Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from August, 2008

Can't think of a title...

"I am the root cause of any problem, mental or physical, suffered by me. And only I can cure myself." I have been thinking deeply about my life experiences, what kind of a person I am and why do I get into difficult situations. I have found a few answers myself with a little help from a friend or two.

The Umbrella

Last monsoon I got an umbrella as a gift. Lilac in colour. Foldable to almost-pocket size. But it seemed a little too delicate for the gusty winds coming from the sea-side. I decided that I won't use that umbrella here in Mumbai and kept it safely in my cupboard. I wanted to possess it forever, even if that meant keeping it as a show-piece in my drawing room. One day when somebody had borrowed my other in-use umbrella I had to take this one out. I had hardly walked 50 steps when I saw an accident happening in front of my eyes. A car had hit somebody. Out of shock the grip on my umbrella loosened and I ran towards the site of accident. It was a friend. Luckily she didn't get hurt badly. Next I noticed that my umbrella had flew to a distance. I ran and grabbed it. It was torn. I started cursing myself, "Why did I take it out today?" The new umbrella, now damaged, was kept back in the same cupboard. I got another umbrella towards the end of last monsoon. Thought it would

Bhaigiri...Gandhigiri...and the latest is Rajgiri!

Bachna Ae Haseeno deals with an issue which means nothing to an activist or an industrialist or an environmentalist or for that matter anybody. It is not even an entertainer. But still it teaches a few lessons. The meaning of love and companionship changes as we age. It is different when you are a 15 year old school going teenager and when you are a 30 year old single. The male protagonist Raj meets 3 women in 12 years and the movie is about his story with each of these women. He breaks the heart of 2 of these women and the third one manages to break the heart of this heart-breaker. It is then that he realizes what he has been doing all his life. May be Mahi and Gayatri were only 2 of the several women he came across. He decides to ask for forgiveness from the two women and manages to do that too. And, somehow magically his goodness is rewarded by a change of heart of the third woman, who runs into his arms and the movie ends with a kiss and a sunset in the background. Quite nice! R

Let my country awake

I remember this hymn we used to sing in school. It is very appropriate for this occasion. Where the mind is without fear, and the head is held high. Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake. Where knowledge is free. Into that heaven... Where the world has not been broken up, into fragments by narrow domestic walls. Into that heaven... Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection. Into that heaven of freedom my father, LET MY COUNTRY AWAKE! -Rabindranath Tagore

JLT or untitled post

Ten days and zero posts. What does that mean? Firstly, general frustration and restlessness has decreased a little. So, there was hardly anything to vent out. And secondly, I have been busy with 'real' work this week and didn't get time for blogging. It is not by chance that I am feeling better and focussing on things which need my attention. I managed to grab some inspiration from different sources. One of those is special. I cannot express my gratitude in words. And specially not here on my blog. Thanks A. I will do it! I started working on the document which will end this phase of my life. (No, it is not a suicide note!). Till now I am liking it. It will be my child, my creation... Apart from that, time was spent in some other things too. Went for lunch at a colleagues place. (I love train-travelling sans the crowd). Had a farewell dinner with 2 of my close friends at my favourite place. Saw a movie ( Dus Kahaniyan ) and liked it. 3 of the stories were disappointing. I r

Bachpan...

As I am getting older, the memories of childhood are becoming more and more dear to me. There are some bitter memories (which I am not interested in discussing) and there are many sweet memories. I have been reading "Kaghazi hai pairahan", an autobiography of Ismat Chughtai these days. In the current chapter she is visiting her phoophi ( father's sister ). The description of the home and the ambiance reminded me of my grand-father's home at Bhagalpur, Bihar. We used to visit there every year during our summer vacation. Two of my phoophis and chhote abbu (father's brother) used to stay there too. So, in all we were 7 kids. If the timing was good then 2 other cousins from Patna would join us. There were fights as well as fun. I remember once we organized a cultural evening with a short skit and some song and dance too. I don't remember my contribution though. Bhagalpur was a little (actually more than a little) short on electricity. And that compelled all of