A stream of thoughts

Chasing the lights...

2009-12-02T08:37:00.000-08:00

It’s been a long day and I can’t wait to get home. As I come out of the office, the darkness engulfs me and I wonder if I worked through the evening and into the night. No, it can't be. My clock shows 5 pm. I look back, the world headquarters of McDonalds shines behind me. The windows are lit with warm yellow light inside. The big Christmas tree shines in the background. The ever famous arch is shining and standing out against the darkness of night. Everything looks so bright and shinny in the dark background of night!

I warp my jacket around me tighter and start walking towards my car. The winter is slowly creeping its way into the windy city of Chicago. My breathe forms a white fog in front of me. As a force of habit I suck in as much air inside my lungs and then let out my breath slowly making a denser fog appear. I smiled to myself. It remained me of a silly game we used to play as children. We pretended to be smoking, only this is much healthier and it did make my nose tip a bit warmer.

The walk back to car is long. The wind makes my eyes water and my nose turn numb with cold. At this every moment when I desperately need the warmth of my car, I forget where I parked it! I sort to the help of technology, clicked on my unlock button on the keys and my car purred quietly ...somewhere. I did it again. I saw faint light blinking between the two cars. So, that’s where you have been hiding...

As soon as I get into my car, I turned the heater to full. I switched on my favorite channel on radio and the loud music of Hanna Montana’s song “Party in the USA” suddenly wraps me into the world of its own. I start my car, adjust my rear view mirror and I am on my way to chase the lights all the way to home...

While driving on the interstate Highway – 290, I realized that it’s equal to driving on any F1 race track. The cars rush past me, only because they can't go over me. I curse when someone is slow on road because I am getting late. I curse when someone over takes me rashly because at that point I am not late! I drive at 70 miles/ hour at times because the one ahead of me is speeding. Sometimes I am forced to drive 75 miles/hour because someone behind me is touching the bumper of my car! At times I chase a car in front of me because I want a second look at that good looking person or someone chases me to show the anger because I was not speeding enough!

Yet when somewhere someone decides to go ahead and have an accident, the traffic becomes more docile. The traffic jams in USA is a great leveler. Unlike in India, where people want to cut lanes and create a jam of their own, here it doesn't depend whether you have a bigger car, or you are richer than everyone or whether you can maneuver your car like a pro. Everyone has to wait in their lane. Everyone seems to follow the bright red light ahead of them as if they are hypnotized by it. I forget what’s around me and my whole world revolves around that bright red light in front of me. When it moves, I move, when it stops… I stop too!

While waiting for that red light to move, I look up into the dark skies. I see small white dots are chasing each other. They are known as airplanes waiting to land. Their chase never ends as they go round and round chasing each. It looks like an animated screen of a game called Pac man. The bigger dot scrolls on the screen to eat the little dots. The airplanes look like big Pac man eating the small dots called stars. They won't stop until they eat all or someone somewhere presses a button to let the planes know that they need to end the chase and for heaven-sake land the airplane!

There is a point on my way to home, where five roads cross each other in different direction and on different layers. Three bridges built on top of the two roads on ground. I can see the red and yellow lights chasing each other till they move out of my vision. I really love this juncture in my journey to home. For a moment I forget that the bright lights are attached to cars and wonder, how can so many lights, going in so many different directions not forget their way! They just keep chasing the one ahead of them. It looks like bright lights are skidding on a smooth road at high speed and yet never bang into each other!

At that point sitting in my car, I wonder when it I loose the track of time. I have become a slave of my habit. The cars ahead and behind me don't matter. The same channel on radio, the same music one after the other, the same road to office and back each day, the same angry mob trying to take over my comfort zone, everything becomes a simple chase to reach somewhere. I forget the tree and bushes are displaying colors of summers or falls or in winters nothing at all. I forget all about a native Indian dream catcher dancing like a ballerina dancer attached to my rear view mirror. I forget to look at the beautiful moon rising in the sky to spread the light while Sun takes a nap!

Probably someday I'll wake up from this hypnotism...only to realize I have missed a decade...

The Slumdog Millionaire: A movie that Indians love to hate

2009-03-02T09:25:00.000-08:00

Few weeks back, I was talking to Ashish, my husband, about a movie which was creating quite a stir in the creative world. It was before it won the Golden Globe, Critics Choice Awards and the greatest of the awards, an Oscars. We didn’t know then, that it is directed by an English director, financed by an American company and is based on a novel written by an Indian. All we knew was everyone was talking about it.

The movie magically and shockingly took us back to the city that we cherish so much...Mumbai or Bombay. The city of dreams, the city of humidity and sweat. The city that has taught hundreds of thousands of large families to live in one-bedroom apartment. The city which taught so many of us to struggle and to dream. A city with a sky full of stars in the darkness of night, and filled with human stars in the daytime blaze–a city of fashion, of film, of a murky underworld, and decaying slums.

The slums runs through this amazing city like a big snake, shinning black, slithering and swallowing whatever beautiful which comes its way. When you fly into the heart of city, the first thing you see is slums, eating away the hills, the greenery, and the beauty of the city. The roads in the city act as dividing mediums with big malls on one side shouting loudly the slogan–India Shining. On the other side, silently, lie slums that people in Mumbai have trained themselves to ignore, thinking that if they close their eyes to the problem long enough it will somehow go away.

Most people, who live in the slums, left their huge homes in villages that provided clean water, clean air, and land that is pure and fertile. Ironically, Mumbai provides polluted air and long queues where people must stand in line for water to drink and oil for cooking. Then they carry these basic necessities to their shanties of less than 100 square feet that provides shelter for families as large as six or more members. They struggle every day to try to realize their dreams to “make it big,” like the few hundred before them who have miraculously managed to achieve the fantasy.

Is this why they could not accept this movie? Is it because it shows the reality instead showing some beautiful location in Switzerland with stars like Sharukh Khan dancing to senseless tunes? Is it because the movie shows how kids can lose fingers, hands, even eyesight, for the “crime” of begging in the streets? Is it because it shows how kids are taught to kill for money to become the next don?

People don’t like the title of the movie because they see “Slumdog” as a putdown for those who live in the slums, as though they are no better than dogs. If words are supposed to insult what about the word “Millionaire” that is right next to it? People say they didn’t like the movie because it doesn’t show the "India Shinning" image. Instead the director chose a very dirty place, Slums of Mumbai, which according to them doesn’t exist. I see this divergence from fact as comparable to when a leader of a country like Iran says that he doesn’t believe the holocaust happened. Though I agree that this is not the only part of India yet the story was not about India it was about love in the streets of slums. How else can you show that without bringing in the slums?

The big actors in Bollywood don’t agree with this movie probably because they didn’t get a role in it. Some say the movie won only because a foreigner directed it. Maybe they have forgotten that the only other movie about India that managed to win international awards was Gandhi. Gandhi is shown religiously in India on every TV channel on Independence Day, Republic Day, and on the anniversary of his death. No one complains for this masterpiece though this movie is also directed by another foreigner - Richard Attenborough, an Englishman, and the role of Gandhi played by Ben Kingsley, an American.

Yet when the same movie managed to win the first ever Oscar for an Indian musician - A R Rahman, India is celebrating. Kids who acted in the movie were wholeheartedly welcomed back into the slums upon their return from the Oscar presentations. They are treated as famous actors and everyone is happy for them. The use of “dog” in the title of the movie is no longer an issue. Every news channel and every internet site in India is talking about how great the movie is.

Frida Pinto has all of a sudden become a big celebrity. Before this movie no one even knew she existed. She is being talked in every gossip column. No seems to mind a barely covered Frida Pinto on the front page of Maxim and Vogue. She has even managed to get a role in Woody Allen’s new movie, a feat that the famous star, Ashwariya Rai, was unable to do till now.

My husband and I, like many people of our generation and background, love this movie for the hard and dirty truth it displays. We are probably few of those Indians who don’t cringe with the word “dog” in it, because we know that this city has always opened its arms for its citizens giving equal opportunities. This city has always cheered for its citizens whether they live in more affluent parts of the city or in the open-sewer slums.

We rejoice when a movie about India gets an international platform because it breaks the mold that India has endured for ages. It dares to tell that there are no elephants roaming around in every city, there are no snake charmers walking on the roads and people don’t live in palaces and forts.

Someday, after all the current sensationalism about “Slumdog Millionaire” is over, somewhere in the narrow streets of the slums, an old man may be sitting under the only surviving tree visible for miles. He will tell awestruck kids about “Slumdog Millionaire” and how it managed to take a few children, just like them, across the seven oceans into a big city of dreams. He will not talk about how the movie showed only the slums and not the India of the Shining Image. He will tell about Frida Pinto who came from nowhere to become the most talked-about actress from India, and about A.R. Rahman, who became the first musician from India to win an Oscar. The movie and the people involved in it will be the shining images left for India to remember and commend forever.

A new friend...

2009-03-02T09:12:00.000-08:00

It was cold this morning when Ashish left for his office. Alone now, how to pass the day weighed heavily upon me like a dark, thousand-ton burden. I stood at the French window that frames a lovely view of the lake, brimming with life in the warm months of the year. Now it lay frozen and desolate, the barren trees standing patiently, waiting for the warm breath of summer to return.

The only color visible in the outside world was white. Surprisingly, all the cars were white too, covered as they were with winter’s snow. I missed the colors of the summer months, and the people strolling and playing along the lakeshore. It told me I was in the middle of a vibrant civilization.

I decided to make an effort to pull myself out of the depression that had taken control of my life. As I was about to turn away from the window, I noticed something moving in the shrub that’s right outside my apartment. A large squirrel was staring at me with his big black eyes. The squirrel looked like a toy that someone had placed at the edge of the shrub. I didn’t move for a long time for I was afraid of scaring away the only companion I had.

