retrospect, prospect and also something that they call introspect...

where have they gone...and why!

looking at that canopied road through the window, i see those strolls i took on the lane by my home. it used to be a walk of hi's and hellos....how r u's and those long chats one has with neighbourhood pals...

at other (special) occasions... the ganapati festival was a time when we all got together brewed a dance or skit, played a game or two. sang and danced till two... the new year parties were freaking times with bon fire and all... diwali came by with its calories and savories... to say the least.

when i take that stroll today, Prasanna's in the U.S working with Ford after his M.S there. His sister Renu is in Bangalore doing her M.B.A. Ridima just went to Bombay to do her undergrad in mass com. her brother Manik, is in Gurgaon doing M.B.A. Both her cousins, Ashutosh and Vishal are working in Delhi and Bangalore respectively.

we talk of brain-drain to the U.S. but i have seen it here. in my very own backyard...

and i ask myself... where have they gone? and why?

then i know... what will they do here, unless they decide to be second generation entrepreneurs, not many would choose that over the opportunities of the service-economy the world has evolutionised to be in.

like we say the rich grow richer, the metros in India grow & develop... and that is the call of Urbanisation and bright young lads thronging for fierce challenges, fun n frolic n a fast-paced life... move like atoms in the orbit to higher levels of income, better infrastructure for entertainment... n that much more independence....

now i ask myself... will they ever come back??

ps: unmentioned go the girls who got married and had to move base and change their surnames too.

Lemonade i made...

There are stories, there are memories. And there are recipes. So, here's the story of my memory of a lemonade I made.

Story, memory and recipe- All in one...

Goa, September 2003

Brimming with mirth. Contained by the sea breeze, sun and sand. A night spent by the sea waves and stars. Enthralled by jet skiing and camaraderie, Ashwini and I set out determined, looking for a wholesome vegetarian meal that would suit our nearly-cleaned-out pockets and the hunger pangs, taste buds too.

Time was sparse.

The scheduled departure post-lunch, had left us with little time to say 'good-bye', 'see-u-soon' to the setting sun which would have cast a marvellous glory of colours on the horizon. The point where the land meets the sand and the sand meets the sea and the sea sends its ripples to the glaring-fading sun.

But the sun had some things else planned for us. And we kept walking by the narrow lanes, looking left and right and often at each other. Either out of our budgets or menus a feast for non-veggies, those restaurants just had a way of keeping us out!

………………………compromises. Yes. There are those compromises too in those stories and memories. Hmm…

We settled for a restaurant slightly up our budget. Managed to order a one pot meal-biryani and a portion of yoghurt. That cost us 175 bucks!

And what about some drink to soothe our dry throats? No moolah.

For that, I sat up pretty, head high and chin up. Asked for four slices of lemon… while Ashwini quizzically glanced, wondering what went in my woozy head.

There came the lemon slices and I squeezed it into the tall glass of water laid out for us. “Some sugar please.” I smiled. We stirred away sugar crystals to gulp down the most memorable lemonade of our lives, not once looking around us all the stares the waiters gave us duo…

And when we walked out we were glee with the mischievous lemonade we'd made, and almost satiate with the sumptuous main course.

And forever this would be a lemonade money couldn’t buy!

beats..

search the whole wide world and deep within urself
and u will find a triumphant, feeble yet a steady musical beat..
that of the heart.

what is life without heartbeats.
nothing.

lions and gazellles

am posting something i read along time ago...
keeps resurfacing in my volatile head...

here i go...


Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up.
It knows it must outrun the fastest lion
or
it will be killed.

Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up.
It knows it must run faster than the fastest gazelle.
or
it will starve

It doesn't matter whether you're a gazelle or a lion.
When the sun comes up,
you'd better be running

free? what's that?

nothing comes for free. nothing.
you either trade with your money or with your time.

romantic athiesm

something i subscribe to! completely...

to the 'gentlemen'

ladies and gentlemen, they say, always.

i wonder....

why are men gentlemen and no such adage to women?

may be cos men are harsh by nature. and they need to be specified as 'gentlemen'

and its understood that women are gentle.

so, no such prefix for women.

no, am no sexist.

it was just a thought.....

friend(ship)

'The only way to have a friend is to be one'
- Ralph Waldo Emerson.

