Learning Lessons

I've been so baffled over these past days hearing and reading so much that I wonder what makes sense and what does not.....and if at all anyone can ever drive some sense into people who have such wierd notions about human beings and about life itself..... the perpetrators of violence of any kind need to be brought to book....can there be a system where humaneness be injected into people's minds....I wish there was a way to do that......

This ghastly and absolutely numbing crime  is not a single-point issue.....there is much more to it and I completely agree that the instant politicisation of any social issue ensures that the debates become cynical, and I daresay a lot more glamourous too....look at the panelists on various news channels....I just can't tolerate even one of them ........... and their shallow talk and indifferent lip service  comes across as so totally outrageous and insulting to the masses who suffer because our legal system is unfortunately perpetrator-friendly.....it may sound strange and ridiculous to those who have not had a brush with it....but those in the field know how atrocious it can be when the victim has to go all out to prove that he/she is indeed the victim while the criminals are not not pronounced criminals until proven guilty, which may take years considering the manner in which our  courts work. 

It is not just this one case where such a heinous crime has been commited so brutally.  Today it is Delhi that is being termed  the Rape Capital...... Do we remember Gujarat? Rape as a war-weapon has been tolerated and even encouraged.....in times of communal riots it has the sanction of religious/political powers.

And is anyone going to talk about female foeticide when it comes to talking about crime against women.....? and the dowry deaths....?
These are not isolated issues.....they are all related to the dignity of women and they have all taken a hugely inhuman  toll on female lives.

I'd like to add that while laws need to be strict, no law is useful if implementation is slack.....also in comparison changing laws is easier than changing a mindset.......and we all know harsh laws don't change mindsets........ also if a junior officer is at fault, his senior should be taken to task too........ most of the time subordinates are at fault because  they know their seniors are corrupt and will not penalise them

The balme game is and age-old game and we all seem to play it well . Let us stop searching for scape-goats to bear our guilt.

And on second thought I wonder if it is so difficult for parents to teach their children good values........what kind of parents would like their children to go through legal procdures and punishments to learn values in life...............
Like it or not, admit it or ignore it but the fact will not change unless we do something about it. 
And that most regrettable fact is that we have a culture of glorifying violence. We have a mindset where even a drive to educate the masses to get their children vaccinated is termed as a war (against that particular disease)
It would be to our long-term advantage to come out of this ailing primitive mindset and realise that violence is not a solution. 

Do we realise that it is this insensitive barbaric mindset that led to the loss of an innocent life. So suddenly everything has changed for the family of a young girl who never had suspected what lay in store for her when she stepped out of her house that day......

Indeed  parents as well as teachers have to honestly share the responsibility as to how an adult shapes up.....laws and courts are very torturous....those who have gone there would know how inhuman the system is and something certainly needs to be done to make the system more accountable
We also heard some people argue that after all, the politicians, the police force, the judiciary and others who make the system work, come from among us......and  so I once again ask this one question more emphatically:
"Does it not become important to emphasise on introspective social changes too while we demand a more accountable police and judiciary?"

In all as I said above it is a baffling situation and a lot of things need to be taken together to bring about a solution
But to begin with, parents can start better.....and set an example

The Best Tribute

"Aaj ki hansti-muskuraati khushiyon mein aksar kahiin kal ke kisi gham ki mehekti yaadein mil jaati hain......"

 I was not waiting for a formal invitation card. Am not so fastidious with family celebrations. A casual call  asking me to join in is enough.....and that had come more than a month ago. Hence I was prepared. Delhi in December has always been beautiful, inviting, tempting..........

Yesterday afternoon the card also came.
There was something unexpected about it which  shook my heart and  blew off that layer of dust which was  shielding a bunch of memories for quite a while now. I had even tucked away in an unknown corner of the house that one  very  poignant photograph which reminded me of her.

She was not someone I knew personally. I had never seen her except  in the pictures. And  was I thankful for that.....
Yes ! In a way I was.
I think a person gives a part of himself / herself to you when they meet you. So had I seen her in person the memories would certainly have been far more difficult to fade away......

The first time I heard about her illness was at a cousin's place in Lucknow. She was then in her teens.  I never gave much thought to the news.  What   serious  problem  could there be with a normally growing up girl...... some people have this habit of making mountains out of a molehill  I thought .........................
Besides Her Family had access to  world class medical care .....so  if at all there was a problem that needed special treatment  it could be  taken care of by  the  most expensive and the very best on this planet.....
In the worst of my  nightmares too  I could never have dreamt of the actual state of her disease..... I had no idea that the reality she was putting up with at that tender age  was  distressingly shattering.......
 Her Story was therefore out of my system  at the first opportunity.

I got a real taste of its seriousness when things  were coming to an end for this young  girl, who would have turned eighteen had she lived a few more months.......
I felt a chill run down my spine as the realisation came.....her ailment  was incurable

My couisn's daughter  had come to Allahabad for an entrance exam. She was restless. Genuinely concerned about something , she had a worried look on her face and kept repeating that she should not have come.....What if something happened to her best friend....
"Zohra Khalaa ! She wants  me to be with her..... I think she feels lonely without me......she talks to me about everything ......perhpas she wants to still tell me so many things.....but this exam.....I  could not miss.... so I had to come...."
And then a little later she would call her friend's mother, talk for a while, cry in a solitary room, come out and mutter  "I wish nothing happens to her...."

"Nothing" happened to her ......except that till my cousin's daughter got back to Delhi, her best friend had  slipped into a coma......
All those things that she might have wished to share also slipped into oblivion......

And after some days she was gone forever.......

Goes without saying that my cousin and her daughter earnestly stood by  the bereaved family in those most trying  days....  in those hours  that refused to budge.................. in those minutes that just would not tick away.............
I also went for the Condolence Prayer Meet which was held for a soul that was so spotlessly pure , for a body that hardly got time enough to commit sins.....

