Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

-John Lennon

I could have been there

An acquaintance from Delhi was in Mumbai on the 26th and I was to go to VT to meet him. I had an uncomfortable feeling in the evening and told the person I won’t be coming as it will get quite late and we made plans to meet next day. From work I went home instead and in the night got a call from my sister’s friend to inform us about the attacks. We turned on the TV and couldn’t believe what we were seeing. Just an hour back I had recommended Leopold to the guys from Delhi for drinks and Bade Miyan for dinner. Thankfully though they had gone to Leopold they did not wait there but moved on to have dinner. Small mercies for me! I was transfixed to the news on TV when suddenly my mom said if you had gone to VT today, you would have been there. Solace for my mom that I was home but I could not feel any relief. I think we have crossed the point where we can be happy that MY family, MY friends and I are unharmed. What about the next time!

I went to sleep that night hoping that when I wake up in the morning, everything will have been sorted out. I think it was clear to everybody by morning that it was not one of those attacks that we have gotten so used to, where there is a blast, we hear about it we call our loved ones and if they are fine thank god for it, feel a little bad for the victims and carry on with life. I feel it is not just resilience that puts us back on our toes the next day, there is a lot of numbness too; as long as everybody we know are fine we almost go about our business with robotic precision. It wasn’t surprising that so many of us were getting restless and impatient and couldn’t understand why the defence operation was taking so long. The longer it went on the deeper went the grip of unease. The frustration and helplessness of the situation got hammered into us and for the first time since so many attacks across India I have noticed people haven’t been able to shake off the sense of loss and carry on unaffected.

There is a lot of anger towards the politicians and of course towards Pakistan. But these are not the only factors that can be held responsible for the attacks we face time and again. Somewhere the citizens of this country are also responsible for the Government apathy towards our security concern. A lot of self-introspection is needed at the individual level. The only time we have a sense of nation and shared identity is when the national cricket team is playing. The rest of the time the state and language divisions are so important to us that even the Indian expatriate community can not overcome it and around the world we see Bengali, Telugu, Gujarati… committees and groups. It is so easy for a Thackarey or a Singh, or a Modi, or a Gandhi or a Yadav to instigate us against each other.

Sometimes I feel we got independence from the British at an inappropriate time. More of our masses should have been educated before we became a sovereign. Even today we have a large vote bank that can be bought for as cheap as 100 rupees per head. From our first Prime Minister to now we have had only opportunists governing us simply because it has been so easy to manipulate and divide on the basis of religion and language. What is disheartening is people still fall for it.

It would be ideal to live in a world with no boundaries and religions. We don’t, but how difficult is it to live in the real world by accepting and appreciating diversities. For a change can we stop hating or differentiating the other person because he does not speak the same language and think as one nation even when India is not playing cricket?

Reverse Osmosis

Of late I have been meeting foreigners – various nationalities; each one of them finds it astounding that people speak more of English than any of the native languages in Mumbai. I try to tell them that we learn it as first language in school, so we are used to it. They still don't see why we can't talk in hindi among ourselves. Since these encounters I have consciously tried to keep track of conversations I have with people. I have found that very few educated people will reply or talk to you in Hindi or Marathi. Ask a question in Hindi or Marathi and 99 out of 100 times the reply will be in English. Some people just refuse to speak anything else. No wonder so many English speaking classes have sprouted in the city.

One of my friend teaches in one such institute in the western suburbs. Recently I went to meet her at her class and she asked me to talk to the students and give them some tips on how to prepare for interviews. I asked each one of them why did they want to learn to speak English. Everybody believed that English was the key to profesional success. One guy said he works in the purchase department of a company and finds it difficult to communicate with people as many talk to him in English. He stated because he studied in vernacular medium his English is weak and he wants to improve it. I have never liked the word vernacular. I said to him Marathi is not vernacular it is far superior in syntax and structure than English. It is nice to learn English though, it is the most dynamic and inclusive language and much help in the professional world. It is amazing how this term 'Vernacular' has become synonymous with Indian Languages. A bunch of arrogant colonists term some of the richest languages in the history of humankind in terms of both literature and dialect as vernacular and Indians continue to be the torchbearers of a dead past. Allow me a chuckle here.

