गणपती बाप्पा मोरया....पुढच्या वर्षी लवकर या!

आज बाप्पा परतीच्या प्रवासाला निघणार. अगदी थोर ते बाल वयोगटातील मित्र मंडळी खिन्न मनाने त्याच्या सांगतेची तयारी करतात. आहेच असा तुमचा, आमचा आणि आपल्या सगळ्यांचा 'बाप्पा'! अंगाने अवजड पण चेहऱ्यावरचे भाव बालीश आणि लोभस.

मोरया रे बाप्पा मोरया रे...

कशी एक मूर्ती, आपल्या घराची शोभा द्विगुणित करतो हे कोडे आजतागायत उलगडले नाही. गणेशोत्सवाचे दहा दिवस म्हणजे 'लाईव्ह' नेटवर्किंग काय असते हे पटवून देते आणि त्याची सुरुवात म्हणजे गल्लीतले किंवा चाळीतले किंवा सोसायटीतले तरुण मंडळी वर्गणी जमवतात, दारोदारी जाऊन. गणेश स्थापना, सकाळ - संध्याकाळ ची आरती, सगळ्या वयोगटातील मंडळीसाठी स्पर्धा, काही ठिकाणी 'फन फेर', ह्या दहा दिवसांत कधीही न दिसलेले चेहरे चक्क हसताना आणि कार्यक्रमात सहभागी होताना दिसतात. अचानक गल्लीतले किंवा चाळीतले किंवा सोसायटीतले काही फारसे 'गुड फोर नथिंग' तरुण मंडळी अत्यंत धडाडीचे नेतृत्व करताना दिसतात, कुठली मॕनेजमेंट स्कूल असा क्रॕश कोर्स देईल? माझा आवडीचा भाग म्हणजे संध्याकाळची आरती! काय तो कमालीचा तल्लीन पणा, दिवसभराचा क्षीण त्या 'टाळ्या-घंटी-करपूर' ह्या त्रिकुटात विलीन होत. उकडीचे मोदक कोण विसरेल बरं?

इतका आनंद, उदंड उत्साह आणि मनाला प्रसन्नता देणाऱ्या बाप्पा ला कोणाला सोडावा वाटेल? तो जाताना चैतन्य घेऊन जाईल!

मला काही राहावेना, मी बाप्पाला म्हणाले, 'प्लीज जाऊ नकोस रे, पुन्हा आमचं आयुष्य रटाळ होऊन बसेल, हे असं लाईव्हली वातावरण राहणार नाही. तु पुन्हा एक वर्षानंतर येणार तोपर्यंत आम्ही हा सगळा आनंद, उत्साह  विसरून जाऊ. नको ना जाऊ रे'.

बाप्पा एक मोदक खात म्हणाला, 'ह्ममम्, फारच टेस्टी आहे. अगं मी परत येणार आहे पुढच्या वर्षी. मी जाताना तुम्हा सगळ्यांचे प्रेम घेऊन जातो आणि जेव्हा त्याचा साठा संपतो मी परत येतो, तसंही तुम्हा माणसांना आवडीची गोष्ट लिमिटेड मिळालेलीच बरी असते!'

बाप्पाचं हे म्हणणे मला पटले, ह्या दहा दिवसांचा आनंद आणि उत्साह आपल्याला वर्षेभर पुरेल आणि प्रेरणा देत राहिल.

मी बाप्पाला नमस्कार करुन निघत होतेच तेवढयात बाप्पा म्हणाला, 'अगं, पुढच्या वर्षी तुमच्या मंडळाला सुचव की मला 'ईको फ्रेन्डली' स्वरूपात आणण्याचे आणि हो नो डाॕल्बी प्लीज!'

मी बाप्पाला हाय-फाईव्ह दिला आणि सुखकर प्रवासासाठी शुभेच्छा देत म्हणाले, 'गणपती बाप्पा मोरया....पुढच्या वर्षी लवकर या!'

The Story of rain droplets - Aimless to Determination.

Ever since Raveena started working as an intern as a part of her Masters course in Journalism, she started feeling responsible and focused. The difficult child that she had been throughout, she now was learning to mellow down. Working with a brilliant creative team at 'The Bombay Times', she found a new meaning to her life. She started commuting through local trains; her journeys became more interesting as she started observing her commuter mates nearly, anything could be a story now. She was this bud who was desperate to bloom, she was every bit of that jet of water flowing through the narrowed nozzle cleaning dusty leaves and branches in the garden, she was just like those rain droplets; still and determined on the window pane of her car, once upon a time!

A few months ago, this wasn't the case. Raveena was passionless, clueless about her frigidity, she had no dreams and had lost all her charm. She was just like that little flower in the vase which wilted due to insufficient water. There was something going in her mind that she couldn't express. She had a fantastic life, a life of a princess but she lacked motivation, lacked determination and had lost her creativity. Anything in excess is poisonous and that was the case with her. Love, care, money and freedom whatever one could have asked for was served on her platter. Her new I-phone 6 failed to enchant her, that I-pad to which she was always glued to was no more drawing her attention, a chauffeur driven car had become a golden cage for her – she had a privilege to open the doors of this cage and free herself! A life that made all her friends jealous and were ready to trade for but within, Raveena was losing herself inch by inch every day.