My cousin's daughter could think and talk of no one but her best friend . She took us to her grave. We said a prayer  for the peace of a soul that must have been happy to have left a body which was needlessly experiencing so much pain and despair . At the graveyard the care-taker informed us that he had seen my cousin's daughter so many times sitting there and weeping.

We were now worried for her.
The loss of her dearest friend had immensely devastated her . And what was more disturbing was that she was  letting herself sink  into a bottomless ocean of pain and an extreme sense of loss. She could be  slipping into severe depression

Her parents surely had to work very patiently with her . Convincing her to leave Delhi....even leave India for a while..... and go abroad for further studies was not easy.
She would not hear of it...... "leaving her friend" one more time ......No....Never....!!
"I can't go......I can't leave her this time........"
She would blurt out passionately.

But finally she did go ....... and immersed herself in a new world.
Day, weeks, months......
Time passed.........

Now my cousin's daughter is getting married.
The Card  reminded me of  the amazing bond that she and her best friend shared ........... I think her best friend's parents are paying the richest tribute to this absolutely divine closeness between these two girls ......and  their gesture has  touched the deepest corner of my heart

My cousin's daughter's  Nikaah is to be solemnised at her best friend's parents' home.......

Revisiting the driveway.....

In Allahabd it was an early Ramzaan morning some time in October 2005-06. Pleasantly cold, it was that time of the year when one looks forward to festivities....Dussehra, Diwali, Christmas.....and the New Year.
For me and my family  this year was momentous.

I was in the midst of a  new beginning at this juncture in life when most of the complexities and the teething problems of a marriage are  usually   sorted out and life seems to settle down on a well cemented foundation.
So how does it feel when the apparently strong  foundation gives way and your  hitherto insurmountable castle of dreams comes crumbling down like a  weak house of cards ???

Having finished  the sehri, my father and I  got busy gathering the  things that had to be left behind  so that they could be safely kept. Our bags were packed for the journey that would take us away from this  beautiful and comfortable place called Allahabad.  The city where I had spent almost twenty two precious  years of my life. Some of sweetest and bitterest moments of life were shared not just in the company of my beloved family but in the arms of this wonderful  "friend" too.

I was about to go away, and  start afresh in a place that I had barely known ...... Just like it was more than two decades ago when I was married and  had to come to Allahabad , a town I had associated with "Chhora-Ganga-Kinaare-Walaas" .......I had left my parents, family and friends to settle down with an entirely unknown family, unknown people in a completely strange place.
And now when that place and its people had become my own I was being shunted out  as an outsider.
It was  perhaps the biggest paradox of my life.

But these emotions  must wait for a while. The eyes could not afford a surging rush of  salty waves that would drown my vision. I had work  to do. My father was diligently gathering all the important files that had to be left in the safe custody of a very obliging and trustworthy relative. My maid  and driver would arrive any moment.

A couple of hours later as she  walked with a loaded trolley of the things that I had let her take away, my maid of ten years looked longingly , tears in her eyes as if all that load which was now hers and was so precious to her till some  minutes back  had suddenly turned  worthless. All that mattered to her was the association which held us together not as a  Begum Sahiba and a maid, but as  Bhabi ji  and  Sona. I was her entire family's Bhabi ji.
And that was not all. The driver,  a young boy named Shamim in his late twenties was more like  a son  to me. He had begun by calling me "Madam" when he had joined, but later settled for that sweet word ..... Bhabi ji.

This was going to be his last  errand  for me  as my driver.

I wonder if  he could believe it. Because for me it was just too much happening too soon. He had  come  for the job  a little less than ten years ago. And through the years had sincerely  worked his way through to becoming  one of the family. I had trusted him with my small children. He had taken them to school , to friends' places, to the playground....
He had been always there with my husband on his business trips in and outside Allahabad. He knew the lawyers' office and residence. He knew the factory and offices of the companies that my husband worked for. He knew where our banks were located. He knew where our CA stayed.
He had  accompanied my father and me  as we made whirlwind tours of the locality   searching a  place where we could keep our belongings in-transit as we gradually worked our way out of Allahabad.

He was the one who, along with my innocent little children  had brought home my husband's body from the hospital.

And now he was the one who would take my father, me and our car to my native place, where  we would leave the car  before leaving for our destination: Mumbai.
He would of course go back to Allahabad.

It was too emotional a  journey..... The weather seemed colder than it perhaps was.
Usually we used to look  forward to long drives and  trips  outside Allahabad , to Lucknow, Kanpur, and of course to  my native town,  specially in the months when the weather is pleasant. Stopping over dhabaas and listening to film songs or music through the journey.
But this one  was rather quiet. Each one was perhaps engrossed in contemplating what the future held in store.

Five years later last December I was in Allahabad with my younger son.
A lot of things had changed.  To the eyes Allahabad was not the same.  But the heart knew that warmth , that love, that longing  which was all very much in tact.
December is really cold in Allahabad. The sun does  not come out of its sleeping bag  till noon at times....and goes back shivering  too soon.
I remembered  December was the time I had first  set my foot on this  sacred soil . I was not used to such extreme climatic conditions. But so totally loved it  from the beginning, spending   many  cozy winters  in the awesome hues of  Phlox, Salvias, Pansies, Calendulas,  Sweet Peas, Nastercium, Cinerias, Dahlias, Asters.....and the absolutely luxurious warmth of  a coal angeethi which  the servant was instructed to light before calling it a day, but sometimes my husband  himself would so lovingly light for me.....

Back to the present,  the dusty, muddy  and rather uneven roads were  a bit of a setback. Civil Lines  had lost its Colonial grandeur and fallen in line with "progress and development".  Gone were the old time bungalows that used to have  neat and plentiful gardens.  There were too many heaps of debris where once upon a time stood stately  spacious mansions. Too much construction activity was going on. We were  informed that multi-storied residential blocks would soon come up there.
And box-like monotonous Shopping Malls were fast  devouring in  those lovely personalised  grocery and clothes stores.
The Pride-of-Civil Lines,  "B.N.Rama" was razed to the ground.
And Palace Cinema was almost a ghost structure.

