Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Whew

That was one heavy post. Maybe its because i just realised that i cannot get away without working in office forever. :((. The force of that is just too much to bear. Ab mujhe kaam mil gaya hai. And so before i get so so neck deep in work like the rest of my better freinds that i vanish, let me write to my hearts content.

I saw Breakup the other day. Decent movie must say. And kudos to Jenny darling for taking up the project. The first part was pretty decent and though the second half was long, what was best was the ending. Something our KJo and party could never dream of, because they still beleive its always Forgive and forget in a truly Indian hindustaani parivaar. Agreed the movie here was not set in an Indian Household, but well its true here too. Things broken do not get back. and thats what the movie was about. Wont count it amongst the best, but did like it ok.

In other news, i just realised that i have a very few years of the life i love left. My grandma called me the other day, and dropped the bomb ( ouch, was that the It i was talking about :((). and i thought it was only the ladies of my age who had to go through this and not the munnas like me. tell you what, i am soon going to meet the Shastriji who made my Janamkundli , and bribe him a little ( haan haan, woh buddha ho gaya hoga, to kya, everthing has a price)....and ask him to put a couple of rahus and ketus here and there, and touch up the whole stuff.......bus dus saal ke liye setting fixed. Phir Main aur Meri tanhaai.........wah wah.

My plans of ending up on the bargad ka ped next to my freinds' homes are taking strong shape these days. I keep goofing up big time, and am soon to get killed and end up a ghost. and then i shall roam the world on the bargad trees outside each and every home of my freinds. Not that they are really worried about that. They know they committed one original sin, having me as their freind. and well they gotta take it.

Ooops, now i see It coming again.......and i got to rush before it again engulfes me...like a thousand tsunamis and god knows what.

ciao

It

All this while he had known it would happen.Expected it to happen. Steeled himself for it to happen. But never estimated the force with which it happened.

It came all of a sudden. A tiny spark, a miniscule hint, a single word, a silent whisper. and he knew it. The realisation hit in. Maybe it was because he had gotten himself accustomed to it, to picking up those clues, that he picked it up where noone else could. Maybe it was a sign from above.That its time. Time to let the truth out.

But the force of it.Something like a thousand tsunamis crashing onto a solitary island.it swept away everything, everything damn thing that came in its way. Leaving not even a trace. leaving him dazed and dazzled by its very brilliance, a brilliance he could do nothing about but admire, brilliant even in its destructivity.

But it couldnt sweep everthing. something remained. Like the tiny pea on the princess's bed, that did not let her sleep. Like a thorn that refused to go out. A nagging pain. a tiny whimper.

Life goes on. Its the same street, the same home, the same black sky and the same blue sea. The same voices, the same laughter, the same crude jokes, the same burning ambition, everything the same.........and yet.....

Not everythings the same. The sky that is black is deathly, the blue sea does not shine, the voice is faint inspite of being loud, the laughter like a shattering glass. The jokes, cruel in their humor. An ambition that stays only because it has to stay. A life that goes because it has to.

A tempest of thoughts these, that engulf him, as he sits on a solitary spot in the midst of the beach. A kid is playing ball by the sea-shore. He kicks the ball high in the air,the ball flies more than he imagined it could.......and lands on a thorny bush.....and kaphut goes the ball. The child is shattered. He bursts out crying. He cries aloud for a long time, and then goes silent. He walks over to the bush, and takes what is left of it in his hand. Silence. A long suffocating silence.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

"Subah subah ik khwab ki dastak par darwaza khola,
dekha ........................................"

This nazm by Gulzaar sahab has always evoked strong emotions within me. However with due respects to him, today that first line acted as an expression of an altogether different reaction. I opened the daily newspaper and as is my usual wont was going through the usual items and paused to glance at my horoscope when i read this

" Romance takes a beating today". and i kinda jumped. first reaction " subah subah akhbaar ki dastak pe panna palta to dekha, us paar se ek dhamki aayee hai mujhe".

Now someone please tell me, for some poor soul, all time member of the FOSLA ( Frustrated One Side Lover's Association if you please), where will something take a beating when when it does not exist. I assumed it was a warning for myself to behave or else risk being beaten up with sandals, or shoes or what have you.

The icing on the cake was when i shared this apprehension with a freind of mine and she very sweetly replied "Agar ek sandal pade, to ask for the second one, mere kaam aayegi". :((. Yeah buddy if you are reading this, well, i am just looking for the right requirements as of now.

Anyways, so this was the beginning of a glorious day for me. Now as i was again browsing through this harbringer of doom for me ( newspaper if you please), i come across this article which says that the I&B ministry has decided to ask all tv channels to apologise in public for airing all those oh so very offensive advertisements.

Now i have stopped having any political leanings for sometime now ( my mother has been after my life, because i lean a lot while walking), but somehow this great government or rather all the present governments in different parts of the country never fail to amuse me. They seem to have all the time in the world for moral policing of all kinds. And some times i just sit up thinking, how come a stupid advertisement on a stupid pair of pink polka dotted "chaddis", really offend my moral sentiments. Or how will banning an advertisement on Mc Dowell's somehow stop me from drinking my guts out, if i were one of them ( for the record i am a total teetotaller).

