Archive for September 2014
Poor man’s fight
Not 5 mins back two people in my coach were having a shouting match. Topic “Whose space was it to put the luggage?” Let me call them passenger A and B.
B came and found luggage space under his seat occupied. He asked around and nobody claimed. The bags were exchanged and B settled down.
10 mins later A entered. His seat was couple of rows away. He flew into rage seeing his luggage on the ground. And the slinging match started. Clearly A was in wrong here but I don’t want to go into it.
Have you observed that chances of such fights are higher in trains than in planes; higher in sleeper coaches than in AC coaches; higher in city bus than in private AC bus; higher in hot places than in cooler climates. In fact they increase with decreasing money in the pocket.
Two relatively poor people are prone to fight over such things more than two relatively rich people.
Guess everything is a fight for survival for us poor strata of people.
Fart by Heart
I am travelling via train to my hometown. Given the upcoming extra long weekend, the trains are bulging with passengers. Just as I settled in my seat and started to take a nap, I woke up with a nauseating smell.
My fellow passenger introduced us to the lunch he took earlier in the day. It was a sickening smell which left us looking for cover in true sense.
My head became heavy and heart beat a notch higher. Just as I tried to acclimatise, the next attack. I lost all my senses and the will to live.
Since all I can think now is fart, I thought to put it to creative use. How does the below things smell now?
1. Flip-fart
2. Fart-tey raho
3. Fart bina chain kaha re
4. Fart-ti utaaroon main
5. My fart will go on…
6. Fart-tiya ilaaz hai bhaisaab.
7. Deepak Chourasia Fart Tak
8. Aisa com-fart aur kahan
9. Fart se maar do isey
10. I like Fartists.
Should Have Been
Should have been a fish,
Sometimes I do wish,
Swim across the ocean,
Splash aqua, lots of fun.
Should have been a bird,
If my voice was heard,
Fly front n back, low n high,
Mine would be whole sky.
Should have been a ‘roach,
But maker didn’t approach,
Nothing to care or to attend,
Be alive even if all else end.
Should have been a Sundae,
If they followed my fundae,
Chocolate fudge n Whipped cream,
Has been one of those dream.
Should have been a chicken,
Out of my wishful thinken’,
No fights, No shouts loud,
I could always chicken out.
Should have been a popcorn,
It’s what I want, why u scorn?
Poppin n Jumpin quite a lot,
Put in oven, my backside hot.
Should have been a turd,
Formed out of milk n curd,
Gave a fellow satisfaction,
As I came outta captivation.
Disgracing Journalism
As the number of news channels grew, the quality of journalism took a hit. Quality v/s quantity debate has been for long and journalism was not left untouched.
Media is considered one of the pillars of democracy and hence the concept of Free Media. Free in the sense that no pressure or censorship from outside. Media is expected to be self-regulated, just like judiciary. However vested interests among media are hell bent to destroy this.
Over the years reporters have put their life on the line. Hence it pains me to write this. Ever since Radia tapes came out and two senior journalists were named, it was sad to see that they were not shamed. They kept their jobs, were not shunned. They prospered even more.
The self-regulation of media was required. Alas! It was not to be. Modi was hounded by media persons for 12 years and rightly so. I applaud media to do so. But now that he is PM and on a foreign tour we should hold our horses. As long as he is abroad, debates should be on his foreign policy and relations with that country. There will be a lot of time to dissect his old doings when he comes back.
A senior media person, to get into fist fight with people in a foreign land, does not bide well for journalism as a whole. In Deepika v/s TimesOfIndia, where it was evident media house was in wrong, the reporters kept coming out with the sleaziest of POV’s that could be.
In this case also the senior reporter was the first to come out with a video, which turned out to be half-truth. When I first saw the video, I was supportive of him and angry at the un-civilized crowd. But after seeing the entire video, I am just speechless. I urge media once again to stand up and make self-regulation counted. But the only response I see from media is, “Mehhh…”.
Weekends: End of a Romance
There are days when Thursday feels like advent of weekend. Then there are days when Friday feels like a weekday still. I am sure most of us would have had this feeling one time or the other.