After a while, the squirrel moved a little closer to my window, but I still did not move. Then the squirrel moved very close to the window, so close that only the window pane separated us. He looked so beautiful with his fluffy fur and beautiful salt-and-pepper tail arched over his back. His large toes and curved claws were clearly visible. Next, he sat up on his back feet and folded his front “hands” close to his chest. He looked like an old man sitting on a stool, wondering what he had forgotten to bring home from the market that his wife had sent him to get.

I suddenly remembered that I had some bread pieces left from breakfast that I could share with this poor soul. My sudden movement to get the bread scared Mr. Squirrel and he ran back to the shrub. I was devastated for I didn’t want to lose my new friend. With the bread in hand, I stood silently where I had stood before and prayed that he would return. After a few moments, he did return, and this time he was a little bolder in approaching me.

When I opened the window, a cold gush of wind chilled my face. Sitting down, I extended my hand with a piece of bread toward the squirrel. He waited at a safe distance, but shifted his eyes back and forth from mine to the bread several times. He was clearly interested in the bread. I realized that I would not be able to get the squirrel to come to me so I made small pieces of the bread and threw them closer to him. The moment I closed the window, he rushed to the bread, took a piece in both hands, sat on his back feet, and began nibbling.

This interaction between the Squirrel and I made me realize how fascinating the tea party must have been for Alice at the Mad Hatter tea party, with the Hatter, the March Hare, and the Dormouse there.

The squirrel didn’t let anything go to waste and never dropped a single piece of bread. All this while, he kept looking at me as he continued to eat. Was he thanking me? I smiled at the thought and wished I could talk to this special animal. After he ate his full, he grabbed one piece of bread and ran to hide it. He came back again and again, each time running off in a different direction to hide each morsel. It was fascinating to see him so busy and so serious with the task of hiding the food for later use.

After the squirrel hid every piece of bread, he came again to my window. This time he stood on his hind feet and stretched his whole body to its maximum length. He apparently wanted more food and stood like this for a long time. But I didn’t want to give him too much food, for I didn’t want to make him sick. I thought, Please come back tomorrow. I can’t give you any more food today.

As if he understood what I was thinking, he hopped away without even looking back. I felt so sad to see him go away like that, and wished that he would come back. And he did come back. He comes back every day now. I have named him Phil and he brightens my life in these gloomy winter days.

I am so happy that I found a new friend in such an unexpected way.

A diwali at home...away from home!

2008-10-23T07:49:00.000-07:00

Can’t believe it’s already winters in Chicago. It seems like yesterday when I landed in a snow covered Chicago and now already the evenings are getting shorter and mornings are getting colder. Getting out of bed takes a lot of afford. Today morning while aimlessly walking around the house, putting things on their place with robotic movements, I looked outside and saw a clear blue sky, leaves falling down in a spiral motion as if delaying the fall for as long as possible. I opened our patio window and step out from the warm comfort of my home into the windy cold weather…and as soon as I did that the cold air filled my lungs and I wrapped my arms around myself.

Standing there all by myself… I could suddenly smell the cold, crisp air of Udaipur. The old, white gate opened and I screamed “SPIKKYYYYY” and my dog comes running outside, welcoming me to a place where I belong. He is all over me, licking all my face and to balance myself I have to sit down which is a big mistake because now he doesn’t want to leave me. My sister, binnu comes out to control spiky and manages to free me from his loving doggie-hug! Then comes a loving hug from binnu, a teary hug from my mom, a side hug from my father, big arm hug from my brother, a long lost hug from a sister whom I am meeting after a long time and a pat on my head from chacha….I am home.

The moment I step in I could smell the delicious sweetness of jalebis, the spicy kachoris and dhokle and my stomach starts grumbling from the anticipation of what’s coming! The moment I lay my plate with all the goodies, spiky takes his favorite place, on my feet to beg for all that we are eating!!! Sometimes I wonder if it would be a good idea to place a plate for him on the table! Atleast we could have our own share without feeling guilty of eating without giving him anything. Attacking the breakfast table I gather all the news of what’s happening in Udaipur. Everyone seems to be either doing great or good or bad…the usual.

All the relatives will be landing in Udaipur for Diwali soon… there are going to be loads of parties, good food, loads of dancing and loads of fun. Nothing out of usual but then this usual makes me feel at home. Seems the time never moves ahead in Udaipur but then for me the time flies. Binny and I get down to our annual routine of doing rangoli at our house on the day of Diwali. Binny is usually super excited and I am super lazy. She coxes me to think about which design, what colors and we end up digging our grandmother’s treasure from previous Diwali and take out our colors, designs and some crackles left from previous festival. My brother, Vaibhav, gets excited and starts burning the crackles early. Spiky, our super-dog, comes running from inside all set to attack the source of noise and I look at them laughing, enjoying the madness and happiness this festival brings. The rangoli takes whole day to finish but satisfied that we did a good job; we call everyone from inside and gather the obvious praises!

Now comes the most important part…what to wear in the evening. I decide on saree from my mom’s treasure and binny decides a lehnga from her treasure! My mom puts on her half glass and starts to fix her blouse for my size and while she is doing this I and binny lie on her lap. We discuss everything from my life, binny’s life and life in Udaipur. That is the happiest moment in my life. Makes me want to never grow up! But someone really gets jealous…suddenly jumps on the bed and makes his presence felt, rubbing his nose on mom’s hand and barks to let everyone know… I am the one who has the right to all the love and attention…mom just smiles and pats on spiky’s head! Jealous dog!

Papa comes in from a day full of shopping for dry fruits, sweets, kaju katlis and most of all loads of pujas at his different office locations! He takes a pillow, rests his head on the bed rest and before we know, his snoring fills the room like fragrance from an incense stick! Binny and I hug papa and wake him up from his deep slumber! He doesn’t get irritated but just smiles and rolls back to his beauty sleep. We let him rest…he is our pandit for the day!

Atlast we get ready for the puja and there is no puja without the chaos! Chacha and papa dressed in kurta pajam set the place for puja. Vaibhav does the setting of things in place around puja place, I and Binny light the diyas and mummy places them outside. The puja starts and with everyone even spiky takes his place. The commotion continues during puja…do this, no don’t do this right now…where is the lacha, where are the silver coins…chacha says the Sanskrit shlokes while papa and mummy performs the puja. As soon as puja is over, I and binny rush inside to change in more comfortable clothes to burn the crackles. Outside the air is cold and filled with the smell of burning crackles.

A “Hello” from a person passing in front our house, brings me back to Chicago. Standing there in cold, shivering…I went to Udaipur and came back. Suddenly Udaipur feels so far and unreachable. In the cold, dry air of Chicago, I could smell the air of Udaipur. I am missing home… even though I am at home…

The gold at the end of rainbow...

2008-08-22T10:26:00.000-07:00

Few days back, while driving around Ashish and I saw a beautiful rainbow which we managed to capture on our camera. Those beautiful colors splashed across the sky brought back something old which I read somewhere...You will find gold where the rainbow ends. I remember, I read this saying when I was very young in a children's story book. It got stuck with me since then.

When I was young I used to believe that there is really gold to be found. Whenever I used to look at a rainbow, I always wanted to know where it ended. I used to think, if I find that gold, all the troubles would end. I would have enough money so that my dad won't have to work so hard, so that I could have whatever I wanted without thinking twice, I could go on big vacations with my family, own lot of dogs...and then I went to geography class. It was in those dry lectures that I realized that its impossible for me to know where the rainbow ends. Hence, the dream to own that gold was shattered. I never understood the true meaning of this saying.

After so many years when I saw that rainbow in the cloudy sky of Chicago, I realized that the gold is not the gold of this materialistic world. The gold signifies the ultimate happiness. The happiness that we keep pursuing. Then we are alone, we always dream to fall in love, when we fall in love we always dream of getting married to that person and spending our whole life with that person. Once married, we are looking forward to kids; we struggle to keep our parents happy, struggle to keep our kids happy, struggle to keep ourselves happy. The different colors of life, the different moods of life, and different kind of people we meet...they all get lost in a stupid journey to get that ideal world where no one is unhappy. Aren't we making ourselves unhappy in pursuit to keep everyone happy? We are pursuing that gold which we will never find. In that journey to find that gold we forget the beautiful path we are on.

There is no "happily ever after", there is no ideal world...there is no gold. The only thing that remains is rainbow...and so many times we forget to enjoy this beautiful mix of colors, in search of the nonexistent gold. Have we ever stopped ourselves to say...look how beautiful my life is without the mad rush for the ideal happiness. Have we ever stopped to look at the greens of the earth, the blues of the sky and violets, Indigos, Blues, Greens, Yellows, Oranges and Reds of a rainbow...

From Mumbai to Chicago....

2008-04-03T09:08:00.001-07:00

I felt the cold winds of Chicago blow into my face, while I sat in my car. It’s been two weeks since I have landed in here. I am still getting used to the idea that it can be cold in middle of March. Back in India, at this time we are already celebrating the onset of summers!! The air is crisp and cold, unlike in Mumbai where you feel you are breathing only water because of high humidity.

Up in the sky, far away I saw a plane flying cutting through the beautiful colors of the evening. Two weeks back, I was probably in that plane...waiting to fly into the arms of my husband, Ashish. The wait to reach him was long. After all we were separated by seven seas and Indian immigration people!!!!

"So, why are you flying to USA?" the immigration officer in India asked me.

"My husband is working there." I replied.

"So?", he said.

