Any Hunk can woo a babe,
Pleasure is to dream doing it when you look ordinary.
Any Filthy Rich can own a Merc,
Pleasure is to dream of it while you walk under burning sun in your worn out jeans, in torn foot wear with an empty wallet.
Any Genius can become successful,
Pleasure is to do it with your average intelligence.
Any one can use and admire natural gifts of fortune
Pleasure is to create that, which does not exist and leave a legacy...
The Happy Prince.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
The Cricket of Life
May be because I’m an Indian but I see cricket as a game that represents life the best. No matter what happens, every situation in life is so amazingly depicted in the rules, situations and strategies of this game.
Just imagine yourself as the captain of a team. Your goal is to win the game at any cost. For this purpose you pick players. You pick players according to the weather conditions, pitch, team you are playing against and your strategy.
Suppose you have batsman like Sachin Tendulkar on your side, you put your trust in him to score. You trust him and expect him to make runs for you. In your strategy that precise is his role. You have a bowler like Anil Kumble. You put your trust in him to take wickets for you. That is his role.
Sachin may get out on the first ball, Kumble may be hit for sixers over after over. You never know who will work, who will fail. You may win or lose the game because of it, but whatever the result, as a captain of the team, you are responsible for the result.
Sometimes your best players may be sold out. They may fix the match against you, turn their backs to you and yet, you will be responsible for the result. You can’t cite their unfaithfulness as a reason for your loss.
Just imagine a situation:
You’re sitting in the dressing room while your best players are getting out one by one. They’re coming to the dressing room with their heads bowed in shame while your strategy, your game, your goal is going for a toss. Or another situation, you’re on the field and all of your bowlers are being taken for a ride.
At such times, there’s no use getting angry at these players of yours. Their part in your game is over. They are out of your strategy and plan of action. The question in front of you at such times is, “What can I do now?” And not “How could these players be such big fools?” or “How could this X fool forget his basics? Is he cheating? Has he sold himself out?”
There is no use of asking the later questions. If you have an answer to the first question only then you can win the game. Because your goal is not to teach cricket to your players, your job is to use their skills to win your game; not to instill values among them.
One thing you must always remember: You can’t play without others. You’ll have to trust them but you can’t and shouldn’t depend on them. Ultimately, it’s your game, your win and your loss.
Play your game with players. Don’t let players play your game.
The Happy Prince.
Just imagine yourself as the captain of a team. Your goal is to win the game at any cost. For this purpose you pick players. You pick players according to the weather conditions, pitch, team you are playing against and your strategy.
Suppose you have batsman like Sachin Tendulkar on your side, you put your trust in him to score. You trust him and expect him to make runs for you. In your strategy that precise is his role. You have a bowler like Anil Kumble. You put your trust in him to take wickets for you. That is his role.
Sachin may get out on the first ball, Kumble may be hit for sixers over after over. You never know who will work, who will fail. You may win or lose the game because of it, but whatever the result, as a captain of the team, you are responsible for the result.
Sometimes your best players may be sold out. They may fix the match against you, turn their backs to you and yet, you will be responsible for the result. You can’t cite their unfaithfulness as a reason for your loss.
Just imagine a situation:
You’re sitting in the dressing room while your best players are getting out one by one. They’re coming to the dressing room with their heads bowed in shame while your strategy, your game, your goal is going for a toss. Or another situation, you’re on the field and all of your bowlers are being taken for a ride.
At such times, there’s no use getting angry at these players of yours. Their part in your game is over. They are out of your strategy and plan of action. The question in front of you at such times is, “What can I do now?” And not “How could these players be such big fools?” or “How could this X fool forget his basics? Is he cheating? Has he sold himself out?”
There is no use of asking the later questions. If you have an answer to the first question only then you can win the game. Because your goal is not to teach cricket to your players, your job is to use their skills to win your game; not to instill values among them.
One thing you must always remember: You can’t play without others. You’ll have to trust them but you can’t and shouldn’t depend on them. Ultimately, it’s your game, your win and your loss.
Play your game with players. Don’t let players play your game.
The Happy Prince.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Fake smiles...
She’s one of the cutest ones in my class. I’ve always wanted to be friends with her. We talk, we laugh, share messages once in a while but I’ll never say we’re friends. We’re class mates. She knows me and I know her. That is all. But I’ve always wanted to be friends with her…
Today the moment she entered the class, I knew there was something different. She wasn’t wearing her regular make up. The kajal, the lip stick and everything else she uses was all missing and yet she looked cuter than she usually did. She was happier I guess but that is just a guess and since we’re not that close, a guess is all I could do. Sometime later, her friends announced it was her birthday. We all sang and wished her.
After the classes are over I’m on my bike when I spot her walking by the road, talking to someone on her expensive Nokia N93. I pull over, hold my hand out and say, “Hey ‘X’! Happy birthday to you!”
Frankly, I can see she isn’t even interested. But she has no choice. She shakes my hand and gives a fake smile. But I like that smile. Though fake, it too is cute like her…
I like people who give fakes smiles. Particularly when those smiles are either cute, sweet or sexy. A smile says so many things. It is quite difficult to say all that animatedly and that too when you know that the person you are smiling at knows that your smile is fake. One has to be both while giving a fake smile, a good actor and above all, shameless.
Just imagine two opponent gamblers having high stakes against each other smiling. Smiling at each other while the game is just about to begin. Both know each others cards. They know the questions in each others minds and they know their answers. Yet they smile and wish best of luck to each other. They don’t ask each other any questions. They don’t say “I know your cards” to each other either. They just wish and they smile. It is a cunning smile and yet a friendly one. Their eyes say, “Just wait and watch how I slaughter you” but the muscles on the face and the lips say “May the best man win.”
Then after the game is over, after one has lost and the other one has won, they shake hands again and they smile. This is a different smile. The winner smiles thinking, “Son of a bitch! I’ve shown him his place finally. I guess I fell a little short of getting him on streets. No problem though, next time I’ll see to it that he sweeps my floor at home.” The loser smiles too. He says, “It was your day Johnny.” But he thinks, “Son of a bitch has cheated again. I must learn his trick of shuffling the cards though. He’s too good at it. I haven’t lost anything though. Just a small price for learning his tricks in the game.” And thus, they move on to meet again.
Johnny doesn’t stop either learning new tricks or cheating. Tommy doesn’t stop gambling either. No matter how badly Tommy has lost, he will play again. That’s both, his profession and passion. When he will walk on the street, people will point out and say, “Yeah! You see that loser? That is Tommy. Johnny fell short of getting him on the street the other day.”
Tommy will borrow more to gamble more, people will shoo him. Still, he will ask shamelessly. Smile at them when they abuse him. They will kick him and yet, he will smile. That will be a different smile. Foolish, sheepish. The one that says, “Yeah, say that. I’m used to that and I expect that.” Then eventually someone will lend him some money. Some day his tricks and all previous experience along with luck will favour him. He will start winning.
Then he will decide to take revenge from those who abused him. He won’t go and say that to them. One by one he will acquire their properties. Get them on streets. They will come to him and whine. They’ll ask for mercy. His eyes will say. “Oh! How I love to see you whine like that? You remember me when I used to whine like that in front of you? Who’s better at whining do you think? You or me?” but muscles on his face will just smile. His lips, if at all they say anything, they’ll say,”Oh! They did that to you? How cruel! How I wish I could help you. But I have nothing to do with this. I’m so sorry!” and he will smile.
All fake shameless smiles. Smiles that don’t mean what they say. But they are the smiles one must yearn for in life. They’re the most useful ones and they take years to cultivate. It takes defeats, wins and a lot of experience to cultivate a smile like that. So smile. Be shameless and move on.