My version of it-

' The only way to have a great friend is to be one'

an ode to my sister

this morning i received a hand-written letter from my sister.

i was touched.

so, here goes a poem iv written for her (become a compulsive computer person. have forgotten to write with pen and paper. my hands only jarr into the keybords. they cant write no more)pardon me o' sister divine. cos i emailed this to u.

the finest lady.

embodiment of care, maturity, precision and grace.
here she comes, sister o'mine.

she IS the way to everyone's heart.
cos she cooks food to perfection.
its her art and she knows its alchemy.
the pricest ingredients she has copyright to are her love and passion.

mane like lioness, grace like an angel
lips like strawberries, eyes like grapes, complexion like milk. teeth like pomegranate.
mind-like a garden
heart-pure as gold

she is the life of her life
and sister of a brat
also the sister of 'gentleman kid-bro aka puttu'
she is one of her kind. and there can be none like her. never. ever.

scoot down memory lane. stop. its childhood.
irritate. is wat i did to her.
pest. is what i was to her.
fight we did.
repelled we did. like magnets.

scoot. look back. its adulthood.
of 100 friends, she wished me best.
of 100 worries she helped me out.
she held my ever meandering hand. stood by me. stood tall and strong.

come here. now.
we are still magnets. but we dont repel. we attract.
she is my sister.
she is my mirror. i look into the mirror-with all the happiness, all the tears, the pain and the shame.
she is my voice. she is my song.
my heart happens to be very small.
and in its small space, her place there is forever.

blessed i'am.
kneel i do, oh lord-keep for her life's best.
fortitude for times tough and rough.
make every wish her reality
make every dream her accomplishment.

scoot. go far flung.
we will be together till the end of life.
we'll be parents and grandparents.we'll share life's chapters.

we've grown as kids, we'll grow senile.

till the end. and after it.

reams of dreams

travel writer. mountain-hiking guide. photographer. documentary film-maker.

social entrepreneur. linguist. ethnographer. anthropologist.

its scary when u have dREAMs to do and be all of the above.

(will the doer strike hard and soon?)

going down with the load of reams (of dreams....) my ticket to ride...

still dreaming....

wont stop ever...

Running in circles…

I see a child running round n round in circles…
Circles of joy…
Circles of innocence
She’s smiling to her hearts content
Gurgling as she takes each step
She is joyous.

Her curls flutter in the air, eyes blink but for a moment
Sleep might steal some precious moments
So she doesn’t stop…
Her eyes twinkle like the stars she loves
She needs no reason to run in circles
Love is all around her…
She is soaking in joy!

All she wants to do is run around… in circles of joy!!

illusions...

i wake up in the morning feeling like am in a tree-house.
the trees around my home cast this illusionary bliss.
wats more (un)real is the birds chirping.
no cacophony. no buildings n furniture being made.

and in the night, its starry starry nights.
the clearest skies i have gazed are from the roof top here.
the elevation positions u as being closest to the sky (and not the skyscrapers).

the most real experiences one savors are rather illusionary. blame it on illusionary perceptions...

wandering ponderings...

deVASTated by nature's wrath,
overpowered by its tumultous rage,
nimble egos crumble.
fumbling under their breath, even if only for a second, in helpless agony.

how significanlty insignificant we are.
us homo sapiens.

right from the tsunami, to the incessant rains that hovered over us like a mighty-messenger telling us all helplessness in our face, grinding the city that never sleeps to a halt and the city of lost lakes to a rain-water-logged city.

in this picture of nature's maganinimity, look at deve(il) gowda lashing it out on naive Narayan Murthy. Bush tyrannying with Iraq (come on USA...haven't u learned from Vietnam.. Korea.. doesnt ur heart bleed for erasing innocent faces off the earth??!)

and like many, the thing that stings to hear is what Iraniand Head of State Mahommad Khatami recently said-

to wipe Israel from the face of the earth.

whatever little power we have is dovetailed in enemity , greed for more power, lust for/of war, craving for blood and death.

when are we going to rise above all of this?
what is it that will humble us?
why does one man's (or woman's) thirst to be all powerful destroy human lives and economies?

will the good really ever triumph over the bad?

