Journey into the incredibilties of Life

Sunder Kaku: A Diary Extract

2012-01-31T08:37:00.000-08:00

I am woman ,if in love with a man could easily love his towel,shaving kit and bathroom slippers let alone his mother,father,friends and every other minuscule particle associated with his life.I have often smelt the shawl he used in Jamshedpur winters in my dingy paying guest room.I looked at the rings that he had blessed me with.The grip of the rings made me feel his fingers between mine.A secure feeling of love and care if I perceived never existed but had existed all the time.

Between my eyelids closed in prayer, I can visualize the figure of a man in white "dhuti-panjabee" and a red dupatta tied on his waist...two earthern "Dhunuchis" (earthen pots to offer Arati to the Goddess)one in his hands and another balanced on his magnificent forehead.....With an angelic smile as the "dhaak"(A bengali drum announcing festivity) roles begin into a vibrant Taal...The man danced with poise,devotion and prayer to Ma Durga as if it was the last dance of his life.The drum rolls got harder and louder and the feet of the man bounced back and forth in the air till the sacred ash aroma-ted the holy air of Ma Durga's prayer days.

We were taught to call him "sunder kaku" from our early childhood..which literally means "beautiful uncle".Not sure why a bald man who spent his life working in the heat of steel furnaces in tropical May summers of an industrial town;disbursing his hard work for a family which in blood was not his own...had to be called "beautiful" when there are hundred other adjectives in the English lexicon to describe a man with extra ordinary intellect,talent,language and skills in art way ahead of his time..but this was his name.

Some men are born ordinary and lead extra ordinary lives and then die and ordinary death.Much like a statistical bell curve.Sur Kaku's life in my eyes is like that.Not everyday you would find a man born half a century ago going to a European country,learning to speak fluent German and living with friends.Then setting up a whole business from scratch to a successful level where budding children grew to be successful and truthful human beings.Sur Kaku didnt marry in his entire life.He perhaps loved a woman unconditionally...an acumen for money making,dedication and hard work multiplied with the skill to make sandwiches for sick people and be my their bedside...and this is where I stare at the paradox of life...Every girl's dream men remain eligible bachelors for their entire life...perhaps no women are good enough to be worthy of his love..

...I slept in his arms many times even though I was over age to sleep in a parent's bed.I held him during my hostel days saying I didn't want to be left alone in an alien city in a den of alien girls...he was my first date in Bangalore,a city bustling with young dating couples.We watched Mission Impossible 2 together and he bought me a blanket in my first Paying guest I inhabited in this city which is now my home.Years passed and he represented my parents by travelling to my college hostels in Delhi and Bangalore..assuring in the train journeys that I got the best pillow in the journey and my feet didn't ache..He wept the day I graduated from business school.He wept on the day when my mother expired saying "tumi amar ma"(I knew I meant the world to him more than all the children of the house who were his own not by blood but by virtue of a strange love affair that is beyond the understanding of someone who has not met him.At one instance I remember, I gifted him a trophy saying "world's best human being" and another instance where he told me how helpless he felt for not being able to find me an eligible groom.

I suffered massive heartbreaks,dumps and relationships.And in those instances I made him a part of it by explaining on our weekend phone calls how painful life can get.Days passed,years passed.I lost both my parents and Sur kaku lost his friends whom he had stayed his entire life with.But he said he would do till the time he could and whatever he could.Rajendra nagar pujo committee didnt see his exponential leadership in organizing the community durga pujo of our colony anymore and he slowly concealed himself in a shell with a white shirt,prayer and dedication to his friends and responsibilities.

He wept when I laughed.He said "tomar mukh dekhlei ador korte iche kore"(feel like loving you when I see your face).He wept when I cried.He wept the day I got married when he solmnly prayed for my happiness and did my kanyaa-daan to my husband.I was sitting by the pyre..still unsure whether I was marrying the right man and I glanced at him from my heavy viel and wished this man was 40 years younger ;then finding a groom in this mad world filled with people of high expectations would not have been a long tough story for me.He wept and wept.

And that was perhaps the last time I saw his tears.Several times in this incredible era of perennial heartbreaks I sent him a text message saying "Please dont leave me and go to God..I am still not independent,I need you".My heart feared of the humongous deadly and devilish agony of a heartbreak that would crumble my already broken heart if he left me forever...but he just complained of minor illnesses and weaknesses of old age concealing his ill health under his patience.

He breathed his last.I was in Goa with my husband enjoying a vacation.A phone call customary to my phone every weekend ceased almost suddenly.I didn't cry.I didn't move.He left me with a divine grace wrapping all my fears of losing dear ones in heart breaks and death so strongly...much like the steel furnaces he had worked in all his life.No fears touch me.No insecurity holds me anymore.I dont cry into my pillow because people leave me and go.He took away with him ,the most ugliest part in my personality, my insecurity of losing dear ones through heart breaks and death.I have received many gifts all my life.But the strength I feel from within is the biggest gift I got that night.

"At times we do not know what we actually want,our parents know it and grant it as a gift to us when the time is right"

A Lifetime of Memories

2011-12-07T07:16:00.000-08:00

The chilly gushes of winter air used to rattle the glass window every night.It played with the moonlight meshing into the curtains of the house.The music of the wind felt like a guest at the door.But no one came to the empty house except the silver full moon who neither spoke nor smiled.The fridge groaned like a snarling lion in an isolated forest and the kitchen lights were off.The kitchen had an exhaust fan to allow the stuffy kitchen air to move out in the event of lively cooking.But in its absence it moved from right to left in a full circle and then left to right in a full circle again diligently obeying the direction of the midnight breeze.

A bohemian streak of the inhabitant wanted to leave the emptiness behind and move on.But the wind kept stranding enough for a suffocating limit to expel the true meaning of impatience.It seemed again that a guest had arrived but it was only a small rattle of something in the kitchen that moved obeying the strong wind that had made its way into the kitchen.The cover shielding the cold air perhaps was not good enough.It still felt cold and empty.It also felt an unwanted guest may enter the door,crash and spoil the remains of the already isolated house.

The door bell rang.A guest had arrived.A warm guest.A smile, a light of hope and a warm beam of sun.Protected,cared,smothered in emotions,bathed in the extremity of happiness ..just to perhaps suggest the dawn is not far away.A soothing hand for an aching limb and a companion for a lonely body and soul.A lifetime of memories.A lifetime of memories to cherish forever.

The morning sun rose with a fresh dim smile dipped in a colorless abode.The guest and the full moon had left.The clouds began to shed a strange untimely drizzle.. more of happiness a proportional regret of failure and some streaks of extremely painful gratitude.A lifetime of memories stayed locked in the empty house between the subtle night lamp and the pale yellow hue of the rising sun.

My Simple Pleasure Rhyme

2011-12-02T07:28:00.000-08:00

Am flying without wings even if the Bangalore mornings freeze
A pink flower flushed in the morning dew sways in the soft silver breeze!

Girly giggles of kids and school friends even after years we meet..
A guitar to entertain accompanied with voices so sweet..

Bright eyes in a spectacle frame, and bugs bunny smile under a corporate nose
You appreciate my hard work and patience,it really shows!

A mail saying "sweets at my desk" pops up between responsibility
How else could I ever regain in office.. my human mobility?

An old hindi song that touched your heart when you first fell in love
Or the aroma of morning mud as your cell phone under the pillow you fondly shove

The sound of drums,the music loud,the radio in the car
Small little cookies in the conference rooms in a pretty white jar

Gifts packed in colorful boxes, a walk along the finely trimmed grass,
Memories of school days,college friends and fun and pun in class!

An appreciation in face book and a little "like" to which one has ever smiled,
Will know...our heart is so easy to please...still a little innocent child!

An Old Music Note Book

2011-11-11T06:47:00.000-08:00

From my early childhood I learnt to order and discipline my book shelf during my vacations.As I grew up I found the scope of my disciplinary action enhancing from the book shelf to the entire bedroom and now recently its graduated to a whole house!In such instances you could easily find me playing a little rat manifesting a home of his own in a stack of books that never budge even by the smallest angle and live in their upright positions for ages and ages when the owners have far graduated to reading pdfs on the internet instead:)Yes,a little rat with stacks of paper,identifying the reason behind the stock-age of each bit of paper,book,print outs of study material and insurance/tax papers and of course..dairies narrating heartbreaks and teenage crushes with creative pain to name it all!:)

Under the huge bundle of books on financials and accounting from management school,foreign exchange,derivatives and SQL queries,lay a notebook whose pages had just started turning yellow and the narrow piece of cloth attaching the hard cover of the notebook had begun to tear.Its my music copy!6th year...Robindra Bhobon,a music school in the beautiful town I grew up ,a young tabla teacher wearing spectacles who was my kid crush and a docile yet stern music teacher with an innocent smile who sat behind the harmonium imparting lessons of music and life to young little girls who remember her goddess face forever.Memories started flashing into me as I flipped over the pages!!

The pages were written in Hindi.Do I remember to write this script too?Ya with an Ink pen which papa offered to fill at night with a dropper by turning it half open?(Will our coming generations ever know this joy??)Do I remember what Braj(old hindi) language was meaning in their saga of romance,separation,womanly pride and zest of life?The sargams and Taans,taranas and thumris,the khyals and the music exams I gave!!Raag Rageshri and the Basant Panchami(the spring)and the thunder and lashes of rain.. .. flushed a new vigor as a sudden gush of adrinalin filled my viens.The images of Lord Krishna with Radha and his other girlfriends in Brij and the mention of Muhammad Shah in a khyal(a small song)!How appealing to the heart and how pacifying to the soul it had been.How mesmerized I was to learn the combination of notes setting the mood of the raags.Then the essence of taal and rhythm internalizing into my system like a sense organ...Raag Puriya Dhanasri.Well of course, I sang this for the audience with the tanpura in my 16 year old hands and any Meera Bai would shy at the talent I had exhibited those days!Raas Lila,krishna geet,couplets of poety.."iss dam ko kaa bharoso"(whats the guarantee of life,lets remember this) and sringar ras(element of romance)and prayer seemed to encompass my world and the values of guru shishya parampara and the values of respect for art and human!

For musicians and non-musicians who read this post:Its not the ink that filled the pages of a teenage girl's note book under her snub nose and neatly school girled braided hair.Its beyond the superficiality.It is how a growing young girl perceived romance.It is how a child's mind caught the virtue of prayer and it is how a soulful journey ends into the beauty of the realm of all emotions a human being can experience in a lifetime.It was about a spiritual build that stocked into a human being shaping her personality forever!

I dont know if I should say this,I pictured my mother who first introduced me to my music teacher.I thanked her for the gift of life she gave me ..no not birth,but introducing me to the world of the seven notes,the world of 7 hues, and the world of 7 different emotions and the world of pure love.My eyes were closed.They were filled with tears of respect,prayer,romance and agony.I didn't realize when my silence broke into pearl-like notes from my not-so-trained-like-those-days voice ;high and low I went invading into the emotions like a fresh water river in the indian rains,wiping away the dust of pain accumulated by relationships that had long lost its innocence and beauty.

Monami Badnaam huyee,Bollywood Tere Liye :)))

2011-09-20T02:52:00.000-07:00

My self-proclaimed-non-commercial-movie going husband complained of having interacted with a highly intellectual and musically trained fiance and traded it off for a wife who much resembles all the silly girls in Bangalore shopping malls who pile up their husbands and boyfriends with loads of bags full of shoes,belts,clothes and everything else that is available in the mall that day!...Much like the "bollywood" heroines...(I cant stop my laughter at this comparison:)..because... he will admit with his opaque grin...that he enjoys being ragged by the bollywood bug bitten wife adorning her sunglasses on her hair all weekend!!

... How or when the bollywood bug bit me is unknown to me...but I am person you could easily spot shedding tears over a heart break between someone as open about it as Deepika Padukone and Saif Ali Khan or even getting chocked witnessing a happy reunion of a huge joint family(read jobless but huge and rich)..and then laugh to bring down the roof if Johny Lever or anyone cracks a "poor joke" and quickly set foot on the dance floor if the percussion of punjabi drums hit my ear and then the vibrations travel into my heart in a fraction of a milli-second!!

The bollywood bug bite reached the epitome when I appealed for a "Bagwati"(a hand bag of the expensively tasted) and a Roman holiday at one in the night finishing the last bit of the cone ice cream bought from the overpriced PVR counter and then dreamt of Goan beaches and a guitaring boyfriend under the setting sun and a "Jannat mein bhee saap daste hai" dream...which on honest admission elicited two fat raised eye-brows under rolling eyes and dropped jaws for a husbandly response!:)

Hritik's grooves makes me flexible in my bone,Priyanka's confidence in the beats of Fashion Ka Jalwa could easily change my car's gear to the higher one and speed up ...Atif Aslam in musical form gives me shivers..I dont know how easy it is for Imran Hashmi to kiss his nth girlfriend yet I feel sorry if a girl denies him any privilages and I keep waiting for her to accept him anyways.Javed Akhtar in his miraculous poetry and Shahrukh Khan's tearful proposals proclaiming how we should love our parents ..

"Dil Toh Pagal hai" and one-sided love,"Singham "(zaroorate kum hai isliye zameer mein dum hai..wah wah!),and the "just do it" spirit of "Zindegi Milegi Na Dobara",and watching "Saat Khoon Maaf" with a scary eye on a friday late night show( where me and my husband would share suspected glances and assume the other hasn'nt noticed it)...discount Katrina's bad hindi but ever since "New York" the detention of any islamic immigrant is so painful on personal front is imaginable to me!

Thats where I stop to applaud our bollywood film-makers.They all have so much meaning of people who dont understand art,news and intricate english.So easy for a common man to understand the meaning and virtues representing and shaping a culture that is transforming into a blend of western and modern world in the wake of globalization.

Art and commerce can never live separately.If art decommissions commerce,it would be much like a theatrical artist performing under a spot light to empty chairs and if commerce boycotts art...then it would never stir emotions of love,prayer,joy and gratitude and hence would never sell.With all respect to the classical music and dance I have learnt,the age is of modernism blending Raag-Alaps into a commercial poetry should not outrage a stickler of old thought but entertain audiences who pronounce such needs by way of positive responses.Hence the scenery of art and commerce blend into each other and create entertainment.Its not for nothing that the self proclaiming art lover husband finally admitted after Karishma married a taxi driver that Hindi movies have a strong message that love triumphs over all inequalities of caste,creed and socio-economic status!

Corporate" Cavach":A Debate

2011-07-09T03:15:00.000-07:00

In the Mahabharata, the battle of Kurukshetra witnessed a very strong personality named KARNA whose values of loyalty and friendship is a benchmark for Indian generations.He wore a Cavach which his father had given him which shielded him against the vagaries of the war till friendship overtook him and he had to do away with it and it caused his ultimate end and destruction.

The corporate tag or ID card of my company makes me feel the same as Karna's Cavach many times.Try to quit your company and the day the exit interview guy asks you to hand over your ID card you might just feel an unexplained loss of self being!!:)

Isn't it more than just the fact that the company needs a resource to code,test,analyse and present to the client what he needs and a human being needs a job to feed his family??The company needs a desk, a system, a conference room and a cafeteria and hence it also needs people to use them.So much so you could say we are much like a fashionable piece of office furniture or the newest model of vedio conference or perhaps a utility that we may have written.. more than the human being itself.

The tag once hung over my neck had added a feature of achievement to my personality.An MBA who got a campus job....but over the years it has managed to entangle into my personality to some strange extend defying my core features of who I am."I am from Jamshedpur,I love my friends alot,my music teacher instilled lots of good values of humility i me..is all replaced by one single statement.."I am an IT professional and I work with XYZ company"!!What a coincidence of a personality change the world has brought us to....

Every Saturday morning(and every other morning) my Nokia cell phone's configured Outlook says there is a status meeting at 11.30 AM.It's Saturday dude!Come on....at least not the version release team meeting on a weekend...please!!I say to myself and click the red button on the left side of the screen so that it stops snoozing.They did not configure it for "week days" only perhaps ..sigh!!hence its beeping!!Am used to it...the meeting makes me feel my work is needed...it is valuable to my team and company.....yeh...but only for a few weeks till you realise........its all over...and all the seats with subtly smiling resources have left their chairs and manned some other project:)!

The project gets over next week.The hard work of the coders and testers will "go live" next week.The cell phone wont beep anymore.The team leader wont call me anymore.Perhaps he will delete my cell phone number from his contact list altogether as the memory of the cell phone may be saved for new "resources" who will man his new venture.

The person with the corporate cavach or ID card may be a different personality altogether.With the ID card on the neck we are more like the dog with a red collar who could be easily identified as the pet of a pampered wealthy well to do couple with honorable repute in the neighborhood.