A normal Sunday evening, showers hitting on her car's window pane, Raveena could relate herself to those drops which were trickling down and aimlessly making a path to settle down under the influence of wind. They had no choice, even if they wanted to stay there on the glass, they couldn't! Then with the harsh wind, slapped a poly bag on the window shattering all those droplets. What a life! She looked at Jolly, her driver who was driving with concentration, hands steering the wheel and head straight on his neck. The small teddy hung around the car mirror was dancing, wipers were moving faster and faster again crushing those droplets. The car stopped, the red signal light looked hazy as though it was dissolving in that rain. Suddenly there was a knock on the window pane, a girl in her early teens drenched in the rains, wearing a frock that was wet and hugging her body stood with some bestseller novels neatly wrapped in a transparent poly cover was trying to look at Raveena through the window pane. 

Raveena pulled the glass down and looked at her. She was attractive, wheatish with her nose pierced, hair braided in two pleats with red ribbons and a prominent bindi between her eyebrows on her forehead. The girl was shivering but determined to sell her books.

Raveena asked her quickly, 'Naam kya hain tumhara?' (What is your name?)

The girl answered, 'Gehna'.

Raveena then questioned, 'School jaati ho?' (Do you go to school?)

Gehna with a light in her eye answered, 'Night school jati hoon roz' (I study in a night school)

The rain had stopped and signal changed from red to orange. Raveena quickly slid on the other side of the seat and opened the door, asked Gehna to get in before signal changes to green! Jolly was confused but he didn't utter a word, he took his position, hands steering wheel and head straight on his neck.

Raveena then gave a flannel to Gehna to dab that dripping water at least. Gehna with wide eyes was looking at the interiors of the car. This car was the best place she saw till date, spotless! 

Raveena then asked Gehna, 'Why do you sell books on roads? Do your parents ask you to do this?’

Gehna first dried that poly cover and then rubbing that flannel on her hands she said, 'Thank you for this ride in your car. I like your car very much and you are very beautiful. My parents are no more, they both passed away last monsoon, probably drowned in a manhole, don't know what happened. I live with my Maasi (mother's sister) and she has no children. She earns enough to live a life and saves a little so that I can attend night school. My parents always dreamed that I will read and write books, very big books. After they passed away, I decided to sell books and this earning would help my Maasi too.'

Gehna was still wet, her eyes and eyelashes were moist, looking at Raveena she smiled. and said, ' I want to grow up and become a writer, want to write big books and fulfill my parents dreams.' 

Jolly was listening but didn't express. Raveena absorbed every word, something moved her 
and something motivated her. 

Gehna then keeping her books on her lap innocently asked to Raveena, 'Didi, what do you want to do when you grow up? Do you also want to write books like me?'

Raveena said nothing, she herself didn't know the answer but this question was enough to stir her. 

She simply said, 'I love to read and want to buy all these books from you.'

She was glad that she met Gehna and Gehna was very happy to have been able to sell all her books. At the next signal, Gehna alighted and bid a good bye to Raveena.  The sky was clear, rain drops were just like pearls sitting on the window pane, the cocktail of sublimed lights through these pearl droplets was mesmerizing, droplets looked determined for once and so was Raveena. 

Sometimes a good-bye is essential, that good-bye was actually a new beginning, a new journey for Raveena. A journey full of motivation, determination and passion. 

Most of the times, it takes an incident or a moment or a story like this to jolt you, bring in self-realization. Determination never dies, it only gets buried somewhere under a mound and an incident, a moment or a story like these scavenge through this mound and dig out Determination- just like that rain, aimless droplets and Gehna evoked long lost 'Determination' in Raveena. 

Determined droplets 

A Bend in the River - my perspective

It was always on my mind to read Sir V S Naipaul’s work for reasons unclear. It could be because he is bestowed with Noble Prize in literature and of Indian origin or vice versa. The recent book I read of him was - A bend in the River. Terrific. Brilliant. Masterpiece. I so much like his style of writing that I am determined to read all his work. A few days ago there was a small article on top 100 books to read and this book is the 90^th and now I am well aware of why it found a place in top 100’s.

The story in short:

The character Salim, Indian Muslim born in Africa witnesses the post-colonial transformations with new government who also bring in bureaucracy and corruption. Salim is deeply affected by all this but he is flexible to adapt change, adapt new people and new Africa. His friend Indar who goes to London for higher education leaves him jealous and insecure but Salim overcomes that and is happy with his own small shop. Mahesh and Shobha are his friends from India with whom he eats and hangs out. Though they are friends, there is always a distance between them. Mahesh has his own way of doing things and is highly influenced by Shobha, largely this couple is a typical hypocrite and so is Salim. Sir Naipaul, beautifully points out the hypocrisy that governs Indian mindset from every angle. How Mahesh and Shobha aren’t affected by the changing situations is surprising. There is Zabeth, an African woman who buys stationary from Salim and possesses mystic powers. Ferdinand is her son who is initially difficult to get on with but later emerges as a very thoughtful person but cannot escape from the consequences of changing Africa. People like Raymond and Evette, man and woman, live in a pseudo life where Evette cheats on Raymond for Indar and Salim. Finally with growing threat in Africa, Salim is forced to flee leaving his shop, flat and car; in short without nothing he sets on a voyage for new life. Sir Naipaul is brilliant in portraying the characters, situations and everything kind of happens in front of you while reading. Corruption, rebellious youth, an opportunist leader and common people - the story touches every aspect and stirs the reader.