I was little taken aback at that moment. How do I reply to this "So!"? I could think of various answers and it made me smile. I didn’t know whether it was joke or that man was actually asking me this question.

"To join my husband", I said with a smile on my face.

The way that officer looked at me, I immediately knew that it’s going to be a long night. That funny question was actually a serious one!

"Show me your papers." he said.

I took out my marriage certificate and other forms to tell that my husband is legally in the golden country and I am just a wife waiting to join my husband. He looked at the photocopy of my husband’s passport.

"How did you get this photocopy of his passport?", he said.

"He gave it to me before he went", I replied. I was not sure why he was asking me this.

"How can this possible? This already has an immigration stamp on it. Do you want to tell me that he got it stamped here and then came out to give you the photocopy?” he said it with a scowl on his face.

I was lost. What was this man trying to say? I was totally confused and for a moment I felt the floor beneath my feet slip away!

"Well, my husband left on 9th Feb 2008. The stamp you see is of May, 2006. He came back to India on Nov, 2006. We got married and he left before me. I am on my way to be with him". I told him and this time I definitely didn’t smile!

"Show me your marriage certificate", he said.

I pulled out the marriage certificate given to me by the government of India. I thought this will shut him up.

"This is not valid!” he said without even looking up.

I simply lost control of what’s happening. How can a marriage certificate with the stamp of valid government seal be invalid!

"This is a district certificate. It’s from Udaipur. How is that possible?” he said again.

Is this guy really talking to me or am I an invisible element listening to the conversation of some other people.

"Well, I got married in Udaipur and hence the certificate from there. I have also got a letter from my husband's company.”I told him. I was desperately trying to convince this man that I am not a fake person!

I pulled out a letter from my husband’s company which stated that I am on my way to join my husband.

How did you get this?", he asked. Oh god! I hope he is not one crazy fan of Sherlock Homes.

"Well, the company posted it to me", I told him.

"Did it come in an envelope?", he asked.

"Yes.", I told him.

I couldn’t help but frown as I didn’t know what he was getting to.

"Why doesn’t it have folds to indicate it came in an envelope?", he said with such an authority that I couldn’t believe my ears!!

These are the people the government of India has hired to see that only eligible people go to the other countries! The most important question this guy here could ask me was why the letter doesn’t have folds!

"Well, it came in a big envelope so that the paper doesn’t need to be folded!", I told him. This time my voice was barely audible. I was afraid whether it was a trick question or a real question.

He gave me a look which said, don’t act smart lady as I have the power to let you go or not. At this point I panicked. What did I do wrong, probably smiled at his stupid question. This guy can actually refuse to let me go while terrorists get in airplanes and have managed to hijack it fly it across the buildings.

"Stand on the side", he said like a teacher tells a student to punish.

I didn’t know what it meant. I went cold. Does it mean that he is actually not letting me go...this can’t be true? I got a valid VISA from the United State of Government. They had checked all my documents. Can this guy actually refuse to let me go?

He gave my papers to some other guy. Must be a senior from the way he held his head up and moved around. I was surrounded by strangers whom I had never seen them in my life before and I am sure I won’t ever meet them again. Yet, somehow they had the power to alter my future!

"Show me your marriage certificate", the senior officer told me.

I pulled out my marriage certificate again. I also added the letter from my husband's company incase even he also has any doubt. He just gave one look at it and gave it back to the immigration officer who was handling my case. He just nodded and went away. I kept standing there not knowing what would happen next!

The officer stamped my visa and gave it back to me with such an air of importance. I could not believe that it all happened to me. I was in such a shock; I didn’t know how to react. What did actually go wrong? If everything was right, why was I stopped in the first place? I walked to the gate like a zombie! Maybe it was just a dream. I pinched myself and realized painfully that it was not!

Thankfully, the rest of my journey went peacefully. When I stood in front of the immigration at ORD, she just asked me three questions -

"Why are you here?"

"Which company does your husband work for?"

"How long do you plan to live here?"

After which she said - "Have a pleasant stay in USA. Hope you have a wonderful time here".

A strange country is ready to take me in and people of my own country had problems without any reasons. The most intelligent question they could afford to ask me was why the paper doesn’t have folds if it came in envelope!

Snapshots of 2007...

2007-12-28T10:45:00.000-08:00

Today when Sonali and Rashmi left for their office, when our maid went after doing the cleaning of our house, I sat down on the chair besides the big window of our house and looked outside. There were noises from the near by school, somewhere there was load music playing on radio and the birds were chirping. Life was going on for everyone as it did for every day. For me time slowed down and i saw the memories flash across from the year 2007 flash across me.

I shook myself out of the dream and looked around my house. Four faces, all 32 teeth showing, started back at me...a sketch snap taken on 31st Dec 2006 with Sonali, Manasi, Rashmi and me. It felt like yesterday when all four of us went for a stupid movie because we couldn’t find a better place to go for our New Year celebration. After the movie got over, IMAX Adlabs surprised us by serving free cake. Well, nothing which is free should be left out and we all joined the line for our free cake. After all, it’s new year. We marked the beginning of yet another year by hugging each other and laughing like mad. Something magical was in the air...made us feel on cloud 9. That marked the beginning of year 2007 for us...for me!

Well, the year 2007 was magical for me. My friends got married, some celebrated their 3rd anniversary and as always I felt amazed on how fast time flies. Friend's kids celebrated their birthdays and at these times i always get transported back to life where we girls had no responsibility and as carefree as ever, a vast contrast to what we are today. It always surprises me as how madly happy we were then and how our happiness knows no boundaries even now. My list of friends increased with a single trip to Goa when i found new friends in Deepali and Rishi whom i didn’t know before 2007 started. Well, it doesn’t take much to get such amazing friends...just plan a trip to Goa...Goa will take care of the rest.

Then of course I found my life patner in my best friend. I knew Ashish as a friend for a 10 long years but now I am getting to know Ashish as husband (as he likes to say - to-be husband). We used to spend hours talking on Fatehsagar when we were in college. This time when i went to Fatehsagar with him, holding his hands...there was something special. Sometimes I feel...is it for real? Without being aware of it, i feel a smile appearing on my face and my heart says...it’s for real. Sitting there in my home, looking at my snap with him... I knew it was a beginning of all the new things in life. This year 2007 changed so many things in my life with just one incident.

When i look back at my last new year, watching movie in IMAX and Ashish enjoying in USA...we didn’t have the slightest idea of what this year is going to bring to us. Now that we know, it has made this year even more special.

This year was not only smiles. People lost their loved ones and there were tears too. For every up, there were downs too. What’s a year - 365 days, if you don’t have little downs to make way for ups? The whole journey of tears and laughter were made memorable for me by my friends and family and my new family too. The ride to Delhi for friend's marriage, proposing to Ashish, getting engaged on 23rd April 2007, learning to cook, trips to Bangalore, having a family surrounding me and Ashish to congratulate us for a new path that we have chosen together, a trip to Goa and riding on bike sitting behind Ashish, birthdays in our weekend villa(our small flat in 304), Holi, Diwali and many more festivals, getting a TV and the joy of having cable connection of our own, wiping of tears for friends and letting them we are there for each other...a year gone by leaving behind wonderful memories.

I didn’t realize for how long i was lost but when I looked around my house...it felt the time had stopped for me. Well, the time has come to welcome 2008 with new resolutions and new dreams. I hope this coming year is as wonderful as the year that has gone by...for everyone who touches my life.

Change is only things that constant in Life

2007-12-05T04:56:00.000-08:00

How many times you would have heard this saying? How many times something changed in your life and you were sad about it? How many times something changed in your life and you were happy about it?

I am heading towards the biggest change of my life. I am getting married. A lot of things would change. I want to be prepared for it but everyday when i think about my D-Day i get scared. Little things which I take for granted would change. Things that defined who I am would change. I am both happy and sad about it.

Things like my surname. I was born with surname Joshi. The first thing probably my parents taught me was my name - Kritika Joshi. All through 28 years of my life I was known as Kritika Joshi. My school mark sheets, my certificates which I won in competition, the offer letter when I got my first job, my passport by which i have an identity of being Indian citizen...everywhere I am known as Kritika Joshi. I know myself as Kritika Joshi. Yet on 27th Jan...I'll become Kritika Savani. The surname of my husband would be added to my name. I'll move on from being my father's daughter to my husband's wife leaving behind whatever my father gave me and accepting what my husband would give me.

The place which I call my home would change. Since the time I was born I have known my parents house as my home. That’s the place where I first learned to walk. That’s the place where I learned so many lessons of my life. That’s the place where i used to sit outside in winters, surrounded by the sweet smell from garden, feeling the cold wind brush against my cheeks and reading novels. Yet on 27th Jan, it won’t be my home anymore. My husband's home would be my home. A place I used to frequently visit for a cup of tea or evening time pass as friends would be the place I would be living in. In the morning when I’ll get up, my sister wont be there snuggling beside me or my pet dog wont be barking for attention. My mom would no longer come and hug me in the morning to tell me to get up and have the breakfast she cooked for me. My father wont be there sitting on breakfast table, ready to head to office. I would no longer be the daughter of my home...I'll become daughter-in-law of my husband's home.

The space which my parents have in my life would change. All through my life they were first for me. They saw me taking my first step, they were first to hear when I spoke my first word, they were first to see me off to my school, they were first to offer me my first pocket-money. When i won my first award at school they were first to know and celebrate it with me. They were the only people i could think of when had my first salary. My life revolved around them. On 27th Jan...my priorities would have to change. I will have Ashish's parents as my parents. For the first time in my life my parents would have to take second place in my life.