What leads to these emotions? Sometimes if the work is less on Thu, the mood remains jolly and we feel a fake Fri. Probably a Fri with lots of work makes us forget the charming Sat/Sun. Then there are long weekends (with Fri a holiday) and there are working Sat.
As I grow older, the boundaries are somewhat getting blurred. I am able to schedule my work better. Find time on weekdays if I want, work on weekends if so required. The charm of weekends seems to have watered down.
These days my activity level goes down on weekends, and I long to get back to work, just to get the kick. It would have sounded laughable to me few years ago, when all I lived was for weekends.
In fact the charm of month ends (read salary days), is also not so much now. EMI’s have probably killed the romance.
I might find some charm back of Weekends/Monthends once I have a family. At least I hope so!
पगली की याद
क्या तुमने मुझको याद किया,
जब तूने मुझसे पुछा उस दिन,
क्यों बोलूं झूठ, न याद किया,
पगली याद करूँ गर भूलूँ मैं।
बात कभी अब तुम न करते,
लगता है मुझसे ऊब गए हो,
ऊबने की बात है कहाँ से आई,
पगली दिलचस्पी पूरी ले तो लूँ।
मिलने को बुलाती, तुम न आते,
हर पल बस दूर ही भागे जाते,
अपनी दूरी कैसे बढ़ सकती है,
पगली पास तो पूरा आ जाऊं।
सुनते ही नहीं, मैं बड़-२ करती,
बिलकुल भी मुझपे ध्यान नहीं,
अरे सोचूँ मैं कुछ और तो तब,
पगली ध्यान से पहले हटे तो तू।
सजके सँवरके आई थी मैं,
एक स्वर भी प्रशंसा नहीं करी,
कितनी मैं करूँ तारीफ तेरी,
पगली हर रोज परी है लगती तू।
व्रत था तुम्हारे लिए रखना,
डांट के तुमने मना किया क्यों,
तू सुनती मेरी क्या डांट बिना,
पगली तुझे भूखा कैसे देख सकूँ।
क्या तुमने मुझको याद किया,
जब तूने मुझसे पुछा उस दिन,
क्यों बोलूं झूठ, न याद किया,
पगली याद करूँ गर भूलूँ मैं।।
Mars Orbiter and India
Mars Orbiter takes India to dizzying heights in Space research. You would have already read a lot about technical intricacies of the mission, so I would not elaborate on that. That’s the stuff for geniuses anyways.
I recall a conversation from decade back from college days. Topic of Mars exploration came up and we wondered when our country would achieve that. It was during college and quite few of us wanted to be part of this dream.
I remember a funny reply that one my friend gave in a drunken stupor. “Hey, I would move to US; become a citizen there. My Country would then have gone to Mars Man! Simple”. Not that he really meant what he said. Such characters who could play with words either ways used be in abundance.
Out of the nations ravaged by colonial rule, we are way ahead. Chaiwaala becoming a PM is one of the things that keep sanity in this country. We know that hard work pays here and there is no need to grab and dash. Mars Orbiter also showcases the exploits of that hard work.
Hope MOM gives impetus to next generation of Space Research in India.
Nehru v/s Gandhi: The evil of dynasty
Nehru was known to be the closest confidant of Gandhi. This perception was formalized when Gandhi blessed Nehru as India’s first PM.
I am no one to question to Gandhi’s judgment. In fact Nehru did quite a good job to keep the nation together. Other nations who got independence around the same time were withering away while India progressed. Backbone of India’s technological advancement could be attributed to Nehru’s forward thinking.
However Nehru gave India something much more evil, “The curse of dynastic politics”. Here Gandhi was different from Nehru. People accuse Gandhi of neglecting his children, but for me it was Gandhi’s yet another sacrifice for the nation.
He knew nothing good comes out of dynasty. Had Gandhi nurtured his own children, they would be heading congress rather than the Nehru clan.
Gandhi, the saint that he was, could not get himself to do that. He kept his children out of politics. For me he was an accidental father. In essence he was more like top national leaders of BJP, who either didn’t have children or never forwarded them into politics.
When Gandhi forwarded Nehru, he would not have anticipated what would become of his legacy. He would have wanted Nehru to do the same that he himself did. Making his daughter, his Chief of Staff, would be the last thing Gandhi would have wanted Nehru to do.