It is amazing how the English dailies unfailingly use this umbrella term every time they have to refer to any Indian Language. Now since English has become as much Indian as any other language why still the distinction. Can't do much about our psuedo-intellectual, elitist media, they are best left alone. But what's stopping me from having fun. It's time for reverse osmosis (don't ask me what it is, I like the term). I am going to work the ask me anything in English and I will reply in Hindi trick on everybody. And if someone throws a fake accent devil help them.

I abhor Shopping

After a loooooooooong time I went shopping yesterday. As if it wasn't bad enough before, during this time (my long sabbatical from shopping) clothes have managed to get even more crappier and costlier. What's with Lifestyle, Shoppers Stop, Westside, and all other such stores. Are these shops dumping grounds for badly made, psychedelic clothes? For the first time yesterday I was a little envious of men, dressing is still simple for them and they still get value for money. I see that giving up on clothes is not a choice available, humanity is stuck with its invention. The best option is to keep wearing the same clothes (unless you put on weight, in which case you borrow clothes from your elder sister, who is on her own weight gain trip. If the elder sister has nobody to borrow from, well her fault, you didn't ask her to be the first born). Men too can follow the above example, although life is easy for them (it always is).
Some advantages to give up buying new clothes:
-You save money.
-Looking at your old clothes nobody will expect tips from you.
-Men and women will not get attracted to each other (I think I am on to something here)
-Friends (including Kathy in my case) will start gifting you clothes more often
-I will never go into depression again.

"There is no point of getting a promotion on the day of your breakup. There is no fun in driving a car if your back hurts. Shopping is not enjoyable if your mind is full of tensions."
- An excerpt from some speech Chetan Bhagat gave to some students.

Balance in life!

It came to me just now. The answer. I know why I am always dozing off in the office. Most of the lifetime I have spent trying to stay awake in broad daylight. I am a superhero(female)by the night. Now I also know why every morning I have this mass of tangled, jumbled, mumbled, wayward, every woman's nightmare mass of hair on my head. I forget to wear a helmet when I am flying. That's all that came to me, rest of my superhero identity still escapes me.

Nice, beautiful, rainy day. Lots of work to finish. Am sipping green tea and working at my own pace. My fav cd just stopped playing. Chatted with a long lost friend. Maxi popped in for a minute and sent me hugs. song playing in my heart.

Kahin To Yeh Dil Kabhi Mil Nahin Paate
Kahin Pe Nikal Aaye Janmon Ke Naate
Thami Thi Uljhan Bairi Apna Mann
Apna Hi Hoke Sahe Dard Paraaye

Summer 2007

I watched Summer 2007 yesterday. It was by fluke that I ended up watching it. Kathy got a break from perjury and was home (his home). He wanted to watch a movie on Sunday by any means, but since he had to go back early evening, he wanted to watch an early afternoon show. We had plans to either watch Aamir, Sarkar Raj or Indiana Jones, but none of the show timings were good for Kathy. The only option was Summer 2007 at 11.40 am. We weren't even thinking of summer 2007. I was under the impression it must be 'I know what I did last summer' kind or other such stupid Hollywoodesque movie. With close to no TV promos and an odd poster here and there with the 5 main characters in various poses for publicity, anybody would think that. My sis said the movie's got good review in IE. I read it, called Kathy and we decided to go for it. I am glad I watched the movie inspite of all odds, sunday morning, lazy mood, and prejudiced preconceived notions about the movie. All in all the movie's good work, nice work by the actors too. Unfortunately, the movie is up only for the morning shows in all multiplexes. There were only 2 rows occupied for the show. My suggestion would be skip the Priyadarshans and RGVs and watch summer 2007 this monsoon. Sad how superbly pathetic and no purpose movies like Tashan and the likes have huge publicity budgets and movies like Summer 2007 come and go without a trace.

I know it is not a great thought.

But sometimes I feel I should be less of me and more of others.