The Happy Prince.
Today the moment she entered the class, I knew there was something different. She wasn’t wearing her regular make up. The kajal, the lip stick and everything else she uses was all missing and yet she looked cuter than she usually did. She was happier I guess but that is just a guess and since we’re not that close, a guess is all I could do. Sometime later, her friends announced it was her birthday. We all sang and wished her.
After the classes are over I’m on my bike when I spot her walking by the road, talking to someone on her expensive Nokia N93. I pull over, hold my hand out and say, “Hey ‘X’! Happy birthday to you!”
Frankly, I can see she isn’t even interested. But she has no choice. She shakes my hand and gives a fake smile. But I like that smile. Though fake, it too is cute like her…
I like people who give fakes smiles. Particularly when those smiles are either cute, sweet or sexy. A smile says so many things. It is quite difficult to say all that animatedly and that too when you know that the person you are smiling at knows that your smile is fake. One has to be both while giving a fake smile, a good actor and above all, shameless.
Just imagine two opponent gamblers having high stakes against each other smiling. Smiling at each other while the game is just about to begin. Both know each others cards. They know the questions in each others minds and they know their answers. Yet they smile and wish best of luck to each other. They don’t ask each other any questions. They don’t say “I know your cards” to each other either. They just wish and they smile. It is a cunning smile and yet a friendly one. Their eyes say, “Just wait and watch how I slaughter you” but the muscles on the face and the lips say “May the best man win.”
Then after the game is over, after one has lost and the other one has won, they shake hands again and they smile. This is a different smile. The winner smiles thinking, “Son of a bitch! I’ve shown him his place finally. I guess I fell a little short of getting him on streets. No problem though, next time I’ll see to it that he sweeps my floor at home.” The loser smiles too. He says, “It was your day Johnny.” But he thinks, “Son of a bitch has cheated again. I must learn his trick of shuffling the cards though. He’s too good at it. I haven’t lost anything though. Just a small price for learning his tricks in the game.” And thus, they move on to meet again.
Johnny doesn’t stop either learning new tricks or cheating. Tommy doesn’t stop gambling either. No matter how badly Tommy has lost, he will play again. That’s both, his profession and passion. When he will walk on the street, people will point out and say, “Yeah! You see that loser? That is Tommy. Johnny fell short of getting him on the street the other day.”
Tommy will borrow more to gamble more, people will shoo him. Still, he will ask shamelessly. Smile at them when they abuse him. They will kick him and yet, he will smile. That will be a different smile. Foolish, sheepish. The one that says, “Yeah, say that. I’m used to that and I expect that.” Then eventually someone will lend him some money. Some day his tricks and all previous experience along with luck will favour him. He will start winning.
Then he will decide to take revenge from those who abused him. He won’t go and say that to them. One by one he will acquire their properties. Get them on streets. They will come to him and whine. They’ll ask for mercy. His eyes will say. “Oh! How I love to see you whine like that? You remember me when I used to whine like that in front of you? Who’s better at whining do you think? You or me?” but muscles on his face will just smile. His lips, if at all they say anything, they’ll say,”Oh! They did that to you? How cruel! How I wish I could help you. But I have nothing to do with this. I’m so sorry!” and he will smile.
All fake shameless smiles. Smiles that don’t mean what they say. But they are the smiles one must yearn for in life. They’re the most useful ones and they take years to cultivate. It takes defeats, wins and a lot of experience to cultivate a smile like that. So smile. Be shameless and move on.
The Happy Prince.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Love
It is difficult to be complimented for your virtues in heaven or to be criticized for the lack of them in hell. That is perhaps why human beings fall for angels and angels fly away. Perhaps, they have their own angels to fall for, in their own world…
“What is love?” is an eternal question. This article is not about answering it, it is about talking about the experiences I’ve had while trying to find an answer to it. Mind well, answers to this question are subjective. This is just what I think.
Sometimes you meet someone and that someone changes you completely. They’re usually the times when you’re low about something and then that someone suddenly enters and teaches either of the two: to solve your problems if they’re soluble or to live with them cheerfully and gracefully as if they don’t exist. As if their existence doesn’t make any difference in your life. These are not people as far as you are concerned, these are angels who make your world a better place for you to live in. Their approach to life fascinates you. They don’t teach you anything you don’t know, they just remind what you’ve forgotten.
The most fascinating part about these angels is that they do all this quite casually. They’re just themselves, acting like themselves and casually, they’re making you like themselves.
But this feeling is not always reciprocated. Many times your attitude is not something that fascinates him. May be he makes your world better, but angels come from another world and you may not always have something that makes you an angel in an angel’s world. That is the reason why I find finding love is so difficult. It’s difficult to be an angel for someone who’s an angel to you.
I have discussed this topic several times with several people and particularly in detail with a dear friend who loved someone once too but before she could tell him, he once casually said “We’re so good friends, but I can never see us in that relation.” After this, she never asked. They’re still friends, he still changes her and is big contributor to the current her. But still, they’re just friends.
Then one day you start understanding it really isn’t about changing. Not all problems can be solved with one attitude of one person who fascinates you. It really isn’t about changing you. It is more about accepting you as you are. It is about being able to bear the whims and fancies of the other without asking or telling the reasons for them. It is the simplicity and the comfort in the relation. About hearing both, what is said and what is unsaid. Hearing the unsaid takes time but being comfortable and understanding the unsaid is important. It is not a sexy figure, cute looks or lot of money. They’re just three simple words “I Love you” and everything unsaid that goes with them.
The Happy Prince.
“What is love?” is an eternal question. This article is not about answering it, it is about talking about the experiences I’ve had while trying to find an answer to it. Mind well, answers to this question are subjective. This is just what I think.
Sometimes you meet someone and that someone changes you completely. They’re usually the times when you’re low about something and then that someone suddenly enters and teaches either of the two: to solve your problems if they’re soluble or to live with them cheerfully and gracefully as if they don’t exist. As if their existence doesn’t make any difference in your life. These are not people as far as you are concerned, these are angels who make your world a better place for you to live in. Their approach to life fascinates you. They don’t teach you anything you don’t know, they just remind what you’ve forgotten.
The most fascinating part about these angels is that they do all this quite casually. They’re just themselves, acting like themselves and casually, they’re making you like themselves.
But this feeling is not always reciprocated. Many times your attitude is not something that fascinates him. May be he makes your world better, but angels come from another world and you may not always have something that makes you an angel in an angel’s world. That is the reason why I find finding love is so difficult. It’s difficult to be an angel for someone who’s an angel to you.
I have discussed this topic several times with several people and particularly in detail with a dear friend who loved someone once too but before she could tell him, he once casually said “We’re so good friends, but I can never see us in that relation.” After this, she never asked. They’re still friends, he still changes her and is big contributor to the current her. But still, they’re just friends.
Then one day you start understanding it really isn’t about changing. Not all problems can be solved with one attitude of one person who fascinates you. It really isn’t about changing you. It is more about accepting you as you are. It is about being able to bear the whims and fancies of the other without asking or telling the reasons for them. It is the simplicity and the comfort in the relation. About hearing both, what is said and what is unsaid. Hearing the unsaid takes time but being comfortable and understanding the unsaid is important. It is not a sexy figure, cute looks or lot of money. They’re just three simple words “I Love you” and everything unsaid that goes with them.
The Happy Prince.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Smiles
A warm golden yellow sun quite pleasantly beaming on your eyelashes. A sweating, heavily breathing you with still enough desire and energy to live an entire day and smile on your face which is for absolutely nothing but thoughts in your own mind is the way I describe my perfect tea time evening in winter.