On 27th Jan Ashish and I would be tied through the relationship of marriage. Its amazing how a single event in my life has the capability to change so many things in my life. I am sad about the things which will be left behind, yet I am happy about the new beginnings. I am scared of leaving most precious relationships behind yet I am happy about new relationships. My heart is filled with joy but at the same time scared of the change which will bring with it loads of things which would be new to me. My life is going to start all over again...but this time Ashish will be there beside me, holding my hand through the ups and down of my life. I know change is the only thing constant in life...yet we never have enough time to prepare for it.

Most Important Day of my Life

2007-05-16T07:58:00.000-07:00

Cold winter rains splash outside in Delhi, the glass is covered with fog, marking the area of warmth and cold very clearly. Inside the Barista I and Ashish are trying to make sense of the chaos that has brought us together. I look outside...people huddled in groups to defy cold or rush to their cars to escape the cold winds which can chill you to bones. It has been cold and wet winter in Delhi and yet seeing Ashish in front of me for a reason which we both are trying to justify filled me with warmth. He has been my friend for almost 9 years.

We met at NIIT in 1998. I was a girl from St. Mary's School...convent school only for girls. He was from St. Paul’s School...convent school for boys. The simple Hi's and Hello's followed into the knowledge that he is also in the same college where I was studying. Rather he was in the same class as me. It filled me with so much relief that here is a guy from same school of thoughts as I am...in those days, which school one belonged to was as important as one's caste. The meetings in NIIT expanded to meetings in college. We formed a group of like minded people. The class rooms shifted from college to Fatehsagar. I found KANVAS - that was the name we gave to our group. It was really like a canvas where different people filled my life with different colors of life. I found new meaning to life...I found comfort of friendship in Ashish. Then, like different breeds of birds gathered together in a lake for winters fly to their homes in summer...we like those flocks of birds flew away to different cities to find our dreams. I went to Mumbai and Ashish went to Pune.

We met at go-karting ground in Hiranandani in Mumbai in 2003. We were not in touch for 2 years. We both got busy with our lives. That evening when the slight drizzle filled the empty space between me and Ashish, we caught back on life that we weren’t together. The past, where we were best friends...brought us together again. It was new beginning for us again. A pack of popcorn followed by a coffee...followed by star gazing watching the stars of sky coming down to city of Mumbai when we saw lights turning night into day. It was kind of symbolic for me. I had found the most cherished person back in my life. We started meeting once a while. The meeting from Hiranandani followed into meetings with friends on Marine Drive and going together for plays and going for treks. With him the conversation flowed even if we both were not talking. Then, I came to know he is shifting Bangalore. Time to fly again. I remember the treat in Pizza hut and sitting with Udaipur friends after that in another restaurant. My past and present where leaving me again and I had let it slip out of my hand like sand. Ashish from Bangalore went to USA and we lost touch again.

We met at Cafe Coffee Day at Hiranandani in 2006. Ashish just got back from USA. I had just got through Accenture. I was fed up of meeting guys from Shaadi.com. He was a regular visitor of Shaadi.com. We discussed the pains of getting married to unknown and the beautiful dreams of being in marriage. We talked of our past which we both cherished like sweetest dream. We talked of our present which was making us look like adults refusing to grow up. But at the same time we both had changed a lot. We both had seen so much in life that the facts and practicality stared us point blank at our face. However much we refused, life was forcing us to grow up and take notice of things that were shaping around us like the expectations of our parents to see us married...like the loneliness that enveloped us because slowly all our friends were settling into married life...like people leaving us and we couldn’t do anything about it. Yet again I started looking forward to meeting him and he again formed a part of my life. Then, once again he left for USA.

We met at Pizza hut at Hiranandani. I met him after meeting a shaadi.com guy. While talking to the guy I realized that he is again from the same lot. At the age of 31, he was wondering whether to get married or not. He was planning to go to USA and not sure when he would be coming back again. I was standing and talking to him but hardly paying attention to him. All this while, I was looking forward to meet Ashish who was standing right in front of me noticing the irritation on my face. When I met Ashish that day, I looked at him and I realized, I wanted to spend my life with someone like him…then again, why not him? That day while sitting in pizza hut I suddenly felt conscious of him as a guy whom I would love to spend my whole life with. I saw him as a person beyond just as a friend. I saw in him what I was looking for in every guy. I finally realized that I wanted to give him and me a chance. I wanted to know if he was also looking for someone like me. The meeting that day followed into a mail, where I proposed to him.

We met at Barista in Delhi in Feb 2007, on a cold and rainy afternoon. Rest is then a history...On 23rd April 2007, I got engaged to Ashish. It was the most wonderful feeling. Its not about getting married, its not about long phone calls, its not about learning to cook for him, its not about the smiles on the face of my parents and sister and my friends. It’s about knowing that the person whom I'll get married to knows me like he knows his shadow. Its about the love in his eyes for me...its about sharing same interests while being equally different...its about knowing that I’ll be walking the shores of my life while holding hands of my best friend and being in love with him...its about knowing that with Ashish I can be what I am without changing too much about myself and its about all those unsaid feelings that are still finding ways in our lives together.

At times, when I look back, I laugh at my own life and feel amazed at how it brought me to Ashish. My life has been like a game which we used to play as kids in birthday parties. There is a parcel passed around in circle. When the music stops, one layer of packing comes off and the holder gets a small gift. The process is repeated until the all the layers come off and the last person gets the biggest and brightest gift. At various instances of life, I got a small gift, a small hint of what is going to come, only to start the game all over again. The last gift in the parcel game is always what you expect the least yet it always manages to make you happy and thrilled. That gift for me which my life had in store for me was - Ashish.

THE question never seems to fade away. The answer to the question - So, when am I getting married...27th Jan 2008. :-) Everyone’s Invited - Kritika & Ashish

Few of my favourite things

2007-03-15T23:26:00.000-07:00

Sitting at next to a window with a hot mug of tea and my favorite book, with the rain pouring outside.
Dinner with my entire family sitting at one dinning table.
Looking at the evening sun rays filtering through the leaves of big coconut trees.
Sitting at Marine drive and looking at the setting sun over the silent sea.
Smell of home cooked food.
Sleeping on my mom’s lap.
Looking at a kid smiling in sleep and wondering who is that kid dreaming of?
Snuggling into my warm blanket during cold winter nights and feeling lazy to get up on cold mornings.
The smell of first rain after very hot summer.
The feeling of fresh and wet grass under my feet.
Looking at horizon from a sea beach n wanting to touch it.
Looking at sun rise from 36,000 ft above the ground while flying home.
Walking along the beach with sea waves playing touch n go with my feet.
A big hug from someone I missed for a long time.
A surprise party which my friends arranged for my birthday.
Getting letter of appointment from my dream company…Accenture.
Rain drops on Roses and spider webs.
Receiving an offline message or Orkut invitation from a long lost friend or a long forgotten crush.
Feeling rain splash on my face and dancing in the rain.
Coming home to a warm welcome from my dearest pet dog.
Listening to songs like Summer of 69 and Hotel California with my old friends.
Waking up to songs of birds in morning.
Climbing on mango trees and getting scolded later.
Dancing to my favorite song when alone at home.
Having orange candy on a hot summer afternoon.
Going on long drive with music playing full blast.
Looking at the full moon and looking at the star full of sky from a place far away from the madding city.
Lazy afternoon sleep on those rare Sundays when I am home.

These are some of the moments that refresh me whenever I think of them. When these things happened, they went by in a flash. But when I sit n remember them, they always manage to put a smile on my face. What are your special moments? Do drop it in the comments...

For my dear sis Shalini, with love

2007-03-08T05:45:00.000-08:00

Sitting in Volvo bus, on my way to Mumbai from Udaipur I look outside the window. I had gone to Udaipur for my cousin’s wedding. The night has fallen and it’s completely dark outside. Everybody is sleeping inside. Once in a while I see a little flicker of light far away. I try to make myself comfortable. The AC is on and I pull my blanket to feel little warm. There is a peaceful silence around me and I drift back to a past.

We both had met at Shalini’s house for the first time. The day I met her was the luckiest day of my life. I found in her an elder sister, a best friend and love from her that would last for all my life. From there started a series of walk to school together with me always waiting for her at the gate and she always getting late for school, eating orange bar on Fatehsagar together, rides on Kinetic, sharing little secrets, having fun in the school, giggling in the corridors, sharing the tinniest bit of blue ribbon, sharing tears on school farewell and watching movies late in the night and then feeling scared to go out to lock the doors. We were always lost in our own worlds. When girls in school had loads of stories of their boyfriends we were busy dreaming crazy dreams. We thought of becoming Don. We dreamt of black limousine stopping in front of our house, we getting out of it in black leather attire and holding AK47! I smiled and saw my own reflection in the window of the bus. It was all such a long time back…but the sweet smell of these memories is still alive in my senses.

Pakhi sitting next to me stirred on her seat. Outside saw little bushes blurring into each other because of the speed of the bus. Somehow it resembled my life. Sitting at one place I was looking at my life passing by. I went back to the days of my college when we started our graduation together. We had become bolder in our dreams (the dream of becoming a Don didn’t materialize though!). We started looking at the life’s bigger picture. We were no longer silly girls from school. We noticed boys and we followed them on our Kinetic. We learned to whistle and we learned that all roads in Udaipur lead to Fatehsagar. We learned to bunk college but we learned to study in one month’s prep leaves. We celebrated birthdays, friendship days, Valentine’s Day and each day that we lived together. We learned that having fun with boys is not wrong anymore and we found some very good friends in those days. Our laughter became famous in NIIT and we were known as laughing cousins. We together looked at the Udaipur city from the top of Nimachmata and saw sun rise in the horizon. We learned that it’s not necessary to have money to have fun. From being children we grew up together to become girls. But then life had other things stored in for us…I moved to Mumbai and she stayed back in Udaipur.