Its been a long time since my muse Ganju has appeared on this blog. Before she complains, here is a concocted conversation between Ganju and The Humbles (who else but me)

Ganju: Nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Yeh tumne kya kar diya???
The Humbles: Ganju tohar suhag ki kasam hum naahi jaanat (not jannat) yeh kaisan hua. Jaan bujhkar humne kacho naahi kiya.
Ganju: Bhagya tumhare bharose main isse match box se nikalkar ghumne chodd gayi thi. “sob sob sob” Peechle ek hafte se yeh masoom meri tanhayee meetha raha tha.
The Humbles: Par Ganju yeh ek jhingoor hi toh hai
Ganju: Kya, tumhe yeh sirf ek jhingoor nazar aa raha hai! Roz sabere unke jaane ke baad, issike saath toh main saara din guzaarti thi. Kaise, Kaise tum iss nirdosh ki jaan le payi.
The Humbles: Hey Bhagvan! Ee sab kya ho gaya. Humein maaf kardo Ganju, woh kya hain ke hum galti se iss par baith gaye. Kya hai ke humra wajan thoda badh gaya hain na, isse pehle ke hum uth jaate bechare ka dum ghut gaya.
Ganju: Ab main kya karu? Kiske saath apna waqt bitaaon?
The Humbles: Kauno phikar ki baat nahi Ganju. Ek jhingoor kya, humre gaon se hum tumhare liye jhingoor ka pura khandaan mangva sakte hain. Bas tumhare hukum ki deri hain.

Ganju is in deep thought, either she is still mourning or she has liked my idea.

I could do with less heat, more response to my work, a break, seeing Max and Dim (I so miss these guys), some meditation, carefreeness back again, less pollution, music in my heart, some rain to wash away this strange mood.

Back in the limelight

For the last 45 odd days, Manoranjan ka Baap, IPL, has been my sisters only interest. The woman was completely hooked. She's watched every damn match except one of the latest Bangalore vs hyderabad match(she couldn't handle the boredom). I have my doubts about going home today. She wont have anything to entertain her, so she might shift her attention on me. Everything from my paunch to the clothes I wear will be under the scanner again. Not that she completely ignored me during the last 45 days, everytime she found me eating a cream biscuit she dutifully pointed out the correlation between food habits and weight gain. She also had problem with a white skirt I had worn last week and the track pants I wore yesterday. The blissful days of low level scanning are over.

Simple Life

Why don't you put in some effort! he said
Because I am not interested.
You are very blunt.
Yes, it saves a lot of time, I said.

Until then

If external world is the cause of your sadness, you cannot get rid of that sadness even if you create a new situation or go to a new place.
- Swami Dayanand

If I was anywhere even close to being in the state these words are propagating, I wouldn't be sitting here and making this post. Rather I would be somewhere giving words to my own profound thoughts. Or may be I wouldnt be anywhere at all. But I am here and I am not cut out from this external world. It makes me sad and it makes me happy.

If I get the point, what these profundities mean and the reason they are around is to remind me that you may not be there, but the whole point of this exercise of a lifetime is to get there. I would want to get there. Until then I dont mind going to new places. Only want the travel and stay to be first class.

They did a Musaddilal on ME

On Friday, I had submitted my passport and documents at the new passport office for address change. I was supposed to collect it today at the specified time, between 4.30 and 5.30 pm. There I was at 4.45 pm all innocent and hopeful a la Musaddilal. I handed the slip to the lady at the counter. She looked through the pile on her desk didn't find my passport so went around looking for it at other peoples desk. This should have triggered my panic button, but for some reason I continued to be innocent and hopeful.

The lady came, gave me my slip back, asked me to sit down and said she will call me in ten minutes. A different lady called me and asked me if I had an old passport. I said no, this is the only passport I have and its valid. So she said they have found records of a similar looking person and similar name, so was I sure if I never had any other passport. The panic button still didn't get triggered. I think I have lost the sense of detecting evil under disguise. Suddenly my dimag ki batti came on and I said the records must be my sisters. So she asked me their names, I gave her both their names. The lady all excited ran to the others screaming yes she has sisters, they are her sisters. Continuing with the same innocent and hopeful frame of mind I thought good now that the puzzle is solved, they will hand me over my passport.

But when were things easy for Musaddilal. After some discussion with their boss, they wanted to know where are my sisters based. I said one is here and the other is abroad. After some more discussion they wanted to know where does the one who is in India stay. I said in the same house with me. I think that did me in. The boss saw a lucrative opportunity of making money out of me. They asked me to get my sister and her passport along with me tomorrow morning. They will verify in person that two similar looking persons do exist. The lady at the counter got quiet sympathetic and she said it shouldn't be a problem we can go ahead and do the address change, but if "sahab" says no what to do.