On two such evenings, on two such walks, two such thoughts that brought two such smiles on my face:
I.
Me, age 20, wearing a worn out, torn jeans on soft cotton crumpled white dirty shirt. Left sandal broken near the little finger, legs filthy with dirt since I have been walking without socks the entire day, a blue tattered back pack with holes on its bottom and an expensive leather wallet, almost empty.Wandering lazily, hands in pocket, eyes on the road and around, mind-- dreaming. Dreams that may or may not come true, hopes that may or may not materialize. A body that will certainly support whatever I decide to do, for a few years at least.
I don’t stay like that because I don’t have a choice. I stay like that, because I do.
On my right, an old lady is limping with a walker for support. A face freshly washed. Smells talc. Diamond necklace in her neck, pearl ear rings with a diamond in the centre. Diamond ring in a finger on hand. Expensive, pink, cotton saree freshly ironed. Smile on face but wrinkles too. Open eyes that see, but they’re deep, hollowed. They don’t know whether to dream or to hope. A life that has just gone by…
Thought that brings a smile on my face: Which of us two is richer?
II.
Taste of my 7.00 PM coffee still in my mouth. Wearing lanky shorts, slippers and a T for comfort; lazily walking on Marine Drive in Bombay.
A big business tycoon comes jogging. A body guard on each side, a white expensive imported car following him. The moment he is tired, he will just sit in the car right there and go back. His head band is Nike, other brands, too expensive for me to know. Because he is famous, I know he didn’t earn all this, he was born in it.
Someone behind me utters: “What a life! A ready made business empire, fame like that, power like that and money like that, what else is there to earn?”
I see a beggar lying on the foot path on the opposite side. He is always right there, lying in that same fashion. Filthy, worn out, ill fitting clothes, more displaying his privates that covering them, the way he lies making their sight more prominent. He doesn’t care about food etc. He doesn’t have to. Eats whatever they throw at him, drinks from whatever they donate. No dreams, no goals, nowhere to be and no where to go. Once I asked him his life story, he said he didn’t earn all that, he was born in it.
Thought that brings smile on my face: Who is poorer, the business tycoon or the beggar?
The Happy Prince.
On two such evenings, on two such walks, two such thoughts that brought two such smiles on my face:
I.
Me, age 20, wearing a worn out, torn jeans on soft cotton crumpled white dirty shirt. Left sandal broken near the little finger, legs filthy with dirt since I have been walking without socks the entire day, a blue tattered back pack with holes on its bottom and an expensive leather wallet, almost empty.Wandering lazily, hands in pocket, eyes on the road and around, mind-- dreaming. Dreams that may or may not come true, hopes that may or may not materialize. A body that will certainly support whatever I decide to do, for a few years at least.
I don’t stay like that because I don’t have a choice. I stay like that, because I do.
On my right, an old lady is limping with a walker for support. A face freshly washed. Smells talc. Diamond necklace in her neck, pearl ear rings with a diamond in the centre. Diamond ring in a finger on hand. Expensive, pink, cotton saree freshly ironed. Smile on face but wrinkles too. Open eyes that see, but they’re deep, hollowed. They don’t know whether to dream or to hope. A life that has just gone by…
Thought that brings a smile on my face: Which of us two is richer?
II.
Taste of my 7.00 PM coffee still in my mouth. Wearing lanky shorts, slippers and a T for comfort; lazily walking on Marine Drive in Bombay.
A big business tycoon comes jogging. A body guard on each side, a white expensive imported car following him. The moment he is tired, he will just sit in the car right there and go back. His head band is Nike, other brands, too expensive for me to know. Because he is famous, I know he didn’t earn all this, he was born in it.
Someone behind me utters: “What a life! A ready made business empire, fame like that, power like that and money like that, what else is there to earn?”
I see a beggar lying on the foot path on the opposite side. He is always right there, lying in that same fashion. Filthy, worn out, ill fitting clothes, more displaying his privates that covering them, the way he lies making their sight more prominent. He doesn’t care about food etc. He doesn’t have to. Eats whatever they throw at him, drinks from whatever they donate. No dreams, no goals, nowhere to be and no where to go. Once I asked him his life story, he said he didn’t earn all that, he was born in it.
Thought that brings smile on my face: Who is poorer, the business tycoon or the beggar?
The Happy Prince.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
You
Question: Whom does a piece of art belong to? The creator or the person who admires the creation the most because he relates to it the most? If your answer to the second question is the latter, then I believe I have the right to put this up here. If your answer is the former, I've given the credits to the due person.
I often wonder how much you know about yourself। Whether you know what your eyes look like when you smile, the way you tilt your head when you laugh, the way you play with your hair when you get real nervous, how beautiful you look when you are angry। Sometimes I think you do, sometimes I think you haven’t the slightest idea. In my mind you shall forever be the mysterious, the tempting unknown.
You would sit in the front row of the class, hanging on to every word. Your forehead would be creased with attention, as you strived to understand those rambling Profs. I would sleep through most of the classes, waking up now and then to try and steal another glimpse of you. Oh how obvious I must have been, craning my neck here and there, for a glimpse of that face, that dimpled smile. The world for a chance to be next to you.
How often I would meticulously plan out our conversations; Conversations that, for some reason or the other, never materialized। Every possible topic would be covered, even the unpredictability which makes the fairer sex so appealing; Appealing and at times immensely frustrating। These conversations would be near perfect; you would be charmed by my wit and awed by my intelligence. We would walk out towards the sunset, hands held tight. Live happily ever after and all that.
Coming back to those meticulously crafted plans; well they never did see light of day. The courage to talk was never summoned. Reduced to a particularly quiet piece of stone, I refused to grab the opportunities, which would be offered to me once in a while. As the semester proceeded, I truly began to believe that somehow the courage-gene managed to skip my particular pool.
The blame however, cannot be solely placed on me. You see one of the crucial requirements for the plan to succeed was finding you alone. Your charm ensured that friends always surrounded you. Your friends. Not mine. They would tear me apart were I to come within speaking distance of you. “Who is that loser talking to our dear angel? Bad influence he will be. I heard the other day that he’s an alcoholic as well. Chee chee….”
Oh yes, I was quite sure of that. Deceptively gentle in their appearance, the wolves provided irrefutable proof to that saying about women’s fury. Pack of wolves, that’s what they were, baring their teeth at the slightest occasion. And even if I managed to avoid the wolves, what excuse could I possibly have to speak to you? What could I say?
You smiled at my obvious nervousness. You knew that the upcoming exams were just an excuse I used to talk to you. You answered my rather vague questions on the ethics of family law, well aware that I had no interest in either (family law or ethics). “Ah yes the pressing need of a uniform civil code. But there are so many complexities involved…”You waited patiently, your dark eyes pulling me in. I never did stand much of a chance against those eyes.
I tell you all I have to tell, a stream of rushed words. You look a little surprised (pleasantly so?) The question has been asked. “Would you?” I asked, knowing that I would only breathe once you had answered. You continued to hold the question in the air, stretching those instants to the length of generations. I began to look a bit like a fool, watching expectantly for a reply.
Complete silence for a minute, a minute that seems to drag on longer than one of the class lectures. And then you smile. Is it possible? Will I start believing in the one above all ever again? Shall life start working with me for once? You say nothing at all but your eyes seem to say so much. I still remember the way you smelt that day, gentle and warm. Tinged with a bit of icy mint.