I realized that I was crying. My tear in the window looked like a rain drop slipping on the window pane without a support to hold on to. The parting was very hard…on both of us. But we both knew that its best for both of us. We saw a lot of ups and down in our life when we were apart. We used to wait and count days to meet each other and when we met, we wanted to share everything in that short period of time. We gave each other shoulders to cry on and held hands while laughing. We celebrated her getting a gold medal and we partied when I got my first job. We celebrated our success and we shared our first stumbling block in our career. We always found comfort, love and support in each other.

I drew a deep breathe and calmed myself down. Went back to the day when the door bell rang of my house. There was letter for me. A white envelope with golden designs was handed over to me. I saw a very familiar writing. My happiness knew no boundary when I took the wedding invitation of my dearest sister Shalini in my hand. Another phase in her life would be starting soon. The hug when I finally met her before her wedding lasted for long and I didn’t want to leave not knowing when I will get to hug her again. When her hands were designed beautifully with mehndi, looking at her I couldn’t believe that how far the life has brought us together. Her room reminded me of the best moments of life that we shared their together. The garden in front of her house reminded me of the songs that we had sung together when the lights went off in the night. The sound of her laughter reminded me of the days when we couldn’t breather because we couldn’t stop laughing. Her nervous laugh told me that a lot of things have changed. When the music played on her ladies sangeet, I danced with all my heart. When I saw her sitting in her bridal clothes I felt like pinching myself. When Dharam and Shalini we proclaimed to be man and wife, I realized how beautiful she looked being a woman. She was no longer a girl I knew and I realized that all that is past, a part which I will cherish all my life. Life is no longer same…we have moved on…yet again. When she sat in the car to go away I couldn’t bring myself to cry in front of her and I hide myself behind everyone to see her go. I wish I could have hugged her again before she went away but then I wouldn’t have let go of her. I saw a part of me going away with her and I only wish her best in life…hoping that some day my past will meet with my present, with her in it again…

Fifth Goodbye

2007-02-16T04:40:00.000-08:00

2 degree temperature outside, winter rains, designs on the inside of the cars window pane against the fog, water droplets on the outside slipping down to the rim, a reunion with friends, a very long hug, tears in the eyes to say how much we missed each other , laughing and catching up with friends in TGIF, fighting over who pays the bill, hogging like there is no weighing machine, prayer inside the heart to stop the rains, morning fog, cold winds, a hot cup of coffee in Costa Coffee with a friend, looking at the capital city from the roof top of the India’s best institute IIT and watching the sun go down, looking down at students who would tomorrow list in the most powerful people in world laughing together, never ending conversations, crisp fresh cold air filling the lungs, shopping in the narrow lanes of Lajpat Nagar like mad then searching for an ATM to fill our pockets again, preparing for dance till late in the night and then getting up early with half sleepy eyes, never ending celebrations, never ending energy to get ready, never ending smiles on the faces of all who were there to celebrate, a broken sandal and a big favor from a friend who took me to shoppers stop on a short notice to get a brand new one, a big family huddled in a room in the night popping champagne and enjoying the last days with the bride and a goodbye to Aarti with prayer in heart to keep her happy in her new life.

These are some of the moments that I have captured in my heart like black and white snaps capture the silent moments of life. Each of these moments I wished I could hold on to a little longer. I was with her and her family for 4 days and I fell in love with her family as if it was my own. I feel in love with Delhi even though it was wet and cold. I feel in love with life again because no matter how cold n hard it becomes, it’s still beautiful.

Arti weds Anuj. Marriages make us realize how important family is in our lives, marriages makes us realize how important it is to move on in life. The smile on Aarti’s face told me how much she loves Anuj. A single look of Anuj towards Aarti said how eager he was to own her. The sound of laughter said how happy the family was. When I hugged Aarti to say goodbye, I didn’t want to let her go. I just wanted to hold on little longer. Well, Anuj on the other side didn’t look like he could wait any longer. That makes it fifth wedding of our group. A fifth goodbye and I still haven’t learned to control my tears while saying the last goodbye.

A visit to an Orphanage

2007-01-24T07:46:00.000-08:00

I have been having busy days…some would say “for a change” and I would not deny it. Work is peaceful n I am happy that ways…well who wouldn’t be. Yesterday, 23rd Jan 2007 was a hard day too. During later part of the evening we were reminded that we are visiting a local orphanage managed by mother Teresa organization. Everybody had to meet at Vile Parle station at 10:30. That means I would have to leave my home by 9 if I plan to catch a bus and by 9:30 if I decide to go by train. That meant I had to get up early. Not a very exciting idea if I get to sleep post 12 in the night. Still, I set up the alarm n went to sleep.

At 7 my alarm rang and I grumbled n turned n switched it off deciding to sleep for another 5 mins n then get up and get ready for the visit. I ended up sleeping for nearly 2 hours n I got up when my maid rang the bell. Looking at the watch I realized I was too late to go now, I let my maid in and went to sleep again. I couldn’t sleep. I had made a promise and I better keep up. I rushed from one activity to another, nearly colliding with my maid while brushing my teeth then rushing to have bath, getting dressed, drinking a mug full of milk (yeah its necessary to finish that milk in our house) , combing my hair with Rashmi’s comb coz I cant find my comb which is right in front of me while munching on fruit which was cut by Sonali in the morning( God bless her!!) , I finally managed to reach Vidhya Vihar station by 9:30 only to see a line long enough to give a heart attack to strongest of heart! I decided to cross over to the other side and buy the ticket from there. Luckily, I didn’t find any line over there. Don’t ask me why. I have only one answer…its Mumbai! Finally, with the prized ticket tucked inside my pocket, I got ready for another fight. Traveling in Mumbai train in morning towards Dadar! Those who are not aware of Mumbai local crowd scene…just keep one thing in mine…it takes nerves of Titanium to travel in peak time in Mumbai local. I reached platform all ready to fight n get in. I cursed myself for getting up late n missing out the option of bus. The train which came on the platform was nearly empty. I just couldn’t believe my luck. I just kept staring at the empty train out of shock. Suddenly, a push from lady all eager to get inside the train made me realize that if I will keep staring at this train…I’ll probably end up cursing myself all my life. I jumped inside the train, got a seat, plugged my ipod into my ears n started the journey to the lesser known.

The music had cut me from the outside noise and I wondered off into my own world. I was little scared to meet kids as I not a very good with kids. Will they accept me? Will they play with me? Such questions kept floating inside my mind. I got down at Dadar, went to the western line n climbed into another train for Vile Parle. Will the kids cry when they would look at me? Am I dressed properly to meet kids? I reached my destination after traveling for nearly an hour. I was joined by Hakim (pheww…I had someone along with me) at the station and we together walked towards the meeting point that we had decided. There I met Abhilasha and Seema. In few minutes we were joined by Ankur, Savio Gomes, Savina, Lokesh and Savio DeSouza.

The moment I entered the campus, the whole environment changed. The air was peaceful as if not to disturb little kids. There was pin drop silence which reminded me of my school as a kid. The moment I entered, I felt something missing. Where are the kids? We were showed to a room where the infants were being fed their breakfast. Kids were picked up, their clothes were changed, and they were fed a spoon at a time with boiled rice and dal and placed back careful in the pram. None of the kids were more than a year old. These kids were left mercilessly by their parents on streets of Mumbai. Some were left behind because they were girls and some because they were pre mature and some because they suffered from some terminal disease. I think only a human parent can think of abandoning their child because it’s of no use to them, no other mammal does that. Some where sleeping peacefully and some of them were hyper active attracting everyone’s attention. I tried to pick one in my arms and suddenly a maid taking care of another kid scolded me – “Don’t do that. Keep back the kid. You are not supposed to pick up kids”. I felt embarrassed of not being aware of such a simple thing. They don’t want the kids to get attached to you.

We went to another room, where some older kids were being fed breakfast. Felt like a kinder garden class where my mom used to teach. Only difference is these kids don’t have parents who are waiting for them outside the door of the room. A kid came and clinched to me and I didn’t know what to do. I saw both the Savio playing with kids, running around and talking to them as if these kids were their best buddies. I bent down to see if the kid clinching on to me wanted something from me. He looked at me and hugged me tight and suddenly it became hard for me to control my tears. It was then I realized that these kids ask for nothing but just a human touch. They have might have second hand clothes to cover their bodies and food to fill up their stomach but who would fill up they emotional hunger? By hugging that kid back, I gave a minute of happiness to someone. He might not remember me but I will always remember those big clear eyes and his smile. I felt my fear of kids melting away. I saw smiling faces all around me and my face lit up too. I didn’t give chocolates or toys to these kids but by just being there and playing with them…I never knew it was so easy to spread happiness.

I suddenly felt so lucky to be a part of the world where I know who my parents are. I am lucky that my parents didn’t abandon me for being a girl. I am lucky my parents gave me same opportunity as they would have given to a boy child. I am lucky because I was given whatever I desired in life by my parents. I guess I always took my parents for granted! I hope I am not too late in saying this – I am really thankful to you mom and dad for all that you did for me. I know I have not been a perfect daughter but today I realized what a BIG fool I was. Love you Mom & Dad…

A trip to Ganpatipule - Ratanagiri

2006-12-26T08:49:00.000-08:00

Its cold and its uncomfortable. Trying to sleep in a seat meant to sit is asking for too much, I know. Traveling in night in a bus is always painful but then at times it’s more convenient. I remove the so-called curtains and I look outside the window. The world outside my window appears to be hazy because of the moisture on the window. Felt as if I was looking into someone’s dream. Unable to sleep, I look back at my trip to Ganpatipule.