My Team leader cribs if a baby cant lift a 100 kgs weight on his shoulder when he himself knows that when he was a baby he could not have done it himself either.But due to the tag on his neck his job is to see that the "billable" hours are really the client's asset well bought bereft of any coginitive dissonance...and he is paid for it!!

..ya..his flashy big car,his wife's classy hairstyle and his Iphone4 comes from the personality with a tag without his human emotions.In fact,not out of place will be to mention,we know a different person when we meet him for the first time and once he takes off his tag and then his shoes and then his socks and so on and so forth..the layers of his personality unleashes to a totally raw someone whom you need to accept without the make up of filmy glamour ..thats waht the person really is...but at office we see a hefty dog with lot of repute,commanding spirit,an irritating temprament that his fat salary has bought him and all his pride is linked to that...if you try touching that..!!boy you are a small dog..u will be bullied!!BEWARE OF DOG:))

Lets need our jobs a little lesser because they dont need us.They need a resource only.Lets need ourselves a little more.Lets enjoy the music in the breeze even on a weekday.Lets not eat Pizzas because corporate dogs eat it and pride themselves in it.Lets hit the gym and burn out the toxins.Lets smell the flowers of relationships and love.Lets meet friends and parents and tell them we are there for them and not busy with our jobs.Lets feel the purity of our souls and our hidden childhood covered under the mask of commercial knowledge.

A Yellow Bird and Tired Tears

2011-06-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

An unspectacled eye sees a suicide d pigeon hanging from a roof swaying in the wind , a lamp hung to show way in a pitch dark night.....

An artist performs on the stage a soulful speech with a beam of spotlight on his shadowy solemnness....screaming in agony for the audience to connect when the hall is an empty one with no applause to be heard..overpowering the strength of his performance so natural that it touches the base of his heart where pain resides happily and sadistically.........

He filled the air with aroma of flowers ..when asked to stay back..it left in a jiffy flapping its wings as if he had other things to be taken care of...without wasting time of effortless words.........

Someone can see her heavy dead body everyday falling from her sick bed with a huge thump...spilling blood from beneath her body and the efforts to lift her up is in vain because she has decided to breathe her last already not bothering about who may need her smile everyday.....

A poet fell in love and sent letters to his fiance but the letters never reached her..her heart was a humble one given to someone else...the bird flew off and dropped the letter in the sea.......

There is a yellow bird who used to sing songs of love and create lot of noise near my house..i had to close my windows to stop its noise, at times I used to cry to it,at times it made me smile.......this morning, after years ..it was suddenly not there...did i take it so much for granted that it got so angry and agitated...or is it just his own decision... he flew away into the abundance of the sky ........never to come back again......

A Strange Rain:Almost as Strange as Life

2011-03-19T07:27:00.000-07:00

It rained all Sunday.She covered herself in a filthy thin quilt in her bed and kept moaning in pain.The clouds in the city skies had been sobbing inconsolably all day and so were her eyes.Both seemed uncontrollably heavy with the burden of heat.The feeble morning sunlight overshadowed by the clouds finally gave way to the moonlit night:She still lay in the rugs with her eyes molten red with the heat of agony.

He knocked her door twice.She did not respond.He went back to shop and came back after an hour only to find the door locked like no one could ever break it open.He waited at her door step but she seemed to be merciless and non responsive.His umbrella was dripping rainwater with the drizzles and he was shivering in the chilly gusts of the evening air.When the semi darkness propounded hungrily on the sultry day,she opened the door with a creaking noise piercing the silence between them so deeply that it hurt her even more.He cupped her chin in his hands and the mad outburst of tears didn't stop for the next many minutes.

She said she had loved and lost.And over and over again.He said he loved her and didn't care.She said she has no trust in herself to see her love with another girl yet again.He said she would be fine.They could have kids together if she wanted.She looked at him and gave a wry smile.The sarcasm in her smile pinched his heart a little but he didn't react.He opened his umbrella and vanished in the dark drizzles.

She shut the door and splashed water on her face.She drank a glass of fresh water and gave a huge sigh as if she got a fresh lease of life.She opened her closet and put her Khadee kurta and a smart churidar near the iron box.She wondered that her apartment looked uninhabited in days.She mopped the floor and put on the fan.She placed the shoes in the rack and the books in the book shelf.She looked at her cell phone.The messages in the Inbox read..."Baby,isse achee toh tum ho".Another one "So you are sleeping soundly in ur new appt.Not scared.Strange,I thot u needed my help and got up thinking u calling me..so strange"...Another one..."I dont really have an answer,I cared and am sorry for what happened".She combed her hair and wore her specs.She took her cell phone in her hand again.Perhaps her job needed her the following morning.Her cell phone showed 3 fresher missed calls from office.She was not in a mood to talk so she opened her laptop and mailed her subordinates excusing herself for the last week absence on a silly premise.She wore her lipstick like she wears to office and her shoes.She peeped out the window.It was still drizzling and it had become pitch dark outside.

She undressed and put on a night dress.She wiped her lipstick and looked at herself in the mirror.The mirror silently asked her:Where were you the whole of last week?Long time Buddy,Alls Well?She smiled wryly and put off the lights.Her Mp3 was playing nice ghazals."Ek Lute ghar pe diya kerta hai Dastak koi..." and a few more tears rolled out...Then "Aina Mujse meree pehlee see surat mangee"..."Aina dekh ker tasalee huyee,humko iss ghar mein janta hai koi"..."Hai Janam ka yeh rishta...toh yehi hota..."Kyun hai.."

The morning dawn chirped into an orange hue.The sunlight bathed in the moisture of the rainy day preparing the city for the rush of noisy traffic.The beeping of horns and speedy cars towards office campuses started moving.There was one car missing in the traffic that day.A female manager's car that trotted into the office campus with the most beautiful smile of the day when the guard saluted her.The flowers in the Tech park that bloomed with her smile between her dark confident lipstick a dentifrice pronunciation unmatched,didn't appear today.The sunlight shone on her apartment door.But the door remained locked,never to open again.

"Sometimes multiple failures renders going beyond recovery.And the worst of it is that the point of outburst and no return is most often not predictable"

The Eyes

2011-01-29T10:25:00.000-08:00

Eyes that sparkled friendly bright
Amidst a lonely night

The promises are strong
And pronounces that never go wrong

Eyes that sparkled friendly bright
Amidst a lonely night

With arms to protect and embrace
No hurry of life that makes it a race

Eyes that sparkled friendly bright
Amidst a lonely night

Congeniality acceptance and lovely dismays
Hopes of novelty and a fresh sunlight reflecting rays

Eyes that sparkled friendly bright
Amidst a lonely night

Sudden losses we leave
For which one can never enough grieve

In those very eyes everyday
Lie a few broken dreams a stray...

Where the Mind is Without Fear

2010-08-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake"...

Rabindra Nath Tagore,the poet pronounces a ideal socio-political system where individuals as a single entity or as a group can remain happy.His beautiful and serene potrayal creates a picture of a natural habitat of green mountains under the firmament with a playful stream simply making it towards its river where it will end.

He dreams of a society where caste and creed has no meaning and the entire human race follows one religion and that is humanism.He reasons ritualistic customs as a differentiator of cultural norms ;but in reality the idealism of every religion is to equate human rights into the clear stream of reason over these customized methods of praising or calling God.Sovereign in the Indian Constitution talks about the same principal.My Visionary !My homages to think about this ideal principal and inducing the thought that drives our politics and social science today as an elemental catalyst towards happiness and perfection at individual self worth and healthy social group dynamics!

He also points the readers' attention to trade and commerce when he says fragments of narrow domestic walls.It takes a visionary to proclaim a thought that happened as a reality in the economic worlds decades after his death.Globalization and commercial well being in India due to the free trade,promotion of exports and easing out of trade licenses was a revolution in the 1990s when US started setting up shops in India with the congeniality of politico norms for the purpose of mutual trade benefits.

Micro level analysis of individual and group happiness comes with truth,trust and reasons.When words come out from the depth of truth,wow the proclamation!Whatever is said is done and there is no question of betrayal ,hurt and brutality then.Everything happens with a reason and thought and induces action.If such is a case with every human being in a group and company..there would be no method of unhappiness in the mortal world.

The Visionary appeals to the almighty,the creator who made lush green forests and the beautiful blue sky and the clear waters that we behold....proving His capacity to build perfection to utilize his potential to turn the socio-political,cultural and economic state of affairs of the Country and world into perfection ..!

Salute the simplicity of thought!!Salute the potrayal!Salute the Visionary!!

Anjana Kini

2010-06-05T03:22:00.000-07:00

My favourite hindi writer, Mahadevi Verma said..."Woh meree zindegee mein ek chotee see leher ki tereh aya...aur ananth jalsagar mein vileen ho gaya"...for a small boy whom she met somewhere.She encompassed the loss of meeting someone and the pain of separation which in translation may lose its impact to my verbal fear.But Mahadevi Ji ,this literary pain is indeed the truth of life....people touch our lives, touch us in special ways and perhaps....Standing on the seashore of life, they touch our feat like waves of the oceans and retard back into the endless ocean never to come back again....

This fear of losing people was surmounting so heavily on me that I had made a total surrender to God to accept the hurt and pain of losing close people.I walked up to the temple and spoke to God.."If you think I can survive without this man, take him away from me....if you think I can't don't take him away....my life is in your control today and forever...."

I was paying enormous rent at the cost of "safety" in an 2 BHK apartment and a parking space for my car...and safety is strongly a sacarstic remark because after shifting into the house...I often heard tinkling of bells,screeching of owls and barking of dogs and the fear that I would be in this house alone for the rest of my life and would die a spinster like the Parsi aunty in Jamshedpur who stayed alone...had a horrible temper and died a miserable death ...no one came to know that she was unwell till my brother saw her seat empty in the cashier's chair in her office and the town discovered that the spinster aged 85...had breathed her last.I often called my friend on a cell phone to just to say...am alive and am scared of lonliness...am honest I have lost myself to the vagaries of truthful life to have the courage to sleep alone....Its not that I had not done all this before...yes...I had stayed alone in my MBA hostel when my Delhi hostel friends made short trips to home...I was the same Monami who took a train at the age of 19 to Pune...a city she had never seen all by herself and gave her MBA interview and came back to attend college....I wonder which phase of life and what the vagaries of depression were doing to my personality those days!!!

..At such a time in my life...a smiling face with plumpy cheeks and round eyes showed up after a short phone conversation in introduction of a common brother that both of us acknowledged and regarded highly....I looked at her sceptically....but the genuineness of her smile had melted my tears...."I have left everything to God you know..." she said..."I dont know where to stay...they told me to vacate the house"...she still smiled...I was surprised to see that I am not going mad...women feel this way....Her name was Anjana.......:)

Between that day and today...our friendship took off into the sky of understanding, love and girlie giggles which dissolves all the problems that women have with life...From washing pots together to cleaning the rooms...My house became a home....I felt she would bring me good luck and I pronounced that...and miraculously...that evening ....my fianc'e called and said...."Will you accept my proposal for marriage".....Anjana.....kissed me on my forehead when I told this to her after I had confirmed my acceptance.

Take a high you people who hurt me to the extent and made me sway away from Classical Music...my vocals were my forte and so is Anjana...she likes the same ragas as me...finally someone to connect to my convictions....I wanted to clean the house...I wanted to throw away my jealousy into the pink dustbin in my kitchen and wanted my maid to take it with her when she left the house....I wanted to be good to my girlfriends....I really wanted...but they all got busy with their married lives and never had time for me....

Also not out of place would be to mention a short stay in House no.3 in my very apartment....where my PG friends had left me with an arranged cupboard and a big zero cooking skills and two witches in the shape of room-mates...yes...witches..I looked at them with dissolutioned eyes when they walked away with their packed dinners as if I was a dog in the house and I didnt know how to cook...my first day in the house....with whom my "Gandhigiri" would not work....Women have it in them I thought to care,to talk...untill I met those girls who never smiled, never spoke and never appreciated...they robbed my money on ration and left me astray when I was hospitalised till my PG friends came to my rescue....I cannot forget that day when I was carted to the hospital in emergency and I called my room-mates wanting them to bring my undergarments and tooth brush to the hospital where I was asked to stay during my tests....they didnt even wait for me to explain over the phone....sigh!!!

When Anjana entered the room I cooked vegetable and chapatis and offered her some pepsi as a releif from the hot sun....and that small act of motherly care was like a low investment high return investment.....she fulfilled the place of my PG friends and the feeling to share how men are so much like rubber bands..they come close to you and when you start needing them..they dont want you anymore......yet the joy that I found my right man...no jealousy and possessiveness... touched her the way I felt when my blind friend Kamu whose hand I held and slept in the last days of my PG ...proclaimed her marriage date with pride and anxiety...I am sorry Kamu....I was not 100% happy for you then...I didnt want to lose you when I was bereived myself...and today Anjana and my fiance' bring back the real convent nun bred Monami...whose heart filled with joy to see others happy.

I am the author of this blog....yes...I am http://monamibanerjee.blogspot.com/2007/06/gratitude.html

I wanted to add her name here....but the beauty of your smile and the womanly pride of having a friend like you is so wide that I cannot squeeze it in there.Thank you Anjana....for beleiving in me...helping me to bring back the love and faith I had in friendship...Thank you my friend for bringing out the best in me!

The Lost Hutch Cell Phone

2010-06-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

I recall a small shop in the basement of a staircase that lead to a lavish hair styling shop near the paying guest where I stayed in Koramangala a few years back in time. I also clearly remember a tanned face with a dentifrice smile below a spectacled longish face which popped its friendly head over a simple white table with all variety of new cell phones and schemes each time I went to recharge my prepaid Airtel Connection.

He knew alot about cell phone schemes and designs and he often adviced me to change my cell phone.He even took the liberty to extend our friendship to suggest that I am working in a multinational company and I ought to have a better and jazzier cell phone with a postpaid connection and that would suit my personality alot. And one fine day he showed me a cell phone with a bright blue rim, a radio, a colour screen, an MP3 player and a camera with which I could click pictures.He gave me an awfully reasonable price for all those features rolled into one so much that I suspected the hidden non-benefit that I may have.Indeed...he said only a hutch connection would work in it and I would have to change my cell number.

I was a big patron of Airtel and didnt quite like the idea of giving away my very cheap black and white mobile with an excellent keypad for sending text messages...with keys as comfortable as my laptop perhaps...and I told him that I have a digital sony camera and a separate MP3 to listen to songs and radio and I didn't need to weigh off changing my number to get these benefits.However his convincing powers were such that I ended up discarding my old phone and I went home with a brand new connection , an airtel one though and showed to all my PG friends.They all envied my new acquisition with so much dismay that my pride knew no ends.I boasted doubly about how nice it is...till within a week...before I thought I could message everyone that the new number is mine to use, the cell phone gave up on me:(and refused to work.

I went back to the shop to exchange it for a new one.The shopkeeper showed me the hutch phone again.Yet I bought another airtel phone as the sim he had given me was a faulty one.He apologized with an irritating grin which I surpassed grabbing the new phone and running back to my PG room.But alas...

..Much to my dismay...the airtel sim refused to work again...and again I found myself changing my airtel number and wanting to call a number my very own as many a times that no one would have ever tried.....I knew cell phones were not made for me and I walked away in dismay and sadness that a cell phone with an airtel connection can never be mine...the Hutch phone still remain...un-bought and idle..glittering in its majesty!

...Just as I turned my back, I found the grinning man..."Madam hutch "Togodee" Madam..he said...stressing on "Togoree"(take it)"Free Zoo Zoo Key Ring Ide" he marketted.......and I took it with much reluctance in deep discount...I had changed my airtel phone several times so had almost come to believe that cell phones are not meant for me...yet I took it because I really needed a cell phone.....I gradually started appreciating its features...but....:(((

..After a few days..I was travelling in a B.M.T.C bus .....when I got down the bus...my hutch phone had probably slipped from my jeans pocket...am sure no one had flicked it ....but I knew I had lost it....I wept and wept..I never wanted a phone and call a number my own ever again!

I left buying cell phones altogether after that... till my brother and sister in law bought a box gift wrapped in colourful wrapping paper for me....they had bought me a new airtel phone with the same features as the hutch phone....I refused to accept the gift.I didn't want it anymore....they forced on me the gift.

I have an airtel number now.But the hutch phone I lost was always a motivation to visit the shop with new models and keep customizing my requirements to the grinning shopkeeper.Its rememberence hangs on my penstand with its creativity and sudden expession of extreme joy in the form of the free Zoo Zoo key ring....sigh!!I miss the pampering and buttering of the shopkeeper in that basement shop now..I dream that I will encounter the hutch cell phone sometime somewhere even though it doesnt belong to me.I liked it alot and found it nice,handy and with all the good qualities I needed a cell phone to have....but am happy I have an airtel number to call my very own.!!

