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Monday, October 01, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Khaaleee
That's what my home in Sun City is, absolutely khalee! Itna ke hall mein rah ke ghar phone karo to bolte hain ki 'Kuwen mein se bol raha hai kya?' I have wilfully checked myself from buying any furniture, though spent lavishly on the white goods. I wanted to do a well-matched interior-decorated furnishing in the whole house that gives it a contemporarily vibrant but not flashy look. But now it's getting to me... I need a chair! I need a table! I cannot 'Work From Home' with the laptop on the fridge carton and my butt on the bucket that leaves a mark on the soft tissue.
It pinched me big when this Sunday evening Kimi went and won at Magny Cours and I could not see it... just read about it and see his picture on TOI sports page, exulting in warm red of this year instead of the cool silver. While on the colours; I had a black and silver McLaren helmet that said Kimi somewhere. I lost that and a few others, broke a couple as well, and now I have another silver-black Kimi one. Inappropriate, I know, but do I have the flash to pull off red streaked helmets? I will, when Harley changes me.
And khalee ghar bhi bharega. Bas ek adad interior decorator aur ek billi chahiye... that's not more than a year from now.
All is good in blissville and we are
softly treading the path to permanence
We prepared with armours for the war
that never started, all saw the good sense!
It pinched me big when this Sunday evening Kimi went and won at Magny Cours and I could not see it... just read about it and see his picture on TOI sports page, exulting in warm red of this year instead of the cool silver. While on the colours; I had a black and silver McLaren helmet that said Kimi somewhere. I lost that and a few others, broke a couple as well, and now I have another silver-black Kimi one. Inappropriate, I know, but do I have the flash to pull off red streaked helmets? I will, when Harley changes me.
And khalee ghar bhi bharega. Bas ek adad interior decorator aur ek billi chahiye... that's not more than a year from now.
All is good in blissville and we are
softly treading the path to permanence
We prepared with armours for the war
that never started, all saw the good sense!
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Bhi are in... Bihar - II
We went on to Ballia, where I was greeted by two unusually silent cousins. The two girls were almost always on mute in front of me and dad, and talked a bit with mom. Was it the dictator-like rule of uncle on the family? Was it because they never really went to college, and instead just prepared at home for the annual exams? The culture had somehow etched on them that shy, reserved, dumb was equal to ideal homely girl. Now because of that, the elder cousin is not able impress any groom her father finds for her. The guys want smarter girls nowadays. Whose mistake then, uncle?
We went to Dad's high school in Ballia. Forty four years ago, he used to cycle here from Sanha (an hour up and down) to study when his brothers were busy either playing in the fields or helping at Dada's shop. Dad was the first engineer in his village following Dada's footsteps, who was the first metric-pass. He must have felt nostalgic. The same arch, the same building, the same classrooms. But it looked like the benches weren't different either. And the same truancy, the same mediocre teachers? In this school maybe, but not in D.A.V, Begusarai where Sujeet Gandhi is grasping the neo-hindu ways of monotheism and no idol worship in addition to competitive formal education. Change's knocking, what?
Sanha, my best day in Bihar was spent here. A real village with open spaces, green and mud-brown fields, thatched roofs, domestic cattle even at the richest house, ours. Rameshwar Poddar was once sarpanch of Sanha and now too his address is: Rameshwar Poddar, Gram Sanha, Jilla Begusarai, Bihar. And Sanha has a lac people now. Serious. On the morning walk my cousin chhotu took me to the banks of dried up Ganga and showed me masjid, school, playground and our fields. It must all look rustic and common to Sanha'ians, but urban I loved it.
My cousins Rani and Rakhi are the sweetest and most doting two girls I've seen! Both are pretty, bubbly and yet demure. Both are smarter than what's required of housewives. Such a contrast from the Ballia cousins! Maybe the reason is that their dad, my youngest chacha, who has suffered from a brain nerve damage, hasn't had that strict 'authority' during their bringing up. I hope they get husbands who dont need a nerve damage to remove malignant chauvinism.
There are more muslims than hindus in Sanha, and it has a special communal harmony. No cross-marriages, no close contact, but no mud-slinging or bitching either. Muslimon ke ghar ka paani nahin piyenge, par khoon bhi kyun piyen? Achchha hai!