“No” you said, a smile creeping across your face। You felt that sudden rush you always got at times like these। You watched as my face crumpled, as I tried to hide my thoughts behind a weak smile। And then you slowly walk away, but not before you got a good look at my crestfallen face.
And as you walk away, completely aware that I am watching your every move, you hum just loud enough for me to hear “In this game of trust and lust… another one bites the dust।”
Anuj Agrawal [4th year, nujs]
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Audi
We’ve a small road that connects the campus of our college with the main road. This is not the official road; it is rather a small by lane many college students use as a hide out cum hang out for extra curricular activities like smoking and smooching. I use this road normally when I’ve to photo copy papers, visit the internet café or make an STD telephone call. At one end of this lane is an imperial building facing the main road. It serves as an office to some well to do business man. Every time I pass from there I see one of dream cars. It’s a black Audi. Its number plate declares that the business man is very rich indeed as its number is 1-2-3-4. A number RTO in India charges a bomb for.
Exactly opposite this lane is our hang out called Sharvaree. It’s the place we have our breakfast, lunch and tea at.
The other day I was just coming out of Sharvaree when I noticed a huge crowd gathered on the main road. The black Audi stood in the centre as a diagonal to the road. A tempo stood near by. Its nose kissing the butt of Audi. There were two voices. One raised, angry and clear. The other blurred and distant as it was coming from inside the tempo. The first one was of a man in extremely good clothes. He was wearing a beautiful sky blue shirt. Black shining trousers. Polished leather shoes. An expensive cell phone was peeping out of its holder on the waist. The language being used wasn’t what any one would call the best though. Unprintable words were being shouted by him. One of his hands was busy pulling the tempo driver to the window. The other hand had taken the hammer position and it was being used to hit on the driver’s head.
The tempo driver was pulling himself away from the hand turned into hammer and pleading to be left alone before they could talk the matter out. Police arrived and separated them. The man sat back in the Audi and drove it straight to where I was standing. Curiosity got the better of me and I inspected the car as he parked it on my left before leaving to talk to the police. All the car had was a 2 inch minute scratch on the back bumper.
There’s a small colony of backward castes near my old house. Once as my ride was passing through that area my cell phone rang. I pulled the bike over and answered the phone. As I finished my call I saw a man turning right without indicating it in anyway. He did not put his hand out or put his indicator on. The rider behind him had already made a decision to over take him long back and as the first man turned right the rider ran straight into him. His mud guard cracked into pieces. As he skidded to the ground further his head light had scratches. When he got back on his feet and both of them had pulled over, the first one expecting a heated argument. He was right. The second rider was really angry. He looked the first rider in the eye and said “It was because you didn’t indicate you were going to turn that we both fell, my mud guard broke and headlight was scratched.” The second one, naturally, wanted to rebel. He said, “Yeah, yeah! So how much money do you want? How much will repairing that cost anyway?” On this the second rider showed disgust on his face and said this, “Just make sure you don’t ride like this from now on. That’s all I want!” No base words spoken, no money asked! This man was a mere milk man and his bike was just an M 80.
I have just one question: Who do you think is richer between the milkman and the man with that dream Audi?
The Happy Prince.
Exactly opposite this lane is our hang out called Sharvaree. It’s the place we have our breakfast, lunch and tea at.
The other day I was just coming out of Sharvaree when I noticed a huge crowd gathered on the main road. The black Audi stood in the centre as a diagonal to the road. A tempo stood near by. Its nose kissing the butt of Audi. There were two voices. One raised, angry and clear. The other blurred and distant as it was coming from inside the tempo. The first one was of a man in extremely good clothes. He was wearing a beautiful sky blue shirt. Black shining trousers. Polished leather shoes. An expensive cell phone was peeping out of its holder on the waist. The language being used wasn’t what any one would call the best though. Unprintable words were being shouted by him. One of his hands was busy pulling the tempo driver to the window. The other hand had taken the hammer position and it was being used to hit on the driver’s head.
The tempo driver was pulling himself away from the hand turned into hammer and pleading to be left alone before they could talk the matter out. Police arrived and separated them. The man sat back in the Audi and drove it straight to where I was standing. Curiosity got the better of me and I inspected the car as he parked it on my left before leaving to talk to the police. All the car had was a 2 inch minute scratch on the back bumper.
There’s a small colony of backward castes near my old house. Once as my ride was passing through that area my cell phone rang. I pulled the bike over and answered the phone. As I finished my call I saw a man turning right without indicating it in anyway. He did not put his hand out or put his indicator on. The rider behind him had already made a decision to over take him long back and as the first man turned right the rider ran straight into him. His mud guard cracked into pieces. As he skidded to the ground further his head light had scratches. When he got back on his feet and both of them had pulled over, the first one expecting a heated argument. He was right. The second rider was really angry. He looked the first rider in the eye and said “It was because you didn’t indicate you were going to turn that we both fell, my mud guard broke and headlight was scratched.” The second one, naturally, wanted to rebel. He said, “Yeah, yeah! So how much money do you want? How much will repairing that cost anyway?” On this the second rider showed disgust on his face and said this, “Just make sure you don’t ride like this from now on. That’s all I want!” No base words spoken, no money asked! This man was a mere milk man and his bike was just an M 80.
I have just one question: Who do you think is richer between the milkman and the man with that dream Audi?
The Happy Prince.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Importance...
We're on our bus back to the hostel after having done well at a Law Fest. I'm very happy happy with my performance before a lightening strikes. The lightening tells me the girl I've loved for the last three years has committed to someone else.
The first thought that comes to my mind?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had expected myself to go hyper. To pull my hair out, to cry or to do something stupid. Instead, I just breath easy and for some reason my body starts sweating. Calm and composed for others, I just close my eyes and wait for us to reach the hostel. On reaching the hostel all I badly need is a strong cup of coffee. I tell my team mates I am going out for one. I have one and return home to concentrate on the finals on the next day. Nothing bothers me at all.
I don't know how I soaked such a huge shock in so easily. I had dreamed of her. I have loved her. Still do. I could have done anything for her in the madness of my love. As a person and a friend she had inspired me, changed me and changed me so much! Changing for her had never been a question. I could have changed anything if she'd wanted me to. How could I take such a shock in so easily?
It wasn't even that I had not told her about my feelings for her. I had on several occassions in several different ways and her answer had always been "Wait. We're too young still" and waiting I was.
Just watched this movie called "Dil Dosti etc." A character called Sanjay Mishra and his girlfriend (Forgot her name!) are madly in love before she betrays him. He can't believe the fact that she has betrayed and ultimately kills himself. Worst is the fact that he catches her red handed with one of his best friends. He dies and lives of both, his girlfriend and his friend just move on.
Once I had lost so many competitions so badly. Today I find myself on the verge of winning but there's so much difference in the way I wait for results. Earlier I wanted to WIN! and after putting in so many efforts I just couldnt take in that there could be any other result. Today when I'm waiting for results, frankly, I just dont care. The attitude is "I have done what I could. Have learnt alot in doing it, have enjoyed doing it so much. Anything else hardly matters."
The point I'm trying to make is just this. Sometimes we give too much importance to too many trifles in our lives. Trifles we could have done without, trifles we can do without. So whether she says a yes or no next time you ask her, whether you win or lose a competition after putting in nights of oil or whether the person you love the most dies, it's just a trifle we've been giving too much importance to. Do what you can do when you can do it and leave the rest upto Him because nothing is as important as you think it is.
The Happy Prince.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Will the Golden Days never return?
Or Will the returned days never be Golden?
Does Gold change with days?
Or do days change with Gold?