I wasn't asked for money outrightly, but I am quite sure if I had offered their boss money I would have my passport with me now. When I was standing at the counter a couple passed me and I overheard the man telling the woman that he gave 3000 bucks in bribe and he pointed at the boss and said you see that specky (yeah specky, means the one who wears spectacles)guy, I couldn't hear anything more as they went out of earshot. Another thing, my sisters passport has our current residence address, if I had wanted a duplicate passport why in the world would I want to change the address on my passport to our current address. Logically, why will anybody with the intention to make duplicate passports want it on the same address. If I was an imposter I would at least have the sense of taking on an entirely different surname for myself and totally different names for the parents. Besides, there must be scores of sisters in the world who look alike. Does this happen to all of them? So circumstantial and logical evidence proves that the man just saw a chance to make money out of me. That didn't happen and it wont happen with my sisters cooperation :D. (I told her not to take offence that they think we look alike.)

But what might happen is, the man may get kidnapped, he may be forced to eat lots and lots and lots of jalebis and he may not be given even a drop of water to drink after that.

I am Sweet Spring

Today I stumbled upon a poet named Komitas. Two of his poems made sense to me so they get the honour of being here.

I AM

I am your love,
I am the heat of your love,
Yet lonely...

I am your woman,
You, you are my soul
That I depend on...

Your voice sounded as sudden thunder of love
My soul breathed as an elating lightning of spring...

I breathed your breath deep down my chest
And by your fire I became the poet of the flames...

Only after reading the poem second time it struck me, that it was written by a man and not a woman. I only know of Kailesh Kher who does that beautifully.

SWEET SPRING

Sweet spring,
Flower and bud,
The merry stream,
Sparkling babble,
Green bloom,
Delightful dew,
Refreshing brook

Where did you leave all these...

While reading this poem I was like, what is this, then I read the last line and it made sense.

I am a morning person. The day I wake up late I feel the day is wasted. Yesterday I did not set the alarm because today we have kept the office closed. It's Labour Day in Maharashtra so I decided not to labour today. But I woke up at 5.45 am on my own. The cuckoos were already up and making their presence felt. I went about my morning rituals of drinking 1.5L of water followed by a dreamy Yoga session. At 8.00 am I went back to sleep and woke up at 10.00 am, 2 hours of extra sleep doesn't do anybody harm :D

I am very happy, my body is setting back into a proper clock rhythm. I dont have to make an effort to rise early anymore. Until just a month or two back I used to be constantly fatigued and sleepy. It's more than a month now and I have stuck to my 3 alternate days walking and 3 alternate days yoga schedule. I can see the paunch (actually a tire) slowly declining and relinquishing the space it was occupying around me.

I wanted to start with a bit of jogging too. That will have to wait a little, as I had fallen from a stool and sprained my left ankle and hurt the shin too. And as if that was not enough two days later did Surya Namaskar which hurt the leg more. Since then it has been acting up once in while. Which means the jog trip will have to wait until the left leg forgets all about the abuse it went through and starts cooperating again. I wish to be fit enough to be able to participate in the marathon next year. I don't want to run a long stretch or set a goal. I just want to be fit to be able to participate and run. That's it.

Everyday I want to fly, stay by my side
Everyday I want to dream, stay by my side
Every morning I wish I could just play
Wish the mornings would just stay...

I am in love...with the song, the little girl and of course the pug.

if you like the company you keep in the empty moments

Ganju had given this poem to me ages back. It has been coming back to me off and on since the last few days. so today I dug it out from wherever it was stored among the other bits & bytes. I don't think I have read a better poem as far as putting things in perspective is concerned. So putting it up here for anybody who ends up here and cares to read it. I don't even know who wrote it.


It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your sorrows, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see the beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you will stand at the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Learning

Another small delay today. What we were hoping for is on the tentative now. It is never easy once the ball is out of your court and you have to depend on other factors for things to happen, move, work... Running a start up has made me realise there is no end to patience and perseverance. There is no such thing as I have been patient enough or I have done enough. Continuous, relentless efforts are all that matters. Simple wisdom! I am thankful for learning it now.

Who's Who?

So we are not as unique as we would like to think. Has anybody noticed the similarities between Kareena Kapoor (KK) and Paris Hilton (PH)? They look so same they could pass off for twins. Bhalla thinks they must be split soul, one born as KK and another as PH. I must say one smart soul, enjoying both lives.