I couldn’t stop thinking that why has it always been about power? What right does any community or country have over other community and country? Is 'Immigration' such a risk? if not financially then emotionally? A person of a different culture moves, adapts and settles in a new country, amongst new people and new culture but still tries his best to retain his own, whatsoever changes he adapts and tries to be a loyal new citizen of a different culture and country , he still is insecure! He will never be an indigenous. Sir Naipaul beautifully brings up the controversial lifestyle of third world and first world countries but what is to remember is that all these third world countries have always been invaded, ruled and exploited by first world countries. If development, reformation and prosperity comes only by dominating others then I would prefer to always be a third world country citizen. What one needs to understand is after churning out butter from these third world countries and when nothing more was left, they were orphaned to deal with corruption and the worst of all - poverty! 

The story is all about how Africans were shipped as slaves, the Arabs ruling Africa before Europeans, effect of post-colonial developments affecting the immigrants. It is very important to realise that when a country is ruled or colonised, is orphaned after milking out all benefits just like sugarcane molasses! All colonies were left to deal with poverty, racism, corruption and illiteracy. It was only today that I watched the famous debate rhetoric speech by Dr Tharoor in Oxford, where he slapped 200 years of extortion during colonisation on Brits in 15 minutes of his speech. The most agreeable point is that not only financial, cultural and social damages are being done but ‘moral damage’ done cannot be compensated. The Europeans, Americans were busy developing, reforming and we Indians were fighting for our rights to live freely in our own country. Why Indian research or African research hasn’t attained those heights?  Most of the scientific findings, research was done during that time where people in colonies were illiterate and their resources were diverted to the ruling countries, this is the promenade reason why European countries have prospered in every aspect. Colonies were stuck in fighting for basics. Even before the Brits stepped on Indian soil, caste-ism was prevalent in India but when they left we were buried under the heap of discrimination on basis on colour, caste and gender, poverty; bureaucracy, opportunistic politicians who introduced corruption; in short it was a chaos!

The damage has been done, people who did bad are no more alive but we have our country and freedom, we have resources and we have a vision. To cry over spilled milk is a waste of time. This is not only about India but for all colonies; it is difficult but not impossible! 

Virtual Yug

Today this obvious struck me, probably my subconscious compartment in brain notices this everyday but today my brain cells took a special note of this obvious. You must be wondering, what this obvious is? Wherever I am, on business, travelling, leisure, all people around me are buried in their fancy gadget called smart phone - all heads down! On train, heads down in this so called smart phones made by smart human. Once upon a time, honest confession that the time without a smart phone was so 'my time'! I enjoyed being where I am absorbing everything around me and living in the present moment, I appreciated sudden weather changes that taught me to accept any change, I never wanted to update and declare to friends and acquaintances about my whereabouts, I never clicked atrocious selfies as my idea of fun wasn't about making silly faces. In short I enjoyed my company if alone or enjoyed being with family and friends.

We all accept that life has changed with technology but technology at disposal and so easily accessible is drawing us apart from being human. We unfortunately need social networking to prove that we are social animals. I again bring an issue of living in a first world country, life is moving with the help of technology but are we being enslaved by it? Are we getting addicted to it? These are some questions to ask. Everyday I walk passing Starbucks, people in there buy those status defining mugs of hot drinks, take their seat and are immersed in their robotic devices, I don't understand this at all. For me a cup of tea is unwinding, its a bonus if I have people around to chat with that cuppa, I am yet very Indian. On serious note, this head down position might get you in trouble named Spondylitis.

Has anybody thought that these man made electronic gadgets are controlling us! We need a smiley to convey our emotions, we need social networking to express our feelings - in a minute we may feel blessed or happy or determined or hungry! Common you don't need Internet to make you realise that you are hungry, it is pure biology. Your stomach and brain coordinate and then you realise about your hunger. Well I am no exception, as I keep on declaring about books I read and movies I watch but never would I update about feeling hungry or thirsty or blah blah blah.

What am I trying to emphasize on?- smart phones? Internet?  Gadgets? Not really, this is all about living in a virtual world. Bhagvad Gita mentions about Satyug and Kalyug but never about Virtual Yug, needs to be deeply thought. Let's make a resolution that we use technology for good,  for convenience. Today, where world is one place and people are hopping around the globe, technology connects us in the form of whatsapp, FB, Twitter, Gmail through these gadgets but trust me the warmth of a hug, happiness when laughter shared, sorrow fades on crying together is much effective than living in a virtual world.

There is a debate if Einstein ever said this but nonetheless, it perfectly defines Virtual Yug.

The current scenario, each family member has his own gadget - this stops you from understanding the concept of sharing, withdraws you from others, forces you to live in your own virtual bubble. I wonder at times, will our next generation ever realise the importance of meeting people/friends/family in flesh and blood!? Or will they prefer doing this virtually? Not to forget, we can talk, dance, sing and do every possible thing that defines that human are social animals, if we stop doing this then soon we would be creating mini robots, with no feelings and emotions but only virtual love and life.

Hold your head up, high and straight,
Let your eyes see the world around,
Let your senses be in your control,
Be ready to explore the world,
With yourself and not with your phone! 