Emotions change and so do relations,
But does Gold change with seasons?
Year passes when a season returns
Why dont men wait then, till emotions reutrn?
I want to cry today, my heart has broken.
Why can't she even lend a hand? Just as a token?
Still love her for the pain she has given...
So what if i'm not there, I can at least dream of my heaven
She made me believe dreams come true...
I say "I believe it dear coz i still believe in you."
The Happy Prince
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Gambler…
The very word 'Gambler' has so much of a negative connotation to it. He's a negative person in every way no matter what he gambles with or for. But I'm particularly interested in card gamblers. Look at the way the play their games.
First they let people know that they gamble but they never tell them their tricks of winning the games. They never show people their cards and they always guess, mostly on logic, what the cards of the opponent might be. Every time they're betting on winning.
I just have one question. What's the difference between a person who really wants to win and the gambler I described above?
Hardly any.
The Happy Prince
First they let people know that they gamble but they never tell them their tricks of winning the games. They never show people their cards and they always guess, mostly on logic, what the cards of the opponent might be. Every time they're betting on winning.
I just have one question. What's the difference between a person who really wants to win and the gambler I described above?
Hardly any.
The Happy Prince
Nostalgia
An innocent running stream of fresh cold water,
The first silky ray of the tender morning sun,
Deep green waters of solitary seas,
The only line of golden lights shining in a dark cold night,
The sole long shadow that witnesses the orange setting sun,
The fallen eyelash of the most treasured eye,
The tears of sheer happiness after the much desired achievement
And a hand that runs through your hair caring the most….
Are all forms of a never ending and ever desired…nostalgia!
The Happy Prince
Think...
We’re all on a run, but for a moment wait!
Just think of your fate
Who are we? Where is our compound?
Where is our gate?
Where do we start?
Where do we end?
What do we borrow?
What can we lend?
We’re on a road
But where does it lead?
We hear many voices
But whom do we heed?
We have empty hands
But we have open minds
We’re young, we’re fast
We come in all kinds
Am I all alone?
Or am I amongst the gifted few?
Do I belong to a crowd?
Or am I unique like all of you?
We have our flaws
And we have our qualities
But trust me, we’re all equal
When it comes to life’s realities
If not now then when?
If not now then it wont be late then?
Think! Think! Think! This is the time
Years will pass just in a blink…
The Happy Prince
Just think of your fate
Who are we? Where is our compound?
Where is our gate?
Where do we start?
Where do we end?
What do we borrow?
What can we lend?
We’re on a road
But where does it lead?
We hear many voices
But whom do we heed?
We have empty hands
But we have open minds
We’re young, we’re fast
We come in all kinds
Am I all alone?
Or am I amongst the gifted few?
Do I belong to a crowd?
Or am I unique like all of you?
We have our flaws
And we have our qualities
But trust me, we’re all equal
When it comes to life’s realities
If not now then when?
If not now then it wont be late then?
Think! Think! Think! This is the time
Years will pass just in a blink…
The Happy Prince
People Only Decide...
He won all the races
And he had all the aces
Wherever he went
He won! Won! Won!
There was no doubt
He was One! One! One!
And when the final moment came
Something went wrong
He started all right
But he lost by long
What happened did happen
And he cannot ask why
What happened did happen
He cannot sit and cry
What happened did happen
He has to accept it
What happened did happen
He must not forget it
What happened did happen
From it he must learn
He must start all over
And what he lost he must yearn
Its true life’s unfair
And justice is in books
There are honest people
And there exist crooks
And one doesn’t always eat
Whatever he cooks
Is true life’s unfair
And justice is in books
Man only endeavors
Its god who delivers
Man appoints people, calls ‘em judges
And sets ‘em god beside
God does justice, people only decide…
And he had all the aces
Wherever he went
He won! Won! Won!
There was no doubt
He was One! One! One!
And when the final moment came
Something went wrong
He started all right
But he lost by long
What happened did happen
And he cannot ask why
What happened did happen
He cannot sit and cry
What happened did happen
He has to accept it
What happened did happen
He must not forget it
What happened did happen
From it he must learn
He must start all over
And what he lost he must yearn
Its true life’s unfair
And justice is in books
There are honest people
And there exist crooks
And one doesn’t always eat
Whatever he cooks
Is true life’s unfair
And justice is in books
Man only endeavors
Its god who delivers
Man appoints people, calls ‘em judges
And sets ‘em god beside
God does justice, people only decide…
The Happy Prince
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Misunderstanding...
Let’s take a situation. He is an average Indian husband and she, an average Indian wife. He comes home from work. Tired. She’s come just before him and has changed into easy casuals one usually wears at home. They’ve a kid. It has just started walking. It walks but falls very often. It has just fallen and she’s just nursed him. It took her about half an hour to do that. She’s tired too, still she asks him for tea. He says he wants it. Then she cooks for him and asks about dinner. He says he’ll have it at home. She cooks a full meal too. Now she’s exhausted.
Earlier in the morning they’d decided to drive about 200 kms to her friend’s wedding. It is supposed to happen the next day. He had asked her to be ready when he came. She was. But when she saw her husband’s state of energy she decided not to remind him of it. However, he still remembers because he’s fond of driving and they have just bought a new car.
He asks “When’re we leaving?” She says we’ll leave soon and gets busy with the kid, utensils and the kitchen while he prods through the maze of TV channels. An hour later he asks “Are we leaving or not?” she says “Its not necessary that we go.” She’s just concerned. Her husband is tired.
Sometime later he asks her again “Do you want to go or not?” Again she says “Its not necessary that we go.” That’s not the questions says he. “Do you want to or not?” Again replies she “Its not necessary…”
Then they have a fight. He didn’t understand she was only caring for him. She didn’t understand he only wanted an answer. A “Yes” or a “No”
He didn’t understand she is tired too, she didn’t understand her husband loves driving. He wouldn’t want to miss a chance.
What do you think would have happened if this had been the case:
He comes home from work. Tired. She asks him for tea. He says he wants it. She cooks it for him. She asks whether he wants to dine at home. He gets up from infront of the TV and helps her around in the kitchen. They dine together. Clean together. Then he asks her about the trip. She says she wants to go if he's not tired. They go for the drive.
OR
She says "I'm tired too, let's not go." And they don't go for the drive.
No arguments. No loud voices. A simple regular conversation.
Most problems are mere misunderstandings. A little obervance and empathy is all that is needed.
The Happy Prince...
TH Prince
Earlier in the morning they’d decided to drive about 200 kms to her friend’s wedding. It is supposed to happen the next day. He had asked her to be ready when he came. She was. But when she saw her husband’s state of energy she decided not to remind him of it. However, he still remembers because he’s fond of driving and they have just bought a new car.
He asks “When’re we leaving?” She says we’ll leave soon and gets busy with the kid, utensils and the kitchen while he prods through the maze of TV channels. An hour later he asks “Are we leaving or not?” she says “Its not necessary that we go.” She’s just concerned. Her husband is tired.
Sometime later he asks her again “Do you want to go or not?” Again she says “Its not necessary that we go.” That’s not the questions says he. “Do you want to or not?” Again replies she “Its not necessary…”
Then they have a fight. He didn’t understand she was only caring for him. She didn’t understand he only wanted an answer. A “Yes” or a “No”
He didn’t understand she is tired too, she didn’t understand her husband loves driving. He wouldn’t want to miss a chance.
What do you think would have happened if this had been the case:
He comes home from work. Tired. She asks him for tea. He says he wants it. She cooks it for him. She asks whether he wants to dine at home. He gets up from infront of the TV and helps her around in the kitchen. They dine together. Clean together. Then he asks her about the trip. She says she wants to go if he's not tired. They go for the drive.
