Monday, November 4, 2013

Happy Diwali

Dil bata tune diya kyu jalaya?
Meri ankhon me chubhti is roshni ko niharne,
ya yeh dekhne
ki kaise tilmila uthta hain yeh mann
in patakhon ki aawazon se?

Har saal badti umar ko taaweez banake pehna hain
fir kyu lagi is tarah nazar mere bachpan ko?
Sawalon me jhoonjhte is dare hue man ke
sirf kono me bache he woh khushi wale lamhe.

Kya yeh tera chirag talega yeh andhera?
Kya firse goonjegi kilkariyan ajab?
Kya laut ayega mera bachpan?
Laut ayegi maasoomiyat?

Nahi pata toh bujha de ise
Aur sone de mujhe
mukt hone de mujhe
in jhooti tasalliyon se

Kuch din yaad karke fir bhool jaungi
kaise  manta tha tyohar...
khel wala tyohar, mel wala tyohar
mithai wala tyohar, badhayi wala tyohar
aur jhoot moot haske bol doongi facebook pe
Happy Diwali.

Friday, September 13, 2013

The Riot

Revenge it is... What revenge? Revenge for what? Who said it is on your shoulders to take revenge? Will killing all these people reverse time and set everything all right? It will not. What urges you to take that axe and plunge it into the flesh which belongs to another religion? Does it satiate the ire, the humiliation, the helplessness? Or does it make way for more? What can possibly explain taking another persons life just because he doesnt pray to your God? Who is your God? Does He endorse bloodshed, encourage outraging the modesty of women and axing off heads of children because some hot headed youngster of another community thought it was better to murder someone from yours? How can you be so naive, so silly, so savage and yet the most intelligent animal to have walked on Earth?

So that our kids live without fear in future. Right. Your children. What about those children who wake up shrieking in the middle of the night because they learnt the concept of death watching someone die in front of them, pleading, grovelling at your feet for life. Did you care to notice that when you plunged that sickle into his head that they dint shriek, or run away? They stayed their. Horror made its home inside their little heads and trickled down on their cheeks as tears. They dint cry. They just stayed, the warm tears on their faces seeming as casual as water droplets clinging to a glass of chilled water. The elder one held the younger one tightly, close to her little chest and stared. She dint look at you when you were sawing away a hand and stamping at the dead body. She dint look at you when you mouthed obscenities about their religion and their God. But just when you were walking away, she looked at you. She dint know how to say this, albeit, she wished you had killed her as well.... thought it was better to die than to live a life with a memory of how it ends.... than to live in a world where people do scary things to each other when they get angry. The younger one whimpered. But the elder one stayed still... and watched you pry for more prey. What makes you think they dint die then? They did, their childhood did.

So that we can reinstate our pride in calling ourselves one-knit and our faith in God. So you ten of you  armed with knives et all can kill five of others. Whats the great deal in that? You call that power? Anyone can do it. Do you have the power to undo all this? No. If you do, That is Power. Do you think with all that blood in your hands, there will come a time when you can live in peace? No. As you age more and you become dependent on your kids to eat, bathe and defecate, you'll realize that the world goes on because there is someone else who cares about you. The world goes on, because there is love. The time dint stop when you committed that murder. It went on, patiently, waited for you to become callous and high on your power and pounced on you when you were the most vulnerable. Just like you did on them. Look at what you have done. Every night while looking at your image in the mirror, you'll find a new bloodstain on your face. No matter how much you clean-up it will never be enough. You will leave all this behind - Money, land, property, pride, power, community, religion, politics... But you'll take one thing to the place you go to after your death... That bloodstain.