Bye bye Maggi..

Brace yourself for this little nostalgic ride. Those school days and especially Sundays that usually was an official television day. As much as those cartoons were an indispensable part of Sundays, advertisements played a crucial fun role. Not only me but all of us, children of 80's used to sing in chorus very happily. I still remember that Sunflower oil advertisement - The healthy oil, the healthy people and that rolling big Puri with big gulabjamuns in the background. Do you remember that cute little girl saying, I love you Rasna?! I loved her as much as I loved Rasna. But the most catchy song was 'School se aate Dhoom machate...maggi noodles'. I was jealous of that boy in that jingle happily sitting with a bowl of pipping hot maggi noodles and bending a little, starts sucking up that flavourful delicious string of soft, silky noodle with lips pouted, stomach pulled in. This was so inviting and left me imagine that why my mother never made maggi for us when we came home hungry as dogs from school? Girls with curly hair often got their curls compared to Maggi, some were even nicknamed as Maggi. Maggi became a figure of speech and a proper noun! Such has been the influence and unconditional love for it.

Today, with this life threatening Maggi controversy happening I should thank my mother for not inculcating such habits of indulging in junk food but then at that age my brain wasn't aware of MSG and other preservatives involved in imparting taste and flavour, the harm they were to cause my growing body. Whenever my brother and I went to buy that little something from a nearby kiosk at least I was tempted to buy a pack maggi wrapped in that yellow poly bag, it always lured me. When my friends chatted about gulping down a bowl of maggi, I was jealous but whatever happened to me, my mother was undeterred from her decision of not buying such nonsense with loads of preservatives, instead she emphasised on making home made vermicelli upma and I equally loved that. I confess to have forgotten the lead laden, MSG rich maggi while gulping down that bowl of upma loaded with nutrition, free from preservatives and garnished with Mom's love. Okay, believe it or not I didn't taste maggi until I was 18! Shocked!Me too, when the whole nation and our generation was deeply in love with this little wonder that was damn easy to cook, I was unaware of its taste.

Taste bhi, Health bhi(??) and Lead (Pb) bhi!!!

(Pic from Google images)

It was only when I left home for my higher studies, that I started buying this 2 minute wonder and I was deeply in love with it. Hostel life - midnight hunger pangs - roommates - maggi and coffee, what a life - perfect!!! Then being a science graduate, I read the content but conveniently ignored MSG, probably I was trying to compensate my maggi less childhood. The idea of cooking something in 2 minutes was eloquent enough to bring it in our houses.

Now that the number of working Mums have increased by folds, life is getting busier as ever, the departmental stores are stuffed and overflowing with instant noodles, pot lunches, breakfasts conveniently sidelining home made nutritious snacks. Mornings start with cornflakes packed in boxes but thanks to those numerous dabbawala's for delivering fresh food tiffins. Find a suitable tiffin for your taste buds and you are sorted. To maggi, losing market in India definitely is a substantial loss but if they come up with a remodelled Maggi without preservatives in a biodegradable packing then they will be welcomed open heartedly.

Something irreleavently relevant is not to forget to thank our Indian Moms fully loaded with Indian sentiments, where they believe that cooking and feeding their families is a prime responsibility, she isn't selfish at all and this keeps us going. Well if she isn't able to put up a meal due to her job/career then why can't we expect this from the man of the house? A family that cooks together, eats together is a healthy and happy family.

So now, try cutting on food stuff containing preservatives. The longer shelf life means more preservatives! Indulge into fruits, home cooked foods. An apple enlightened Adam and let this 2 minute maggi enlighten us about good and bad food habits.

Happy and healthy eating to you all :-) 

Gulmohar and drizzles - Life's philosophy

Monsoon has just about entered and a few showers is what would wash away the heat, cool the hot soil and add a little respite to everyone. Bangalore, the city of trees and especially Gulmohar are now eagerly waiting for those cool drops of pearls to fall on them. Not only plants but this summer has been very harsh on Amrita, fondly known as Ammu. She is heart broken and her dreams of living with Shekhar have been completely burnt to ashes. She is waiting for monsoon, monsoon that will lead to streams and puddles outside her apartment in which she could sail her boats with Shekhar's memories, let go his promises, those dreams that never made way to reality, she was eagerly waiting and was proud of being guileless and loyal to her ownself by loving him unconditionally.

Ammu and Shekhar knew it from day one that their relationship won't survive, they were a very modern couple wanting their own space, living their own dreams and more than love and compassion they were together to test if they could withstand each other. For they always knew that there can't be two swords in one sheath.

Albeit this was expected it was hard, it is indeed tough to separate than being together. Shekhar wasn't ready to take a plunge into marriage and Ammu couldn't be persuaded anymore to be in a live in relationship. This was an impasse, both strong believers but of different traits. Without uttering a single word they let go each other, no arguments, no quarrels and no compromises, this is how two strong people dwell in a relationship expecting the expected to happen one day, leaving a void very silently.

Today, Ammu is alone in her posh flat, she was low yet unbroken, firm on her decision. She always believed that the beauty of a rose lies in its thorns and her principles were just like thorns safely guarding her beauty, her soul is beautiful, her love was sacred and her intentions were divine.