Come to think of it, there must be everybody's look alike somewhere. When I was a kid of about 15-16 years, there was this grocery shop in our locality from where I shopped for groceries. Every time I went to this shop the guys working there would get really excited and would whisper among themselves. This went on a few times, each time they would call someone new from inside, look at me and whisper. Thankfully after a couple of visits I found the reason for all this excitement and whispering. The old man who owned the shop told me he had a daughter approx my age who looked "hoobahoo" like me and lived in Lucknow. Thats why everybody in the shop was happy to see me.

The moment I saw the connection and realised I was the source of a lot of happiness for the man, my mind started screaming DISCOUNT! DISCOUNT! But I think the man's antennae were out of warranty, they did not catch the signal my brain was sending. So I ended with no discount and a memory to surface every time I saw KK and PH pictures splashed in the papers. What must life be like for my lookalike? Married? Kids? A conventional life in conventional Lucknow? How different from the humble one's life who is just about managing to keep herself above the poverty line?

Passive Smoker in Making with designs on Saif Ali Khan

A day before Holi I was invited by an acquaintance to join him and his friends in some disc in Bandra. From where I stay I will reach Pune faster than Bandra. But he kept insisting that I come for once. So I had to tell him that am not acting like a social discard to earn more footage, its just that I can't handle cigarette smoke. To which I was told that in such places one should become an active smoker. I don't see a point in paying for something that I get for free.

The last time I subjected myself to passive smoking, I ended up with throat infection which took close to 2 months to go away. This guy on the next table at Mocambo was smoking as if cigarettes were going out of fashion. I could have changed my seat, but where could I go. I would still be on this earth. It's not that easy to avoid them smokers. The food was so delicious that only at the end of the meal I realised I was croaking like a frog and it felt like a nano bomb (my own creation) had exploded inside my throat.

Last Sunday I had to meet someone on beejness. So here we went, Rascal and I, to Barista. Our contact had just recuperated from fever so he couldn't handle the AC inside and we ended up sitting outside, among the liberated, whose lives purpose is to smoke it away in glory. Looks like my immune system has seen a spike lately. No throat infection this time, am only croaking a lil bit and it doesn't seem in a hurry to get better. Another few days and I will get used to the phata hua awaaz.

Rascal came up with a brilliant solution for this problem. I should join Ogie during his daily smoking sojourns. But that will give me very limited exposure, so I am thinking of inviting tenders from hot men, a la Saif Ali Khan in Race, who smoke. Wait! If I remember correct, he did not smoke in the movie. Perfect!

The tree will live on and on

There is a beautiful anjeer (fig) tree outside our building compound, which shades my bedroom from direct sunlight. It is a delight to wake up every morning and see this tree the first thing in the morning. Its speciality is it bears fruits throughout the year and is in full bloom in winter and leafless in spring. It provides non-stop food supply for the squirrels and the assorted birds around. About a year back a nutcase almost got this tree cut. He had encroached the land around the tree and was afraid some monsoon it may not withstand the strong wind and fall on his roof. They did cut a lot of branches on his side and when they started chopping on our side my mom saw what was happening and went down and stopped them from cutting the tree. Some feisty lady she is.

Since then the branches have grown a lot on our side and now they touch our window; to my delight! Only problem, when there is good amount of breeze, one particular branch keeps hitting on the tin shade we have on our window to keep the rain out. The thing is it is not possible to sleep when it does that due to the noise it makes. And second, during the monsoon with the wind always strong the branch will continuously hammer the shade and might break it. So we thought we will have a tiny part of the branch cut and asked folks living on the first floor to refer a tree cutter. We live on the second floor.

To our horror they suggested we cut all the branches down to the trunk, so that the problem is solved forever. My ma told them it’s not required; we just want to cut the tiniest part possible. But the psycho kept trying to convince her to cut the entire tree and leave the stump (probably as a reminder of the destruction we humans are capable of). As if that is not enough the jokers who make our neighbours want to have another tree chopped. Reason! Dried leaves from the tree fall on the terrace and make kachra. Someone’s got to tell them the only being that litters this planet is humans. I totally fail to understand the enthusiasm people have for chopping off trees. What will it take for humans to start seeing sense? Complete desertisation?

"Tujhe akele kaam karne mein bore nahi hota hai?" she asks me every time I talk to her. My answer always is no. When I am working alone I don't have to put up an act. I don't have to tolerate people I don't want to. Nobody tries to put me down. No smart asses to deal with. No interruptions. No bitching. No games. No more cacophony of mindless words.

Music...Silence...thoughts...peace

How could I not love my own company?