We went to Dad's high school in Ballia. Forty four years ago, he used to cycle here from Sanha (an hour up and down) to study when his brothers were busy either playing in the fields or helping at Dada's shop. Dad was the first engineer in his village following Dada's footsteps, who was the first metric-pass. He must have felt nostalgic. The same arch, the same building, the same classrooms. But it looked like the benches weren't different either. And the same truancy, the same mediocre teachers? In this school maybe, but not in D.A.V, Begusarai where Sujeet Gandhi is grasping the neo-hindu ways of monotheism and no idol worship in addition to competitive formal education. Change's knocking, what?
Sanha, my best day in Bihar was spent here. A real village with open spaces, green and mud-brown fields, thatched roofs, domestic cattle even at the richest house, ours. Rameshwar Poddar was once sarpanch of Sanha and now too his address is: Rameshwar Poddar, Gram Sanha, Jilla Begusarai, Bihar. And Sanha has a lac people now. Serious. On the morning walk my cousin chhotu took me to the banks of dried up Ganga and showed me masjid, school, playground and our fields. It must all look rustic and common to Sanha'ians, but urban I loved it.
My cousins Rani and Rakhi are the sweetest and most doting two girls I've seen! Both are pretty, bubbly and yet demure. Both are smarter than what's required of housewives. Such a contrast from the Ballia cousins! Maybe the reason is that their dad, my youngest chacha, who has suffered from a brain nerve damage, hasn't had that strict 'authority' during their bringing up. I hope they get husbands who dont need a nerve damage to remove malignant chauvinism.
There are more muslims than hindus in Sanha, and it has a special communal harmony. No cross-marriages, no close contact, but no mud-slinging or bitching either. Muslimon ke ghar ka paani nahin piyenge, par khoon bhi kyun piyen? Achchha hai!
Bhi are in... Bihar - I
I traveled with my parents to Patna on the 28th May. My mother's sprawling family tree of 13 first branch siblings and a hundred leaf node kids belongs here. We are headed now to Ballia and the Sanha Village in Begusarai district, where my father's side is - sensibly big and, I daresay, more close-knit.
We got off at the Patna Rajendra nagar station on the election day when by law no motor vehicle is allowed on roads. While the 2 cycle-rickshaw moved through the narrow lanes to Mama's home, we saw four policemen with guns and a pistol chasing a man. The rickshaw walla said a polling booth was nearby and the chase was just to scare away the booth capturers. There was almost a curfew like ban on any motor vehicle, especially around polling booths. This was to prevent the the 'neta ka tattu log' from rounding and bringing people as vote banks in tempos. But ironically, that should also be one big inconvenience for the voters possibly resulting in low turnout, no?
I met a lot of my cousins, and by lot i mean in dozens. Many of them don't have Poddar in their school registered names. Reason? To prevent people from finding out their caste. We aren't SC/ST, then why? Cause generally it's a good idea to hide one's caste and only let merit show. So there was this DM in Begusarai called Manish Kumar and no one had a clue where he belonged, and no one dared ask. It wasn't possible to raise objections of partisanship against him. My cousins are Tushar Gaurav, Pranay Pallav ... even a Sujeet Gandhi. (Gandhi is oft-used muddler surname... I am Bihari, I am Gandhi, go figure my caste). Very sensible I'd say.
Bihar does have some special things. Parval ki mithai, khaajaa, sattu, litti chokha, badhi, teesi, boot ka saag, guramma... We were at a sweet shop in East Patna (less developed and more old-city like than West Patna) buying kilos of sweets for my many maternal relatives in that city. As I stood outside trying to mix-and-match 3 different kinds in 9 boxes, a hadrly sixteen girl in salwar kurta walked out of the shop and stood outside. A middle-aged man walked up to me from somewhere outside, pointed at her and asked me "Dost Banayenge?".
Patna's heat was oppressive and staying indoors was a torture, especially for Mom, who wants to sit inside the A/C when she sees one. So we decided to rather go to a cental A/C anything - mall, multiplex, theatre. Dad found out that the Vishal Mart was a central A/C mall, and Regent was an A/C theatre. No multiplex, but let's not quibble for more. Plan made: Book A/C Bolero, Afternoon in the A/C Planetorium and vishal Mart, evening show at Regent. Mom was looking forward to it all. Well, planetorium was closed, Regent was Air/Cooled and badly so, but the biggest surprise was Vishal Mart. A/C alright, but it was Patna's equivalent of Big Bazar, and as happily crowded as well. Patna's only A/C mall is a superstore. Long road ahead!