Lost deeply in her thoughts, probably figuring what to do next, to do or not to?! What a perplexed state she was in, she has lost her way out of this emotional mesh. The door bell rings and she is jolted back to reality. It is her maid Chaya.

Chaya knows about Shekhar and she always warned Ammu but Love is blind they say and Ammu was completely drenched in his love, she could only see love, sense love and love was what Shekhar meant for her.

Ammu pretends to be normal and asks Chaya, ' Have you lost something valuable Chaya, anytime in your life?'

Chaya exactly is aware of the context and decides to answer. She gazes out of the window and says, ' I lost my mother after a few hours of being born. My father blamed me for her death and never treated me well. My brother, a chauvinist found the same reason and disowned me. Later, as a compromise and no where to go I lived with my father and one fine morning I found myself alone in our house, for me it was never a home. From that day I am all alone and having lost all my relations but decided to live without any guilt or sorrow. Life taught me that you are left with what you are supposed to own and then I realised that I never owned my mother, father and brother.'

Ammu was stunned and speechless, she didn't want to look into Chaya's eyes. For the first time Ammu met someone stronger than her ownself. Ammu exactly knew what she had to do now, she doesn't have Shekhar as she never owned him.

Ammu stood besides Chaya, folding her hands they both stood gazing out of the window, it had started drizzling, aroma of wet soil was mesmerizing, a little birdie shedding off beautiful pearls off its body, dancing rain drops compelled the soil to give away heat, showers had washed away dust layered on leaves of Gulmohar, completely metamorphised it from dull to shiny and glossy new leaf. Gulmohar looked beautiful as never before, clean and ready to breathe fresh, ready to dream and ready to LIVE.....

Childhood memories - a box of treasure

Memories of childhood are etched forever on our hearts and minds. A deja vu is very likely to occur when you see your children growing up repeating something sane-insane without realising if it really makes sense or is an utter nonsense. As a child, in my pre-school or to be more precise, until my primary school days I was someone who was completely unaware if books existed. For me always being outdoors was much adventurous. Well, study being a mandate and I always struggled being an average student. Anyway I have some terrible memories and now when I retrospect, I am disappointed by myself but then I enjoyed being crowned as a tomboy. 

Anyway, coming back to kindergarten days or even before that, we all were introduced to nursery rhymes. Commonly, twinkle twinkle little star is one first rhyme taught to a child whilst gazing at twinkling stars. I absolutely have no memories of which poem I learnt first but my favourite was Chubby cheeks, more because I imagined that I was like the girl in this rhyme, chubby cheeks I had, wasn't very keen on dimpled chin but I must have assumed that the poem perfectly describes me. These nursery rhymes are such an inevitable part of childhood, they compel a child to imagine and believe that each character is surreal and does exist somewhere. Be it black sheep, humpty dumty or Mary with her little lamb,  I am convinced that a child imagines that these characters are living in some parallel world. Funny it is but I always thought that writers have a special hiding place and watch these characters closely before bringing up a story. It is not only about rhymes but some characters in books and comics, which we assumed that we would meet them some day and share a laugh. I always wanted to meet the beautiful princess and sympathize with her about the beast from Beauty and the beast, meet Cinderella and conspire to lock her wicked step mother along with her stupid daughters in a dungeon! I so believed in this fairy tale, I almost fantasised experiencing a similar pour lot in my real life. Who wouldn't have not wanted to visit Wonderland with Alice? Nothing could have been more adventurous than this joy ride!  I won't budge from making a confession today that I was extremely happy when a slow tortoise won a race against the oversmart hare, it just boosted my confidence that one day I, albeit slow in everything would a win a race against myself. Fairy tales taught me to be positive, after a sad day comes a glad day was to be read between the lines. 

              

                                          

                                                  

The only comic book I read was Chacha Chaudhry, a joyous read with tall Sabu who almost looked like an alien and Chacha Chaudhry who looked tiny but definitely so witty and I have always been awestruck with his pagdi and neatly twirled moustaches. Reading this comic was a respite especially in scorching summer afternoons when you had no friend to play with or you had a tiff with your buddy. Sabu and Chacha guaranteed smiles smiles, doses of anti anti-depressants required after a fight with a friend.

                                             

A little more advancement happened when television made an entry in our home. It was only humble doordarahan that was entirely responsible to entertain the entire nation. Oh what lovely serials for children. Tenali Rama ,Oshin, Saara jahan hamara, Ramayana, Mahabharat and so many simple but engaging cartoons like Jungle Book, Alice in wonderland, Singable the sailor, Duck tales with its epics title song Jindagi toofani hain... and adventurous tale of a miser Uncle and his nephew ducks. They all defined our happy SUNDAY and have succeeded to be a part of us till date. 

'Jungle jungle baat chali hain pata chala hain...' is something I try to play it to my daughter as well, it makes me nostalgic and I bet every child who has grown watching it. Mowgli, Radha, Bagheera, Kaa and all other animal characters taught me to love animals, this serial just re-defined relations between human and animals to a school going kid in me, it made relations simple and livable. 