Monday, August 5, 2013


Some days are so powerful. You get up like a huge fireball of energy, crackling with such levels of enthusiasms you dont know what to do much with. When your itinerary comprises errands and not valuation of huge debt laden infrastructure projects, you are usually left over with the euphoria that leaves you bouncing for more. Today is such day. I have't been able to study much for an oncoming competitive examination (yes, iss umar mein bhi) but even then, the long to do list was worrying me till yesterday.. not anymore. :)

And it is during these days that you cross analyse yourself and thank God that you are different from so many people around you. Underlying intention - to point out that i like seeing the differences around me and celebrate them once in a while (okay, maybe not always like on an everyday every minute basis.. that would be irritating and scary). It is a pleasure-some act. I spent my weekend at my in-laws' place this weekend as my home was to undergo a pest control process (my folks cant seem to get rid of me, so they're trying to pressurize the others ;)) So i had the pleasure of working with my ma in law in the kitchen after a long time. I couldnt help but realise how much i missed her slow, patient approach to cooking. When im in the kitchen, i usually tend to work in a manner which makes sure i finish my work asap. With the baby shrieking for attention, and all routine morning chores pending, i dont even waste a minute for anything lest i lose valuable time. I've taken after my mom when it comes to working in the kitchen. But mummy (ma in law) is totally the opposite. She is the.. umm.. epitome of patience and simplicity. If it takes time, so be it. Having said that, she is never late in finishing any task. She is one of the most punctual people i have seen. So, the point im trying to drive here is that after having worked in a way where speed is the essence, working at a slow pace, with someone telling you that its okay... to do it this way.. to keep the flame at the lowest point.. to let the broth boil for two minutes more.. and also that i could leave, and that would be taken care of, was so reassuring. It was eye opening... to work slowly, without having to worry about the time. I realised how attractive simplicity can be; how pleasing it can be to do a chore in a way that if it were the last chore to be done by you on earth, you know you couldn't have done better...

So i got up today feeling so simple and uncluttered. I had loads to do but that dint worry me. I took the chore one at a time and got it done with. Some i postponed for tomorrow because as someone wise told me, poore saal ka khana ek din me nahi kha sakte... ;)

I Discovered. When my friends talk about having gone to their mothers' place for a vacation and how they spent their entire days doing nothing and having nothing to worry about, i gawk at them and smile, a little envious that i cant have that pleasure anymore, now that Ma's physically and emotionally dependent on me due to her medical history. When parents become dependent on you, the child in you dies a natural death. You grow up in ways you cant have imagined - overnight. So much so that after some time you cant successfully relate to the feeling of having been a child once. But you learn to love them in a different way. And you learnt to be patient with them in a way that pays off for their dedication of having raised you. But as i said, i discovered. :) i discovered that I have my mother in law to fall back on. It's a relief to know you can actually be a child and let others take control of your life at times. At times, its comforting to know that you can take a break from driving this roller coaster, sit back and enjoy the ride :) Love the way life comes up with solutions... :)

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

How to overcome a habit...

Sharanya usually doesn't like people disappearing into bathrooms. For her, this absence means total lack of contact and since she can't see what's happening, she is uncertain and thus scared whether we would come out of it soon or what. Though she doesn't mind or question the purpose of the visit, she surely does abhor the thought of being left 'alone' (even if that means just a couple of minutes). Our usual way to overcome this is leaving the scene quietly and getting the work done. I mean, obviously, we cant come up with anything more creative (or lets say defensive) in such 'delicate' circumstances. But that comes with caveats. One of them being deafening screams and the baby standing right outside the bathroom's door as we hurry with our ahem.. work (which, unfortunately, seems quite outside the realms of being voluntary when under pressure to perform faster). I know, it's tricky. But I must admit that I have seen this in quite a few toddlers - the anxiety when their parent goes into the bathroom. Quite inexplicable i must say. However, there's no other way around it. Some day, they would have to learn that going in is followed by coming out and that they are not actually being left out from whatever 'fun' we are thought of being having there (no puns intended ;)). Apparently, my lil one has learnt of other ways of coping with this....
This happened when she was at my in laws' place, and my mom in law sneaked out to visit the loo lest she created a ruckus. But then, she did realise the 'lack of presence' (if i can call it so) and started howling at the top of her voice. My father in law was left helpless as she simply wouldn't calm down. So he took her into the kitchen and gave her a lil bit of sugar to eat. To his relief, the situation at hand was immediately put under control. The next day, when Sharanya discovered that her Grandma was in to the loo, she went to her Granddad and asked, "Achhacha, where is Achhamma?" "In the bathroom..." he replied and braced himself for the repercussions. Sharanya blinked and said, "Achhachha, i want sugar." 
There... matter resolved. :)