"God gives you what you need and not what you want.....Our wants are unlimited and unreasonable...Make a demand to God...if you really "need" it...He will not disappoint you...Keep the Faith"

The Guy In the Glass-by Dale Wimbrow

2010-05-30T08:52:00.000-07:00

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you King for a Day

Then Go to the Mirror and Look at yourself
And see what the guy has to say

For it isn't your father, or mother or wife
Whose judgement you must pass

The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the guy staring back from the glass

He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear up to the end,

And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.

You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum,
And think you're a wonderful guy,

But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass,

But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the guy in the glass.

"knew this poem long back yet I forgot the lines in a struggle story...sorry Guy in the glass.. shouldn't have forgotten you..We all pay the price of forgetting your verdict...and now I never will...even though I miss what I lost"

The Divine Acceptance:-)

2010-05-21T23:11:00.000-07:00

"A Long Thorny Path Often Reaches to a Golden Throne glittering in Respect and Majesty that You Deserve...Never Give up"

Tall buildings,noisy horns and the orange sun rays of a fatigued afternoon scared the little heart travelling in a big city..She didn't know what the restlessness was all about.Is it the lack of guardianship or is the loss of a parent that stirred it so badly?The heart wondered where she could find a place which would be warm like a parental lap..she searched and searched...the city roads were long and tiring...unknown faces turned into smiles ..she believed those smiles and loved them...only to see them fade away into the sea of city crowds....never to be seen ever again.

The journey pained.Her limbs gave up.Her best friends were gone now.The city roads had ended and the forests were to begin.The sun had set and the dim moon wanted to pour its silver between the meshes of leafless branches...The world looked an artificial dull blue from its eye.The temperory warmth was an illusion and would never be the same."Am I so horrible"..wondered the heart that people leave at my very sight.."Do I trouble too much if I want to talk...and why do I want to talk when people in the city don't have the time to listen..what has happened to me...by the way...what am I looking for?...What did I come to search?A parent,a kid,a friend,another heart to talk to.......where is this road leading to...till when will I keep travelling on these city roads with relentless toil"..The forests have wild animals and they may eat me now....sigh!!.. nothing scared her anymore....nothing can be more scary than those unknown faces turning into known and becoming unknown again.Nothing can be worse than swallowing the pain of thorns pricking its soft surface smeared in thin veins and soft blood.And perhaps this is what she was looking for...a dark place ...there is warmth here as well...the heart wanted to adjust there...called it what she was looking for and slept a deep slumber that stormy,windy and cold night.

....The morning sun rose with a warm smile.It blushed with purity and simplicity like never before.But the heart didn't bother.She didn't want to see it anymore.She thought it was an illusory face again which would fade away into the city crowds again.She would keep travelling again...The smiling sun followed her and said.. "you look nice"....She ignored him till he caught hold of her and planted a small kiss on her cheek and promised to provide the warmth she was looking for.He promised the parent,he promised the kid and he promised to fill the void of a womanly heart with his prayers and wishes...She basked in the sun for a while till she believed that she can turn all world's problems into droplets of joy for herself and him...forever.No Clauses, no ifs and no buts.Just a two way love...and .. "The Divine Acceptance"!

"Your love is the new sunny morning and the cornea of my eyes are still straightening to believe that this warmth and happiness is there to stay forever.."

Musical Instruments "Kotha Bole"(Speak)!!!

2009-06-27T22:59:00.000-07:00

In the beats of the Tabla lies the splendour of life, in the strings of the guitar progresses life from childlike shreaks to the gravity of Dadu's advice.....in the rippling notes of the flute...you may sway into the tranqulity of love and romance ...far away from the troubles of day to day life!They all speak...believe me ..they do!Much like you would hear a family in your neighbourhood speaking Tamil/French, a language you may not understand..and smiles may be the only conversation you are able to strike with them...around us resides a Family....around us...!!Let me play "Tulsi" from the "Sas Bahu fame" and introduce to this family...all of them speak!!;))

Tabla:Look at it carefully..The cute figured Tabla...is the wife...she speaks in a sharp tone and talks alot...and her pot bellied,squint eyed husband will interupt her in between all the time..."Dhab Dhab"!yet she keeps the tempo on...the lovely mommy with her "Dugga"(thats what it is traditionally called)hubby..sticking on to each other...playing the music of life together!

Guitar:The teenage Son!The spoilt brat!Whichever chord you wish will play the octave as beautifully as the other!Just like a college dude has so many career options and he seems to be good in all of them;)Very popular due to his good looks and the world seems to be at his feet.

Drums:Guitar's friends gang in college!!never get tired of making too much noise!

Synthesizer:Girlfriend...sometimes get to stay with him....looks very pretty and sounds sweet...rich(expensive as it is)good taste for clothes,hairstyles and accessories,like handbag,watches and clips.Its a surpirse package all the time!Friends call her "casio" like a brand..and for ease!

Cannot forget her world travelled and experienced Dad,The Grand Piano!!Whatever he talks makes alot of sense...and when casio gets older...will look like Big Daddy!

Violin:The girl of the family...a not so pretty version of her brother,Guitar...very quiet and cries alot...because she wants to be more popular...so cute...she wants to marry...so keeps crying...but no one notices her:(

Sitar and Veena: Are the maternal and paternal Grand moms...in some sense they look similar...sound similar and have similar tastes....by some strange coincidence:)

Flute: Cant forget the family doctor,counsellor,good person...who donates blood and does social service...someone you turn to when all is lost...he will speak healing things:)

See..there is a Family aRound us...and we haven't noticed them!

Your Eyes see what they want to see, your life is like how you see it to be,happy or sad....only two options

A Fresh Page: A New Place to Stay

2009-05-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

Its not that crackles of snow falls on your head in this part of the city
But winds of change sway you into hitherto unexplored spots of the same universe that we abide in
Till you mix and become part of it, you know that it was precisely what was meant to be!

The small square room with a window facing a non vegetarian kitchen with a pungent odor suffusing the little air in it….beamed a strong orange late afternoon beam of light on my wooden cot where I lay thinking thoughts of a random mind. Out of the random thoughts one of them dipped humugously low into the depths of hell like the stock market on Black Thursday and then suddenly shot up into the thought that it was some how a time to move on….

I had been nesting in a paying guest accommodation for over two years ….and the honesty of my supposition will proclaim that I had been subconsciously waiting for my dream man to come into my life and pull me out of all the adjustments I made in my Pg, praise me head over heels for all the good things I did for my blind inmates there and make me realize that I am good girl…Jand I in turn would forget all the people who have been rude to me hitherto in life because it is in his arm’s that I will learn to forgiveJWell..…the dream crashed into reality and the highway man came riding and went back without picking me up on his white horse….in the darkness of the night I did catch a glimpse of a pretty lady on the rare of the horse…it wasn’t me so never mind….all I knew was that it was not my high way man….and waiting for his arrival is a collasal wate of timeJHe will come when he has to…

I decided to move.Yes.With all those apprehensions of having hairy boyfriends inside the house, girls like chimneys and sponges when it came to cigarettes and beer when I found that things weren’t that bad either. My inmates were grumpy and silent as if they didn’t want me there..so I wondered why they had put an advertisement on our company bulletin board that they needed a third roommate.Oh yes,…the rents are on the higher side!I parked my car in the basement of the house and entered the room. It was a neater house much newer compared to my old room…much wider, much more positive and beautiful. The cleanliness of the floor attracted me…..I could imagine piles of unwanted hair that I used to shamelessly pick up with my hands and push into a dustbin that never existed….in my pG,,,and the hygiene standards of my house made me feel like am in heaven.

The white tiles were shining and sparkling in the sunlight as I rubbed my eyes and splashed water from a sink which twenty girls weren’t there to use and unclean….my own sink and my own bathroom…..!My eyes widened into surprise as a sudden gush of adrenalin rushed into my veins!

I had never cooked anything in my entire life will be an unimaginable story for many 27 year olds but somehow was a truth in my life. Yes…I bowled my maiden over of cutting onions, tomatoes, potatoes….and mixed all the spices an Indian kitchen deserved to have,,,,well…don’t ask me their names….they were all kept in transparent glass bottles and I used a pinch of all of them. I dipped my finger into the vessel of boiling curry and licked it soon after. I knew I had learnt to cookJThe onions I chopped made me weep so much that it flushed out all the sadness inside me…and now I knew why God made women the manager of the kitchen and why onions worldwide make it into a staple kitchen mandate.. Onion—the women’s outlet for emotional outbursts because men never let them express their tears adequatelyJ

Days passed and I didn’t open the window of my balcony because my roommates had forbidden me to do so…”There are pigeons”….I had spent a few summer evenings meshing around with the curtains trying to watch the pigeon sitting under tiny tennis ball like eggs. Last evening, the air became cooler and my roommates whom I hardly met were not there….the aroma of tingling wet mud…the one which I wanted to eat and taste when I was a baby girl with mango ponytails on either side of my head……….caught my nostrils….and the wide road overlooking my apartment was wet with a much needed shower…I could see a south Indian cyclist paddle tightly against the water current….he was perhaps rushing home..where he was meant to be that whike.. .I opened the balcony door and let the wet fresh air gush in. To my surprise the pigeons weren’t there…the eggs had hatched…revealing two tiny pigeons trying their best to fly.. the rain lashed on my face I closed my eyes and felt the wind hitting my face….when I opened my eyes…pigeons flew away..into the fresh blue firmament where they were meant to be.

“Driving Home the Fundaa of Life”

2009-02-16T06:37:00.000-08:00

Driving a car on a Bangalore roads
Identical to life with its satirical anectodes

The homecoming drive from showroom to house
Identical to happiness brought by new girlfriend or spouse

First timer’s accidents and bangs leaving unforgivable dents
Identical to shattered dreams your heart for long time repents

Ummm…now you bang someone car’s with unforgivable dents
And you may say “its not my fault,I don’t repent”

Insurance cover sets the car right after a while
Identical to parents and close friends who cheer you with a smile

With all this you finally learn to drive the car,gear,accelerator, clutch and brake
Only then can you say you are fit for a family life putting happiness of single-hood at stake

Traffic horns, auto drivers, cars and buses
Identical to people you meet and part as friends or enemies and worldly fuses

Gears up on highways and night driving
Identical to challenges in job and hobbies you enjoy to crack in life thriving

Clutch brake accelerator in traffic you coordinate
Saving yourself, your car and other’s car
Identical to interpersonal, personal and social relationships may leave no scar.

Ups and Downs ;a bumpy ride
Driving home the fundaa of life!!

:-Fashion Ka Hai Yeh Jalwa:-

2008-11-16T04:58:00.001-08:00

Priyanka Chopra and her movie is making big news in Bollywood after Madhur Bhandarkar decided to cast her in his brand of “realistic cinema” recently. Lest my post sounds like a clichéd read of a rediff or yahoo or a magazine clipping, I have more to say as a review and critic after watching the movie because it touched my heart in a special way.

Realistic cinema to an outsider’s eye rolls into the bottom of his heart to imagine if reality can bite really that hard as it is portrayed. For those who haven’t watched this brand of films or particularly this film, it is about a small town girl, perhaps like me, with different aspirations of course….to become a successful model. In her struggle to reach the top she clambers so fast that she does things which make her lose her self worth and self identity at some point of time. A point where she cannot recognize herself, who she is and what she is doing. Eventually however she recovers and hits at her aims again and the whole world views her come back as her success.

My critic’s eye watches the cause of confusion and anxiety in the glamour as its belongingness to a huge socio cultural community in which it breeds…. the “Indian” value system. It is depressing to imagine that someone must trade their values to become successful in his or her own country. Besides societal norms do not leave them to the mixed culture that they develop. Belonging to a Punjabi mother who wants to get her son married to a nice innocent girl is actually dating a guy because he has a different sexual orientation! Such challenges are a reality in India. In the west perhaps society would easily accept his preferences and he may not be ex-communicated from his tribe or culture. What I can drive home is the criss cross of diversity of the western influence in a conservative country like ours doesn’t allow women and even men… to grow in certain professions like modeling, glamour and some other allied career fields which perhaps have the same respect that a teacher, a software professional or a doctor may have in western countries. I am not being a problem solver to deny the right to a woman who is an aspiring model but perhaps then her self worth must remain intact irrespective of what challenges she night need to face in her journey to success.

Another aspect that touches my heart most about the film is the loss of “atma vishwas”(self confidence). Not exactly related to the world of fashion but just it is a generic truth. When you want something very badly, and you get it all of a sudden, you are unable to handle it and you tend to prefer more of it; you are ready to trade anything to remain there. Strange is the psychology of human beings, we want more of it till we actually trade off , in the process something either more meaningful which we actually want. The model runs after success and receives what she wants; but in her journey she has traded something more precious to her; her self respect.

My friend, Anusha wanted to marry the boy she was dating, so badly that she kept stifling him with her needs for security and possessiveness; subconsciously; in her need that he remains with her. She couldn’t handle the joy of having to date him perhaps. Eventually she lost her self respect in his eyes because these negative qualities were overshadowing the numerous good qualities for which her guy had liked her initially. And in no time she found him dating another girl who was more confident and balanced. I am not sure what genetic, hormonal or experiential difficulties have subconsciously made her have some gaps left to be conqured; where she has lowliness and depression, she is defininitly on the wrong end…its not for any reason that when every girl feels possessive , only this guy should decide to date someone else. She traded her self respect there. I feel she and the model converge in the same platform in life. The loss of self worth in the hurry for something you want really badly that you lose the same thing as fast as you got it.

Whatever may be the case, the pace of what you want needs to be slow and steady and that can only happen when you have confidence that you need not trade your time with yourself, friends, your identity and good qualities and talents for someone else…somewhere she lacked that, subconcicously…you should not trade your values for something you want…these external gains will make you suffer not only a loss within but also eventually the loss of the momentary external gain.

Now Anusha is paving the way to self confidence and fading the rich annulars of low self worth hitherto encompassing the beautiful personality she has by re-emphasizing her talents, being passionate about what she does and learning to give more than take. What will happen to my needs of security and my ambition is a selfish human being’s word. How about giving away as much as you can? One step towards self confidence and we can eliminate the realms of insecurity and embrace the light of happiness beaming in to embrace us every morning of our life!

Jab I Met Myself....(Again)!

2008-11-16T04:47:00.000-08:00

Purple evenings and watching the rain
The little heart will not know pain

Politics and games she may listen and learn
Literature, art and history she cannot unlearn.

Childlike mannerisms she imbibes from school kids
She says their creativity can know no bids.

Indian classical music and her relationship no one can define
Punjabi Dhol and beats still turn her on at party time!

Movies, books, theatre and art
With her personal opinion she cannot part

The corporate ladder cherishing knowledge with compassion she climbs
Still not losing her creative chimes.

Gym calls her early out of warm winter bed
Dance and rhythm burning calories she drops dead!

“I am flying without wings in the music of the dawn
Now my happiness and joy no one can pawn”

Home food, fruits and milk and a healthy life style
Steaks, pasta and pastry can have once in a while

Adorable friends from different states of a vast country like mine
Still in the magnitude of her own sub culture the small Towner shines.

Sadness loss and possessiveness she combats
Family and friends help by their adorable pat

Lovely inmates , shopping , parlour , soft toys and earrings… nothing to bar
She drives everywhere in her new blue car.

At relationships or participation she aspires to be best
No matter how life says how difficult is your test.

Ghare Baiyre

2007-11-21T05:26:00.000-08:00

Recently I read a story written by Rabindra Nath Tagore called Ghare Bayre.(The Home and the World) and places in the story has been so concretely touchy that I am motivated to share my compassionate experience of perceiving the writer's views.

Rabindra Nath/Robi Thakur(1861-1941) may need no introduction as an artist, devotional writer, musician, composer and lyrisict.This book, however brings out a distinct essence of the socio-political scene in the pre-independence period and precisely when the Swadeshi wave was catching up like wild fire in Bengal.The true essence of the impact on the trading class who were hitherto thriving on British stocks.There is a love triangle in the story where Bimala(the wife),Nikhilesh(husband)and Sandip(the lover)are distinclty different from each other in their concepts of life and imagination of what would be their ultimate ambitions.Truely hued by the flavour of political wave, their intentions take a swerl towards supposedly non-societal and perhaps immoral actions.This not only helps our reverred writer to potray the intense strength of the character and personality of the story but also how social, political and moral myths can dampen in their illuminity.

They say that the novel had created conteversy in Bengal on the grounds of immorality and non traditional vibes intended to infest the character of Indian social life.I stand to appreciate the boldness of potraying Bimala's courage when she steals her husband's money to fund Sandip's Swadeshi movement stunts.It also shows a glimpse of comparison between the 'moderate'(Nikhil) and 'extremist'(Sandip) view to one's love for the country and may be,life in general.How moderates get trapped into the philosophy of life on an overall perspective when a task beckons him...compared to the extremist's take on immorality,unvirtuous and may be socially incorrect intentions and a nver-say-die attitude which mingles their tasks to their ulimate goal in life.