Today as parents, we have a sort of routine rather mandate of reading stories or singing rhymes to our daughter. She loves all this, and for the past few days she has been loving 'Little Boy blue ..come blow your horn...' wherein, Little boy blue is sleeping without his shoes under a haystack and his cows and sheeps are in corns and meadows happily eating. Aadhya tells us to make Little Boy Blue wear a pair of shoes, she thinks Little Boy blue is really sleeping in the book and will wake up to blow his horn calling cows and sheeps back for home. She starts crying because we aren't making any effort of picking up a pair of shoes and is distressed as we are laughing at her innocence. But we love her innocence, we love her imagination, we love her concern for that shepherd boy who is without shoes and what I love the most is the thought that what would she feel about herself when I would narrate this incidence when she is a young girl?! She would feel stupid, cute or proud of her intelligent brain to have imagined this brilliant concept at that age? My only advice to her would be, imagine the impossible and it will grow with you, will be a part of you and will give you some lovely moments to smile or love yourself more.

Little Boy blue without shoes is in deep slumber. Oh! look at that cute cat and rabbit..they all look surreal. 

After all, childhood memories are special and precious and our Apple has just started her journey where she will sow some seeds of imagination and reap some lovely moments that would bring a smile on her face...

Till date whenever dark grey clouds with a silver border gather, I can't stop myself singing Ye Re ye Re paavsa..., or looking at the moon, so calm and a friend of every child, I often hum Chandoba Chandoba bhaaglas ka?

Please share if this write up has touched you and opened a box of such hidden memories?

Chai...Chai and Chai

Even before the thought of waking up strikes my mind when in bed, I start visualizing a hot steamy cup of chai! Am I an addict? Not really but an ardent lover of chai and I bet most of us are. As a teenager I reminisce those days of having chai enjoying cool crisp mornings where flowers of Paarijaat covered a small part of our garden, bird chirping and such solitude. A few more years later, enjoying tea watching sunset and a few more year later chai with friends in college canteen and those non-stop and nonsensical gossips and chats, those were fun days! 

We Indians are hopelessly in love with chai, remember asking your guests if they would prefer chai or coffee? Probably considered as a part of mannerism rather good one if you ask your guests for one and if not then be ready to hear the rant followed by your inhumane behaviour. Something like, how mean he/she was, never asked us for chai! Clearly he/she doesn't know or hasn't been taught to welcome guests...phew. Such is the important of this beverage, which looks inviting in a delicate and decorated China clay chai, or wait it tastes refreshing in any ware. Don't believe me then visit any Punjabi and they would merrily serve you elaichi chai with less milk in a steel glass. A Punjabi friend of mine once shared with me that his Aunts in Punjab make a Thermos of Chai and keep sipping in small portions as and when they wanted to indulge in gup-shup.

It tastes even better in earthenware known as Kulhad, let me remind you about our former railway minister Shri Lalu Prasad ji, he had a vision and whatsoever people say or media reported about him I will always appreciate his decision on inculcating Kulhad culture on our national railways. I appreciate him for this eco friendly thought and undoubtedly giving a style statement to our normal chai served in paper glasses or plastic non-degradable glasses. The thought of having chai in Kulhad has been so inviting and appealing to me that I persuaded my mother buying kulhads at home and she till date uses them. Chai and railways share a perfect bond, do you remember those chai wallahs  on trains running with their portable chai tanks shouting chai chai and luring us to buy one? What a sight to see chai being poured from taps!

I can have gallons of Chai in Kulhad!

Living in any first world country, a common sight would be seeing neatly dressed people sipping their hot drink from tall paper mugs and these mugs have their brand name printed - Starbucks, Costa and so on. It doesn't matter if you are having an exotic or fair trade drink but it does matter if it is Starbucks or Costa or any other. It has become a style statement, is my impression. Travelling on a particular train, I know some faces - my fellow passengers who always hold these precious mugs. One question always pops up in my mind...do they know that they are harming the planet? Once when I was at Starbucks, I read something in a tiny font and I focused by bringing my upper eyelid closer to my lower, it read - if you get your travel mug 25 p off on your drink. It made me feel wow but at the same time the innocent myself questioned that why wasn't it printed in bold and large font? Clearly, sab kuch paise ke liye! 

Fact : The desire to sip and move around leads to more than 2.5 billion cups per year in rubbish in the UK and hang on if you say that they are recyclable then absolutely not, they end up in landfill as there is a thin plastic cover within the mug preventing it from being soggy. So now you got my point, this relaxing and refreshing hot drink is a sinful cuppa due to the threat it causes to environment!

Undoubtedly, I adore our Indian chai stalls - In Pune, tea stalls outside Kamla Nehru Park was one of my favourites. Behind the scenes how cleanly these reusable small glasses are being rinsed is one question but it does give me a satisfaction of sipping my chai from a re-usable cute little glass. During my college days, it was Jaykar's tea we would literally gulp down discussing lectures, social issues, movies and pretty much everything. Chai was panacea to boredom and it is still the same for many as we all bond so well on this little delight made in several ways. 

If you are enjoying this piece of my write-up with a hot cuppa then I am sure you will relate with every word...but are you enjoying it in an eco-friendly way?

My Choice - with a pinch of salt and dash of humour!

Apologies for bringing this stale topic again but I wanted to share this with you all. Well, there is enough being talked, written and discussed about Ms Padukone and her choices! I have such a busy schedule that I didn’t even watch that video ‘My Choice’ completely – Why I didn’t watch? Undoubtedly it is my choice. 