OR
She says "I'm tired too, let's not go." And they don't go for the drive.
No arguments. No loud voices. A simple regular conversation.
Most problems are mere misunderstandings. A little obervance and empathy is all that is needed.
The Happy Prince...
TH Prince
Relationships...
“When you know you’ll always have me on your side how does it matter what we call our relationship? I can’t tell you I feel “this” about you, but yes, you mean a lot to me.
It’s the relationship that matters Prince, not the name we give to it.”
Reads a line in one of my very close friend’s email. The mail is about 2 yrs old now. I have still kept it in my inbox. At the time I received it I did not have the maturity either to gauge or even to understand its meaning. Today I know what she meant.
I watched the movie Just Married only because I wanted to watch a movie after my exams and Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd just because I wanted to know how the Showcase feature of my new Tata Sky connection at home worked. Judging them by their entertainment value or presentation nothing could have been worse but they taught me something.
Both movies show married couples. They’re husbands and wives to their spouses. A relation that has been defined by the society. I don’t have to explain anything to anyone when I say “This is my wife/husband.” They nod as if they understand it. But do they? I don’t have to explain anything when I say “This is my friend.” But what is friendship? And who decided on the definition if anyone did?
Both movies show married couples but they have so many different relations amongst them. Fardeen Khan and Esha Deol for example play married strangers, Rahul Deol and his co-star play friends who have sex. Boman Irani and Shabana Azmi play friends who don’t have sex but just enjoy being together at 60. Kay Kay Menon and Raima Sen play a conservative husband and a modern wife and yet they understand each other. They disagree but get along amazingly well.
All along I’ve troubled my above friend asking her “What is friendship?” One fine day she got fed up of me and stopped replying. Then I checked several dictionaries. All dictionaries defined “friend” like “A person you know and like.” Or “A person you have common interests with.” Yes, I know my friend and because she’s my best friend it’s obvious I like her a lot, we have common interests too but I have all these with so many other people. I certainly don’t have the same relation with them for sure!
Surely, what’s in the name? Its the relationship that matters!!
It’s the relationship that matters Prince, not the name we give to it.”
Reads a line in one of my very close friend’s email. The mail is about 2 yrs old now. I have still kept it in my inbox. At the time I received it I did not have the maturity either to gauge or even to understand its meaning. Today I know what she meant.
I watched the movie Just Married only because I wanted to watch a movie after my exams and Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd just because I wanted to know how the Showcase feature of my new Tata Sky connection at home worked. Judging them by their entertainment value or presentation nothing could have been worse but they taught me something.
Both movies show married couples. They’re husbands and wives to their spouses. A relation that has been defined by the society. I don’t have to explain anything to anyone when I say “This is my wife/husband.” They nod as if they understand it. But do they? I don’t have to explain anything when I say “This is my friend.” But what is friendship? And who decided on the definition if anyone did?
Both movies show married couples but they have so many different relations amongst them. Fardeen Khan and Esha Deol for example play married strangers, Rahul Deol and his co-star play friends who have sex. Boman Irani and Shabana Azmi play friends who don’t have sex but just enjoy being together at 60. Kay Kay Menon and Raima Sen play a conservative husband and a modern wife and yet they understand each other. They disagree but get along amazingly well.
All along I’ve troubled my above friend asking her “What is friendship?” One fine day she got fed up of me and stopped replying. Then I checked several dictionaries. All dictionaries defined “friend” like “A person you know and like.” Or “A person you have common interests with.” Yes, I know my friend and because she’s my best friend it’s obvious I like her a lot, we have common interests too but I have all these with so many other people. I certainly don’t have the same relation with them for sure!
Surely, what’s in the name? Its the relationship that matters!!
Friday, July 13, 2007
"Winning..."
Like all other kids he played "underarm" cricket with tennis balls in the lanes of Bombay. Like all other kids he was average at studies. Hardly ever did he cross seventy percent in his exams. Then one day his elder brother asked him, "Would you like to play cricket for a living?" He was only 13 then. Hardly did he know what he was doing. His brother was good cricketeer but had bad health. So "Brother knows the best" he thought and answered a "Yes."
So the next day he started his formal cricket coahing. He was the worst batsman in their class for the first 2 weeks. His coach called his brother and told him that the boy had no future in cricket. "No!" Protested his brother. "I've seen him playing and I know this is not the way he usually plays. Give him time sir. Please."
There was no improvement in the third week too. Finally the brother went to the boy and told him. "Are you sure this is what you want to do all your life?" This time the boy thought for a night. The next day he said "Yes, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life."
After that he worked hard. Day and night. He worked upto 16 hours a day. He never won a single best batsman award for the first year. In the second year he showed some promises. In the third he expected some of the biggest awards as the best batsman but managed to get only the trifle ones. He never got any of the bigger ones.
Then one day he was picked up in the Indian Cricket Team. He became the youngest player ever to be picked up. He was very average for the first few games. But he went on facing 6 ft dark monsters of West Indies and White monsters of Austrailia with his frail figure.
Its been 18 years since then. Today he holds the following records:
1. Maximum number of centuries
2. Maximum number of runs
3. Maximum number of "Man of the Match" awards
4. Youngest Captain ever
5. Played the highest number of matches.
He's still there. Fit and Fine. I don't have to tell you he is Sachin Tendulkar.
Imagine what would have happened if he'd given up in the first week? First month? Or when inspite of deserving didnt get any of the bigger awards?
He'd never have won the highest honor for a sportsman in India. The Arjuna Award. He'd never be the best batsman ever. He'd never be Sachin Tendulkar.
Winning is not about "Today" or "Now." Winning is long term. Winning is not about a competition. Winning is about an entire life. Winning is not being "better than others." Winning is about being at "your best."
Win!
The Happy Prince
So the next day he started his formal cricket coahing. He was the worst batsman in their class for the first 2 weeks. His coach called his brother and told him that the boy had no future in cricket. "No!" Protested his brother. "I've seen him playing and I know this is not the way he usually plays. Give him time sir. Please."
There was no improvement in the third week too. Finally the brother went to the boy and told him. "Are you sure this is what you want to do all your life?" This time the boy thought for a night. The next day he said "Yes, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life."
After that he worked hard. Day and night. He worked upto 16 hours a day. He never won a single best batsman award for the first year. In the second year he showed some promises. In the third he expected some of the biggest awards as the best batsman but managed to get only the trifle ones. He never got any of the bigger ones.
Then one day he was picked up in the Indian Cricket Team. He became the youngest player ever to be picked up. He was very average for the first few games. But he went on facing 6 ft dark monsters of West Indies and White monsters of Austrailia with his frail figure.
Its been 18 years since then. Today he holds the following records:
1. Maximum number of centuries
2. Maximum number of runs
3. Maximum number of "Man of the Match" awards
4. Youngest Captain ever
5. Played the highest number of matches.
He's still there. Fit and Fine. I don't have to tell you he is Sachin Tendulkar.
Imagine what would have happened if he'd given up in the first week? First month? Or when inspite of deserving didnt get any of the bigger awards?
He'd never have won the highest honor for a sportsman in India. The Arjuna Award. He'd never be the best batsman ever. He'd never be Sachin Tendulkar.
Winning is not about "Today" or "Now." Winning is long term. Winning is not about a competition. Winning is about an entire life. Winning is not being "better than others." Winning is about being at "your best."
Win!
The Happy Prince
Monday, May 28, 2007
Understanding...