We started on Saturday night. We were a group of 4 girls, looking for some adventure. So, all excited we started before time, well before time meant reaching 2 hours early. It little difficult be early for some place and not to spend money in Mumbai. In Mumbai one can always find a place to spend money, esp. if you don’t plan to spend money. We went to Naturals ice-cream parlor. We sat for half an hour before buying the ice-cream, sat for another half an hour after buying the ice-cream. The place from where we were supposed to catch the bus was crowded to fullest. The long weekend approaching made everyone come out of their routine life. Families, group of friends and here and there some couples, all trying to make sense of all the confusion around them. Atlast our bus came, though half an hour late. With the entry to the bus, we marked our beginning to the journey to Ganpatipule.

A sudden jerk broke my sleep. I realize Sonali was shaking us all and realized that the bus has stopped too. Packed my blanket fast and got out of the bus. It was 5:45 in the morning. A sudden cold wave of air hit me hard because I wasn’t wearing anything warm and it felt awesome. Still in sleep, I tried to make sense of where we were. We started walking to a roadside hotel. In India, by rule everything has to be colorful. The hotel, though not very clean or big was lit up with dancing lights of all possible colors to attract tourists. We ordered for tea and sat down to plan our next phase of trip…we were 32 km from Ganpatipule. The tea came and the owner informed us of a bus that will come at 8 to take us to Ganpatipule. A rickshaw would cost us 250 rs. We decided to wait for the bus.

The tea made me feel better. It was a cold morning. I looked at the sky and realized that living in Mumbai I had forgotten how a clean sky looks. The sky was turning from black to grey and a part of sky started burning in red. Slowly and steadily the Sun appeared marking the beginning of the day. We went and stood at the bus stop. Slowly, people also started gathering around us. Within few minutes a crowd gathered around us. Far on the road we saw a bus huffing and puffing. The black smoke indicated that only few days are left for this bus to retire. All around us the crowd became alert. Everyone started running towards it. As though the bus got scared of all the people rushing towards it, it stopped before the stop only. Everyone tried moving into the bus at the same time causing more confusion and before anyone could realize what happened, the conductor screamed – “No space. Take the other bus!”. The door closed, the bus huffed and puffed some more before moving on. Some cursed, some were too shocked to react and we kept staring at the bus as if it was some bad dream.

The rickshaw ride was much better than the bus, that’s how we consoled ourselves. The road leading to Ganpatipule was narrow and smooth. We sang songs, admired the beautiful countryside. The crisp and cold wind played with my hair. We could smell the sea approaching and before we knew, the road turned and there was sea right in front of us. The sight was so amazing that for a second I forgot what was happening around me. The sea sparkled with the rays of the young sun splashing over it. The waves jumped and danced over the white sand that lay lazily along side the sea. As soon as I looked at the road ahead of me, I was taken aback by the amount of crown that was there on the road. We found a place with clean shower rooms and plenty of home-made food. All with a cost but we were there on a holiday, so just paid and went to sightseeing.

There is a Ganpati temple right on the beach. As we entered the temple we could only see heads and faces. The crowd was rowdy and unmanaged. It was like entering a battle field; you can’t come out without getting hurt. By getting hurt I don’t mean physically, but mentally. It took as an hour for the darnshan and when we came out neither of us remembered how the idol of the God looked but what we did remember was how a guy in front was taking his chances on the girls behind him. If only people would respect each other’s sanity, this world wouldn’t have needed so much of God’s help to maintain the balance.

By the time we came out of the temple, it was nearly lunch time. We headed back to for a hot and delicious, Maharashtrian style cooked meal that was waiting for us. We gulped down the food as if there is no tomorrow. After the lunch we headed back to beach, this time for fun. The water was crystal clear and when I looked towards the horizon it looked a huge blue beast is sleeping with rhythmic ups and downs of its breathing visible. The sea was lined on three sides by mountains, looked amazing. It seemed like a place where you can take a boat to the horizon and forget about the world behind. We played games on the beach, looked at the colorful seashells, ducked each other in the salty water till we were completely drenched. In between we even tried searching for few interesting faces on the beach. Well, we were sure to be disappointed on that front; we were not a part of Baywatch.

The fun and frolic ended with a 6:15 bus back to Ratnagiri, from where we had to take our bus back to Mumbai. The bus ride back is always sad. The return journey has the feelings same as the last day of summer holidays. The fun is over; the work is waiting to start. From the window of the bus I saw the sun sitting in the sea. The rays of the setting sun played on the surface of the sea. The sea looked calm and the sun looked naughty. The sun was me and the sea was my inner self. With day over and the best memories carefully packed inside my heart, I closed my eyes and slept peacefully in the rhythmic noise of the huffing and puffing bus.

The similar landmarks outside my window made me come back from Ganpatipule. I looked at my reflection on the mirror and I smiled to myself. Kritika, welcome back to Mumbai.

So, when are you getting married…?

2006-11-20T23:30:00.000-08:00

What’s my age…?
According to me – Best age to be.

According to my friends – Have fun buddy…

According to my parents – Its getting late…you should have been married by now!

My mom gets a high blood pressure at this point.

These things have become a part and parcel of my life lately. I am at threshold of marriage. Everything is ready from my parent’s side. All I need is a guy. Well, to find that guy I have traveled a lot and I had the opportunity to meet a lot of guys. Some guys are very nervous and they cough before they speak to me. Some are late by 2 hours because they had an emergency. They had to take a friend of theirs to a doctor. The emergency was his friend was loosing his hair! Some are actually nice and stable but they kind of realize it little late that they are meeting me for a reason and that reason happens to be marriage. Of course, at the age of 29-30 they are too young to get married. I completely understand. Some want to study even after getting married and want their wives to work. That’s great. I call such people open minded. But then aren’t wives supposed to look after house and husbands supposed to work. I get little confused but I completely understand their point of view too. Some come to meet the girl because their parents want them to meet the girls. We meet, have a nice time and they go back and say “Sorry, I can’t decide in just one meeting”. It’s another way of saying – “Hell no! I can’t let go of my freedom so easily!” Somehow, such kind of guys reminds me of Rahul Bose of Pyaar Ke Side effects movie. You have not seen it? Please, do go and see it.

I am thinking of making a serial on this phase of my life…maybe I’ll call it Ms. Joshi (remember the serial Mr. Yogi). All these things and such encounters make me wonder a lot about marriage as an institution.

I know a lot of people who are not happy with their marriage but are sticking on because of kids. Is their marriage successful? They are definitely not in love. Their kids know that they are not happy to be together. Everybody knows that they are just waiting to get out of each others company. Then who are they fooling. They wasted the prime age of their lives fooling themselves. Is this what I should look for in marriage – compromise?

I know people who have had inter-caste marriages too. Living in India inter-caste marriage should be titled – “Father of all marriages”! One of my cousin sisters who I frequently visit in Pune had an inter-caste marriage. They are defiantly enjoying their marriage. Though they fought for this happiness in the beginning, but looking at them I am sure that they are not regretting it one bit. Shouldn’t all marriages be like that? Is this what I should look for in marriage – friendship between two matured people?

Recently, I met a friend who is a really good looking guy and working for defence. I have seen girls die for such kind of guys. Then very casually, he told me that he is a divorcee. That was such a great painful shock for me. I had so many questions to ask him but I couldn’t gather courage to ask him. But if they took a decision to separate, it must be a valid reason. I know what a normal lovey-dovey break up does to people, so what would a divorce do to a person. However strong you are, I am sure a thing like divorce can certainly break you at some point or the other, especially if you are one of those kinds who want to make your marriage last till eternity and I am sure he is one of those. So, is this how the marriage should be – painfully alone?

Or should marriage be like what my parents have. First marry, have kids and then fall in love. Ok, I stole this line from a Bollywood movie. But isn’t it correct. That’s how I have seen my parents and their marriage. Their marriage might not be an ideal one. But I know that they love each other. It might not be a love where the husband showers gifts and flowers over his wife but it is certainly a love which has stood the test of time for 27 long years. So, does this mean I’ll have to wait for my love for 27 years of marriage? Is this what marriage is – waiting for one thing in life that you always dream of?

All these questions will remain unanswered for me I know. I am at a crossroad where I have to choose a path in life without knowing what lays ahead for me. All those who I know have sometime or the other have asked me this question - So when are you getting married? Its like asking so when do you plan to jump off the cliff. However much I try, life will flow like a river following its own course. Suddenly, there be a huge waterfall and before I know I’ll made to jump of the cliff like water falls off from the top of the mountain without knowing where it would land. So here I am, meeting guys, thinking all the while would this guy would be the one, keeping my fingers crossed, hoping and praying all the time, while my mom keeps having high blood pressure.

Last but not the least…You are all invited to my marriage, whenever that happens

The setting sun on indian history

2006-11-18T22:25:00.000-08:00

-Ellora Caves (11th Nov 2006)

The bright sun turns pale in the evening and one can actually look at it and admire its perfect round shape and the vibrant orange color. The cool breeze of evening playfully moves my hair. All around me people are dressed in colorful dresses. Women are looking beautiful with their hair loaded with flowers with all possible colors and men have garlands around their neck. The air is filled with fresh air and the scent of fresh flowers forms an envelope around me. Every one is moving in slow motion towards a big cave. The climb to the cave was very steep but nobody seems to mind it. Everyone is eager to reach to the cave.