I Discovered. Bribing doesn't always lead to corruption. ;)

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

The Re-Start

I Discovered. It's such a powerful phrase. The pride of having achieved something I never thought I would have (not to prove my win over someone, but just because i wanted to).. the burst of excitement of that little child within who wants to yell on top of the mountains about her lovely find.. the disbelief that this could happen after all... the relief of having reached that penultimate point. All of it bundled in two words... I Discovered.

It suddenly became important to document all of it... My discoveries. And then there were these ideas that never would stop flowing. My poor mind could no longer hold on to all of it.  Though there was my old blog to write in, it was as if i wanted to start all over again. But the feeling that time was not enough got the better of me. Until now. Not that i suddenly have a lot of time to kill. It is just that i dont want to regret not having done this.... Of writing about all of it. Better late than never! At this point, let me admit that this change in me came primarily with the coming of my daughter, two years ago. My life obviously changed forever as she came into our lives. Motherhood is like a bumper injection of maturity and patience, to say the least. But not only has my role as a human being changed, I too have changed as a person... for the better. 

My discoveries are, sorry to say, pretty run of the mill, ordinary ones. Nothing that one has not yet seen or heard or experienced. They are more on the lines of being rediscoveries. As my child grows up, a lil bit, day by day, i too am growing up.. as a mother, and as a sentient being who had forgotten about the intricacies of life. And i realise that as an adult, lil things dint matter. Lil things were overloooked. Lil things were ordinary and dint evoke any sense of joy or happiness. Over the years they became so forgotten that one fine day, i realised that my life was only full of huge huge things. Want a list? Huge lists, hugs bills, huge loans, huge chores. huge queues, huge traffic, huge buildings, huge potholes, huge corruption scandals. And the things that were now lil or less were things that i needed more.. like less time, less money, less tolerance, less beauty, less parks. I know there can be other ways of looking at this. Now, as i grow up all over again, i am re-experiencing the joys of all those lil things. And suddenly, my life is simpler, i worry less and i have solutions to everything. Okay, take that with a pinch of salt. There still are problems that hound me. There are days when i feel i am no good for man or beast. But what has changed is my way of tackling my problems. I now try to see the world from my daughters point of view. And that makes everything seem so trivial. You see, for a child, everything is simple. The elephant is huge and the ant is tiny. But both can be drawn on the slate. And on the slate, the ant can be bigger than the elephant. What the hell is so complicated about that? :) Got my point? 

I Discovered. Everyday of my life is full of little moments of joy that i usually overlooked. And i decided i write them down so i never forget them again. The crows that sit on the railings of my balcony have really shiny beaks and very long nails on their claws. The clouds in the sky run around like crazy with the winds. There are yellow, white, purple, pink and red flowers in the garden below my building. Little things that dint matter, matter now. Of course i knew all of this before. But i couldn't exclaim and clap and be overjoyed on seeing them. Not if i dint want to be tagged as a crazy woman. Imagine someone clapping and jumping with joy at the sight of a pigeon flapping its feathers to take off. I can do all of this with my lil one, without being looked at as a madwoman. Hehe.. One has to see the light in her eyes when she spots the moon in the sky. "Moon, Chandamama, Ambilmamman.", she would exclaim in all possible languages she knows. I echo her joy, reach out to her and hug her. And when she sees that her happiness is my happiness. She doesn't stop smiling for a long time. Small thing, isn't it?

So this one and the ones that will follow is for her. My lil child, Sharanya. Because it is she who inspired me to think again.. to write again. And taught me to discover life again. So here they are... My lil discoveries.