Another beautiful thing about this peice of writing is the elegant potrayal of women in society.Not many writers have potrayed the true essence of the character of a woman being torn in the heart when options lie forth with her.....is it her love for the family or her self respect, is it her lover or her husband....how their immense courage has a boundary of fear...on the men who stand to guard that boundary can partake of any amount of love and repsect from her.Such a deep understanding of women touches me deeply.

There is a subtle element in the story line which makes the story to transcent over changing social, political and economic scenerio by touching the route of human intentions that spring from his basic character.It calls for readers to understand, appreciate and criticize the moves of modern day politicians.Calling a bandh may not be the best way to solve the Nandigram riots as may have adverse affect on the ventures of IT companies which may otherwise have the state to flourish.

:-DUSSERA PROCESSION AT MYSORE:-

2007-10-29T02:06:00.000-07:00

Known for its magnificent Palaces and Majestic buildings, sprawling gardens and tree lined boulevards, Shimmering Silks and Sandalwood, the 'City Royale' ....Mysore....thats where is where my family decided to spend the Dussera vacations this year...!

The Maharaja province of Mysore welcomed us on a breezy evening lit up with uncountable little lights adorning the state buildings and government offices.The Mysore palace looks like a newly wedded bride dressed for her wedding rituals over the 10-day festival.The city celebrates its royalty, its rich history of art, music and heritage of emperors like Nawab Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan who not only gave a brave and daring fight to the British who invaded our country but were noble patrons of art and lierature.They contributed to societal transformation, land and revenue, reforms , art and architrecture.

Basically, Mysore Dasara is a Royal Festival Celebrating victory of Truth over Evil. Legend has it that the Goddess Chamundeeswari or Durga slew the demon Mahishasuran on Vijayadashami day. Dasara is a 10-day festival in the region culminating on Vijayadashami. In Karnataka, Dasara is observed as State festival - Nadahabba, because of the celebration of the festival is steered by the Royal Family of Mysore. The royal family of Mysore performs special Pooja on the occasion of Dasara. During Dasara, the entire City is decorated and illuminated. Cultural programmes by famous artists are arranged in the Palace along with Sports, Wrestling, Poet's meet, Food Festival, Film Festival witnessed by a large number of people.

Early that morning we prayed to Goddess Chamundeshwaree...whose temple is constructed in true essence of the Hoysala style of architecture depicting its period of construction.It was only after breakfast that we realised that how the power of the Goddess has mesmemerised the city crowds as they lured into the temple like a an unending sea of human assemblies...!

On Vijay Dashami keeping up the historical Dussera celebrations of the last Wadyar dynasty of rulers of this princely state, a stint of the unique culture and sub-culture of the state and nation, initiatives of the govenment and the message of peace and celebration is depicting in the hour long procession starting from the palace and touring the streets of the city with colourful costumes, models, make-up, ornaments and models along with royally adorned elephants and horses.

The procession we saw had puppet shows, glimpses of the Karnataka local dance form called Yakshagana.An array of custumed folk dancers playing the drums to the rhythm of a festive heart beat pumping exotic enthusiasm and flung their bodies up in the air and back on the drum....Another array of dancers jumped into the streets following their counterpats in yet different costumes and clanging heavy metal cymbals on thier palms to demonstrate the power of the celebration. The exotic dance exhibition was shimmering with the enthusiasm of traditional devotion and a true respect for Art, the Maharaja and the Almighty who tailed the assembly line as crowds stood up to salute the magnificience and prodigy of the festival!!

The end of the procession witnessed the city crowds dispersing like wild rat on the roads everywhere....and not out place would be to mention that behavoir of the congragation of village and city suburb masses on the streets is an element which can typically connote a nation's carnival and so it is for a Golden Nation sparkling with the legacy of Maharajas and prodigy of an ultra rich heritage--India!

Hyderabad Reflections

2007-10-02T02:52:00.000-07:00

The flaming sun dipped its fatigued head into the cools of the clear waters and the silence of the semi-darkness of the purple evening was disturbed by chirp of birds and fleet of vehicle horns.Long arrays of shop lights started to glow alight as the city was rejoicing the end of Ganesh Habba with colours, drums and music ...and I was on my way to Hyderabad railway station to board the night train back to the hum-drum of my life in Bangalore.

As the auto raced to the station I listened to the beat of the drums and people rejoicing the celebration of Ganapathi's might I looked at the watch and saw that after a short struggle to reach on time I was almost nearing the station now.And then I realised that in the two day stay in the city on request of a friend of mine(Daisy)residing there I had loved the time I spent there!The previous evening where I sat with my freinds in the boat (in Hussain Sagar Lake)and chatted for long hours, admiring the curvature of the city road (overlooking the lake)sparkling alive with city lights under the dark blue sky...the sprinkle of unexpected occasional showers slanting into the boat to embrace our faces and then shying away in th whiffs of the chilly breeze....as the serenity of the towering Buddha Statue in the middle of the lake traquiled the evening....umm...I wanted to get back to the moment of eternal peace of standing on the edge of the boat and admiring the road without..!

They were carting the idol into the lake now and I was bidding Lord Ganesha and my friends a hearty farewell.I was leaving these moments in the city to enjoy Daisy's hospitality,I felt ..and smiled!Ganesh Chaturthee had always connoted to me the advent of a changing season of festivity, enthusiasm and new clothes...a time to visit the tailor for new frocks.... and watching cloth Pandals getting ready to welcome Ma Durga in a couple of weeks....to who can I tell what this feeling is but a Bengali perhaps(?)...white clouds parting in the sky...sigh!!...and shopping for new shoes...pheww!I miss Arun Uncle(who expired this year)who took me, my sister, brother,boudi(sister-in-law)and then when the kids came..they too and bought us all new shoes....I never wanted to grow up so much so I may have to buy my own shoes..God has been unkind:( to take him away from us...

As the misty dawn welcomed me back to the city after a deep slumber in the train,I rubbed my eyes and to get back to the warmth of my bed.On my bed lay someone....guess who???.....Soma!!!I was thrilled !!I wasnt missing Soma,My friend in Hyderabad anymore!!I named my Dollie girl with lovely curls over her baby temple Soma!So I may never miss her....

I thought I should click her snap and put it in my blog too...so I woke her up and took her snap!:))

The Chuk De Wave!!

2007-09-26T03:31:00.000-07:00

"Jeet Takat se Nahee,Neeyat se hotee hai!!"

.....Before the 20-20 series started perhaps no one would have ever imagined that India would be anywhere near victory.As an average cricket fan I never even bothered to watch the initial matches of the series.Cricket to me meant the arrgogance of the Aussies pushing Sharad Pawar off the stage so he may not come in the way between their team and the camera...the plight of India when they let us down during the World Cup....and all the misery and shame they invited to us when they came back.I remember my mail box was full of clone pictures of our team in professions like barbers, cobblers and road side tea-sellers.....And today...and ever after....!!The Dramatic Victory of Monday evening makes us all proud....Welcome Boys!!!!You deserve every bit of our adoration!!!Welcome team India!!

On my way back from office this Monday evening I noticed a Bangalore city I haven't witnessed in ages.The city streets were depeopled by the magic of the "Dramatic Men in Blue"our truely adorable and fresh Indian Cricket team.....The only place where crowds could be seen was near electronic good shops where clusters of people were watching the nail biting 20-20 match between India and Pakistan.When I moved my head up from my terminal my whole office bay was empty as the match had already started.I too went home to watch the match....and well....I couldn't beleive that it was team India performing!!What am awsome match....!And...the last catch crushing the morale and defence of the equally competent Pakistan team broke the nail biting and heart pumping silence of Indian streets.....with the rejoice in fire crackers, screams and hugs!!...And....who could miss the superstar Shah Rukh Khan on the feild...congratulating the adorable team with hugs and smiles!

Err...on reflection(customary to habit..:P)...Ever since our victory over the invincible Aussies,..and tracing back on the the Hockey Championship that India bagged most unexpectedly,I felt ShahRukh Khan and one of Bollywood's most inspirational movies in recent times,Chuk De Inida....India,in my opinion stands to be a truely emotional nation and the most emotional of their sentiments cater to their passion for cricket and movies.The coach of a new genre says something with conviction and the entire nation is pumped with the enthusiasm,patriotism and respect for girl power.

Lastly...a couplet in the movie that really holds good for every game of life and this game witnesses victory from it.Its strategy and team spirit that leads to victory rather than might....Make correct strategies,victory is at your feet!!

"Jeet Takat se Nahee,Neeyat se hotee hai!!"

Independence Day...

2007-08-14T04:02:00.000-07:00

Stuck in the traffic jam on my way to office was not an unusual experience...What made it different was the sight of the sellers of the Tricolour (tiranga)national flag at the signals...that reminded me that that patriotism is in the air again.,,oh yes...tomorrow is 15th August..the day our country got independence from the British empire.

My friend quickly shoved a five rupee coin in the flag seller's palm...snatched the flag before the auto started trodding in the sea of Bangalore traffic.....and I was observing her and my mind wandered all over the experiences of the Independence Day and its relevance to me at different point of time in my life...and I just stop to realise that I relate different things to this day at different times of my life...and before the day fades away I could capture it for myself and my readers to relive them all over again..:))

As a small kid aged 4 or 5, I remember being dressed in a school PT uniform, a small little white pleated skirt , shirt and white ribbons and tiny tennis keds even though it was a holiday...I was sent to the colony celebrations in the morning by my mother to sing the national anthem and see the flag hoist.And i remember I used to enviously look at other bigger girls' shoes...atractive nikes or adidas and feel like asking my parents to get me those for the next indepndence day rather than the dull tennis keds...i remember a girl had laces on her socks and I had plain ugly kneww length stockings and I had felt so sad.....I was looking all over the place at people's footwear when the anthem got over and would feel better when they would give us one free flag and two orange flavor toffees..the typical of indepndence day..then they used to have some sports...I guess that was usually on Republic Day...am not sure...I would lose the running race and come back home with a long face:((

Then as I grew older, may be 10 or something,I remember Arun uncle (who expired recently)who brought Jalebis for us...its customary all theoughout my growing years that uncle went to Chappan Bhog, the most pouplar sweet shop in my town and got Jalebis at 7 in the morning before we got up and my father went to the terrace and hoisted a silken tricolour which he still keeps in his cupboard all through the year folded and ironed neatly like his other clothes...Arun Kakul I miss you...

There was a phase where patriotism struk me like a mad wave in the influence of history books in 7th grade where I just wanted to get a good rank and did get them..I learnt the full independence story word by word and had so much to reciprocate in the exam that I wrote each word same there..hehe!I was in love with history....Gandhiji, Dandi March,Lord Cornwallis--dont know why i remember him so well:P(who looked like a monkey )in the picture printed in my book and then the serenity of Raja Ram mohan Roy....and the reinaneince and Sati...phew...this blog may never end if I start that...and that reemphaised the music lessons in my music institute Tagore Society...I remember wearing an oversized make shift blouse over a borrowed saree and singing.."Hindustan...Mera Pyara..Hindustan Desh hamara...."the whole hall singing....the power of our voice ringing in the huge hall .....and I felt evey word of the song...I love my country....I respect the martyrs ....

Then I cant miss the high school days when I was in the school band...when all the growing girls were enjoying their beatuy sleep there were a few of us like me who had to come at 6 30 in the morning with the kettle drum tied with a leather belt of my shoulder as the national anthem started and i would play.....ah!!!how i missed my Bagpiper Band Dress with laces and red cheks..that day...thats the only function we played the band in white uniform.

And of course...!!these days...Independence Day is about working for US clients as they dont have an off or staying at home because I am not eligible for a compensation off this time....and may be just a holiday to unwind.....So to make up I guess I will celebrate the independence day by doing some charity or helping my blind friends tomorrow lest I forget the aura of the strong patriot inside me...Happy Independence Day!Salute the martyrs in my history book ..and byond..forever!!

US GAAP Experiences!

2007-08-09T06:22:00.000-07:00

Very recently there was a training in my office on Us gaap(generally accepted accounting practises)spanning over three weeks every Monday....and the there are somethings about the training that I really liked and thought I will capure the impact it had on my mind before the freshness of the learnings get snowed under by other priorities at work.

Accounting:Accounts is one subject hybrid between Law and Math as discplines and the combination can be extremely refreshing to explore.I had left my accounts paper in a staggering 60% in my graduation days and getting back to those concepts of various accounts in a business trasactions was a real refresher.Example,Mandatory Redeemable Shares(where securities can be called back by the issuer on occurance of a certain event when the event is known but the timeliness is uncertain) as a concept in Indian accounting is something I never studied..creative off spring of a new kind of fund raising activity for me!

Infy Campus:Being a part of the infosys empire and not having the experience of being in the main Infosys campus in Electronic city is quite a misery!The huge edifice which proclaims the confidence of a visionary, the awsome variety of food,the recreational activities there...eveything about the company is awsome!In the company of a colleague who has been branded as a glutton I had a taste of awsome Italian and chinese food on these trips!What distortions it has done to my work out schedule will be cribbed about in detail in another post:))..For now big tears roll down my bigg bigg eyes when I see the side of my belly suddenly bulging out from nowhere,,,sobb!!!:P

Trainer:It is rare to see old people as employees in office campuses these days.To see an academician again was quite exciting.Academicians, in my opinion have their own way of interpreting things which may be in stark contrast with the perception of executors.Atul links the "liquidation of LIFO layers"(a method to use inventory to manufacture finished goods)..by striking an analogy to Liquidating layers of fat when we want to check our weight....such analogies can be struck only by someone who deeply understands the essence of the concept !

Infy Transport:This is the best thing perhaps in all i got from the training.Ever since our company stopped transport to our small office as a cost cutting action I have been wanting to clamber on an Infy bus...I feel royal when I see a local bus taking the same route and how unprivilaged people stuff themselves in the tottering vehicle under the clayey consturctions of Hosur Road...Its a sheer niusance when compared to the royal safe ride...and the landing into the huge free bus station inside the campus!I havent seen so much open space in Bangalore anywhere....I feel am landing from an Aircraft!....Leaving the arms of the infy bus...on my way back to my small office is a small sky blue "shuttle" which took an awsome new road I had never seen before....a newly constructed highway connecting the fag forested end of Bannerghatta Road and the Office city....What an awsome ride from the speed of the flyover where the laps of the wind hits my face....till we reach the forested end of the city road.....I dont feel like getting down from the lap of the little light blue bus with shades of dark blue making it look like a pretty angel....yess...like an angel it has a star on the side...its called a Star bus!!:)) All this gives me an appetite to take off into the woods into a fairy tale adventure and never return again....

SCRRREeeech!!!Now the bus has reached the crowded city again....am working out of regular 'kutti' offspring office of Infosys again...having healthy fat free chapatis and religiously sacrificing the sweet dish into my glutton colleagues plate.....!...and finishing this blog in the hope to go for the next level of training in September!

Gratitude....!

2007-06-20T03:04:00.000-07:00

"God cannot be everywhere so He made mothers to take care of us"...

said someone wise....

Umm I says....

"Mothers cant be forever so He made special people in our lives so you may not miss her affection"

Today, saving the reason for the latter of my blog, happens to be one of the happiest day of my life....its just a normal Bangalore day with a cloudy morning and a mid-week day with average work pressure....yet there is something so bright and sunny inside me...that am motivated to captulate the moment in the blog..so my readers and I may read it to rejunivate our spirits when the "low tide" begins to invade us....

In the past couple of years, after I lost my mummy to a prolonged illness in 2004,I have been dwelling in the feeling that I never did anything to deserve this....I need her affection, i need her lap....I need her pamper...and God has been terribly unkind to the droplets of futile tears soaked into my pillow on many-a-nights....

This morning, after an unusually enjoyable aerobics class I almost ran back home because the beats were still ringing in my head and my two married housewife friends who walk back with me...were exuding positivity on how the class helps them to have a circle of friends and aquaintances other than their husbands' friends....her personality, her individuality and her time..away from her relentless effort to make her unrewarded service to her holiday-less household...

My unattended cell phone showed "2 missed calls" from Ekambaram Aunty...an elderly aunt now residing in Mumbai in whose backyard and motherly affection I have spent many a after-school afternoon!!

"I was busy dancing,Aunty"...."Verrrry good...."she said in her south indian style...."just wanted to hear your voice...you came in my dreams last night"...."This is your life,aerobics, work.....marriage and your future may or may not turn out to be a happier proposition....find happiness in your own self...your life is your own...make it as happy as you can!"said my psuedo mother!!!