We got off at the Patna Rajendra nagar station on the election day when by law no motor vehicle is allowed on roads. While the 2 cycle-rickshaw moved through the narrow lanes to Mama's home, we saw four policemen with guns and a pistol chasing a man. The rickshaw walla said a polling booth was nearby and the chase was just to scare away the booth capturers. There was almost a curfew like ban on any motor vehicle, especially around polling booths. This was to prevent the the 'neta ka tattu log' from rounding and bringing people as vote banks in tempos. But ironically, that should also be one big inconvenience for the voters possibly resulting in low turnout, no?
I met a lot of my cousins, and by lot i mean in dozens. Many of them don't have Poddar in their school registered names. Reason? To prevent people from finding out their caste. We aren't SC/ST, then why? Cause generally it's a good idea to hide one's caste and only let merit show. So there was this DM in Begusarai called Manish Kumar and no one had a clue where he belonged, and no one dared ask. It wasn't possible to raise objections of partisanship against him. My cousins are Tushar Gaurav, Pranay Pallav ... even a Sujeet Gandhi. (Gandhi is oft-used muddler surname... I am Bihari, I am Gandhi, go figure my caste). Very sensible I'd say.
Bihar does have some special things. Parval ki mithai, khaajaa, sattu, litti chokha, badhi, teesi, boot ka saag, guramma... We were at a sweet shop in East Patna (less developed and more old-city like than West Patna) buying kilos of sweets for my many maternal relatives in that city. As I stood outside trying to mix-and-match 3 different kinds in 9 boxes, a hadrly sixteen girl in salwar kurta walked out of the shop and stood outside. A middle-aged man walked up to me from somewhere outside, pointed at her and asked me "Dost Banayenge?".
Patna's heat was oppressive and staying indoors was a torture, especially for Mom, who wants to sit inside the A/C when she sees one. So we decided to rather go to a cental A/C anything - mall, multiplex, theatre. Dad found out that the Vishal Mart was a central A/C mall, and Regent was an A/C theatre. No multiplex, but let's not quibble for more. Plan made: Book A/C Bolero, Afternoon in the A/C Planetorium and vishal Mart, evening show at Regent. Mom was looking forward to it all. Well, planetorium was closed, Regent was Air/Cooled and badly so, but the biggest surprise was Vishal Mart. A/C alright, but it was Patna's equivalent of Big Bazar, and as happily crowded as well. Patna's only A/C mall is a superstore. Long road ahead!
Low Brow Love
The point I want to make is that most intellectuals either remain dissatisfied in love or become fickle, and that those that remain at just the basic levels of understanding, care and compromise in the relationship not only stay faithful and happy but also in the end are the real winners in the craziness of relationships where single absolute truths are rarely found.
Take a happy couple in which One has had an earlier love in a smart, whimsical but unworldly person. Now, ask that One with a broad smile, "Isn't everything just perfect?" Chances are an ideological junkie will not reflect your enthusiasm, at least not genuinely... and anyways the real thinkers would die before faking a smile. A simpler One would have learnt that what was lost was possibly not worth all the pining.
Take a literary couple. Each has maybe churned out real thought-foods on, say Tagore, apartheid, contemporary art, economics or mediterranean cooking. One goes and finds a paramour - forbidden love that grows sweeter and eventually essential. Ask One what's right. Chances are the free-spirited individualist who believes in each-to-his-own, would choose to stop doing what the 'society' thinks is right and would go with the soul's calling.
Intellectuals have a flair for debating on the very tenets and norms of society, a knack of proving right their choices not only to others but to themselves too. They contrast more starkly what they have with what they want. They grow to like their own minds and think they deserve keeping only such like around. Intellectuals brood on the past more and demand more from the future. Intellectuals walk out on committments more often.
It may not be a winning argument, and who am I to win an argument against the high-brows... When it comes to love, simple seems good enough.
Take a happy couple in which One has had an earlier love in a smart, whimsical but unworldly person. Now, ask that One with a broad smile, "Isn't everything just perfect?" Chances are an ideological junkie will not reflect your enthusiasm, at least not genuinely... and anyways the real thinkers would die before faking a smile. A simpler One would have learnt that what was lost was possibly not worth all the pining.
Take a literary couple. Each has maybe churned out real thought-foods on, say Tagore, apartheid, contemporary art, economics or mediterranean cooking. One goes and finds a paramour - forbidden love that grows sweeter and eventually essential. Ask One what's right. Chances are the free-spirited individualist who believes in each-to-his-own, would choose to stop doing what the 'society' thinks is right and would go with the soul's calling.
Intellectuals have a flair for debating on the very tenets and norms of society, a knack of proving right their choices not only to others but to themselves too. They contrast more starkly what they have with what they want. They grow to like their own minds and think they deserve keeping only such like around. Intellectuals brood on the past more and demand more from the future. Intellectuals walk out on committments more often.