( as i come to close this post, i see kids in my neighbourhood out in the garden, playing in the mud with cheer n delight.

time will peel them off their innocence and unfold a world out there, they wudn't have ever conceived. the world we are making for them)

music to my ears....

This urge to write something, say something... drifted me to hum a favorite song of mine... current favorite, i mean....

'It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved'

..... that's awesome Maroon 5

and that brings me to wonder what a baneless life it would be without music.

Cant seem to fathom each day without music.
It not only adds zest to life but is a constant companion to one's self.
It connects us with ourselves and to people who connect with it.
It helps live each day better and beautiful.
It alleviates mind and soul.


Disha n myself have hummed songs on those dinners after work, travels to pune, n local train journeys, on the trek to junnar where we sat on the cliff of a mountain n not only soaked-in silence and the wild beauty of the valley and but also the waterfall-thrashing along with the Linkin Park song ''I've become so numb.
Walks with Dinelle in Bandra were sing-a-songs shaping up bonds.

Karanjeet calls me one sunday late noon and plays me the song Sunday bloody sunday... she was speaking to me through the song...

Avinash once told me that when we meet we would sing till the singer became the song. ( Avi's a great guitarist).

I recently was on a petite getaway... to which i took only myself n my radio... to an island.
Eerie as it was to me... I was walking on a street. It din't have a name.
And the song that goes on air is 'Where the streets have no name''

Then there's this tramp who i was following and he gives a penny to a fellow tramp (probably gave away his last penny) n Bruce Springsteen is in earshot with his ''Human Touch''

These things make u sit-up and somehow see the mysterious orchestration of all that's around U.

Music is like the mind...

It makes u think... and FEEL
It tells u what to do and what not to...
It screams at u... ridicules u n nevertheless consoles u
It excites u... makes u happy n sad....
It makes u cry... steals u away to another world...
It takes u to people n places faraway from u...
It boomerangs u to the past and catapults u into the far flung future...

And it is with or without u always....

rUde

why are people reckless with other people's feelings?
why do they say things lightly n pass a cold air of hurt...
without even knowing... without even caring to know...

some of those questions one never seems to get answers to...

Uncommon talk with a common man

After my work out at the gym, I paced up the stairs to head home.
Stopped by to read through a paper and hold my breath.

I was deeply buried in an excerpt on business ethics, when a rustic hum drifted my attention.

The guard was humming, without realizing he was audible…
And that was the beginning of ‘some’ conversation I’ve had in a while…

‘Bhayya, aapne gaana seekha hai kya?
Nahi madam, hum to gao main gaate the… jab sab milke program karte the, UP main’

Two consecutive draughts ruined his farm, some row in the village and a desire to break-free was why he was here, in ‘pardes’, in Mumbai.

I asked him why he would stay in a city like this, where he dint have family, no proper place to stay… that made me realize he had been thinking about it.

Why was I talking to him about this?? About him relocating to his village and pursue his ‘kheti’ and be in his village, in where he BELONGED.


As Steve Jobbs says, you can connect the dots only when you look back. Till then you gotta believe. That what’s happening is for the best and will show what it means later…

So this conversation will fall in place sometime… sooner or later. For now, it will be an uncommon conversation with the common man.

And may he hum along life......

Gandhi Jayanthi

Come October 2nd...
everyone remembers and celebrates Gandhi's jayanthi (birhtday)-
the media, the government, the politicians
and we, the people as well.

Well, Gandhi's is not an occasion, Gandhi is not a celebration,
Gandhi is not a page from the history....
we should not let him be either....

Gandhi(an) is a way of life...
living each day by his pronciples is his true celebration and
commemoration....

Living with peace, humility and righteousness is THE celebration...

A better nation we will be by practicing righteousnous---
the media, the government, the politicians and
WE, the people...

So instead of Gandhi jayanthi... it will become...Gandhi JAYanthi..