After around a year...I had called Aunty last week telling her how dull I had begun to feel...(and many other pent up frustration stories,I had been cursing God because I couldnt tell them to my mumma)..I poured out all on her!!!!....remembering that in all my life and all my sad moments...I have found solace in her....she knows all my adolescent heart breaks and crushes on events when I visited her in Chennai;more than what I conveyed to my bed ridden mother....and her feelings were so priceless to me......that I almost chocked tears in my throat when I kept the phone....

Behind the chirpy mood and a lovely dress I sported today....is gratitude to Aunty and all the ladies..umm...and some times boys , friends too.....for pampering me....for making me feel loved...my PG aunty's hot rotis after a terribly busy day at work and her lovely smile when she pats my back...i tease her grand daughter.."this is my amma..."and how she laughs.....climbing the Tirupathi hills in the sumo,on one side for her little grandaughter and the other shoulder I slept like a dependent child....:) Mookherjee Aunty,my new found music class coordinator(who lost her husband rcently)...acting mother for me on otherwise lonely sunday evenings with her vibrant smile and extremely charming gait....she has even paid my Guruji my fees as I forgot to get the money last week.....she trusts my smile ....and I trust hers!

..and of course..I cannot close this blog before I thank my pampering huge girl gang friends,Nitasha,Ashita,Nupur,Meenakshi,Geetika and all others...advicing me and loving me like a child.....cooking my favourite dishes and calling me over...from ironing my clothes to oiling my hair on a terrible head ache evening...copying my notes in the college...when i was too depressed to study when I lost my mummy.. and booking flight tickets for me on-the-spot with her money...and covering my fevered body with her blanket in cold winters....advicing me against the ways of men and suggesting me face packs to lighten my complexion......:)

Today is a day of gratittude....to all the people who play mumma for me whenever I have missed her.....

"Mothers cant be forever..so God made special people to carry us....when we lose strength to tread the path of life".

Artistic Decline....

2007-05-24T02:10:00.000-07:00

"Reality shows" have off late become the unique selling proposition of commercial TV channels off late.For those of you who havent watched what a reality show is,its a competitive stage for general public to exhibit your musical,dance and acting talent on a national forum....(well,if i may,thats the decent way of putting it..because what causes the excitement is the hooliganism memontary tears by losing participants,the outrageous outbursts of anger and other neagative emotions by friends and realtives of participants and of course..the most ridiculous of it all....judges being outrightly rude by hurling criticism to the performances in the most insulting of possible expressions....so on and so forth.)

In the mad rat race of pushing channel revenues upwards,here's the observation and comments of a humble art (proportionate mix of music(sangeet),dance(nritya) and acting(abhinay)..lover....

Art is hurt by publicity.Publicity,in the broader sense of the word......diluting the emotions of the art by personal emotions like competition, anger and insult...more so, by people who dont understand it even to a reasonable depth.

Hoards of masses participating in a competition named "Indian Idol"...a replication of the American show has seen unruly and the most out of tune voices screaming under the spot light with the ambition to become a play back singer....and then when the judges pronounced how bad they were.........emotions came down from their eyes to the sympathy of audiences...and then "Sa Re Ga Ma...."It was the wierdest of art exhibition when the average public sang...this time i wouldnt say,out of tune...but the level of the competition was too low to be called a national voice...and when the judges overreacted to thier failure..it was shocking!!!i was even more shocked that people with little knowledge about the number of distict vibrations between a Sa and a Re ...are talking about music in the boldest of ways...and NDTV and other news channels have nothing to cover but the sheer shameful face of public immaturity!!!

I would say,even a decade before when Star television had not invaded the hearts of the entertainment world, the advertisment and music industy was innocent and respectful.I was watching the previous episodes of Sa Re Ga Ma on a sleepy sunday afternoon last weekend..only to get back to the simplicity of the participants....the intense of comepetition, the Riyaaz of years together...bringing to audiences golden voices clad in simple clothes....compared to the make over given to simple kids in Kids Sa re ga ma make overed by glamour.....robbed of their innocence...pushing them out of their childhood out to the vagaries of glamour....To top it opiniated and judged by commercial eyes....This truely derogates the gravity of Art.It endangers the souls of the contributors of their souls and lives to music and art.Perhaps, the stage has reached where its no longer fun.Art is not admistrating healthy entertainment as it should,enertainemnt is killing Art, World's envy and India's pride.

{Media undsertand:Entertainment glamour and the revenue oriented media is misusing the innocence of Art.}

Incarnations of the Almighty on Earth!

2007-05-17T01:56:00.000-07:00

Am angry!!!Am touched....I mean...I simply dont understand.....its ridiculous...how "can" people do this.........obnoxious!!!X(I fail to express my anger on the numerous youngsters who leave their parents alone and live in a different city(to "enjoy" life with their wives and children).

A few days ago I got introduced to an aged bengali couple settled in Bangalore for many years,a retired white haired army doctor and his extremely radient and charming wife...."what a lovely young girl",said the old man,"my new girlfriend.."he said (with a smile) in a quivering voice as he dragged himself towards his arm chair with the help of his walking stick...and their faces glowed with the radeience of fulfillment, i felt...In the next few moments I discovered more.

A huge villa in the heart of the city proclaiming the prodigy of a life time,their only son lives abroad with his immediate family....and....grandpa has a cancer in his pancreas and was operated recently.Grandpa-grandma live all by themselves nothwidstanding the support system grandma has created around a childrens' pay school and a art-music class ....children and their parents love her and adore her...

The next time I got meet them was yesterday evening after office when I squeezed time after office hours before I made it to the PG....Grandpa expired of a heart attack last week!The beautiful dida was clad in white without Sindoor....my heart sankk:(....her son had come down for the cremation ceremny leaving his work,wife and boy to be with her she said before she broke into tears....I say....how ridiculous ....how can you leave your parents for years together in a huggee house, frequent them onn vacations and then do your mother,yess...the mother who gave her life to bring you up....sacrificed her all.....A huggee favour by coming for a few days to attend your father's cremation ceremony....!Just because office is calling you....is that the fate of modern parents????!!I mean doesnt she deserve her only son's attention even when she has lost her ONLY support in life??

This incident and more..I have heard in my own aquaintance of a widowed mother suffering from paralysis in a lonely one room house tucked in the corner of Kolkata city attended by a wicked maid who would perhaps forget to feed the old lady(who cannot speak for herself or compalin to anyone) for her afternoon nap ...her son earns in the richest of dollars in the US and talks about concepts like "mercy killing" when reminded of his mother....the mother who stayed away from her husband all her life to make him into an able doctor....staying with him from city to city and saving every pice she could..only for him!Thats the reward!

I REALLY fail to understand how people can do this??Dont they fear that the future may inflict the same upon them?Dont they feel gratitude for the lovely parents God has given them.Is office..money...wife and girlfriend..more important than reason that brought us to the mortal world??

In my own house I have seen the love, care and attention my sick mother got before she passed away from my brother and sister in law.And I promise to carry the values that I learned from my sister in law when I make a home of my own.Readers,if ever you feel you cannot give time to your parents because of WORK,remember you couldnt work if you were never been given birth to by your parents!They deserve our priority,they deserve our love....they have done nothing to deserve lonliness before their end meets them....Give them your time and love them before it is late!

Salute to the incarnations of Almighty on Earth!

Food For Thought!

2007-05-14T22:58:00.000-07:00

Off late I have realised that eating out doesnt excite me the way it used to..Chinese,continental and even the Bengali cuisines have started putting me off when I think of PG(paying guest)food.

This may sound particularly ridiculous to my counterparts staying in paying guests outside their home bereft of home food,but i am so addicted to PG food now, that I feel like running back to the PG kitchen even when am at home!Perhaps five years is a pretty long time not to get addicted to a particular kind of food in a city.

As the stereotypical aroma of a south indian kitchen lures me after a heavy sweaty work out to hot crispy dosas and coconut chutney...on cool Bangalore mornings...I feel heaven's come down to earth!And then on a lazy sunday morning when the sun is refusing to rise completely and the russling of the trees in the neighbourhood wakes me up,I find myself relishing the hot soft white idlis dipped in hot sambar....ummmm....and when it melts in my mouth I have appetite for strong tea which I myself adminsiter the making of .....breakfast cant be more beautiful than this.Can it?

On one of my vacations back home I suddenly found the house where I grew up having strange food habits.Fish????nah....I wanted hot sambar and rice and a cup of throat clearing Rasam and a beans-cocount vegetable and some curd(yes...not in a separate cup with sugar)..I wanted that white sour God'd gift to mankind....named "curd" right on my rice...mmmmmm....its so fulfilling!

Veggies have never felt so nice at home...I remember all the parental sermons hurled at me after-school hours at lunch time when I wasted the greens on my plate and stared at elders with the world's most boring face jsut to hear at the end of the lecture..."Leave the plate and wash your hand, dont need to eat any more.."thats then...and now???Steaming hot rice scrapped out from a biggg cooker kept on the gas stove is what I look forward to after work....If someone asks me..that time..."where does the horizon end"...I would say "in the rice cooker"!:)

Back from work when my back hits the fantastic bed percolating from me all the tiredness of the day,I can sometimes hear whispers of hushed criticisms hurled by the PG mates"Daal was not nice,sabji was tooo oily....."and so on....upon which I smile and turn aside shutting my eyes (and ears too!)to thank God for blessing me before the fatigue of the day pulls me the best slumber of mortal life.

{Situations and Experiences mould your personality more than family and culture }AND
{Count your blessings,you will fall in love with life}

Challenges of a "New Social System" may have answers in old books!

2007-05-03T03:42:00.000-07:00

Recently I had a school freind visiting me from Delhi.She was on an official tour to Bangalore till she informed me that she has been hearing some wierd sounds at the window of her hotel room where she was alone at night.Wasting no time, I convinced my paying guest owner to spare a cot for my friend and we would bear whatever expenses that we may have to incur.

Following this,I remembered another incidence that I heard somewhere.There is a 30 year old girl in Hyderabad whose father is looking for a prospective groom for her.She works in a reputed hotel and earns a good salary but the abnormality in her case is that she is the unwed mother of a one-year old baby and has been ditched by the father!Isnt it terrible to hear things like this??Doesnt this girl have the desire to marry...ask her..yes she has...despite her independence!

I have been playing agony aunt for a married friend who has been placed in a city other than her husband's office and feels that her marriage is breaking apart.....

Being aware of such incidences I am beginning to doubt the credibility of men being at par with women...I may be beaten up by a gang of feminists for saying this but even after life of single women working in various kinds of industries independently in big cities and managing themselves in poise, confidence,diginity and financial indendence,the buidlers of our social system no matter how boring it may sound to liberation freaks have put some sense when they chalked out rules for us.

In the hindu Vedas the life of an individual is broken into four parts and a human being has to perform what is meant to be done in that phase.Brahmacharya dedicated to education and prayer,Grihasta for family life, marriage and children, Vanaprastha for elderly advisory role in the family and finally sanyaas dedicated to prayer and recluse so the soul may leave the universe peacefully and attain Moksha(release from the painful cycle of birth-death-rebirth)For further details you could read http://mailerindia.com/hindu/veda/index.php?fourstages.

Only when men and women perform their repsctive duties in the correct time in their life can his or her life be happiest.Of course these are abosute rules and may not match the modern context. Yet such thoughts are anwers to challenges of single women and young couples even in the modern education age where the role of a woman has become more manly in the sense they go out and work in offices and men tend to help their female family members by taking interest in "womanly" tasks like cooking. But only till the role reversal is healthy and makes life more fun and respectful.

However, the boundaries and the balances to take over reverse roles, though ambiguous is worth questioning in our times (esepcially from the point of women safety-physically and emotionally).Women are allowed to work..Is the industry suitable for her?Is the office environment safe for her?Is keeping her marriage going more a priority for her than her career?Like wise is a man able to manage his priorities between home and family?(I would personally say a girl should proioritise her home)Such questions deserve the attention of men and women residing in society.

A Mysterious Staircase!!

2007-04-20T02:58:00.000-07:00

The semi darkness of post office hours reveals the shadow of a metallic staircase leaning eerily on the protuding wall next to my new PG room.Ever since I shifted to the terrace room I have been noticing this staircase beckoning me to climb up till the steepness of the staircase leading right to the ground floor scares me off to death.I was wondering why the stair case causes such a turmoil in somewhere inside me...i mean, even when I know it leads to the water reservoir....here's the probable reason...

The dazzle of the setting sun pushing its beam over a coconut tree emerging into the sky from nowhere reminds me of a similar evening way back in the summer of 1987 or 1988 when i was a tiny tot with fat hands and round legs in black buckle shoes and a tight frock with frills on my shoulder sleeves.Little Monami was back from KG class and escaped the eyes of tall elders in the house, perhaps to skip her evening milk and hid herself in the terrace.A stair case leaning against the wall there beckoned her to adventure..:-) she climbed it up.

I dont quite remember what the baby saw on top but I sure remember to disrupt the crawing of home ward bound crows under the reddish sky with howling tears when I looked down and saw that some one had walked away with the staircase!!!

I still remember the loud voice of my mother calling..'Mamon....Mamon....kothaye....Mamom ke dekehcheesh.."and a young maid in my house wearing a red saree with her typical voice was running up and down...she even came to the terrace and went back and i couldnt scream out from the top..she went back and I remained there.

I cannot recall to proximity for how long I stayed there but I found the known face of a carpenter with the ladder on his shoulder looking up at me and smiling with his terrible teeth blackened with khainee as I sat on top there swinging my baby legs from the edge and playing with my two colourful mango shaped pony tails and flaunting my dress pretending to be at as much ease as possible!:-)

The staircase in my PG still stands stuck to the wall.....no one can ever have the strength to take it away unless Atlas, Heculese or Hanumana come alive from my school books but I still dont want to undertake the adventure any more:-)

My New Room mate and the black world..

2007-03-20T23:30:00.000-07:00

All the appending apprehensions in my mortal mind almost came to reality when I welcomed my new room mate in my room.A middle aged lady with Mehendi brown hair in clad in a smiple cotton Salwar kameez with a thick black wrist watch speaking the time everytime she pinched it.Everything else seemed to be normal about her but her eyes.She is blind.

However in the course of few months that I have been staying with this aunty,those "appending apprehensions" have been dropping apart one by one...so much so...that I sometimes forget she is blind.She explained that she was here for a short voice-based training in an NGO located nearby.She would be with us till her husband had set their home in Bangalore and her training got over.She counted her steps to reach the bathroom door, she knew that the left tap was for cold water and the right for warm water...she knew that the basin was at the right corner and the upper two shelves of the cupboard was hers....if you still cant beleive that she is visually impaired, neither did I untill I was smaking her feel the location of the fan on the switch board and i told her. "this is the bathroom light..." she said.."I dont need it, thanks.."!..with the world's most touching smile widening on her lovely lips...

Sometime ago I had a chance to watch a contemperory peice of Indian cinema called Black where Rani Mukherjee had moved me with her performance so much to believe and thank God for making me a complete human being..the power to observe, the ability to watch the blue sky and the green grass and the fortitude to express myself..When Usha Aunty told me that she lost her visual ability at 24 and perused her career till 30 and married a normal man, I realized that strength is truely rewarded when you live it in reality rather than in the sympathies of fairy tales!

Its only her not-so-correct alignment of clothes and her speaking clock, the unintentional dumping of my soap case right inside the tub...that would have raged my head off when the sudden giggles of her semi blind friend who escorts her to her classroom rings in my mind..they bang into the gate and start giggling like little kids and stand so close to each other so they dont miss hearing each other.....their laughter is worth a million dollar...what a wonderful world she has created with childish laughters....cant the all-blessed, unchallenged create the same for them selves then...??

Standing under the shade of a bent bougenvillia tree sprouting its thin branches from over someone's garden wall, as I wait for my office cab to pick me every morning, I look back to think what a lovely room mate I have.Heart breaks and death of old people breaks my heart...but still the ray of hope enters my bright eyes for a better tomorrow...but the unrepairable eyes still find reasons to laugh like no one would care...A true pillar of strength and inspiration, a wonderful friend to talk to and a humorous human being...I wish I had a spare pair of eyes to give them to her...!

Online Friends...Orkut and ME!

2007-03-19T03:15:00.000-07:00

A shy introvert bespectacled two platted plump school girl glued to her academics books turns into an online buff!Well...Google and the software driven world has really taken us aback by hitting upon the world-around most pressing human need to communicate.. to be understood, to be heard and spoken to....

Well....amidst all the transformation of the world into a smaller place where old batch mates happen to meet after long years and forgotten relationships find a platform for rememberence, I am no exception to the rule.In an age where we spend 9-10 hours in front of the system, the system is the window to my social life.Let me share the experiences of my online life...

Speaking to a classmate married and settled in the US after a span of after 10 years...ask our parents if they have ever met their school mates like that!Well....amidst all the disadvantages of online interaction and the fear of meeting wrong people, I still ended meeting old school friends and making some new friends.