Is five years so long a time period or is the world moving too fast?

My son and I shopped for some gifts. And for Shamim's  children we purchased  story books, pencil boxes, colour pencils and such other  things. We knew he was working at the prestigious Bible Seminary and living in the residential blocks there.....his children were studying in English medium Schools.

When we reached the  magnificent Seminary  premises , there was a  Pre-Christmas celebration going on. Shamim's eldest daughter had grown tall and beautiful, almost lady-like, she was very dignified and clam. Not  a trace of that  running nose and those noisy tantrums had remained. His sons were too small when I had left and had not seen much of them then .Now  they came across as very well-mannered children accepting the gifts with  sweet "Thankyou-s".
Shamim's wife had learnt  embroidery and stitching  at a class for women . She was talking non-stop , her excitement oozing out like many birds chirping  pleasantly.

But Shamim was not home.
When I had called him half an hour ago, he had  not been able to contain his joyous excitement. So now where had he gone?
His wife smiled, and lowered  her large eyes  so  full of love. That smile  had not changed  even one bit.
Just then Shamim entered looking very smart , his sheepish grin,  in place...
The aroma of samosas following closely. And the earthen pot in his hands was so familiar. Gulaab Jamuns.....YES ....Of course !!!!
How many times he had brought these things when we had guests..... and  even otherwise when the children wanted a feast at home...... from "Heera Halwaai" at Thornhill road and Qadir Halwaai at Sabzi Mandi..... and the asli-ghee jalebis from Netraam at Katra.....countless......and countless  times  indeed!!!
On our way to Lucknow, we used to eat  at that one particular dhaba, which Shamim patronised. His chholey and samosas were divine. And the tea....absolutely refreshing.
At that dhaba  Shamim used to get  tea without sugar specially made for my mother, whenever Mummy accompanied us.

And  en route to Kanpur, there was The Mohan ka peda at Malwa-n and on our way to my native place  there were the  kalaa-Jaams at  Micheal Gunj....

So many memories  to share  ..... so much to say and listen....the time was indeed not enough.

The clock seemed  ticking faster than usual .........I'm not sure  how many hours  we spent with Shamim and his family........ but it seemed like minutes......When it time to leave, from the garden his wife brought some lemons and gave me , and Shamim said:
"Yahan sab araam hai Bhabi....lekin aap ke ghar jaisa araam nahi...."

I knew he was earning better, living better, doing so much better. I was very very happy for him from the bottom of my heart.
So could there be a sweeter and more precious  compliment than  him  saying this ?
I had a hard time holding back my tears of joy.

Once  we were back in  the car on the way to the hotel, my son remarked:
Amma! his children have grown bigger than I thought.   Our gifts should have been bigger by at least five years....!!!!!"

To us  it seemed  that those five years had  stood still ...........watching over us with fondness and good wishes.....as will all the coming years.....

Tanha Kaynaat

Main aksar apne saath hoti hoon
Kabhi subah ki sunehri kirno mein lehlahaati hui
Kabhi shaam ki mastt khunki mein gungunaati hui

Main aksar apne saath hoti hoon....
Waqt ke saath qadam milaati hui
Apne aap se khush, muskuraati hui....


Khud apne saath baithi hui
Kabhi  ugtey huay sooraj  ko
Kabhi udti hui chidiyon ko
Kabhi hanstey huay phoolon ko
Kabhi sharmaati hui ghaas ko
Kabhi paas aati hui titli ko
Kabhi doorr jaati hui ghataaon ko
Kabhi  nikhre huay chaand   ko
Kabhi behkey huay mausam ko

Apne dil mein apni aankhon se mehsoos kiya karti hoon


Unn ko wo  kyon  nahi dikhta
Jo  mujh ko nazar aataa hai  .......
Wo log jo kehtey hain ke
Apni tanhaai mein kahiin  khoii si main rehti hoon

Aakhir Kyon.....

This is  dedicated to a young couple very very dear to me.....I wish they would always  be together..................... for me they always will be.............
But in reality they are not .....................................................................


"Kyon bantey hain wo rishtey jin ki qismat  hai bikharna
Kyon miltey hain wo dil jin ki qismat hai ujadna

Wo tera  milna, phir baarha mujh se wo takrana tera
Meri qismat  thi....ya ke  thi wo qismat teri

Kyon jud gayi  chand din ko teri qismat se qismat meri.....

Kyon qareeb aaye thay hum jo tha aise hi chaley janaa
Kya karoon kaise sambhaloon main judaai ka ye nazranaa

Le jaa yaadein apni, de de waapis meri tamannaein
Warna amaanat mein khayanat ka bhi ilzaam lagey ga mujh par

Dil ke aangan mein ye  kirchein..... kitni chubhti hain
Kabhi paaon mein.... kabhi aankhon mein bhi lagti hain


Ek aandhi dabey paaon chali aayi thi
Kya ussi ne machaai hai tabaahi itni

Zara aansoo tham jaaein to dekhoon....
Thoda behlay jo ye dil, to zehen kaam karey....

Kyon baney thay wo rishtey
Jin ki qismat mein bikharna tha......

Chandni mein sharabor mera aangan

Simat rahi hai chaandni mere ghar ke aangan mein
Aaj ki raat chiraaghon se kaho zara araam karein

Aamrood ke darakhat ka saya jhilmila raha hai sarshar ho kar
Ghiidhaunchion par rakhey huay paani ke ghade mehek uthay hain mahaul ke saath

Kuchh dooor par beri ka  ooncha sa pedd  aasmaan ko tak raha hai tamanna ki tarah
Kuuein ke paani mein chhaand apna aks dekh kar thithak gaya hai kuchh itraata hua 

Kyaarian bhari paddii hain nashiili bele ki kaliyon se aarasta  ho kar
Ye kaliyan khilney ko betaab , aapas  mein sargoshiyan kar rahi hain

Khamoshi gungunaati hai,  raat ki masst hawa jhijhak si jaati hai
Chaandni utri hai mere aangan mein, chiraaghon se kaho aaj wo araam karein

( By Ghazala M )

Thankful Always :):)

"Shirin Farhad Ki to Nikal Padi" is a contemporary love story, where the characters are (obligingly) not from the stinking rich families who look like living in a make-believe world.
It is  not a rich-guy-poor-girl (or vice versa) fairy-tale.
It is also not about that teeny-weeny dream-of-the-teens called First Love.
It is actually quite realistic and beautifully emotional. But of course, like life, the film too has its imperfect moments. And like one who has learnt to move on in life, the viewers too happily let go of the flaws to enjoy the larger picture. Life itself.