Only when this whole controversial ad campaign is dying its own death, I got a call from my Aunt who has a daughter in teens. Luckily the day being a weekend, I was delighted to see her name flashing on my mobile; she is someone who is very chatty and lights up anybody’s mood with her sane and insane chats.

‘Hello Aunty, hope doing good and so good to have you on phone’, I say with a grin that she can’t see indeed.

Aunty was in no mood to accept my greetings and jumped on to this stale topic again. She questioned, ‘Did you watch Deepika’s video about My Choice?’ 

I replied gloomily, ‘It must be a rage in India but not in the UK. People here have already had these choices from ages than Deepika had!’

Aunty definitely was unhappy with my answer and was boiling from within. She took a deep breath in and started, ‘Coming to the topic, your cousin Meeta who has gone insane after watching this video. Rather all those people whom I have encountered for past few days have gone insane.’

‘Please explain’, was my reaction. Aunty is just like Rajdhani Express, impossible to stop. I am not a master in Physics but moment of inertia could be related to her – you can’t stop Rajdhani express and you can’t stop Aunty, you try to stop them and you will have it on your face.

Meeta has declared that from today she is not going to the gym, will stop eating healthy and also has ordered roadside french fries and onion bhajjis! After seeing me going mad, she calmly lifts her shoulders says, ‘My Choice’! She doesn’t care about her weight anymore, who will marry her? She weighs 110 kilos! Her face is filled with ugly pimples. She then continued, ‘I wasn’t even done with Meeta, another storm jolted me. Lata our domestic help came to me with some demands; she wants a manicure per month to nourish her dry hands after doing all the household chores, a headphone to listen to music while working and a break with some snacks & tea in front of the TV. I gazed her with such anger and she tying her hair and with cold eyes said, Meri Marzi!!! Without replying, I left the room and went to the hall. Squatted in a corner and held my head with my hands.’ 

I hadn’t even swallowed this list of Lata’s choices, Maa came in. Usually she is calm but today she wanted to play a rocking mother-in-law. She declared that she is going trekking to the Himalayas with all middle aged women from our society, very well aware of the fact that she just had a knee replacement surgery. As she knew I wouldn’t dare to question her, she tucked her pallu and said, ‘I too have an identity and can decide’, in short – my choice!

And the cherry on the cake was Jiffy, our (female) dog didn’t want to eat her normal chapati-milk. Her friend Bruno from the neighborhood probably has chicken tikka every day.  Now, how should I explain that a pure vegetarian Jain family like us cannot serve her with chicken tikka but she too has her choice now! 

She then very sadly said, ‘How I wish, Hemamalini or Jeenat Aman should have done a video campaign like this that could have given some experience you see. Women from our generation feel so down-market after seeing this video, don’t we have any choices?’ 

I could really feel Aunty’s frustration and tried to calm her but she was inconsolable.  She said, 'Trupti, I have no choice than living with these choices, only if Ms Padukone lives a day of my life, she will understand the impact of her video’.

Without expecting an answer from me, she disconnected the call. Period.

Clearing my throat, though I was a bit bored by all this, frankly what could I have done? Everyone only has taken a wrong meaning of that video without really trying to know what is right and wrong for them. Truly, one Ms Padukone cannot educate you about your choices, it is you who has to dig out the pros and cons of your decisions and be ready to handle the outcome. Some of her choices make sense but some don’t, it boils down to us if we want to follow those or have our own choices crafted. 

To all of us, we first need to thoroughly know our basic rights, our limits, our strength and weaknesses, only then can we make choices rather than supporting pseudo-feminism and blindly following it.

I kept the phone on the table and was about to leave for the kitchen to make some breakfast for everyone, my phone beeped then. It was a message on whatsapp: 

What does a spider entangled in its own web say? 

‘Majhe web-majhi choice’, which in English means – (My web – my choice)

Phew!!! Enough of Meeta, Lata, Maa, Jiffy and now a spider…I would rather pack them all and courier them all to Ms Padukone’s address!

Please leave a comment as your comments and feedbacks help me to improve and encourage to write more :-)

To my Aadhya - with Love

To my Aadhya – with Love

My little bundle of joy and sunshine,

Most priceless possession you are of mine,

The day when I learned you were planted in my womb,

Happy I was to know that a life was to bloom.

Those scans were most impatiently waited,

That was my only chance to see you indeed.

Those little heart beats spoke volumes to me,

Questioning, ‘Mum are you listening to me?’

Radiologist declared, ‘Congratulations it’s a GIRL’,

I really wanted to do a swirl,

It never mattered how bloated I looked,

But you were happily growing was the only truth.

One fine night you took me on a painful journey,

It Will always be an everlasting memory,

And that next day my arms carried you,

Every single emotion was pious and true.

You came as a blessing in my life,

Happily promoted me to Mum from wife,

Every little thing done by you,

Makes me feel so proud of you,

Many magic moments we will live together,

Weaving a bond deeper and stronger,

May you be bestowed with courage and strength,

And fight against odds with a shining edge.

I wish you luck in every endeavour,

You won’t always win is to remember,

Don’t ever give up in what you believe,

Keep trying is the key to succeed.

If ever you fail and feel upset,

Don’t forget! There is a clear sky after a spell of wet.