गोलू मेरे पास है
मुझे पढ़ते वक़्त कलम से कुछ भी लिखने/बनाने की आदत है। कोई चित्र, कोई शब्द, कुछ भी। यह मेरे ख्यालों से अपने आप निकलते हैं। “मैं गोलू के पास हूँ, गोलू मेरे पास है”, एक दिन पढ़ते वक़्त मैं यह लिख बैठा किताब पे। कुछ देर के पश्चात, मेरा एक मित्र मुझसे मिलने आया और उसकी नज़र इस लाइन पे पड़ गयी। वह हंस-२ के लोटपोट हो गया।
इस किस्से को करीब १० साल हो गए, पर मेरा मित्र इसे भूल नहीं पाया। न ही उसने मुझे भूलने दिया। जबतब वह मेरी टांग खींचता रहता है, इस बात पर।
मित्रों ऐसे कितने ही किस्से हो जाते हैं जीवन में। कुछ हम संजोह पाते हैं, कुछ धुंधले हो जाते हैं। दोस्त भी ऐसे ही एक किस्से की तरह होते हैं। कुछ से हम संपर्क में रहते हैं, कुछ अतीत का हिस्सा बनकर रह जाते हैं। कितना अच्छा हो अगर हम ऐसी हर याद को अपने पास रख पाएं, जब तब अनुभव कर पाएं उस एहसास का।
एक अंग्रेजी चित्रपट में दिखाया गया था की कैसे हम अपने मष्तिष्क में अपनी हर याद को संझोह के रख सकते हैं। हम एक ऐसी दुनिया बसा सकते हैं जिसमें हमें अपने सारे मित्र, परिवार, एक साथ रहने का आभास दें। बस आँखें बंद करें और डूब जाएँ अपनी यादों के समुन्दर में।
गोलू भी वही दर्शाता है। मैं गोलू के करीब उतना ही हूँ, जितना गोलू मेरे करीब रहना चाहता है। यह एक दुराही मार्ग है। कोई याद अगर कड़वी है, तो उसे हम कहीं गहराई में दफना देते हैं। गोलू और मैं दूरी बना लेते हैं।
जिन लोगों से हम संपर्क में रहते हैं, वह लोग हमसे संपर्क में रहना चाहते हैं। वह हमारे लिए गोलू होते हैं, हम उनके लिए गोलू होते हैं। अत: मैं गोलू के पास हूँ, गोलू मेरे पास है।
Vrindavan Widows: The Helpless Old Ladies
My hometown, Agra is next to Vrindavan. A drive to the temple and back used to be our once in month getaway, growing up. The place is divine in the true sense. You will have to visit once to get the feel of it
Recently the female MP, who is an actor by profession, made a comment on the widows that stay in the city. They were called unwelcome beggars among other things.
I am not really sure since when these ladies started coming here. But it has been quite some time. “Going by your deeds, I don’t expect you will take care of me. If your father goes before me, I will got to Vrindavan and live there”, mothers chastise their sons in this side of the world, albeit in jest.
I won’t take a theoretical approach here. I will admit, as per my first hand knowledge, what the MP said is true to some extent. They do beg for money and a lot of people who visit the city are more than willing to help the old ladies in whites. But this is where the truth of her statement ends.
I agree that most of the ladies come from across the country. But they come here when they have nowhere else to go. When the husband dies, the house and the money is gobbled up by the relatives in remote villages even today and these ladies are left with nothing.
Just because there exists a place called Vrindavan, a large number of them are alive. Or else they would have been dead by now. It needs to be celebrated and not looked down upon. Virndavan has become synonymous with LIFE for such ladies across the country.
The MP was recently mocked for not spending time in her constituency where ideally she should permanently stay. Given this background, such a statement reeks of desperation to rake up some local emotions and make her presence count.
Being a lady herself, she should have used this as a divine opportunity to serve and take care of vulnerable and helpless ladies. Small scale industries can be set up here, utilizing this ready made labor. This would not only give them a dignified life, but also take care of the issues that the MP has mentioned.
But Alas! That would require her devoting time and energy here. It’s more convenient to visit for a day; make some disparaging remark; go back to Mumbai and sleep in peace.
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