The approximate depth of Mariana Trench is about 10.7 kms. It is supposedly the deepest point on earth known to man.
Now, imagine being at its bottom. Just imagine staring at the surface of water from 10.7 kms deep down. I imagine you will need lights down there, to look around you, to really know at how creepy a place you really are. Then there’ll be weird creatures all around you. Unless you’ve checked some of the best encyclopedias around you wouldn’t know which of the ones a poisonous or dangerous. Which of them can be ignored, befriended or avoided. Then there’ll be really tight clothes to keep your veins from narrowing down to increase blood pressure. Finally, two huge and heavy oxygen cylinders on your back with a tight water proof mask to cover your nose and mouth. Around you, you’ll see the bed of the sea. Filled with rocks, shells and silence. You look up from there at the ceiling. It’ll be so dark you might not see the surface of the sea at all.
Now does my second paragraph have the same effect upon you as the first line this piece starts with? I tell you in my first line that the depth is 10.7 kms. So you know just how deep the trench is. In my second paragraph I describe just how it might be feel to be there. This is precisely the difference between knowing something and understanding it.
I’d often heard the clichéd expression “Actions speak louder than words.” And trust me I knew its meaning. But as I said there is a huge difference between knowing the meaning of and understanding the meaning of. Certain experiences last year have just made understand the various meaning that one sentence may have.
I would've written a lot lot more and yes, you've guessed it right, I will not! Why? Because Actions speak louder than words.... Hehe...
Prince...
Now, imagine being at its bottom. Just imagine staring at the surface of water from 10.7 kms deep down. I imagine you will need lights down there, to look around you, to really know at how creepy a place you really are. Then there’ll be weird creatures all around you. Unless you’ve checked some of the best encyclopedias around you wouldn’t know which of the ones a poisonous or dangerous. Which of them can be ignored, befriended or avoided. Then there’ll be really tight clothes to keep your veins from narrowing down to increase blood pressure. Finally, two huge and heavy oxygen cylinders on your back with a tight water proof mask to cover your nose and mouth. Around you, you’ll see the bed of the sea. Filled with rocks, shells and silence. You look up from there at the ceiling. It’ll be so dark you might not see the surface of the sea at all.
Now does my second paragraph have the same effect upon you as the first line this piece starts with? I tell you in my first line that the depth is 10.7 kms. So you know just how deep the trench is. In my second paragraph I describe just how it might be feel to be there. This is precisely the difference between knowing something and understanding it.
I’d often heard the clichéd expression “Actions speak louder than words.” And trust me I knew its meaning. But as I said there is a huge difference between knowing the meaning of and understanding the meaning of. Certain experiences last year have just made understand the various meaning that one sentence may have.
I would've written a lot lot more and yes, you've guessed it right, I will not! Why? Because Actions speak louder than words.... Hehe...
Prince...
Sunday, May 13, 2007
A Winner's Life
Disclaimer: I wouldn't really call this "Winner's Life" but well, I have to call it something. I found this written at the back of my old diary. I don't remember when I've written it, probably sometime last year. It has no date. But whatever it is, I still believe in it.
Sometimes some things are not good merely because better things exist. Such is the case of life and death. Millions of people die every year, thousands every day, but we hear of those who die a more dignified death than others. But does that mean that those we did not hear of died a bad death?No! It only means those who we did hear of died a better death.
Life as we all see it, isn't about living. It is about dying.Yes, dying.
Its like studying for your exams. You have to prepare for it every day. Some study more, some study less. But ultimately its the result that matters. Examiners dont care how you studied or whether you did at all. All thy care about is whether your answers to their questions are satisfactory. However, to do well, you need to work every single day.
Thats true with life too. YOU NEED TO LIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY to die a dignified death.
So Prince, did you LIVE today?
Prince...
Sometimes some things are not good merely because better things exist. Such is the case of life and death. Millions of people die every year, thousands every day, but we hear of those who die a more dignified death than others. But does that mean that those we did not hear of died a bad death?No! It only means those who we did hear of died a better death.
Life as we all see it, isn't about living. It is about dying.Yes, dying.
Its like studying for your exams. You have to prepare for it every day. Some study more, some study less. But ultimately its the result that matters. Examiners dont care how you studied or whether you did at all. All thy care about is whether your answers to their questions are satisfactory. However, to do well, you need to work every single day.
Thats true with life too. YOU NEED TO LIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY to die a dignified death.
So Prince, did you LIVE today?
Prince...
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Which Hills?
Which Hills?
Paying prices
Buying things
Dreaming castles
Building wings
Aiming victories
Watching rings
Knocked out many times
Now…Waiting
Lots of flowers
Lot of rain
Not the time to smell them
Not the time to drain
Roller coaster is rolling
I can’t see the coast
All the winds are blowing
I can’t sail the boat
The captains keep changing
And I don’t know whom to follow
I wonder what to do
My talents all lie fallow
I’ve paid a heavy price
And bought the best of skills
I don’t know how to use them
I am to climb which hills?
Buying things
Dreaming castles
Building wings
Aiming victories
Watching rings
Knocked out many times
Now…Waiting
Lots of flowers
Lot of rain
Not the time to smell them
Not the time to drain
Roller coaster is rolling
I can’t see the coast
All the winds are blowing
I can’t sail the boat
The captains keep changing
And I don’t know whom to follow
I wonder what to do
My talents all lie fallow
I’ve paid a heavy price
And bought the best of skills
I don’t know how to use them
I am to climb which hills?
Child Marriage
CHILD MARRIAGE
They discussed her marriage without her consent
And she was red with rage as she heard them talk
“Rs. 20,000’s the dowry” said the father in law (to be)
“Start paying in installments now”
And she clenched her fists and punched the mattress under her
“Don’t send her to school now
Or else she won’t milk my cows!”
As she cried for her mother aloud
“Here’s my son and he won’t drink like me!
But who knows if someday he does?”
She was kicking in the air by now!
“And for my wife a sari in silk”
“Yes, yes!” said her father; ”I’ll give you all that and a little more”
“But pray keep her, please don’t sore!”
And they made her deal in money, gold and silk
As she cried for little milk…
They discussed her marriage without her consent
And she was red with rage as she heard them talk
“Rs. 20,000’s the dowry” said the father in law (to be)
“Start paying in installments now”
And she clenched her fists and punched the mattress under her
“Don’t send her to school now
Or else she won’t milk my cows!”
As she cried for her mother aloud
“Here’s my son and he won’t drink like me!
But who knows if someday he does?”
She was kicking in the air by now!
“And for my wife a sari in silk”
“Yes, yes!” said her father; ”I’ll give you all that and a little more”
“But pray keep her, please don’t sore!”
And they made her deal in money, gold and silk
As she cried for little milk…
Women Of India
WOMEN OF INDIA
In India
Scarce they are
Like the drops of rain
But regular
Like the barren lands in winter
Nipped in bud
Before they sprout
Tested, Wasted, Molested
But allowed to grow
Uprooted from life
As saplings
And axed at roots
When Kalpavrikshas
Living like the barren lands
They learn to drink the drops
…….their tears
In India
Scarce they are
Like the drops of rain
But regular
Like the barren lands in winter
Nipped in bud
Before they sprout
Tested, Wasted, Molested
But allowed to grow
Uprooted from life
As saplings
And axed at roots
When Kalpavrikshas
Living like the barren lands
They learn to drink the drops
…….their tears
Saturday, April 07, 2007
A century in 100 kms...
No, I’ve never been to the USA but I have cousin who’s been there for over 4 years. He returned 2 years ago and he still keeps on visiting it quite often. He’s a successful young man as far as my family is concerned. He’s been projected to us, youngsters, as a role model and so every word that falls from his mouth is to be heard with the due respect.