The best part is that  it is  about mature , middle aged people and yet conveys a feeling that is as refreshing as the first dew-drops. Perhaps the blossoming of love  makes life bloom as nothing else ever can. It has been proved beyond doubt that love indeed has no expiry date.
To a traditional mind and to an orthodox lifestyle, it may be difficult to come to terms with some extraordinary facts of life ....situations and circumstances that are beyond one's control and hence must be tackled differently

Settling down in life is not deemed complete in most societies and communities unless one is normally (or is it naturally....???) married. Some extend this completeness to having children....and then further to the girl-boy ratio ..... So obviously most young people are supposed to "settle down" by a certain age. And what if that does not happen.
Or worse still if  the "settlement"  receives an unexpected blow from uncertainities that life often serves with extra helpings of rotten coldness....and which most often is bitter on the tongue and teary in the eyes.

Happiness comes with  having the freedom to choose Happiness.
And at  different phases in life Happiness comes with different meanings.
If at one time it is in togetherness, at some other time it may come in Me talking to Myself.
Life is full of possibilities and opportunities. It is also not same at all times.

I am absolutely convinced that Love has no expiry date.
But let us not forget that some relations do thankfully have an expiry date....
(Otherwise looking forward to future would be impossible !!!)

Kya hua....???

Umangon ka saiilaab umadd kar machalney wala tha
Ke rukk gayi barsaat....
Achanak...

Dooor talak waadi mein
Na koi badal bacha, na kahiin sayaa raha....
Zameen ki ghaas bhi jhulas gayi
Aur patte sab jhadd gaye darakhto'n se......

Utray kai rang
Khul gaye raaz kai......

Chhin gaye alfaaz zubaan ke
Kya karey fariyaad koi....


Ek saath  anginat dukh-bhare saaz baje 
Unn ki jhankaar ne samet liiye fiza ke rang sabhi

Dil  tha ke  mamooli sa sheesha tha
Ya ke wo koi khilona  tha....
Jo toota tha kahiin ...

Kya pata kya tha, magar shakk hota hai
Ke wo dil hi  raha hoga jo toot gaya khamoshi se

( By Shazia  )

Maazi ki ummas se doorrr

Aankhon  se ojhal huay , dil se bhi door ho gaye hain
Kitney pakkey thay wo rishtey jo yun choor ho gaye hain

Ab nayi Mehfilein hain , naye log , naye rishtey hain
Zindgi mein roshni  hai nayi , raastey puur-noor ho gaye hain

Maaili-maili si wo yaadein, meri aankhon ne unhein dho dalaaa
Khil uthi khwahisho'n ki dhanak , sajda e dil  manzoor ho gaye hain

Maazi ki ummas mein jiiye jaatey thay khud apne hi dushman bann kar
Khol  kar ghar  ke kiivadon ko  jo dekha hai  to masroor ho gaye hain

Doooor jis din se  huay khud se ,  bhool gaye thay andaaz e safar e zeest
Dil ki dhadkan ne  jagaya to,  khwaabon ke shaher zinda tabeer ho gaye hain

( By Ghazala M )

Shocked .....

11th August  starting  4 pm  was a musical concert  called "Malhar ke Prakar" at St.Xavier's College Hall. Had planned to go, but then as the rains have been almost scanty and The Malhar sounded ironical, I thought of  going to Linking Road instead. Yes!  the contrast  indeed was too much....what  after all can one compare between the soulful melody of the ragas and the soul-less business of shopping .

But now I know I was fortunate.

The pictures  of  an afternoon of violence  in Mumbai   are, to say the least, unbelievably shocking.  There have been hundreds of protests rallies and public meetings earlier at Azad maidan. Also there have been candle light homages, some  on a rainny evening too. But never has  there been this kind of  senseless violence where in a little over 30 minutes more than 10 vehicles get burnt or damaged.
The arson leaves  more than 50 innocent people injured and 2  people who must never have imagined what lay in store for them, dead.  So much tragedy. So much suffering. Absolutely  thoughtless.
And it was all so totally avoidable...

Who could have ever suspected that a rally  highlighting the plight of  the human massacre and injustice in Assam would end up resulting in misery and devastation for people who had nothing to do with the suffering in Assam.
The rally  has totally lost its purpose. And in fact created another issue. On television channels among others Baba Ramdev has condemned this act of arson and violence, while on the issue of Lokpal he has paradoxically asked his followers to be ready for a possible call for "Kranti".

Most of the time under one pretext or  another our respected  leaders and popular public figures have been endorsing and glorifying violence  and instigating the youth to take to the streets to fight "for their rights".  The youth, as we all know, are like some inflammable  material, who really and earnestly want to redeem  the ills that have been causing a decay in the system. They have dreams for a better tomorrow. And the energy to work for their goals. What they need is proper guidance.

It is  criminally disgraceful to  so ruthlessly and stealthily snatch their dreams away   and  turn them into cannon fodder in political  battles.  It is not "for thier rights" or dreams that they finally end up fighting.
In fact they most frustratingly finish  unsung , caught  between the devil and the deep  sea.  They realise after it becomes too late that they  have been cunningly "used"  for selfish interests, and have been evilly betrayed  by people in whom they had  put their  faith.

The dreams, the aspirations, the inspirations....the youth loose everything.
 Is it not a National Loss ?