Ok i am all for decencies being maintained and all, but arent our mummys and daddys there to do make sure we see the right things. ( i happen to be one of the lucky souls, who has a couple of good angelic freinds who also make me shut my eyes when watching MTV at a McDonald's restaurant at Mumbai Central). why does the uncle at I&B want to become my dad. In fact my dad stopped doing it himself long time back.

anyways, its been a long tirade on this topic. and i do know one more guy writing on this issue, that too with a language handicap as mine, will not tilt the scales in favor of like minded people. But i seriously would like to believe all our nations troubles are over, what with the govts having nothing to do except to tell me what to see, what to eat, what to drink, how best to frown when my lady freinds visit this temple somewhere ( man, this is something i could write reams on, it is so gross in its idea) and so on and so forth.

meanwhile i think i shall now go back to sleep soon, and this time wait for a real dastak on a real khwaab and no not one with sandals, .......sigh..........

ciaos

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Nanhi Kali

This happens to be one of my favorite songs. My dad used to sing it to me when i was a kid. as i lay across his chest, the gentle rumbling of voice and the up and down of his chest as he sang to me, would put me to sleep in a twinkle of an eye.........sigh.....bliss

Nanhi Kali ( from the Hindi Film "Sujata")

hava dheere aana
nind bhare pankh liye jhoola jhoola jaana
nanhi kali sone chali hava dhire aana
nind bhare pankh liye jhoola jhoola jaana
nanhi kali sone chali


chaand kiran si gudiya naajon ki hai pali - 2
aaj agar chaandaniya aana meri gali
gun gun gun git koi haule haule gaana
nind bhare pankh liye jhoola jhoola jaana


resham ki dor agar pairon ko ulajhaaye - 2
ghungharu ka daana koi shor macha jae
daane mere jaage to phir nindiya tu bahalaana
nind bhare pankh liye jhoola jhoola jaana
nanhi kali sone chali hava dhire aana

Saturday, August 05, 2006

The Rickshawwallah

I saw him first in my first year of college. Short, dark, with a large moustache, stooped back, he stood outside our hostel "rajendra bhawan", ready with his rickshaw. Ready to offer his services to the motely group of Facchas as we were called.

The first day me and my roomie used his rickshaw to travel down to civil lines to make some purchases, we were caught by a group of seniors who made us get down and ragged us. For the next one month, we of course were never allowed to use rickshaws and had to do all the walking around the campus.

After that however, it was always " Bhaiya, civil lines chalo", " Bhaiya, library", or simply " Chemical Department". And he would simply smile and start on his way. Oh and he always had a word of greeting for us. Always would ask us how we were or something. I remember once i was talking to my co-traveller, and mentioned something about the army, and he immediately butted in, saying he used to be a Subedar in the army. And then he started recounting somethings. Of course, restless as we youngsters always were, we rarely listened to him with full ears as he ranted about. So after awhile he would go quite.

There were times, when i did chat with him. Especially when i was travelling alone. And he would ask me " babuji kaise hain, padhai kaisi chal rahi hai" or a typical " kaafi dino se baithe nahin aap".

There were other times when if you got on his rickshaw, he would smell of alcohol. Those were the times he was quiet. He would just go about doing his job. drop you at civil lines, or the library or if you wish at the girl's hostel. And once you paid, he would salute in his trademark style and just cycle away, unless someone called him.

Years passed by and we kept changing our hostels from rajendra, to ganga, to govind finally. Every year one could find him waiting at the gates of one of the hostels. Like so many other things , i guess he too became an integral part of my college life. And when i left college, like the rest of the things, i found myself missing him too.

I bet hes still there, waiting as always at some gate or the other. Someday ill go back to my college meet him and well say " Thank you". He might not understand. Or maybe he will.

Rain Teaser

As i stepped out of my home to go to office today, it started drizzling, and by the time i had managed to catch an auto to my office, it was pouring. In less than 15 minutes, within which i reached office, it stopped. As suddenly as it had begun.

That is the rains here for you. Of course you can discount the 944 mm floody downpour of last year or the 150 mm one this year beginning which sent everyone into a tizzy. Barring these few, its always a quick heavy downpour and then a slow slight drizzle. A teasing drizzle. A taunt, a wink and a smile. and then a loud laugh, again followed by another taunt, a wink and a smile. It goes on forever.

I guess its the games that gods play. They sure do get bored up there dont they. So they like to have a little fun with us mortal souls on this land. And Monsoons are the best time i guess. So you have heavy downpours someplaces, while the rest remain parched.

At places, you have eyes dry in anticipation of a few drops, while at others, eyes that dont open at all, so heavy it is.

And yet the season brings with it so many different colors. You see the kids dancing around, trying to keep their paper boats afloat. The elders of homes sitting in their balconies, watching the slow pitter patter. The smell of hot tea and luscious pakoras. That couple sneaking out for a little time alongside the stormy sea at the stand. Of course you also see the nuisance that the concrete brings, the noisy road snarls, the lone vardi vaala trying to put somesense, the delays and all.

all combined to give another kaliedoscope. Serene at times, wild at others, and yet always a cute little game.

Cheers