Two classmates chatting up to glory and I chance upon an interesting conversation by virtue of my decent written expressions and we become friends....eventually I meet them and know that these people have hearts of gold and have strong characters to admire.Then I meet an old chilhood friend(just married)...and a "percievably" useless guy sending me a friends invitation happens to be her husband's friend!Well....he is not all that indecent after all, he is just trying to meet new people, the forum doesnt matter...after all...does it??

Google talk and orkut have eventually become a part of life where relationships with old friends get stronger, new people are met(with caution of crooked minds who dont care for anything else but a date!)Relationships get moulded, relationships break...realtionships take you by surprise of changed people and unchanged friends....

Thanks orkut for making people more social than the computer age would have ever made it!

New Experiences....

2007-03-19T01:59:00.000-07:00

A fresh yellow daisy flushed wet with the evening drizzle and the tiny droplets dazzling in the bightness of the sun, the intoxications of the redness of the setting sun from the balcony of my room captured into the screen of my digicam and the fascination of percussion beats of a simple old hindi film melody from my laptop ... the crispy flappering of the papers in my text books(bringing studies back to your life is amazing) drives me into an eternal era of abnormal, never before and never after experienced bliss...

In the persuit of happiness my restless soul wasnt able to befriend myself and appreciate friends in months when the entanglements of unworthy relatiohships were eating away the worthy space....the turbulance of a torrent sea comes to rest finally....

Have been having tough times and bad days in my life after a prolonged personal crisis which had left my soul too shaken and stirred and no sooner had the pendulum lost pace that I lost a close uncle of mine last week.The uncle who sneeked into my study room every high school eveing, the one who announced the order of a chinese dinner every time Saurav Ganguly made a century(the world cup doesnt charm me anymore)and the uncle to whom I owe all my new shoes every Durga Puja since my childhood.He knows I can buy my own shoes now but my personal loss seemed unbearable till time and other realtionships have started healing my wounds.

In the dark advent of 2007,work, studies and friends have kept me going.Awry has been a pateint ear so much to believe that am rewarded for being a good girl after all(thats right Awry...if you are reading this..dont fly away:-)

My soul and peace of mind,just about getting there...!Way to go!This is exaclty what I have been in persuit of.

Anjana and my most memorable Puja

2006-09-27T10:37:00.000-07:00

The mild shivers of the October autumn renders a tantalising aroma into the wed mud ...then...soft shiny drizzles glittering on the bright green foliage of shrubs....giving releif from the tropical sun to my small urban town tucked in the eastern corner of the country decorated with rainforests and hills on the circumference of the plateau... Every year the autumn comes in the same manner and surrenders itself into the warm wraps of the forthcoming winter....the time is special....

The red and white cloth tent called Pandel decorated with creative alpanans; traditional designs; being built, the 4 beat enthusiastic rhythm and melody of the Dhaak ( traditional drum) and the mud idols of the Goddesses pronouncing the welcome of Ma Durga’s home-coming….. And our heart is filled with the energy to adorn Her with all the attention and adoration she deserves. Yes its the time to celebrate Ma's home coming, to celebrate her marriage to the Lord(shiva) , to pamper her at her maternal home for 5 days ...its a time for every woman to celebrate her womanhood and every human being to celebrate the triumph of truth over guilty...to rejunivate and rejoice..In the nostalgia of the 20 odd Durga Pujas I have spent, I recall one and only the special one....the 17th year of my life....the rains they say signifies Ma comes in a boat and brings a prosperous crop to the Bengali farmers and special gifts for special people...my gift ??I shall reveal....read on...

They carted the huge idol of Ma Durga into the Pandel and all the little boys in the Paada (neighborhood) ran behind the idol as the Dhaaki players rolled their sticks and danced till the idol found its place in the podium in the beginning of the Pandel inside. And all the married ladies starting dressing Maa cheering Her with “Oolloos”. She looked amazing. Her huge eyes signified power and confidence and a pride on her victory over the evil demon, Mahishasuara and her face looked as pretty as ever. Her hands adorned with all the weapons that Gods had granted her at the time of her war with the Asura proudly pronounced the triumph. I stared at Her stalwart form, her huge breasts and her angry stance with her foot over the Asura’s chest and the dead bull lying below. Her brothers and sisters looked sweet but Her power was invincible. I never realized that She denoted so much power to woman-kind, to man kind and to the world. I found her amazing. I stared in Her glory at her Sindoor and her Shakha-Pola that signified her marriage to the Lord. And that was a realization that despite being a wordly woman she had the power to conquer the wild, to terrorize the evil and triumph over inhumanism. It all seemed like an empowering exercise and I kept looking at the protimaa’s face and a strange kind of power emerged inside me.

As I took a fresh bath and walked into the podium with some fruits that Maa had asked me to offer for the Shoptomi bhog, I sat there pealing off the fruits at the protimaa’s feet, I noticed a mad woman entered the prayer-dom. She was howling and screeming for a long time. In the crowds of worshippers waiting to break their fast after the Shoptomi Anjali ( offer to God) nobody noticed her. But I kept looking at her from the corner of my eye. “ Amaye Rokkhha Koro Maa” she howled and wept shamelessly. (Please protect me). Some young boys tried to shoo her away thinking that she may scare the children or create havoc during the prayer so she climbed the podium and lay at Maa’s feet, flat and tired….amidst all the noise she pulled herself into a deep slumber.

My heart went out to the woman. She didn’t look like a beggar at all. She looked too neatly dressed for a beggar and her saree also looked cleaned and she had had a nice bath before the puja signified that she was under the influence of civilized culture. She wore a clean white blouse and a light cotton sarree…not one that you would wear on a Pujo day though. I noticed that she didn’t have the fruits and just took her place at the idol’s feet as if she felt that it was the only place she found solace.

The beating of the Dhaak and Maha- ashtamee signifies the special day of the Poojo. I wore an orange saree and was the synosure of attraction of everybody’s eye that day. But my little eyes were searching for that woman. I offered Pushpanjali and then headed for my share of fruits and there I saw that lady again, allowing herself getting pushed by other women as she walked away towards the idol empty handed. She sat by the idol and swung her body with the drum beats. She was forbidden to touch the things used in the poojo, dhunuchee( ash bowl), the fruit cutter and the Shinddor Daan—she looked at everything and then started weeping uncontrollably amidst the crowd……she said…..

“ Amaye Rokkha koro, Maa…..Amar jeebon……ta….”and she stared howling again till she feel down and started weeping. She fainted I felt. I was near the podium helping the ladies to distribute the fruits to the huge gang of beggars who had come from somewhere..I ran to her rescue I couldn’t take it anymore….I wrapped her in my arms as she collapsed on the floor and she broke into loud tears and a whole crowd gathered around us….she felt the warmth of my wrap for few long minutes and kept weeping relentlessly.

“Tomar kee hoyeche?”I enquired with the maximum concern I could. “ Tumi ke?”,”tomar naam kee??Tomaar Baadi kothai??(What has happened to you, Who are you and where is your house?)

She didn’t answer. She started weeping all over again. It was evident that she was under extreme depression and had been in that stage for an irrecoverably long time. And all I could make out is when she whispered her name;” Anjana”.

Shondhee Pujo was timed at midnight according to the stars they said. As I sat with my mother and my other friends in the colony looking at the articulation of the rolling dhakee sticks as the enthusiasm of the beats seemed to reach the pinnacle of the Kaharvaa Taal and started retarding to begin the next round of beats gradually and steadily; my mind kept thinking about the lady who had collapsed at the proteema’s feet. I looked at Durga Maa’s face and felt she is speaking to me. I don’t know why I felt that she is thanking me for being kind to the woman who wanted to come to her wrap. I felt her head was nodding in agreement as the vegetable was slaughtered in praise of Her Divine grace and power.

It was late at night; around one in the night when the poojo ended and the dhaakee beats paused to a haunting silence all of a sudden. And the lady had spent four days at the idol’s feet and had not eaten anything. So I woke her up and called her to have the Prasad of the Shondhee Poojo. She got up and hugged me and strangely said…..” Tumi ki…..tumi ki…..Maa Durga???”(Are you…Ma Durga?)I was shocked…..I fed her dinner and pushed off. But her voice kept ringing in my head…..” Tumi ki Maa Durga???” she must have had a terrible dream is all I could imagine.

The Nabami puja is special because the Dhoonoochee Poojo is done on that day. As the drums reach its epitome of enthusiasm the worshippers express their adoration by dancing with the Dhoonoochees-- coconut fibres are shoved into a mud cruicible. The atmosphere is prayerful and smokey. There is an amazing serenity in the fumes of the dhoonoochee as Maa’s dress glitters in the dhoonoochee smoke. It’s smell seemingly purifies the air all around killing insects that come in the season and provides the warmth in the chill air of the forthcoming winter. This time amidst the purity of the fumes I saw a heart getting purified.

I saw Anjana entering the scene in a different saree. She was looking better and a lot fresher than before. She looked better. Her eyes were swollen but she was the synosure of the crowd. Every one looked at her with sympathy and wondered what was wrong. She spotted me in the crowd and came up to me and hugged me---“ Kaal bodo din por…. tripti kore khelam( I had a good appetite for dinner yesterday and felt satisfied after a long time). Tumi to Maa Durga ( you are Maa Durga)……I was shocked again….I detached her from me instantly. I don’t know why that statement of hers scared me so much.

Children were dancing with the aaratee and the smokey atmosphere made the air chilly and nice. It was breezy outside and I sat alone looking at Durga Maa’s face and was feeling a strange kind of bliss within my self and my heart was pumping blood at the same pace of the drums. It was an amazing moment for me. Anjana came and sat beside me. She smiled politely and said…..”Kaal Maa chole jaabe, toomeeo chole jabe….(tomorrow Durga Maa will go away and you will also go away…..)I told her I stayed in the red house behind the Pandel and she could drop by if she wanted.

She spoke in Bengali. She was some 23 years old. Reared up under the evil parenthood of her father and step-mother; she thought it her world’s problems ended when she left the riches of her house and moved to the simple household of her loving husband in a nearby town. But destiny has played a rude trick with her. No sooner had she started believing that life could be worth living as so her husband taught her, than he fell victim to a fatal attack of small pox and expired. Her parents-in-law had complained to the police that she is mentally unsound and needs to be admitted in an asylum so they may get her property and rich jewels that her father had gifted her. They kept her in a mental asylum for a good three months and she had run away from that asylum because she discovered she was pregnant. She came to our town from the Howrah Station a week back planning to work in houses as an errant-girl for urban housewives for a living and the moment they discovered she is pregnant they thought she was a ill chahractered woman! Somebody had raped her in the asylum!she was so depressed and totally out of mind. And she got her baby aborted and feels like an object used up and thrown into the drains of destiny.

I thought in my mind. Could anything be worse than this? We feel upset over little things in life not knowing how Durga Maa manifests her potentials into a human being giving them the power to bear colossal and irrecoverable losses and yet breathe in the same air and under the same heaven where people don’t see any displeasure. Should we crib?

Dashami arrived.Married ladies were playing with Sindoor. They were smearing fluorescent red sindoor all over their hair and faces. Students were collecting orange “genda” flowers to have Maa Durga bless their books and studies. It was an amazing scene. And Anajana and I were praying with folded hands as the last beats of the dhakee loaded the Goddess and started carting it towards the river. As the idol drowned her head back to her Shoshoor Baadi, Anjana smiled and said—“Ma came in the boat and brought this gift for me—am a widow other wise I would smear you with sindoor all over”---she said and laughed wildly.

That was the last time I saw her. She didn’t come for the evening get together or to exchange bijoya greetings. I kept waiting for her for a long time but she didn’t come. They started rolling up the red-white tent pandaal and the dhaakees were collecting their fees from the neighborhood houses. They played and it felt for a moment that poojo has started all over again….in fact I wanted to see Anjana again deep inside my heart. She didn’t come again.

Ever since that afternoon smeared with the fluorescence of red Sindoor and celebration of womanhood, I never saw Anjana again but I knew that Maa had left a special gift with me this year. I celebrated my wholesomeness, my human being, my womanhood and my family. I celebrated my friends and my culture; I celebrated the little things I never did before. The shining sun, the glittering leaves the chirping of the birds and the power of my expression. I had found a reason to celebrate forever.

Maa Durga, thank you for sharing your divine strength with Anjana. She recovered from the depth of depression. God give her the strength to reconstruct her life into a happier one and let her take her miseries in her stride. Thank you for making me your messenger for feeding her whole grains after days of hunger and thirst. Thank you for choosing me to do this noble task…and thankyou…….for making me realize that I am unique and special in my own little way just like your chosen one; Anjana whom you have endowed the courage to bear such colossal pain….let the lamp shine, let the power of the mind rise above human trivialities, take me from darkness…..into the light….into the light….!

What is Happiness and How to get it...??

2006-08-12T11:57:00.000-07:00

Once someone asked me what I want most in my life....I had said without thinking..."I want to be happy.."So it is for most people...so I have devised a plan to sustain happiness which I can share...Unfortunately(because it makes my task complex:) happiness is not the same for all people,like many other adjectives:beautiful is different for different people,what is right and what is wrong is totally varied from what person A would tell you and what person B would.Lets talk about happiness for now...

Well...happiness is a state of mind.If you think achieving goal X is going to make you the happiest person in the whole world,let me warn you that you are in an illusion.This is because when you accomplish that goal you set another goal Y which defines your happiness...and its not your fault...human beings are made that way....in the first class of economics in school I recollect a characteristic of want....wants are limtless.....and perhaps in the micro level,happiness becomes difficult to acheive but one thing is for sure....wants being limitless in their nature when it pertains to mankind allowed him to reach the degree of civilization,the modern era of speed,connectivity and technology....it needed the passion or guts to idntify the wants which kept multiplying overtime and resulted in this...so wants are not a negative emotion in the absolute sense...but again if looked at from the micro level,on the individual's side,man can never e a happy soul if his needs and wants keep multiplying.

So to remain happy,relax and cherish what mankind has offered,look at the foliage of leaves taking a shower in the autumn rainoutside your window,read a romantic novel,play carrom board or any game with school kids,reward yourself by talking to someone you love to talk to,pamper yourself with a new dress or hair style,make someone laugh his guts out with your silly jokes...you deserve it.....Share your mind with someone,do what your heart says and enjoy that.....Thats happiness!!!

Well...am not saying dont have goals in life...have them and keep driving the car of life towards success of Goal X,Y,Z,A....etc....and the world will be grateful to you...but dont confuse them with happiness...be happy when you acheive them,be happy when you dont...success has very little correlation with happiness....happiness is the state of your mind...!!

Another aspect:The Buddha says :"Desire is the cause of all suffering...So discard desire"...hmmm....lot of bitterness and pain reflects from that statement,isnt it??Well....I say,if to escape suffering you stop having desires,wont you perish the very you being human by not exploiting the resources that nature has endowed upon you...??relationships,professional success.....thats what are momentary happinesses that individuals want to prolong and is unable to sustain.That is happiness....Going by this kind of spiritualism,in persuit of happiness you may end up leaving what makes you happiest...?????how strange....

Errrrr...I will say,happiness and sadness are two sides of the same coin.If you buy happiness you buy sadness as well.So dont be scared to possess happiness...just buy the sadness as a free gift...because...if you dont see sadness you will not understand what happiness is all about.....if motherly care or a friendly talk makes you happy,treasure the moments and cherish them...enjoy them...thats happiness....and the day you fight with your mother,take it as a bad day and replace the incident with the happy experiences you had by turning the face of the coin..!!simple idea!!!you will see how happy you are that you get to experience happiness....thus you can remain happy during happy as well as sad moments....likewise any kind of challenge you have in life is related to happiness....its a learnig experience because happiness lies on the other side of it......HAPPY "TURNING THE COIN" to all my readers!!!!!

Save Bangalore!!!Its drowning!!!

2006-07-26T09:57:00.000-07:00

From the window of the train moving from Chennai to Bangalore,finishing the last 6 hours of my 48 hour train journey from home... on a bright windy morning,the breeze becoming cooler as we move towards the Garden City of India...a dark girl selling flowers from a broken basket wearing a bright pink skirt...."akka...."and then a horde of breakfast sellers with packed idlies soiled in spicy chuttney....my first journey to the city in 2000....and many journeys ever since,the city where I spent the most vital of my growing years and fell in love with.

Chilly gusts of breeze playing havok with my careless tassles as the three wheeler zoomed from one end of the road to the other,long evening walks with friends,swinging our arms in the air and the innocent laughter ringing into the clear blue skies till suddenly the sunshine shys away clouding up into shivery drizzles and moistening the green foliages all along the narrow city roads.