Everyone slows down in front of the cave and slowly humming the songs enter the cave carefully. Inside the cave, big idols of God are carved out of the hard rock. The idols seem so real that I was even afraid to touch them, what if I disturb their sleep and wake them up. Each idol depicts a story from the Vedas and hindu mythology. The vibrant colors decorating the huge idols on the walls of the cave matched the colors flowers decorated on the hair of various women moving slowly near me. It’s amazing how a craftsman can put life in a lifeless rock. A rocky wall which wasn’t existent till few years ago, starts dancing in front of my eyes.

Suddenly, the drums start playing and everyone looks at the temple situated right in the center. The temple has finer designs carved on the walls and it simply glows in front of me. The King emerges from the main temple and everyone welcomes him by shouting his name. The king is dressed in fine clothes and the setting sun’s last rays bless him. He lets the flowers in his hands blow away with air. The flowers dance for a while in the air and slowly reaching the earth below. People around me slowly start moving up stair case towards the temple. I follow the crowd and I reach a big hall. The hall has beautiful designs on its roof, pillars and floor. The vastness and yet the simplicity of the temple is simply amazing. The whole aura had put me in a trance. It felt like a force was pulling me inside. The shivling in the temple was huge. It was decorated with flowers and sweet smell of the incense filled the air. The priests were singing bhajans and their voice filled me with certain energy. Everything seemed so pure...so unreal.

Suddenly, I heard someone calling my name and I looked back and I saw Sonali standing. I looked at the shivling again and it was barren. The walls around me were bare and the idols were broken. The temple had no life in it. There were no flowers or incenses burning. There were no lights inside the temple and darkens inside the temple sadden me. I don’t know what I felt was a dream or had a lived a moment in the golden era of Indian history. When I came outside the sun was setting. Its last rays were dancing around a pillar that was standing tall. I started walking towards the exit and looked back one last time. It felt like a setting sun on the golden period of Indian history and are we responsible for it?

Do we live for present or mourn the past

2006-10-12T03:53:00.000-07:00

Every girl has a dream of how she wants to get married and Indian weddings provide ample of opportunity. Indians believe in making the bride a princess before she goes off to a new home. When a girl gets married here in India, it’s not only she who lives her dreams but the whole family lives those dreams with her. Parents sometimes re-live their marriages with her. Sisters live their dreams of their marriages through her. This is the only time when she and her family don’t mind spending lavishly on things which won’t be required later in life. This is the time when all expenditures that are made, are reasonable. There are best of clothes which would never be worn again. The best and the most heavy gold jewelry which would be broken into more delicate ones later in life. In the end the justification is – Marriage only happens once in a life-time...and everyone lives through that one chance.

Well, this is one wedding which made me think about life and marriage itself. This was the wedding of my dearest friend Rajni and Bhupinder. The marriage was in Patyala. The marriage preparations started long back. Rajni’s younger sister handled all her shopping. Nisha shopped for her clothes, her jewelry, her shoes, her purses and everything in this world. Everything was going great until one day someone who didn’t care for the life hit her on her scooter and ran off. Had he looked to see what he left had left behind, he would have realized that he didn’t leave behind a wounded person but shattered dreams of a young bride and a devastated family.

Rajni’s parents took the decision to go ahead with the marriage, because that was Nisha’s last dream. Nisha’s dream to see her elder sister get married and become the Princess that every girl dreams of. The marriage happened but Nisha’s presence was felt everywhere. Her beautiful snap in the room told us that she is no more with us, but as soon as we left the boundaries of that room, it seemed that she was there with us all along. The beautiful mehndi on Rajni’s hand told us who was the bride but the emptiness in her eyes told us that she was looking for Nisha. The tears in the eyes of her family said that she was no more with us, the beautiful bride on the day of marriage said that Nisha was there with us all along looking at her sister and smiling and thinking on how beautiful her sister looked. Rajni’s parents smiled to see there daughter getting married, but their eyes said that they missed Nisha. When we all hugged Rajni with our heart full of happiness, but we carried Nisha in our hearts. Come to think of it, I had met Nisha only once in my life and yet her absence left such a mark on my life that today I curse the person who left behind so many tearful eyes and emptiness that no one would ever be able to fill. That person has lived to see happiness in his own life but he took away the most cherished dream of Rajni.

Rajni’s marriage made me think about the irony in choices that life gives us. Either her parents could have chosen to mourn their daughters’ death or they could live their daughter’s happiness through her marriage. Looking at Rajni’s parents I couldn’t help but ask myself – Do we live for present that is there in front of our eyes or do we continue to live in the past which is no longer with us? Rajni and her parents took a decision to move on in their life but at the same time included Nisha’s memories in their life. This gave me my answer.

The world has changed...For Worst!

2006-09-24T12:47:00.000-07:00

The date is – 2nd September 2006. I am standing outside ICICI ATM waiting for my turn. In front of me, the famous Ganpati festival is going on. There is huge crowd assembled for the evening aarti. Kids are playing near the idol of Ganpati. People look happy, the music is loud but it only adds fun to the whole scene.

Suddenly, a guard comes to where I am standing. He looks suspiciously at me. I stare back at him, wondering what’s wrong. Suddenly, he asks me pointing to a parcel near me – “is that yours”. I look at that brown unidentified parcel. Fear grips me. I look back at him and started to shake my head to say it’s not mine. Even he gets scared. He looks around trying to search for a person whom he can verify with about the parcel. Another guard comes from the bank on the other side. Both of them have a conversation among each other, trying to know who this parcel belonged to. For a second, even I get scared and all I want to do is to drop the idea of withdrawing the money and run away from there. We all have same fear in our hearts. What if it’s a Bomb!! My heart starts beating faster and I can feel the sweat on my palm. Then the person inside the ATM comes out and takes the parcel in one hand and looks around at us, wondering what is wrong. The guard realizing that it is not a bomb but the parcel belong to him start scolding him. I breathe a sigh of relief. With my heart beat returning to normal, I could hear the music in Ganpati pandal and I look up to God and ask – “What has happened to us! Some people who are fighting in the name of religion have forgotten what God preached. Where is this world going to?”

The date is – 12th July 2006. Its 3:30 in the morning. Our cab is rushing towards our home with full speed on a nearly empty road. Inside my cab there are 3 more people. I don’t know anyone of them. I have never met them. Perhaps I will never meet them again in my life but what binds us together is an urgency to reach home. All four of us are quiet and thinking about an event, which will change each and everyone of our lives life for days to come. The silence in the car is deafening but neither of us can speak anything. On the road, the business is going on as usual. The milk van is delivering the milk to the various shops. A drunk staggers on the road losing his balance and nearly escapes being run down by a van in front of us. The buildings on the either side of the road are standing tall and safe, giving an impression that our fears are baseless. Some of the lights in the flats are on, telling us that our safety is at stake and our fears are true because in some of those flats, some people won’t come back home tonight or forever.

The date is – 11th July 2006. Its 6 in the evening and it’s nearly tea time for all of us. We are laughing on a stupid joke when someone shouts – “Lets, go for tea”. We readily agree. It’s been a nice day. It wasn’t raining that much. Weather was cool. I have just joined Accenture and there wasn’t too much of work for us. We have been in training and a tea break was a thing which everyone is looking forward to. While walking along with my colleagues, I make a stupid joke and everyone started running after me. I enter the cafeteria thinking what new I should try to eat today. Looking around I realized that there is a crowd near TV. At the same moment my phone starts ringing. It is my mother. The first thing she asks me is where am I? I am little taken aback by her tone. I tell her I am in office and I am thinking what to have in snacks. She then tells me that there have been blasts in Mumbai and I suddenly look up at the TV and start walking towards it. While watching the news on the TV I tell my mom, it’s not one blast, there are two. Within few minutes the TV is full of coverage of not one, not two but 6 bomb blasts. Through the news I come to know that several blasts have taken place in the first class compartment of local trains in Mumbai. Local trains – the life line of Mumbai. I keep looking at the screen, not knowing what to say or what to do. I inform my mother that I am safe in the office and she need not worry about me. I look at the screen and tears tickle down my cheeks. Some people wont be alive to say this to their loved ones.

How can one kill an innocent while still believe in God? Which religion preaches killing of an innocent? Whether you are a Muslim or a Hindu or an American or an Indian, a life is a gift of God, how can one take it away in the name of God? Give me an answer to this then I can decide whether to believe in this or not.

The Other Side

2006-08-22T22:16:00.000-07:00

My Window - It protects me from rain and sun but lets in the fresh air when I feel suffocated. I can close it when I want to hide and I can open it when I want to look outside at the other world that exsists with my own world. The world that might not be as good as mine or at times maybe much better than mine.

That window can be the window of my cab with which I go to my office. In the afternoon, speeding on the highway I can see buildings standing tall on the one side of the road and a flat span of slums on the otherside. The buildings with so many people living dont know whats happening to the people living next to them while in slums people living in one room can feel the pain and joy of all the people living around them. The cab stops at a red light signal and a big car comes and stop next to me. I see a person reading newspaper and a sleek laptop lying beside him. He is wearing gold frame glasses and the windows are up to indicate a/c is on. The money is definately there but is he happy? Sitting on the other side of my window...am I happy? The signal turns green and a bike rushes past my car and I see a young guy with a flashy helmet rushing past. Makes me wonder, whats the hurry? Why everyone is rushing somewhere these days? While my car slowly picks up the speed, I see an old man sitting under the shade of a huge baniyan tree selling newspapers. Atleast someone is sitting peacefully in this age of unneccessary speed...