Rains : Sheer Romance

The Great Mumbai Boating Festival begins. Enjoy Free Boating in Kurla, Milan Subway, Sion etc.
HURRY!!!
Offer valid till water logging lasts.
Courtesy:  BMC"
This SMS came as the first heavy downpour  lashed Mumbai and adjoining areas some days ago. After a hearty laugh,  "The Thinking Zohra" took over and a thought hit my mind like a bolt from the blue. .
How contented we as a Nation are. Our sense of humour and the power to laugh at our own plight is awfully matchless. Life for us has become a celebration of tiny smiles that thankfully lighten the heaviness of a burdensome existence. It is a treasure hunt where we manage to find our dessert in the cocktailed menu that the daily grind  of life serves us.

Take the potholed roads for instance. I don't want those craters to be filled in. Not just me , but anyone who stakes  a claim to being young at heart...and its not because they tend to make our Erath look like the Moon, but because we know how invaluable they are to our disintegrating love life in an over-crowded, over-worked city. After all who would like to loose those plentiful opportunities they provide for couples to get romantically close while riding a two-wheeler.

Rain water washes away the heaps of garbage that are "stored" with as much care as the surplus grains in our country. It mingles with its counterparts that littered the footpaths and flows back into the drains. Some of it flows freely on the roads too, increasing the dining options for rodents. They now can choose to dine in "open-air-restaurants" rather than being confined to the usual dim-lit-guttery-candle-light dinners.

And the free boat rides that the above-mentioned SMS refers to is a rare annual chance to retrieve some benefit from the Sarkar in return for the taxes that we pay. If one is lucky he/she could also find some floating treasure navigating the "scented"  Black Waters.

Having said this there is certainly something special about rains that makes you forget the whole World. You fall in love with yourself  when inspite of your expensive, protective, beautiful, painstakingly-selected umbrella over your head, you get  dripping-drenched from head to toe.

You love the wind that blows away your scarf, stole or dupatta, upturning your folding umbrella, as it sweeps you off your feet,  while the heavily pouring rain joins hands with gravity to keep you from flying away !!!

Sharing an umbrella is another blessing that comes down straight from the Heavens alongwith the heavy divine shower. You cannot get more memorably close to your loved one than under a shared umbrella.  Raj Kapoor and Nargis have immortalised these moments of ambrosial nostalgia  on the silver screen long ago for us to celebrate with every shower of rain.

I am sitting in my verandah,  the  rain , taking a breather  has stopped lashing against the ornate wooden railing for a while ........... and the sight before my eyes is like a dream.
Cascading milky water falls among dark green hills, grey clouds floating luxuriously kissing and caressing the happy, smiling, thriving bounties of Nature... rain drops falling from the tree leaves like an adorable after-thought charming the senses...
And the romantic aroma of boiling corn in the kitchen  tickling my taste buds and completing this picturesque rainy day.

Moments that never pass

Some memories are strangely precious because even in the pain that they cause they are dear to us.
we just can't let them go as they are our last and only link with some of the most loved persons whom we will never see again.

Time is forever on the move....or so they say....
But we ceaselessly attempt to hold some moments close to our heart.
Frozen in time, they give us warmth whenever we go back to them.

Parents are one's best support in difficult times. They fight with the whole world  resiliently for their children and never ever complain of the injury it causes to their soul. My parents too stood behind me like a rock, not bothering what the world was saying after my husband expired prematurely.

My father even left his prestigious overseas assignments with TCS to come and stay in Allahabad and help me look after my late husband's business after his relatives turned hostile and the business was into a huge debt....
Those were terribly tough times....my children in classes four and eight ....and my in-laws ready to take me and my minor children to court (which they eventually did) over my husband's assets.

My father suffered his first heart problem there....  one of the best cardiologist in Lucknow examined him.... prescribed some tests , which he did not bother to undergo....naturally thinking that his health problems were related to situational stress and age, and that it could not be anything serious.
"These specialist have a habit of making a mountain out of an ant-hill" he would say.

Later after much of the ordeal was over  and we had just shifted to Mumbai, he had to be hospitalised. The doctors informed us  that his heart was failing.
It left  the family utterly shocked, but everyone knew of his fighting spirit.
It had been  his destiny to take the path less-travelled . Even professionally he had been forever entrusted with responsibilities that others, much senior to him would not touch. But God had gifted him with a wonderful smile, that came from his innocent heart, and he always succeeded in winning his toughest adversary.
 
But this time he was up against the strongest adversary that there could be.
Destiny itself.

Gradually his condition  deteriorated. Yet  none of us ever imagined he was going away.....
Till the end it was like "he'll be ok", he has been always so strong, has been there for everyone , family members knew he was the dependable one.....
But he had to hospitalised  a second time. And this time too he came back home although not very strong, but fairly well.

Then he started moving about slowly, sitting on the sofa or in the chair listlessly. Then the movements began to stop. He seemed to be at peace lying in bed, not wanting much....at times he seemed too lethargic even to get up for food. And then his voice began to choke.

But all this never for a moment  prepared us for his end.
We took him to the hospital, confident once again of his astounding will power .
So muchh so that when the attending doctor in the ICU called me in to inform that the ventilator is not helping and  its only a matter of some minutes now, I just stared in her face blankly .... dazed and numb....not believeing her even for a second, I started arguing with the doctor trying hard to prove her wrong....!!!

I still remember  my dearest father's face....his seemingly "comfortable" posture .... that subtle hint of acknowledgement as I greeted him that last time.........I'm not sure if he was trying to say something....but yes! his eyes, very wide and unblinking had a lot of concern in them.....concern for the unresolved issues of my life, concern for my children's future.......
He still had so much to do.....but he was going away.......
Prematurely indeed !!!!!
It was so completely impossible for me to believe that I was seeing him for the last time.........

My husband's death had devastated  my children and me. But my parents' support and  sacrifice had seen us through  those shattering times.....
Now life for us was changing again....... it really is never the same .....how can it ever be............ time is always on the move......and so is life......

But some moments never pass.

Dearest "Bootler"! We will miss you

"Bootler" finally rests in peace.