We, he and I, quite often go on a stroll here and there. Few days ago we were visiting a newly constructed mall somewhere when he remarked “oh…cool…” just as he entered. I asked him what happened and he replied saying “so now we have malls as big as the average size that of the USA.”
Trust me, though I’m a diehard Puneite, malls neither make me proud nor angry with all their splurge of resources. I’m just indifferent to their very existence. Had they not been there, I’d still have loved Pune as much as I do.
Few days later I was visiting Koregaon, my native place, about 18kms south of Satara. We started from Bombay, speeding in an air conditioned car on the expressway, talking to my dad of the booming Indian economy. On the way we stopped at Pune as some of us had some shopping to do. We parked in the underground parking of a mall. It was amazing; easy to drive down there, lot of space, very disciplined and safe. Just as they show in all those Hollywood flicks.
After all was done, we hit the road again. This Pune-Satara is a segment of the Golden Quadrilateral Project our government’s been up to. It too is just amazing. We could sail there at about 120kph. I was reading a news paper article about the coming boom in telecom sector…
My friend Vinnie called me up while I was at Koregaon; busy with my cousin’s friends. Vinnie’s dad is a Kannadiga, her mom a Konkani. Though she’s been born and brought up in Pune and understands marathi, like many of us, she isn’t very comfortable with it. We usually talk in English.
I was on phone with her for about 25 minutes I guess and as I ended the call I noticed motley of about 40-45 people surrounding me. I thought I’d done something offensive. I looked at them confused when a child suddenly remarked addressing my sister sitting just across “Tumchya varad dadala sagla english yeta?” Meaning “Does your Varad dada know entire english?” There was a look of shock on his face. Fear, surprise. Varad dada who’d been so close to these kids just 25 minutes before was now alien.
As if this wasn’t enough my aunt who’d been witnessing our conversation, mine and Vinnie’s, remarked “Does your friend have a free phone?” I didn’t get her at all. Again the same look, confused. “You were on phone for 30 minutes! How can anyone afford that? Besides you weren’t talking anything important, I haven’t seen a “How are you today?” call going this long!”
I cant tell you how I handled these situations. Had I been home, my mom would have shouted for “wasting time on the phone” probably after like 40 minutes, but 25 minutes only?
My uncle there is considered King of the stock market. He invests moderate amounts and gets back good dividends on his stocks. I was discussing with him the concept of “Free phone”, the one that involves listening to ads for a few seconds before calling and he seemed completely ignorant of it. Where did you read it, he asked me. Times of India and Economic Times, I replied. He said they don’t get those papers there.
Later my dad introduced me to his friend’s son. He’s doing law. First year, ILS Pune. At first I was happy I’d finally found someone my age. We went to the computer in my uncle’s bedroom to pass some time. I found he couldn’t really use the comp because he didn’t understand English. I thought it was okay. But some time later, as I referred to some site in the course of conversation, he asked me “What is internet?”
I was shocked.
This moment the only line I can think of is:
“Different parts of India live in different centuries.”—N.A. Palkhiwala in We, The People
Today, sitting here, typing this on my PC, I realize how privileged I am to think “How do I improve my French?” or “Which is the cheapest plan for my cell phone?” or “How do I reduce my net addiction?” while a town just 120 kms away is still figuring out the century it is living in.
However the most important question I want to ask here is, which is that booming economy we’re talking of and in which India is it? In which century is she living?
The Happy Prince...
We, he and I, quite often go on a stroll here and there. Few days ago we were visiting a newly constructed mall somewhere when he remarked “oh…cool…” just as he entered. I asked him what happened and he replied saying “so now we have malls as big as the average size that of the USA.”
Trust me, though I’m a diehard Puneite, malls neither make me proud nor angry with all their splurge of resources. I’m just indifferent to their very existence. Had they not been there, I’d still have loved Pune as much as I do.
Few days later I was visiting Koregaon, my native place, about 18kms south of Satara. We started from Bombay, speeding in an air conditioned car on the expressway, talking to my dad of the booming Indian economy. On the way we stopped at Pune as some of us had some shopping to do. We parked in the underground parking of a mall. It was amazing; easy to drive down there, lot of space, very disciplined and safe. Just as they show in all those Hollywood flicks.
After all was done, we hit the road again. This Pune-Satara is a segment of the Golden Quadrilateral Project our government’s been up to. It too is just amazing. We could sail there at about 120kph. I was reading a news paper article about the coming boom in telecom sector…
My friend Vinnie called me up while I was at Koregaon; busy with my cousin’s friends. Vinnie’s dad is a Kannadiga, her mom a Konkani. Though she’s been born and brought up in Pune and understands marathi, like many of us, she isn’t very comfortable with it. We usually talk in English.
I was on phone with her for about 25 minutes I guess and as I ended the call I noticed motley of about 40-45 people surrounding me. I thought I’d done something offensive. I looked at them confused when a child suddenly remarked addressing my sister sitting just across “Tumchya varad dadala sagla english yeta?” Meaning “Does your Varad dada know entire english?” There was a look of shock on his face. Fear, surprise. Varad dada who’d been so close to these kids just 25 minutes before was now alien.
As if this wasn’t enough my aunt who’d been witnessing our conversation, mine and Vinnie’s, remarked “Does your friend have a free phone?” I didn’t get her at all. Again the same look, confused. “You were on phone for 30 minutes! How can anyone afford that? Besides you weren’t talking anything important, I haven’t seen a “How are you today?” call going this long!”
I cant tell you how I handled these situations. Had I been home, my mom would have shouted for “wasting time on the phone” probably after like 40 minutes, but 25 minutes only?
My uncle there is considered King of the stock market. He invests moderate amounts and gets back good dividends on his stocks. I was discussing with him the concept of “Free phone”, the one that involves listening to ads for a few seconds before calling and he seemed completely ignorant of it. Where did you read it, he asked me. Times of India and Economic Times, I replied. He said they don’t get those papers there.
Later my dad introduced me to his friend’s son. He’s doing law. First year, ILS Pune. At first I was happy I’d finally found someone my age. We went to the computer in my uncle’s bedroom to pass some time. I found he couldn’t really use the comp because he didn’t understand English. I thought it was okay. But some time later, as I referred to some site in the course of conversation, he asked me “What is internet?”
I was shocked.
This moment the only line I can think of is:
“Different parts of India live in different centuries.”—N.A. Palkhiwala in We, The People
Today, sitting here, typing this on my PC, I realize how privileged I am to think “How do I improve my French?” or “Which is the cheapest plan for my cell phone?” or “How do I reduce my net addiction?” while a town just 120 kms away is still figuring out the century it is living in.
However the most important question I want to ask here is, which is that booming economy we’re talking of and in which India is it? In which century is she living?
The Happy Prince...
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
I want Them to stretch,
And tear my eyes apart
To give a bump in my butts,
An aching dent in my back
I want Them to give
Sleepless nights for years to come
Dark round circles
Around my eyes
But They shall fill my empty mind
With openness
A feeling of satisfaction, a glow
On my face
A life worthy of living,
An occupied mind worth having
....THE BOOKS
The Happy Prince
And tear my eyes apart
To give a bump in my butts,
An aching dent in my back
I want Them to give
Sleepless nights for years to come
Dark round circles
Around my eyes
But They shall fill my empty mind
With openness
A feeling of satisfaction, a glow
On my face
A life worthy of living,
An occupied mind worth having
....THE BOOKS
The Happy Prince
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