I remember the cozy bed of a Coorgie family where I stayed as a paying guest.Warm coffee and innocent welcoming smiles were more than enough to compensate the language and culture barrier.Smile is the universal language of humankind that surpasses all cultures so I communicated my gratitutde with the warmest of smiles.I remember meeting alot of south indians then,residents of Bangalore and districts of Karnataka,Kerelites and Tamilians...I felt most of them were warm and helpful.innocent yet natural.Intelligent and cuulturally alert.From this angle I could relate the Bengali mindset to that of the poeple in this part of the country.
This and many more memories wrap me into a warm nostalgia when I think of the city which turned an 18 year old kid into a 22 year old girl with a personality that the world can identify with...

As I now move towards office in a cab blasting the radio just to avoid the noise of the traffic outside,outside my mind,the reality shows a different Bangalore!!Auto drivers cheating the shit out of outsiders.More north Indians and hindi speaking population inducing their made up attitudes and imposing the money minded culture that in my opinion is the average mindset of the north,pollutes the innocence of the city.The same roads which transported me in ten to fifteen minutes takes hours to reach!The huge array of cars,vehicles,flyovers under construction,traffic police losing their patience,rapes and murders being as common as in the north,the city can no longer be proud to be called safe....Customer service is the last word in the lexicon for shopkeepers and eating hangouts in the city...with the abundance of customers,a waiter is likely to shove a bill under your face whether you finish your meal or not...the city has had to pay a big price to become a tech city providing job to the biggest pot of talented job hunters and the young generation.Soaring inflationary trends due to the development of the IT industry has transformed the Garden city into a traffic city!

Its evident that the city has not been able to keep pace with the accelerating infrastructure needs and population growing in leaps and bounds despite the best efforts of the government.its time the government did something to protect the indegenous culture and soveriegnity of the people here by passing laws like incentives in terms of tax benefits to IT companies moving out of Bangalore,better utilization of resources for infrastucture development.Traffic tariffs on possesing more than one vehicle in the family....restriction on migration to the city..something...anything...admisntrative measures for protection of working women and english speaking police for outsiders to have more access to law in case public transport and auto drivers cheat them....something ought to be done....i think its hightime the city deserves attention and care for all it has done for the development of the country...

How to make friends without getting hurt...??

2006-07-06T08:52:00.000-07:00

Off late this question has been troubling me quite a bit ...till i figured out why God made freinds....whats this friendship?whats all the hungama about making friends...buliding friendhips....its a damn confusing concept...

more so for me, a person reared in an environment where friends made more of a family than an own blood realtions,the concept of friendship which permeated into myself was kind of a wrong one is what i now feel...well...what is right then....

Well...friends should be taken in a wider realm of relatonships is what i feel.if you happen be the centric to the concentric rings pitted with relationships then friends come bloom like flowers in the concentric rings...depending on the distance of the relationship,we can place the flower... and you start liking the fragrance of the flower that blooms the most.then these flowers hop from one ring to the other coming nearer and nearer to you.the more lenient you are with these flowers the more you fall in love with them...sometimes especially in the teenage years,people tend to bring friendship in the closest realm or concentric ring on which flowers of relationship bloom...but this is a serious error...this causes hurt to many...the inner most realm and perhaps the second one is for family and special persons..not for friends....

however in maintaining the entry of exit of friends into the inner realms of relationships as these keep hopping in inside you,the challenge is to maintain the flowers from entering the inner most terrtory meant for permamnent relationships.friendship is a relaitvely dynamic relationships.ther position keep changing inward and outward..clser and further from you with time...and then suddenly they may dry off...you might realise that the flower that u felt closest to you is the dry one with no aroma at all...then you feel cheated and betrayed...however the fault is yours if you feel so,friends have their own lives and own individuality,you cant merge it with your own...friends are flowers that have to be enjoyed and taken care of,nurtured and may nurture you back,but will never remain in the same level of concentric ring around you or remain as bright as they seem....thats what relationships are about....meeting and parting is the truth of life....if a relationship exits from ur life,the place remainf empty forever...some flower may bloom near to the place where the flower had been...its your effort to have a new flower replace the old exactly...same applies to friends too..

people who say they have few friends and they are close to them are in an illusion...BEWARE..the flowers will dry up very soon.make new friends and keep replacing your flower pot with fresh ones,if not in the exact place..somewhere near it as near as possible... as when the old flowers will move up and down u will never know....fresh flowers will give you fragrance,a new lease in life,a new perspective and pleasant surprises...but let not the flowers,new or old, enter the territory of the family or make u feel they are permanently there in that realm...thats illusory....all the best with making friends!!ENJOY!!!

Crushed!!!!--for the first time!!!!!

2006-06-03T12:59:00.000-07:00

Wednesdays sharp 7.25 p.m…..I still get that sudden gush of adrenalin right from the middle of my stomach till my heart when I hear this time….there was a time when the 17th year of my life had just closed on me that the adrenalin inside me kept bursting into the veins of my heart pumping it in and out right from 6.30 in the evenings on Wednesdays till it heightened at 7.25 and then started to fluctuate up and down till it finally settled down….In case you are wondering what caused all this excitement in a plump bespectacled two plaited school girl’s heart, the answer would be everyone’s guess. However to get into slighter details that makes my story unique you must read on.

Wednesday evenings was the designated time for my riyaaz of classical music at home. For accompanying me on the Tabla, Partho dada arrived. A short man aged around 30 odd with a flat face and a Chinese nose and a thin pair of lips beautified by a little mole on top of his upper lip. The flat face was surrounded on the upper part of the circumference by a thin layer of middle parted hair...His two ears supported heavy framed spectacles….clad in a simple shirt and cotton pant….in short everyone could recognize him as a descendent of my very proud community, Bengalis. He arrived on a fat green scooter and a similar smooth colored helmet and black sandals he took off as soon as he entered the house and detached his helmet from his pleasant face and handed the helmet to me to hang it in some remember able place for him to pick it up homeward bound. And as he revealed the pleasant face off the heavy helmet, my heart thumped up and down as if it would pop out and fall on the floor any minute and then he would smile so pleasantly as if he was picking it up and putting it into his chest pocket……auch!!!!!i had been crushed with his charm!!!!!

Partho dada was not what all women would call lovable or handsome…but there was something about him that touched me. My interaction with him started when I was very small but when adolescent hit me I started to believe that he was the kind of man I would want to be with the rest of my life. Till date I think he is the best teacher who ever taught me. The concept of taal and the calculations were so perfect in his brain that I still remember them being years out of touch with the theories of music. The way he explained why we have so many ragas and what the old school of thought differs from the new and what nayeeka bhed(different aspects of a women’s emotion) and how the strings of the tanpura are a mix of all the notes of most ragas and the aura it adds to the environment….his concepts still fall in place in my floating mind if I apply my mind towards it…I think that’s where the success of a teacher lies….ingraining concepts so deep in a naïve brain that the receiver never forgets them….he was a successful teachers….

My appreciation for him grew with my advancing adolescent years on instance when I visited his home which was a small rented portion of a tata steel quarter roofed by an asbestos sheet which announced the arrival of the first rain drops after the tropical Jamshedpur summer. That simple little house had a strange kind of warmth in it….a small steel plate with 1 marie biscuit and a coconut laddoo and a steel water glass would be brought by Partho dada’s old mother along with her lovely little smile….I cannot forget the positive aroma of wed mud that came with the chilly gusts of the wind from the thick metal door as I sat nibbling at the thin flat biscuit. A neat little bed and a table and a small showcase with few plastic dolls is all the living room had….of course….apart from the lovely portrait of Guruji in Varanasi, which partho dada had painted almost to reality. Another of his paintings that I starkly remember is a sketch of Robi Thakur(Rabindra nath Tagore) adjacent to a post card with the letter he wrote motivating a freedom fighter….i experienced a strange kid of width in that work….perhaps the creator’s respect for the nation builders, that’s the volume of the snap which would possibly go unnoticed from an averge onlooker’s eyes….but my repetitive viewing suggested the depth of a conceptual mind….

Another thing that made my man more perfect was the way he refused to drink tea and condiments that my mother sent from the kitchen in the course of the riyaaz…after the close of the class he would nibble at the biscuit and say he quit drinking tea and have it sent back till my mother would replace it with a fresh cup of milk!!!!and then there was an angle of philosophy there….the answer to the “satvik” way of life to release the soul after the body gets abandoned into ultimate salvation or Moksha…the release from the circle of life and death…..so let not the soul get impurified with the desire for worldly sweetmeats and the recurring habit of caffeine in the tea to drive his spirit!!!!!if it sounds hi fundaa to you…that’s the way he thought!!! Service bereft of desire over and above what is required to sustain a normal life…

One incident that remains in my heart even now is the time when I failed an exam even though I was a bright student in school. The shock was too much for me to bear. So I stopped singing and stared at the harmonium from beneath my specs as though I would cry any minute…..he said,” you don’t have to sing today…keep your book away….” And he started to speak….and ever since that day between the Tabla and the harmonium I spent so much time talking to him about my school days, my marks, my teachers and my sports events…he gave it all a patient hearing. He counseled me on art and design and the implication of abstract art and the interpretation of different kinds of mind….it all seemed to be true and precise.

I prized my relationship with him to the extent that I thought that he might just be the man I want to get married too!!it was strange when I started dreaming that he is my mr. right!!love grew more the day he even drew my cartoon…he looked at me and made my long plait and really bulky cheeks and an open mouth in front of the harmonium….it was the sweetest thing I ever received in my life….it was the longest he had looked at me in return of all the lovely stares I had given him!!!!!i slipped it right into my wallet…

Years rolled by before on one of my infrequent visits to home Partho dada dropped in with his wedding card. Love of course had diminished by then with the sudden whiff of a new species from Mars gushing into my Venus-dominated life after my all girls’ 12 year convent education….but somehow that cartoon he drew for me still remains in my wallet….and my favourite teacher and my first crush remains in the wallet of my memories forever….

A “Monami”-acal perspective of the education system in India

2006-06-02T09:31:00.000-07:00

With the recent large hue and cry about the anti reservation campaign and the agitated mass of students standing for the right to merit seats, the issue of education has been constantly playing at the back of my mind on and off. My view points are definitely in favour of the student community because the governmental imposition of quotas for whom they call as the backward classes are not indeed the people who need it. I mean, even if the policy sounds fair for a socio culturally fragmented nation like India such initiatives are open ended enough for unintended beneficiaries to pull out the advantage stearing the law to their favour by virtue of power and money and the needy still remains to be in a soup. So the reservation policy is likely to have an adverse effect by further widening the gap between intended and unintended beneficiaries. Not only that, such a law is likely to open more gateways for public to create further hassles and hence render the intention of the policy exponentially negative of what has been actually intended.

However the issue I wanted to address to my readers is quite different from the above mentioned issue. Rather if I correlate the two I might want to say that the point of concern that I have is more basic to the challenge of education in the country rather than the media emphasis on the reservation issue. The attention of the media would be rather brought to what I have to say through my experiences in the education system in India.

Having studied in a missionary school headed by the “sisters of the apostolic carmel” fame and then moved on to an institution run by a group of holy fathers from far of southern India, my mental set up says education is charity. Imparting education is holy, charitable and spiritual…it is a methodology to transform people into “holisitic” human beings with a value system that he can fall back on in case he feels troubled or confused in making decisions. In essence, this is what education is all about. However the advent of private players in the field of education makes the education system very different from this. Private organizations are business units concerned about profit making. The aim of a missionary is to nurture human talent. Thus it is the very aim of the education system which makes the model of imparting education starkly different from each other.

Some points of differences that I found is, profit making is so much on the agenda that private education players generally tend to treat students like revenue centers. In stark contrast is the missionary school of thought that treats students like investment or cost centres. Such kind of attitude decelerates the quality of education imparted to the students. The system is encrypting imparting a selfish motive of profit because the people who man the organization are all profit driven in their mindset. Thus the aim of education which is to transform an individual into a holistic individual goes down the drain giving way to bureaucracy and red tapism.

Actually the wave of commercialization in every aspect of life is the root cause of the transformation in the education system. Such issues deserve media attention too. This is because education seasons the human mind. If private players keep coming into the “industry” of education then the “products” of such an industry will be rendered “low in quality”. This in turn will effect the society as people are the main ingredients of any socio-cultural set up. Thus education system and its products are the key parameters that build and influence the way people think, behave and act individually as well as in a group. Going by the implications that an education system has on the socio cultural set up, these issues deserve a lot of media exposure for the minimization of propagation of education as an industry churning out substandard products polluting the purity and wholesomeness of the society which we are a part of. My tribute and respect to my school and my missionary sisters who imparted me the best of education inducing the ability to create a well defined value system and also streamline my thoughts and expressions for getting across to my readers!

Balance Theory And Models-An Answer to many questions-A figment of My Mind

2006-04-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

I have never studied the philosphy of spirtualism and religion in the profound writings of acclaimed gurus in that great a depth to appreciate their views.Yet Spiritualism deveoped in itself a balancing model in my mind answering various questions whci everyone may have at various point of time in our life.So I find it useful to share it with my readers.

Human life is a balance strata.The higher strata belongs to Gods and Gurus.The attempts of sages to enter into phases of meditation is actually an attempt for normal human beings to rise above the strata of human beings towards the Dev-strata.Thus The Buddha could confidently say "Desire is the cause of all suffering so we shouldnt have desire".In the strata of humanity,this rule is impossible to apply.Desire drives human life.Desire for love initiates attraction between man and woman and evolves into the next generation of human life.How would human life sustain without desire?Again if desire turns into greed then the emotion goes into a negative falling below the human strata to the rock bottom and lowest form of life-Danavas and Rakhasas...the Demons.Like wise every emotion has three steps in which it can mainfest itself-demon form,human form and God form.So when a preacher precahes to you-"Never expect anything from anyone" when you are feeling low or the condition has thus occured that you took the liberty to exercise your expectations to the maximum level,ie,in the demon form,the preacher doesnt expect you to exercise his advice in absolute terms and become expectation free.Totally expectation free is only conditioned in the Dev strata.So the attempt of the preacher is to make you rise from the temperory fall into the demon strata to the human strata.So the preacher's advice is always a relative one rather than an absolute one.

Another dimension of this model is the force of gravity pulls everything downwards more easily than it helps to rise up.Analogously, it is very easy for human beings to exercise various emotions in human strata and easily have a tendency to exercise them or rather over exercise them in the demon strata that is below.what is difficult is the exercise of such emotions in the dev form.that is defined as "eternal bliss".

A third dimension to substantiate the model is facial experessions and form and features of human beings.When a person undergoes predominately neagtive emotions like hatred,anger and the like his expression changes and become like animals and demons.and when you are loving or understanding your expressions are soft and apealing like what we think God to be.It is control that differentiates demon,can also be called animal strata,and the human and dev strata.A friend of mine, Rohan contemplated once why men rape women,the psyche to injure...the answer is here:When a man loses control over his emotions he is no more than an animal.He does a hedonisitic act and if you see an expression of a rapist,he is no better than a powerful demon or lion.his logical mind has subsumed to animal instict in him,he has fallen to the rock bottom level at that time.conselling and thinking,logicla thought and prayer can help this man to regain his human psyche.

Likewise is what happens in the case of human interactions.If you are overtly lovable,its human tendency that poeple think you are above the human strata and take advantage of you.this may not be acceptable to you as you are still in the human strata and you may feel hurt because you couldnt keep up to te expectations that others or you may have about yourself.On the contrary being overtly conservative never helps.people think you belong to the demon strata interpreted by your non-smiling,grim and serious expressions and no one appraoches you.Hence you are caught in a mesh as man is a social being and the requirement not being filfilled causes heart ache.Thus balance of both in the correct proportion is the msot important way of dealing with intra personal relationships.

The theory of balance can be extended to inter personal relationships also.but care should be taken that individuals are heterogeneous in reactions by virtue of their upbringing,culture and motivational levels.Hence if a relationship is not working out then differences should be assorted with balance.both the extremeties are given up and a consensus is formed where both parties have no loss and are realtively satisfied as compared to the disappointment of having to accept the opposte party's viewpoints.And also,due to the heterogenity and dynamics of human beings expereriences,their thoughts and ways also changes.Hence disputes may become a consistent way of life in healthy relationships and the initiation of solving them should be the onus of both parties and not one side heavy.May be at one instance if party A took intitiative,party B remembers that the next time a dispute occurs its his chance to intitiate the resolution.In this way healthy relaitonships can be maintained.A small figment of the same thought is the providence of space between individuals.Staying too distant and isolated is life dev strata and sticking to each other all the time is like demon strata.thus healthy relationships can be maintained if priciple of space cum proximity is mentioned in the needed proportion.In circumstances when this doesnt help,then LET GO rule must apply.