It may not be a winning argument, and who am I to win an argument against the high-brows... When it comes to love, simple seems good enough.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Aashi and I
20th May was a good Sunday. Invitation to togetherness, foreverness... and acceptance for life. We are in it for good now. Let the fights, complaints, misunderstandings, begin now! We're ready to take on them all! Aren't we, dear?
You've been so good to me all this while
It's been so perfect thus far
Can you see if we'll last the miles
Dont you want to see who we are
Come on now, lets gaze a bit
What lies ahead for us in it
Can you see a family, happy with a pup
Can you see bitter fights and sweet making up
Can you see me ...
Can you see ...
Can you see this love brim over, die eventually
Can you see another love that keeps us company
We won't be needy, nor hungry nor poor
We'll go see the world, maybe the moon too
We'll be fighting fit, live to ninety five
Love wont be needed to keep us alive
But will we, be our best together
And will we, stay closest forever
Well love's got a part to play in that
and you can see what I am getting at
I'll love you, untill I have this head on me
You can be, my music, my ... , my sweet would-be
So let's just fix it the, jigsaw is perfectly placed.
Marry me, marry me, marry me.
You've been so good to me all this while
It's been so perfect thus far
Can you see if we'll last the miles
Dont you want to see who we are
Come on now, lets gaze a bit
What lies ahead for us in it
Can you see a family, happy with a pup
Can you see bitter fights and sweet making up
Can you see me ...
Can you see ...
Can you see this love brim over, die eventually
Can you see another love that keeps us company
We won't be needy, nor hungry nor poor
We'll go see the world, maybe the moon too
We'll be fighting fit, live to ninety five
Love wont be needed to keep us alive
But will we, be our best together
And will we, stay closest forever
Well love's got a part to play in that
and you can see what I am getting at
I'll love you, untill I have this head on me
You can be, my music, my ... , my sweet would-be
So let's just fix it the, jigsaw is perfectly placed.
Marry me, marry me, marry me.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Bean counting
I am back.
A small city like Baroda will have everything within an arm's length. I pick up dad's Honda Activa and reach within fifteen minutes, anywhere I'd like to be. (Within city limits i.e., cause I'd like to be someplace else if given a choice). Groceries, one hop away, malls, two hops... bank, movies, doctor a couple more kangaroo hops away. It is a perfect place to lead a comfortable and happy life.
A big city like Bangalore will have everything within my wallet's reach. I pick up my huge fat Cisco Salary and reach within hours, anywhere I'd like to go. (Including Goa, Maldives, Europe, or beyond). Groceries, within 1k, shopping at malls, within 10k... Harley, Honda Civic, property, investments, within a couple more millions. It is a perfect place to lead a content and ambitious life.
But for few months from now, dad says, and I agree I'll be in Bangalore living the Baroda way... bean counting.
On Bean....
Check out Atkinson's dance in Mr. Bean's Holiday... physically funny yet not slapstick.
And the two trailers... It's running in INOX, Baroda but I am gonna wait and watch this one in Bangalore.
A small city like Baroda will have everything within an arm's length. I pick up dad's Honda Activa and reach within fifteen minutes, anywhere I'd like to be. (Within city limits i.e., cause I'd like to be someplace else if given a choice). Groceries, one hop away, malls, two hops... bank, movies, doctor a couple more kangaroo hops away. It is a perfect place to lead a comfortable and happy life.
A big city like Bangalore will have everything within my wallet's reach. I pick up my huge fat Cisco Salary and reach within hours, anywhere I'd like to go. (Including Goa, Maldives, Europe, or beyond). Groceries, within 1k, shopping at malls, within 10k... Harley, Honda Civic, property, investments, within a couple more millions. It is a perfect place to lead a content and ambitious life.
But for few months from now, dad says, and I agree I'll be in Bangalore living the Baroda way... bean counting.
On Bean....
Check out Atkinson's dance in Mr. Bean's Holiday... physically funny yet not slapstick.
And the two trailers... It's running in INOX, Baroda but I am gonna wait and watch this one in Bangalore.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Dogtag for a new chapter
Yesterday, it all ended with a thud. Today I deleted every single mail, chat, pictures and files associated.
Yesterday, it all began with a start. Today, I got a confirmation that it's time I start treasuring new mails, chats, pictures and files associated.
Smooth transition, what? I'll be back here in another 90 days. Till then, ISB.
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