His controversial and rather dictatorial existence at my parents' home, which was nothing short of a cold war (between his sympathisers and opponents) has come to an end. And I am left with  mixed feelings.
While it is a relief to see his suffering come to an end, it also now seems like the loss of a dear one.

"Bootler" usually managed to antagonise everyone except my elder brother and his family, specially my younger nephew who was so totally devoted to this innocent-looking chicken from the moment it landed in their third-floor apartment as a gift from a well wisher.

As a chick "Bootler" was very cute, all pearly white and oh-so-lovable. And as he moved about unhindered, he resembled a small round ball of feathers making its way playfully around the spacious apartment. That is how he got the name "Bootler" ( my brother's rather strange  coinage for "someone short " )
"Bootler" soon became the most sought-after "toy" and every child who visited my parents' place wanted to spend time with him, feed him, play with him....
In fact some children accompanied their moms only on the condition that they would be allowed to play with "Bootler".

He was a wonderful flyer...and that was one magnificent sight : to see him in flight...perfect and almost ethereal !!!
Often while searching for food among the plants he would fly over to the pine trees in the near-by park....or hide among the folliage of the mango tree  that the neighbour patronised.
But come evening, and he was sincerely back home.

I am sure "Bootler" enjoyed all that attention.  I have not studied animal psychology, but it is  my strong apprehension that the popularity bloated his little head. He was growing up well physically, but his manners were taking a dip. He started pouncing on the children who so affectionately tried to caress his plumage. At times he would sting them with his claws or his hard sharp beak.
He grew big and shall I say a bit scary....
And then there came a time when he had to be left alone on the terrace of the building all through the day and brought back to keep in captivity through the night.

But this did not deter my younger nephew who became even more fond of "Bootler", devoting every minute of his spare time looking after the now lonely "Bootler". Feeding him, shampooing his abundant mass of off-white feathers, cleaning his dwelling and so much more.
They graduated from being the best of friends  to becoming soul mates .

Like the Sun that rises, comes to a glorious peak and then slowly sets down, "Bootler" too began sinking in time. The first signs of deterioration came with a bulge in his leg. He lost his gait. Then he began to loose his balance.  His pearly white ferthers became muddy in colour. His comb crumpled and faded. He could hardly move.
And when my nephew picked him up, all one saw was a mass of muddy feathers. Even the head was not visible most of the time.

One could not help but feel sorry for  "Bootler", and forgive the dear-little-terror that he had once-upon-a-time been.
And then his suffering became  unbearably painful. My nephew and his mother literally prayed for him and were still praying by his side when "Bootler" breathed his last.

Now he rests in peace.
But will surely be missed for a long time.

Off The Camera

Aseem Chhabra in his column titled "More than Meets the eye"  in Mumbai Mirror Sunday (20/05/2012) says "The picture of an angry SRK at Wankhede Stadium may not represent the complete picture".
He also mentions in his writeup that he cannot forget something London based writer and filmmaker Nasreen Munni Kabir had said to him.
She had in fact said in Urdu: "Shah Rukh bahot shareef aadmi hai"

Chhabra ji himself has met SRK on several occasions and has been impressed with the earnestness displayed by the superstar.

Well, I am inclined to believe Nasreen ji and Chhabra ji.. But the generosity , the kindness, the earnestness...whatever....

could be an act carried out brilliantly by the actor for the media.
Nasreen ji was making documenteries "The Inner/Outer World of Shah Rukh Khan" and so it was quite natural for SRK to be putting on his best for her.
Ditto for Aseem Ji.

 

But I had to pause in the midst of my critical analysis of the "aaj-ka---Raa.One-ish-father-

guardian" behaving so irresponsibly at  Wankhede Stadium.

Yesterday afternoon the late Ajit Saheb's daughter-in-law narrated a seemingly trivial anecdote as we sat chatting after a late Sunday brunch. Pondering over it again and again I think there could well be more than meets the eye.

It seems Ajit Saheb was taking a stroll along the Band Stand area  one morning when a car stopped politely near him.
Not really taking much notice he kept his comfortable pace inhaling the salty sea breeze.

 

There from behind him came a dew-fresh Shah Rukh. He greeted Ajit Saheb with a bow, asking for his blessings, and not forgetting to mention how happy he was to see the senior actor.
Ajit Saheb had at that time retired from films and in fact shifted to Hyderabad, visiting Mumbai only occasionally.
Needless to say Ajit Saheb was very impressed with Shah Rukh's humility and courtesy.
 

Therefore Ajit Saheb's daughter-in-law cannot figure out why SRK would turn so arrogant at a pulic place, risking his well-groomed image, under the hostile glare of scores of cameras. He is a superstar, an extremely gifted entertainer and a completely devoted family man.
Why would he go out of his way to spoil his image in the eyes of his fans?

Being nice to Ajit Saheb had come naturally to SRK. It was neither for the media to write how abbsolutely respectful SRK was, nor was it to ask for any favour from Ajit Saheb. It was truly and selflessly for the gratification of his own soul.

So is there really something more than meets the eye....????

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Okay guys! I've shared this information not because I want to stand solidly behind SRK (I'm sure he can stand on his own much like a rock!!! ) but because I'm a big show-off and I want people to know of my friendship with Ajit Saheb's family :)) !!!!!
 

 

 

 

Glamourised Suffering

The Nation is raving about "Satyamev Jayate". Aamir Khan's latest drama.
From fairly intelligent, respectful intellectuals to ordinary school drop-out taxi-drivers, everyone wants to register their views and shower the actor with praises.

I am sorry Aamir Khaan Saheb. You still fail to charm me. Not that it matters to you. But then you don't matter to me either. A man who  sermons on social behaviour for a huge fee does not make  a perfect  social crusader ... I can't help but pity the innocence of the masses who seem to love the glamourisation of serious issues like female foeticide and child sexual abuse because the presence of Aamir Khan is doing only that much : Glamorisation of pain

People are generally delighted to see Aamir Khaan on their TV screens, the channel is happy with the TRPs. The Nation listens to horrific experiences of the victims along with Aamir. And this is not all. Sridevi arrives to grace Aamir's show ( how much does she charge for this we would not know  ) to fulfill the wish of a victim....What a special treat this is.... !!!!
The programme gets over. Everyone goes out of their way  praising Aamir !!!!!!!
 And Satyamev Jayate is now available as Airtel Hello tune.

