A LUNCH TO REMEMBER

I once had an opportunity to visit a village deep inside Gujarat, with 3 of my team mates as a part of my rural dissertation project. I would call visiting a village an opportunity because what I felt there was a peculiar feeling of purity and rawness that’s always absent in metros. That village was quite unapproachable and we had to walk a lot and also take local modes like makeshift autos and carts.

The serenity and tranquility there was capable enough to cast its spell on anyone; I too fell in love with the pristine nature. The view was quite scenic and very beautiful. We interviewed a farmer as a part of our project. That old farmer and his wife were very courteous and requested four of us to stay back for lunch.

The food was freshly prepared. The chapattis were made on an earthen tava (hot plate), the menu consisted of baingan ka bhurta, kacche chane ki sabzi, bajre ki roti, achar (pickle), gur (jaggery) and chhachh (thin salted curd). The taste was as wonderful as that village itself. Flavor coupled with loving hosts made that lunch truly memorable. No cuisine in this entire world could match that taste and flavor. I still long for that tadka! The spices were far more aromatic than all those packaged ones available in the cities.

Also, there was a cotton tree in their backyard. With their permission I collected lots of pure cotton in a plastic bag; I still use that for my puja-path.

I LOVE MY SOLITUDE :)

I am writing this based on the personal experiences I had, not once but many times. Not just with me, I have seen this happening with other people as well, irrespective of genders.

This has to do with a psychic conditioning of people: that if a person is sitting alone, he/she is sad for sure! Many a time when I would sit and enjoy the natural beauty in solitude and lost in my dreams, some ‘well-wishers’ would come and bug me for being alone, about what was ‘bothering’ me and would go on giving sympathy and advice absolutely uncalled for, like a radio without controls. It becomes difficult for me to ask them to leave and let me enjoy my time alone. Often, such people think they are doing me a huge favor by sharing my ‘depression’ and are worthy of special respect. It really becomes difficult for me to convince them that I am actually enjoying!

More I stress on this fact, more ‘sentimental’ they become and more sympathy they give. I’m grateful to them for showing such concern, but anyway, why can’t they just leave me alone when I want and let me enjoy the natural scenery or ponder over other important things! I am sure you all too must have faced such a situation at sometime or the other.

Why a person sitting alone is perceived by default to be depressed or sad. Why do we love to poke our noses in the private time of other people???

Fiction 55 no. 3

Since poor and illiterate, they wondered why their anemic teenage daughter fainted frequently.

Thus they went to a famous ‘tantrik baba’ who announced she was possessed.Baba took their semi-conscious daughter to a dark room for ‘treatment’. They were relieved that the evil spirit was gone.

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.

.

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But only she knew what else she had lost.....

Fiction 55 -no.2

That day kitty party was in her posh penthouse.

They raised a toast for the hapless children, spoke highly on how child labor must be stopped at all costs and that such kids desperately need love, education and care.

When done, hungry Chhotu rushed to clean the mess with his tiny hands and hopeful eyes.

Fiction 55

That hall was clumsy. Elderly people everywhere, like discarded and rusted tools that were once sharp and shiny. Son again convinced the father about their shifting together to village for which the father sold off his property. Outside, with cool breath and a fat cheque, son passionately kissed the letter which read ‘permanent immigration granted’.

Angelina Jolie

I miss you :(

I stare at you with goggle eyes

Your guts, courage and zest towards life

You smile at me with twinkling eyes

I try to hold your hand that slowly fades

What remains are our moist memories

Like moon in the clouds you come and disappear

Although like a star you shine even in the darkest of the nights

Your memories are as precious as you are

For they still light up my paths

You set me free like wind unleashed

But still I hold on to you for you only rule my thoughts

As I take next step with an aching heart

You come again and hug me tight

That jolts me and I awake to this real world

Where you are just another memory for all

But I still need your hand even to stand let alone walk.........

DESERT GIRL

26/11/2008: A BLACK DAY

Last year this date was written in black. Not just the people of Mumbai but the entire nation finds it difficult to forget the macabre incident that happened in the Taj hotel in Mumbai. But the question is what have we learnt from that? The Leopold cafe was reconstructed and opened soon after and the hotel started functioning as well. The crisis management team of the Tata group is amazingly strong but, what about the crisis management of the Indian government. We still have no preventive measures worth the name; no solid steps against terrorism, only loud noise.

It is shameful on the part of the government that in the very first place the terrorists could enter so easily with loads of arms and ammunitions inside the country. Secondly even a year after the terror attacks, nothing substantial has been done yet to prevent such incidents further. The much trumpeted anti-terrorism measures remain till date largely on paper only. The families of the slain policemen are living on pavements; this is indeed a big slap on the system’s face. After the operation, the commandoes were huddled off in local buses, how disgusting it is!

SRI HEMANT KARKARE (IPS) Joint Commissioner Of Police, Anti Terrorist Squad, Mumbai.

Thirdly, the role of media was rather destructive. To gain the TRPs the channels continuously showed the current details live which updated the terrorists and their mentors more than the public. If media had acted in a mature manner, fatalities would perhaps be much less. But we have a strong tendency of not learning anything from the past tragedies. Every time and everywhere we turn to our ‘chalta hai’ mode. Now a day the news channels are more in grabbing TRP than showing something useful. Dedication of prime time slots to Shilpa Shetty’s wedding appeared to them more important than the sufferings of the attack victims. Her mehandiwali’s interview held a priority over what the attack victims’ families cried for.

Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan

NSG Commando

The CM of Kerala openly insulted the slain Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan’s parents in their own house. The families of other slain heroes are still awaiting action by the sleepy and indifferent government machinery on the promises doled out to them. Shame on such a system! And I think because of such a treatment to our forces, youngsters are thinking twice before joining defense services, and that’s again a big slap on the government’s face.

But then, the government’s apathy and slumber are nothing new. At least for Mumbai, be it terror attack or repeated flooding of the city, the government has invented an easy shelter to hide behind- ‘the spirit of Mumbaikar’. True, the Mumbaikars have shown a remarkable resolve in coping up with the miseries that have struck their city, but the government has exploited it to cover up its inefficiency to such an extent that now it appears to be more of a commoners’ compulsion to keep the life going.

Is somebody listening?

(http://ibnlive.in.com/mumbaimemories/heroesofmumbai.php)

Bicycle memoirs

After a long gap I’m here again today; missed something badly (on which this post is based), and really I was wishing if only I could go back to those good old days, if only I could reverse the time…but now I can only try to hold those memories and write such crazy posts based on them!!

Cutting my long story short, actually I am missing my bicycle, my cute bicycle I rode for years. Now it is not here, it was sold off to kabadi-walla bhaiyya two years back (who gave it as a rakhi gift to his sister) because I did not have time and also, neither the traffic nor my mom allowed me to ride it as freely I used to. And I have also noticed that kids are no longer titillated by a bicycle but yearn for bikes. Boys long for bikes and consider themselves next only to John Abraham and gals prefer stylish scooty. Poor old cycle is out of fashion. Also, there is no cycling space left.

The roads are already congested and rash drivers are a menace. And the cyclists are considered by default to belong to the lower middle or poor class, and are expected to make way for the roaring automobiles. Kids no longer have time and the stamina as well to cycle.

I really miss my old cycle and still remember how I much elated I was the day I got it, how fondly I used to clean it every day and etc etc.