Be yourself with immense dignity,

Nothing should ever disturb your integrity.

Love every one and be kind,

May you be loved by one and all,

Nothing else matters to me,

My daughter is my pride!

I don’t want to think of that day when I have to let you go,

But I want you to evolve as a ‘woman’ and much more,

One thing my honey you always remember,

Your Mum will love you ever and forever!!!

Happy second birthday 🎂 my baby Aadhya...Aai and Papa love you a lot.

Beti bachao, beti PADHAO and in general

For innumerable reasons I have always found this topic very close to my heart. I relate more perhaps because I myself was a girl child and now bloomed into a woman. Taking this opportunity to thank our PM Narendra Modi ji for this initiative. A country that realises a strength of woman, trusts in her ability has a potential to become a successful nation and if India has realised this then it is on right path.

In a country where Sita decided to accompany her husband in exile clearly demonstrates the freedom of thinking and decision making women had at that time. Women weren't only supposed to bore children and look after household. Great heroism shown by Jhansi ki Rani who proved that a son isn't needed to inherit kingdom or carry a baton of family name. There are many many such women of Indian soil who have proved their abilities with time. The making of Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj is because of his beloved mother Jija Mata. She was the one who narrated stories to him, inculcated discipline in his life. Not only in battles and wars but being a dutiful mother has created some heroes in our history.

India being invaded and ruled by conservative Mughals for a long time has a diverse culture. North India for instance has always been under attacks and women being vulnerable targets, family or in general men had to protect women. One of the reasons North Indian weddings are conducted in nights, which is a custom now was probably for security purposes and were secretly conducted then. The beautiful carvings on many Hindu temples are bold enough to illustrate that artists had free mind and liberty to carve bold sculptures illustrating intimacy between man and woman. I am sure that kind of freedom must have been prevailing in those times and artists have exactly carved what they saw! In all I would like to summarize that we Indians had gender equality in many ways and never had a conserved approach towards women. 

For a life to be born it needs a womb and a woman provides it. Clearly, a woman is origin of life and a man can't dare to imagine what it takes to bear labour pains and bring a life in this world. That pain, determination, risk and challenge is not a cup of tea for men! One of the reasons why women are in such a neglected state on my fronts is probably because they themselves are unaware of their capabilities. Due to social pressures she also is forced to desire for a male child that will keep her family happy and her place secure. I have come across many hypocrite pregnant women who want a son. How on earth a woman doesn't want to even think about a possibility of carrying a girl child? Probably she hasn't had a dignified upbringing as a girl is my understanding or she doesn't have self esteem. Some also have a reason that life of a girl in India is very insecure and having a girl adds to extra responsibility but imagine if everyone only had boys and no girls, how would life sustain? Instead all boys and no girls is a more depressing and frustrating situation.

To all those who think a girl is less than a boy then I would like to say them that I am a woman and I feel no less. I am confident, I am smart, I am aware of my capabilities and not a burden on anyone. This was only possible because my parents never discriminated between me and my brother. They believed in educating me. And it is not about me but I know many friends and women out there who are much able and smarter than their contemporary men.

A sapling requires lot of care till it grows into a big tree with roots deep and stands confidently on its own for ages. Nurture your girl child with immense care, good education, teach her to be confident and she will make you proud one day! Don't think about insecurities involved with a girl child, remember everyone is insecure in some or the other way. Change is what you want to see so be a change first..who knows you might have followers...

                            Beti agar padhegi toh saksham banegi aur kisipar bojh nahi banegi

            This post is dedicated to all Women - Believe in yourself, you are allowed to dream

A memorable place - Amadeus

There have been very few instances when I have been to a pub and after Aadhya, it almost is impossible to mange a peaceful lunch or dinner. On my recent trip to Ghent, Belgium we all colleagues went out for dinner to a place named Amadeus, which is famous for Ribs! Being a vegetarian this place was no good for me and I was hesitant but I stepped in and fell in love with the interiors. Lovely lighting that created a perfect ambiance. Sharing some pics with you all

do you see those tins? they are used to dispose the ribs/bones!

lovely pottery, lamps make a fine dinning hall

my personal favourite

ahh!! beautiful...lovely contrast

I had to be happy with a Burger but enjoyed clicking all these little and bright beautiful lamps. The pictures probably don't do justice but the place was indeed BEAUTIFUL...not for food but I would like to visit again to see if anymore additions to the lamps...

Happy New Year 2015 - Let's Welcome together

Beep beep my phone rings,

Happy New Year 2015 – my friend pings,

Wish you the same as I reply,

Does time has wings to fly?

2014 – it is time to bid you good bye,

In this coming new year,

Let us be courageous

Let us be strong,

To stand against odd and wrong

Let us have some peace,

Let us have positivity,

Peace in US can bring peace in world.

Let us gain heap of confidence,

And be sane,

World needs a perfect balance of them.

At last but not least,

Let us be honest, kind, caring and humane,

After we die this is what will remain!

Let us promise that we will care for nature,

Say no to plastic, reduce, reuse and recycle is better,

An eco-friendly lifestyle saves our planet from disaster.

Let us all spread love and laughter,

It has been awful to live in terror,

Live and let live other

Year 2014 has been a mixed bag,

Erase those worst, dirty moments umpteen,

Let us join hand and welcome,

Happy New Year – 2015