FB and Twitter is abuzz with the details of how Aamir carried himself and  what will the topic of his episode ..... and of course th producers of the show know that it better be more "masala" filled than the previous one ....  Can there be a better example of ruthless  indifference to human suffering ....a more insulting injury to the souls that are already so deeply scarred...?????

We have already proved ourselves to be politically irreparably dumb and now we are proving  beyond doubt to be shamefully inhuman too.
.....................................................................................................................................................................

PS :
This was some time back .... Now the show is back .... And National Elections are not far .... Lets see what is for sale this time ....

The Divine Saviour

The old Bombay-Poona Road is now thankfully less frequented. But till a few years ago it used to be fatigued and over-burdened with traffic. On its either side, just as it begins the climb up the Western Ghats lies a luxuriously sprawling residential colony. The place where I spent a beautiful part of my carefree childhood.

Imposing stone bungalows with large french windows and huge doors. High ceilings and open verandahs. Vastly spread-out lawns and colourful flower-beds. The bright golden sunrises and the dusky orange sunsets. Monsoons filled with misty grey clouds , romantic green valleys and mountains and the aroma of adrak-waali-chaai
It was a dreamland.

Schools were about two kilometers down in Khopoli or a few kilometers up in Khandala.
Most families preferred the school in  Khopoli, which ran in two shifts.
Morning and Afternoon.
And two languages : English and Marathi.

The Company bus made school trips to facilitate the residents. My mother was a teacher in the English medium school.
She and my younger siblings used to go for the morning shift.

One morning Mummy was waiting with her twins at their usual spot for the bus under the huge Old Peepal Tree, near the Gol Park a little away from  the edge of the road. Traffic on the Bombay-Poona Road was picking up as the morning got brighter. Swift and slick cars smartly moving past the heavily loaded trucks labouriously making way to reach their destinations.

Perhaps she had seen the bus coming because Mummy moved away taking the children along from where they had been standing, reaching closer to the place where the bus was supposed to stop. They had not taken much note of the truck that was coming down a little faster than the rest of the vehicles, till it nose-dived crashing into the boundary of the Gol Park under the Peepal Tree.

Dazed to numbness the three of them stood motionless as the the truck-driver and his companion struggled to get themselves out avoiding the broken pieces of glass. Ignoring their own bruises they straightened themselves. And then the driver spoke.
He said: "As the brakes failed and I lost control, I saw you all standing exactly on the spot where I knew my vehicle would collide ... had no way of cautioning you ... the only option was to ask God's help ..."
And then I saw you move away with kids ... Oh! My God ... what a relief that was... !!! "
To say it in his words:
"Eishwar hain ... aur wo hi bachatey hain ..."
Yes he could have honked incessantly, but he admitted that it did not strike him !!!!!

Miracles were not the privilege of Prophets alone
They happen even today with prayer and will power 🙏

(Me ... Many years later ... at the spot where Mummy and my siblings were standing that morning ... Pic clicked by my sister ... It was actually she who was with Mummy at this place that day 😊 )

Lamhey

Guzartey lamho'n par jo achanak nazar padi
Thithak gaye,  rukk gaye hum  chaltey chaltey

Har lamha yahan bas ek lamhe ka hai mehmaan
Jaaney waale pe koi zor nahi aaney waale se zindgi anjaan

Ye safar jis ko zindgi kaha hum ne
Lamha-lamha martey huay lamho'n ka janaza sa lagti hai

Wo lamha jo haath se phisal gaya, gaya sadaa ke liye
To kya milay gi zindgi jo khud phisaltey huay lamhon se hai bani


By Sahila

Naa-ummid si ek Ummid

Ummid thi ke shaaed uss bheed mein
Naqaabon ke parey koi apna hoga

Koi aisa jis ki ek jhalak ke liye maano sadiyon se
Dil yun tadpa hai ke jaise koi na kabhi tadpa hoga

Beqaraar si nazrein talaash karti rahiin baarha uss ko
Na jaane kahan hoga wo, kis haal mein hoga, kaisa hoga

Yaad karta bhi hai mujh ko kabhi ya ke phir bhool gaya
Wo tha aisa hi, magar main ne ye samjha tha ke mera hoga

Saal dar saal karvaan e ziist chal to raha hai bin uss ke
Phir bhi ek aas lagi hai ke agar mil jaaye kisi roz to kaisa hoga......

(By Shazia)

Life moves on

With technology entering every space of our life in the past few years the world has become a really small place. The way we eat, work, study, shop, socialise, entertain, all of it and more has changed, and changed really fast.
The advent of an infinite number of social networking sites and cell phones has revolutionised the way we meet and interact with people and make friends. It also means that relationships are not the same now. Is it any wonder then that in the new scenario love and relationship have also been redefined.

But as we become more literate and theoratically more knowledgeable about what love really is and what an ideal relationship should be like, emotions and feelings seem to have lost their depth,  becoming hilariously pathetic and superficial. So much so that at times their true meaning (if there ever was any) has been totally distorted.

Everyday one receives SMSes defining love and relationship and everyday users on public networking sites try to outdo one another with similar messages and posts.

"Relationship is like Taj Mahal. Everyone sees how beautiful it is, but no one realises how difficult it was to build"

"We love because it is the only true adventure"

"Love is friendship set on fire"

"May be love is like luck. You have to go all the way to find it"

"Relationship is like a violin. The music may stop now and then, but the strings remain attached."

"Love is the master key that opens the gates to happiness"

"All relations in the world are like insurance policy....We have to pay the premium of love and care to keep it going"

And this one I got yesterday in Hindi asks a question...an important one...
"Jeevan ka sab se bada nuqsaan tab hota hai jab hum jeevit hotey hain, lekin hamare rishtey marr jaatey hain...parr ye rishtey martey kyon hain....?"