Human life is like a dart board where family and parents and later children form the inner most rim if you are the pivot of the dart.When relationships bloom then the perpendicular line between the pivot(you) and the relative or friend no matter is whiever circle becomes illuminated and important.And in this light the rest of the relationship lines may not be clearly visible.thus this has to be take care of.once the let go phase comes the illumination dies out like a fuljhari on diwali.so the best way is to concentrate on the illuminations of other centres in the dart board,ie,othe relationships till that gets repaired or may never be.Its death that empties the space and you need a person fromsoemwhere preferably not exisiting in the periphery of the existing dart board to fill the space.

Relationship with life partner is unique from the dart boaord points defining relationships.it is indeed a venn diagram overlapping circle on the pivotal cirlce.thus we share a part of out lives with that person.the better half.the balance model applies again.in this also,strictly 50%space should be utilised by each other otherwise the better half's life model can become upset due to one particular circle and cause strain and stress.

Thus the balance theory can be applied to find any answer that you want out of life.Like demand supply markets balance into an equilirium price to attain balance,when human beings develop into such a huge race and non vegetarian eating population increases,it disturbs the balance of ratio of human:animal.Nature takes its own steps like the disasters of the tsunami to eradicate human race from the face of the earth and maintain the ecological balance.

Through the tunnel of Emotions-My Music-My Mentor-My friend!

2006-04-09T05:17:00.000-07:00

The vibrating strings of the Tanpura proclaims a grave note and slowly encompasses all the seven notes into its realm finishing the entire circle of the universal "Om" into a soulful silence.Thats the power of music.Travelling the world over in one breathe!Making you feel emotions that life may not give you a chance to feel in reality.Its a strange power!

I cannot recall the day to exactness when my mother had put my tiny hands into my music teacher's hands but I do remember as a young girl in a yellow flowery dress and two mango ponytails dangling on either side of my tiny head on big yellow flowers I often sat with folded legs and tiny round hands on my fat little chin,watching a music class in action.I saw beautiful girls palying the tanpura and closing their eyes as the beats of the tabla picked up the tempo,their beautiful eyes felt the rhythm and then they started the alaap.Till the taans took a rhythmic pace and the whole atmosphere in the room was charmed with smiles and appreciations.All I knew was I needed to smile too.

The pace of the journey ever since has been too fast to recollect the exact moments when I started getting the hang of the whole stuff...when I look back I see the passion of tones rising and falling with my heart beats,the tabla progresses and my heart beats at the same pace provoking me to share my emotions and feel them from somewhere between my stomach and right up from my voice.And as I close my eyes and feel the emotions I almost always have tears in my eyes...a strange kind of pacification...I have felt..

Hinduism talks about the Ras-various kinds of emotions one can feel in a lifetime.In the bent of the flute I have felt fear to lose my dear ones,in the rhythm of the tabla I have felt the enthusiasm of festival and socialising...in the crispness of guitar strings I felt love and in the pull of the violin my heart has felt like an insecure baby pulled into the wraps of my mother and in the purcussion of the mridanga i have felt the danger and anger of a punsihing power....its strange...but I have felt them right this way....

Closing my eyes to the wonderous of the thumree..."Mohe bharan naa det gagariya",I really feel my friends are teasing me from filling water from a well because my lover is waching me...and "horee khelat shree mohan raadhe"...I guess I am playing with my friends too....Taking "Apne Raam" into the depth of my voice I know,a huge God has taken me into His wraps and I can be protected from the harshness of the world....

"Kahoo ki rasili akhiya mann bhayee,ya vidh sunder bahu kalai" made me feel myself into the wraps of a princely warrior famous for his talent at war right into the chill of a dark blue night,passionately making love to me and then when the beats come back to the circle in the interval...I feel the shyness and say "mukh mod mod muskaat jaat"....

If ghazals proclaim the persian poetry of a man who drinks to forget his foregone and now married lover,I know what he is talking about as I feel him remembering "chupke chupke raat din aasoo bahana" and the "dupatte ka kona" right into my lap!

In wierd moments when my mind troubles me with the exactness of whether things in this world are running as per the values and models I have in mind,an answer comes up in the beauty of music swaying right into my craving ears and cools my heart into a soulfully peaceful slumber....because I need it!

Its strange....I have never been drunk and never made love.I have never been a sports girl and enjoyed outdoor games with my friends.Destiny never gave me time to reach the ceiling of spiritualism like saints,I want to be a wordly being,I am convinced.But my friend has made me feel all these emotions and dramatized them into my heart so much that i can tell you all about it!isnt it a strange power??

Music is one friend that never deserts me....through the ups and downs its always been there to dry up my tears and be by my side...my mentor,the answer to questions of a turbulant mind,the solitude of a loner,the peace maker,the companion in the journey to the heights of emotion and prayer....thankyou mummy...if you are listening...you put my tiny hands into the right friend's hands...

Aramita And Me

2006-04-06T11:50:00.000-07:00

Between the intermittent spaces of my memory lane lie some pitch dark nights and purple dawns which had witnessed me piercing my head into the depth of my pillow to weep loudly and endlessly.It was a time in my life when all my college gang had split up into special twosomes all of a sudden and rendered a sweet sisterly friend a lonely and confused heart.A rigid value system disallowed me to akin my paying guest inmates at saturday night dance clubs in the arms and embraces of temperory boyfriends,rings of heavenly fag and dancing alcohol, yet my heart craved for a someone special to wrap me in my arms for a little while....no one came....a single friend I had accompanied me for coffee after college was struck with the wierd idea of proposing me all of a sudden...i dont know why...unfortunately i have always been level headed in taking decisions even though I was in the depth of depression.In no way was he close to being my special man.And to say yes to him was to use him to pacify my lonliness...and even being his friend would never stop him from having feelings for me....i lost the hand of the last good friend i made....my feelings encapsulated in Jagjit Singh's soulful expressions, "Ek Lute Ghar Pe Diya Karta Hai Dastak Koi..."

This whole incident had rendered a protective sheild around me all of a sudden seiving the entry of friends,rather in the realm of relationships I found myself to be the biggest failure and convinced myself I could do without them(but at the cost of burying my face into my pillow and weeping to madness:))I abstained from making friends for a long time...

Destiny brought me to persue my MBA in Delhi.I had arrived a day earlier than my batchmates.My memories fail me to the exactness of the day when an innocent smile with a towel over her long thick curly locks jumped into my room with a box of Lonavala Amla offering me to taste and talking endlessly about herself.she was from delhi and she was back from a trip to khandala and pune recently and so many other stories....I didnt feel I met her for the first time at all.I have always beleived that when our thought processes go wrong,God sends a messenger to bring you to the right path.I could do without friends and relationships was a fallacy and the angel came to guide me to the right path of love.Her name was Aramita(name changed).

In the next few days Aramita jumped up speaking alot of inappropriate english words and asking me how she looked in her over done salwar kameez and earrings and continued giving me wierd stares when I put on a spegetti top customary to my habit inside a girls' hostel and to beat the summer heat...."Tu toh Bipasha kee tereh sexy hai re..."she said....I didnt expect the compliment so my eyes widened with fear and astonishment...and even bigger when one day she approached me to sleep with her in the same bed as her....I dont know why I was thinking about the lesbian stories I had heard from everywhere and commanded her to go straight to bed...I think my tone was harsh,she broke into tears saying "I love you...." Astonishement is the only adjective I can use because my vocabulary is not taking me any further!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Another of her wierd temperament was her public behaviour...loud and emotional...I dont know if I can sample out Delhi Janta to be this way,but I found it embaracing when she spoke loudly or over reacted during our interaction with seniors and in college....I never supported that and have always tried to find reason for her to alley down her behaviour to maturity...all that has gone to dumb ears....thats a different story....

However things became a bit normal one day when Aramita came and told me about her affair with a batchmate of ours.I enjoyed her innocence,her realisms and her enthusiasm...I didnt have to speak...she had so much to say....and ever since I have often counselled her over her relationship..."Men are like rubber bands dear,"I said,"Leave him alone if you feel he doesnt give you time"...I quoated John Gray(Men are from MArs, Women are from Venus)and in the next few days my mobile phone rang from Aramita's delhi landline saying..."Montee Tu kitnee achee hai,Amit aur mere beech sab theek ho gaya....thanks alot...and she wouldnt stop.....i felt on top of the world!!!I never knew that doing good was such a pleasure for me!!

Delhi winters had rendered me a bursting onion temperature and a sore throat that hadnt allowed me to eat anything in days...when Aramita came up to my room and heated up the milk and dipped peices of bread...."Shakal kya bana rakhee hai....keh nahee saktii??"she commanded and put on the lively music...I rested my tired head on her shoulder and she lovinly carassed my hair saying..."Alle...mera baby...."and I dont know why I felt that somebody had loved me for the first time in my life!!!!!I ad never felt so loved before.I felt that God had given my mummy a break to come down and be with me for a while...I started to weep in her lap!!!!!!!"Meri shakal aisee hee hai,manhoos!" I said...."Pagal,meri nazar se dekh tu kitnee cute hai....."she said with sparkling eyes...so much that i knew I had to believe her...I learned a new lesson in life...Love!

Months rolled by and Aramita watched each hit movie twice...once with her hero and once with her heroine....as she called me and I enjoyed her company at such expeditions.I knew I was adored,loved and wanted and the feeling made me to hammer out a small window in the sheild of pride in myself in the capacity to relate to friends and I hugged her into my arms and planted a kiss on her cheek because I felt for her....

One day I suddenly found that Aramita had not come to my room in ages.To my enquiry I witnessed the same Aramita with a different pair of eyes..."Meri feelings ka tumhe koi kadar nahee hai.."she complained....and that day I discovered that I hadnt been able to fulfill her expectations as a friend.She demanded support for her unruly behavior in public,motivation from friends and alot of attention which was not so much in my nature to give because of the sheild of expectations I might start to have like I had before and secondly what I feel is wrong cannot elicite support from my side just because you are my friend....unfortunately I was grossly misunderstood...

Our friendship gave way to our priorities like job search,end term exams and of course Aramita's wish to lock herself in her room and sleep late in the day or weep or chatin long hours with her boyfriend perhaps....I dont know why I felt these reasons to be more of a false substitiute to pacify her ego....I didnt utter a word...till we finally started finding some time for each other....

At the close of my course and perhaps the Delhi chapter of my life a fear grips me that I may never get to experience the loving embraces of my angel again...but I guess thats how life is.But a conviction I could confess for sure...if someone taught me to love,reinstating the faith I lost in humanity I call upon God to bless the angel with all possible dreams thant she may dream in a life time!Amen!

First Reflections of Dilwalo Ka Sheher,Dilli!

2006-04-05T03:36:00.000-07:00

The inclusion of Dilli adventures happens to be one of the most unplanned event of my life.How it came by,I will blog up later...for now...I still remember how the Rajdhani screeched to a noisy stop and a herd of people came rushing towards the train.A number of coolies climbed the bowgie and almost smashed me down to grab my luggage speaking rotton english!Ah...and thats only a decent way of putting it...another of his red clad clan of men screamed ..."behenchod!!!!....."and pushed himself towards me....I was too petrified by hiw outrageous use of the slang with that relative an ease!!!So much that I withdrew myself in fear and kept looking outside the window for a person my father had instructed me to look out for to escort me from the station to the college campus at Noida...

All I could understand is his attempt to market himself with my heavy luggage and gain one of the most handsome pays he may have got because I looked small and helpless with the humongous luggage I had carried to the city.

I slowly took out my cell phone and pressed the number of the assigned cab driver to help me out of the mess....I was too petrified by the outrageous use of these slangs which I had heard very little of in my entire life...all I knew is that it had a dirty connotation and all kinds of thoughts of rape victims and angry hooligonous men almost made me faint!Till the cab driver came to my rescue....

After the hangaama at the station,the drive to Noida seemed to be a pleasure as the AC in the car prtected me from the burning July heat...the cab driver tried to be friendly."dilli pehli baar aa rahe ho...",I nodded...."Yeh India Gate hai ji" said the Sardar..."wahe guru di kirpa,teh wahe guru ki fateh...." he murmered within himself and said "Yeh Dilli ka vadda hee famous Gurdwara hai ji....Langar bada swaad hai..."!!I enjoyed what he said because I had punjabee friends before who had taken me to the awsome generous meal of a gurudwara once....and then he started blasting the radio at me...."Red FM REd FM 98.3!!!!Bajate Raho....Dilli aapeke liye pesh hai....!!!" And I felt wierd....I just landed from Bangalore where the radio hardly ever spoke in hindi and in Kolkata I had enjoyed the hurry bury bengali of the local RJs...this made me feel wierd!!!

In the next few days I met several of my batch mates trickling in." I am from Punjab,",I am from Ludhiana,I am from Chandigarh....and my punjabee friend whispered "jat hai woh,haryana ke hatte katte....showing a broad looking girl....Bangalore had given me a habit of introdusing myself in English and all the girls looked at me in surprise as I spoke about myself....I realised that speaking in English was quite stylish and soon resrted to the wierd hindi i used to speak in my school days in Jamshedpur...."Hum jamshedpur ke hai," i said....and the room raored in laughter...."Yaar kitnee jaane ho tussie!!!!"I is supposed to be "maein".....languge and the refined hindi reminded me of the text books in 10th std where I mugged up all the lines to exhibit my clarity of language and expression and civilised people spoke these words with relative ease in the normal course of speech...it took me quite a while to understand this....

The canteen was a shock!!!Rajma chawal,Kadee Pakoda....I never relised that there were so many different types of Pulses and each day I would get to have it with rice and roti!And my favourite 10rs dosas in Bangalore were left behind....the dosas cost 25 Rs!!!my head reeled!!!And yet to pacify my taste bud I resorted to an expensive lunch only to realise that Sambar is like any other daal with alot of water....I felt sad and missed my dosas and idlis....coffee was a rupee more than tea...opposite to the experience of meals I ahd in the south....

The overdose of pulses had rendered a lose stomach in a few days as the girls and boys in the hostel were called for ragging...oopppss....my seniors will kill me....its interaction....they asked me my hobbies....I said singing....and the senior girls laughter rang up till the celing of the cafetaria...."woh gaana yaar...sajnaa....aa bhee jaa" and I cleared my throat and gav it a confident shot.....and impressed the seniors...."good" they said with disgust!!!hehhee!!clap for yourself,a grumpy fat girl said and they all left laughing and hooting!!!

Evening shoplights..."Choodiya hee Chootiya" the board said in hindi....it had been quite some time I hadnt seen hindi sign boards..."Parde hee Parde"...and Mehindiwalas articulating lovely aromatic designs on the palms of girls sitting near draisn and dirty road sides...made me feel that the stadard of living may be relatively low...only to nullify the impression as the lady hopped into a lovely chauffer driven indica car and pushed off....my hostel mate said..."dilli mein har tereh ke log hai,gareeb ameer,hep,gawaar...."

And I did realise what she said was right.A hetergenous city in the real sense of a profile took me a long time to appreciate people and make friends and as the campus neared...a huge signboard said in hindi "noida bhoomi"...UP government kee zameen hogee"....college walo ne hadap rakha hai"....she said...I was shocked!!!!per yeh dilli hai yaar,politicians sa contacts hai hamare Chauhan ji(dean) ka....koi tension thode hee hai.....!!!Dilli mein politicians hee shan hai"!!!!

In the next few weeks I needed to visit a beauty parlour for making up my bushy eye brows only to be warned by everyone how dangerous it is for me to leave the campus unaccompanied because anybody could rape me up....So me and a friend of mine entered a beauty parlour!!!!!!!!!And there I got the shock of my life!!!!!!!!!!A ladys' baeuy parlor with men inside???????what are they doing there, i enquired..."arre pagal....men are best at foot massage and hair cut ....girls are sissy"....that eye brow raising incident didnt last forever though....by the event of my next visit,the men looked unaesthetically to ladies trying to beautify themselves and then I realised that all this was a common part of their life and they were safe and harmless!!!!

The two years of my MBA is nearing an end now and I am going back to Bangalore in the next weeks after my exams.But yes I carry with myself alot of new experiences of a life time, new people with crooked brains,miserly instincts,show off in the class of novo riche' section of poulation and one thinking am smarter than the other when both parties are equally dumb to assume so....in short a glimpse of real India....which still needs alot of taming,civilization and maturity...am sorry if this sounds rude...but Dilwalo ka Sheher has a long way to go with public maturity on the whole nothwithstanding the small elite section of the society... and ya...

I finally realise..."Behen ki..."beep,beep...is a way of expresssing the height of desperate emotions, anger,humour....everything else but desire...hahaa!!!

The Me

2006-03-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

Hi!I am Monami Banerjee.Techically my name means "my best friend" in french.So anyone who meets me and addresses me even for the first time calls me his/her best friend!So I beleive that I am made to be a good friend with a deeply understanding heart.