Sometime back a friend had sent me an SMS which said "A relationship never dies naturally. It is always murdered"
And if this is true, then the question is who is the murderer?

Losses are always emotionally disturbing. Good-byes can be killing. But like time, relationships also see changes as they grow (or stagnate) with the passage of days, months and years. Time is never the same. Circumstances are never the same. But a rock-solid relationship built on mutual trust and patience usually sails through rough waters as diligently as it does when the weather is good and the sailing is smooth.

However such relationships are few and built reciprocally over a period of time. And it is immaterial if such a relationship is virtual or real. What matters is understanding and nurturing, in the absence of which even an apparently healthy-looking relationship may become weak and sick. And then it will not be surprising if it succumbs to neglect and suffer a humiliating death.

I think it would save a lot of misery if one can recognise the decay when it sets in and try to reverse the process. But if that does not work, then a whole lot of parting pain can be avoided if people move on with dignity, because if someone makes you miserable more than they make you happy, it does not matter how much you love them, you need to let them go.
One must realise that going to get a new start is by no means easy, but it is the right thing to do when a story has ended.
And of course it does give a lot of comfort to know that  even if a relationship is "murdered" (as mentioned above),  the murderer has to still live with it  because relation itself never dies.....it rises from the ashes like the legendary Phoenix, and manifests itself in another , may be even better form.

Where is the Finishing Line

"Paan Singh Tomar" Said my son when I asked him to recommend a good film.
He had to repeat the name at least thrice before I got it right !!!
"What a name-and-a-half...!!!" I blurted out
"Google it" He suggested.
I didn't. Was not very impressed. As it is, these days films have been mostly  atrocious cultural shocks that my traditional taste buds find too harsh on the digestive system.

But my son insisted I see it, and living upto my  Oh-So-Obedient Mother image, I obeyed.
And what a wonderful experience it was!
An absolutely brilliant film, "Paan Singh Tomar" is a sheer delight for anyone seeking good cinema.

Irrfan is all over the screen. Bursting with talent, he is a masterpiece in himself. But my respectful salutation to Tigmanshu Dhulia for choosing a subject as off-beat as "Paan Singh Tomar" and making such an honest film that brings to life a legend the Nation chose to not just forget but ruthlessly dump into unsung darkness and untold helplessness.

Paan Singh has an amazing range....easily any actor's dream role. But indeed at present I cannot think of anyone but Irrfan doing justice to it.
Paan Singh Tomar was a man of tremendous courage and explicit honesty. He believed in the law of the land and trusted with full conviction that whatever the odds truth would always win. But when that trust was shattered, he grabbed the law by its neck and twisted it in his very own characteristic style, and achieved the goal for which he crossed the line from being an extremely disciplined soldier/athlete to becoming a rather egoistic fugitive/dacoit.

Paan Singh Tomar would have been perfect had he not been a human being. But unfortunately he was a human being so he had his very humane (read self-destructive) imperfections. He ran the extremely demanding 3000 meter marathons.
For him a  race was a race. It did not matter where he was running it. However he never realised that every race has a finishing point. One must leave the ground after a race is over and move on....

Paan Singh Tomar won many races in National and International events. But when it came to life, he inadvertently got caught in a race where even after reaching the finishing line he kept running....ahead, ahead, ahead........going nowhere........

The Teeth and The Tongue

A friend sent me this beautiful quotation the other day : "No matter how many times the teeth bite the tongue, they still stay together in one mouth. This is the spirit of Forgiveness."
Oh! How lovely this sounds.
Of course to the one who is seeking forgiveness.
Does it mean then that the tongue should go on bearing the bite? Does it mean that one must go on forgiving a wrongdoer eternally?

How long does one sacrifice one's self respect in order to accomodate a friend's ego?

So this teeth-and-tongue quote remained in my thoughts through the day. And as I shared it with a couple of friends, I kept pondering over the fate of the soft and silent tongue.
The teeth, hard and sharp as they are, surely came across as the annoying bully who kept troubling a quiet and serene tongue. The similarity to human beings was indeed striking. A kind and quiet person is most likely cornered into isolation by a cunning and conniving lobbyist if the former chooses to assert himself on a conflicting issue. This revelation was discomforting because it meant that the bully will always have his way. The teeth will always bite the tongue. And the poor pained tongue had no place to go.

How far and how long would this play.....?
And then the legendary "bandd-aqal-ka-taala" opened... I smiled to myself thinking of the fate of the "hard-and-strong-thirty-two"
With the passage of time don't they fall off one by one naturally?
But the tongue always remains unhurt, unharmed... So no matter how many times the teeth bite the tongue, they still stay together in one mouth.... till the tongue's silence is rewarded and the teeth bow out.... forever... :))

Mere saath hi rehna hoga...

Wo dil jis mein hai yaad teri, mere paas hai, mere paas rahega
Lekin wo waqt jo saath guzaara tha tere
Uss ko to guzarna hoga...

Wo jo baatein tum se hua karti thiin, sadaa yaad rahengi mujh ko
Haan! wo lamhe jo gawaah thay unn baato'n ke
Unn ko to guzarna hoga...

Wo jagah aaj bhi hai tum ne jahan baagh lagaaye thay kabhi
Par wo baharein jin ki wajah tum thay
Unn ko to guzarna hoga...

Zakhm teri judaai ka, teri yaad ka tazaa hai, rahega har dum
Kal se hua aaj, aaj ban jaaega kal, waqt rukta nahi
Uss ko to guzarna hoga...

Saath tere mera bachpan bhi gaya, ek khal'a-a chhod gaya
Dhoondhta kya hoon, na aayengey wo pal
Unn ko to guzarna hoga...

Laakh chaha ke dafan kar doon tere saath mein yaadein teri
Ye na ho paya magar, mere jeenay ka sahara hain ye
Inn ko mere saath hi rehna hoga........

(By Ghazala)