Then there is the sliding window of my home, where I can sit comfortably and look outside and beyound into the open space. That is my way to the outside world during night when I usually come back from office. Its beautiful to look outside when the whole world is sleeping. The magic of sleep creates an aura of silence which seems pure after the whole day of work. Beyond my window stands an almond tree, which stands there battered by winds and rains. The fruit hanging there respective of the fact that all leaves have fallen and the tree itself looks weak. In that almond tree I see the reflection of most of us as however winds of change try to bend us, we protect our dearest ones with atmost protection. However tired we are we never let go of the things, people or memories which are dearest to us. Beyound that is an open area where the construction of a new building is taking place. Most of the people live in make shift arrangments. There is smoke rising from one of the tin house there. Seeing that smoke makes me feel good...atleast the people inside had their meal. It starts raining. The smoke slowly fades away into the darkness and people run to take cover into their houses made up of tin roof and tin walls. Seems like a doll house from my window with real people living inside it. The voice of the rain drowns the silence I am used to. Seems like rain got tired of the silence of night...

So what does the world on the other side of your window tells you? What stories stick to your mind when you look outside into the world which at times is so different from your that it makes you feel...will they ever meet?

Its Summers Again

2006-05-05T05:48:00.000-07:00

The fan is humming slowly. Lying on the bed and facing the fan in my small room of hostel, I see it going round and round non-stop. The humid air weighs down on me like a thousand kilo. The sweat never leaves my skin. I again look at the fan thinking maybe it has stopped. Why can’t I feel the air? But when I look at the ceiling I realize the fan is still going round n round non-stop. This rhythmic motion of fan takes me to far of land, my home - Udaipur.

The summer holidays, after long, cruel and grilling exams, was always a pleasant change. While, during exams I was sleepy all the time, summer holidays I used to be up early and waiting to go out. During exams I used to curse heat because the pen used to constantly slip out of my hand because of sweat, during holidays the scorching sun was least of my worries. The air in Udaipur is not least bit humid and is always fresh and crisp. Sunburns and sunstroke are common factor there. To beat the heat, my mom used to keep the fridge sufficiently stocked through the summer with all the goodies. There used be all kinds of juices, kayri paani(juice of raw mango) and ice-creams. After a hard day of playing around in the sun, when I used to get back home a glass full of cold milkshake or kayri paani used to be ready for me to gulp down.

Then there were Mangoes. Summer holidays are never complete without mangoes. My house has some 3-4 mango trees. However hot it is during summers, my permanent address during those days was - "on top of mango tree". I, along with my sister and brother, would try and reach the farthest of raw mango hanging from a very thin branch. My dog used to bark continuously. Maybe, he also wanted to join us. My grandmother used to curse us for picking mangoes from the tree before they were ripe. Those days, climbing on the walls, climbing trees were never a worry for us. We thought ourselves to be born Tarzans.

The scorching sun used to get tired during evenings and that would give us official permission to go out. That was the time when my friends and I used to hit FatehSagar. That’s a huge lake in between of the city. During evenings, the colors of the sky used to splash itself on the water of the lake. The lake used to look like a huge canvas of a very well known painter, known as, God! Riding my kinetic with my sister, cousins and friends along FatehSagar, treating ourselves to orange candy, laughing on worst jokes, noticing guys with good looks and trying all stupid stunts to attract their attention. When evening became night and when colors of the sky vanished into the darkness of night, we never noticed. It was time to head back home. Home cooked meal, pampered by my mother, dinner table full of my family and my dog barking for that extra bit of sweet mango from my plate. All these marked the end of the day. Post dinner, TV room used to be filled by my family trying to catch up on gossip, while we kids were trying to catch up on the all movies which we were not allowed to see during our exams.

Late nights, which are forbidden during school days and exams days, used to be a hard earned reward. When my mother used to look at me to tell us that the reward points are long over and its time to hit the bed, I had no choice. She was still the boss of our house. The water cooler, which is better than A/C in the dry heat, is switched on to keep the room cool. The day is sealed to end with a kiss from my parents and the lights are switched off. The humming sound of cooler and fan on the ceiling sounds sweet to ears. With a blink of an eye, I am back to my hostel room, sweating under the fan and missing those days, when summers meant freedom.

It's not just an Orange Candy...

2006-04-26T00:22:00.000-07:00

Orange candy. It's my favorite ice cream. I could never enjoy any other ice cream as much as I enjoy Orange Candy and this is the best thing to enjoy in hot, humid and sultry summer. Its sweet and its cold. Its made up of ice and flavored syrup only. Nothing to make mothers proud of while they give it to their children, but still the pleasure which comes from it, no other ice-cream can come near to it! The moment I take it out of the wrapper, the humid air around it creates a dense cloud of condensed vapors. I can feel those cold vapors on my nose and my mouth starts watering with the anticipation of what is coming. The moment I put it in my mouth the ice melts away to give the sweetest flavor. The ice, which melts in the mouth, sends the chill down till the stomach. My eyes shut automatically to cut away the disturbance which could take away the pleasure of having my favorite and one and only Orange Candy.

Every time I have an Orange Candy I get transported to the days when I was just 9-10 years old in Agra. I used to study in St. Patrick's School. The best thing about that school was, till 5th std there was no exams for us. We used to have class tests at regular interval and depending upon how we performed in those class tests, we were graded at the end of the year to be promoted to next class. Well, during those days, that was least of my worries. I used to worry about getting 10-10 in my class tests because that carried a promise, which my father had made to me. Every time I used to get 10-10 in class, I used to wait for my father to come home after office because he had promised me 1 Re if I scored 10-10 in class tests. That 1 Re was the most prized possession for me in those days because with that 1 Re I was able to buy an Orange Candy after school. When school used to get over I used to proudly go to the ice-cream man and buy myself one of those orange colored sweet and cold candy. When all the kids used to go to their respective rickshaw, I used to stand at the gate to show off, in front of everyone, my prized possession.

From those days, its not just an orange candy for me. It's a symbol of joy, pleasure and sense of achievement. It was not the matter of earning 1 Re. It was how I earned that money for myself. And hence, the joy and pleasure got stuck to that simple ice-candy with no nutritional value. Even today when I pull the candy out of its wrapper, that sense of achievement never betrays me. Though today its cost is 5 Rs and the money comes from my own pocket and not my father's, but still the flavor and cold and sweet sensation transports me back to the days when it was worth 10-10 marks in my test copy.

Mumbai Uncut.

2006-04-17T01:47:00.000-07:00

Its Friday night and when I looked at my watch its already 8 in the night. The best day of the week, but I am still in office, trying to send a product to the client. To make the matter worst, it's an optional holiday in our office and most of the people have either left early or didn't turn up. The effect, I am sitting in an empty office! The security guard comes and starts switching off the lights of the places where people are not working. The effect on me - I just want to scream and run out to freedom!

Atlast, the product is mailed to the client. I have a company to head back to hostel. His name is Rohit. Together we took a rickshaw to Chembur thinking as its a public holiday today we would not have face the wrath of traffic. The rickshaw picks up speed and I am longing to reach hostel. I look out side the rickshaw and wonder the joys of reaching home and finding home cooked meal laid for me by my mom. Suddenly, I miss my home so much, as these are the joys, which I can only dream off. I was shaken up from my dream when I realized that Rohit was speaking something to me. He was speaking something of traffic and then I realized that the rickshaw wasn't moving. I felt like crying when I saw the traffic in front of me. I prayed to god -"Please God, not today!!" I requested the autowala to take another route to which he readily agreed. As, soon as we took the turn we realized our mistake. The traffic wasn't moving there also and we were stuck in between. I cursed everyone and everything. Everybody who wanted to escape the traffic on the main road tried to take this short cut and the result, a bigger traffic jam! The lanes were so narrow, that at times I felt, if I would have stretched my hand outside the auto, it would have entered a house and I could have had a cup of tea with the family inside, while sitting in the auto.

Even autowala got tired and said "You trust me on this one, I'll take you through another route which I seldom take". Having nothing to loose, we agreed to him. He took us through the slum of Narayan Nagar. Well, the luck was definitely in my favor as we got stuck there too. The autowala, switched off the gas and relaxed himself on the narrow seat. Realizing that even I didn't have another other choice, I gave up the dream to reach hostel in time and I looked outside to pass my time. Outside, some kids were playing on the road. As a kid myself few golden years back, I used to play with marbles. In this game one has to throw the marbles on the ground and is asked to hit a particular marble. If one does that he gets the particular marble. Well, coming back to present, these kids on the road were playing the same game but with stones. The amazing part of all this was, they were really happy playing with whatever they could lay there hands on. In the game of throwing the stones, one kid got hurt and he started crying, but within few minutes he stopped crying and joined the game back. Then I realized, few more of such incidents and the kid will stop crying all together. The life on road will make him tough and here I was complaining about such trifle matters of life! Suddenly, all the anger inside me was wiped out by the smiles on those innocent faces.

Some kids noticed that I was looking at them, and when they realized that they were the center of the attraction, which they seldom get, they started putting up acts for us. There was music playing full blast in an auto right in front of us. Those kids took that as a chance and started dancing to the latest music of our own "Nasal King"!! One of the kid got some weeds from somewhere, they all took some and decorated it on their own heads. The dance was nothing different of what you see on Mumbai roads when Ganpati festival is going on. The jerky movements make me wonder - how come the bones don't dislocate on the joints? Within few minutes I was laughing my heart out. Encouraged by my laugh they climbed up the rickshaws back in front of us. Suddenly, our autowala shouted at them and they scrambled away! I was little upset on loosing my army of entertainment, but then our autowala started explaining us that if they fall they would come under our auto and people around wont see that it was the fault of their kids but would gather in large number to harm us in return.

Well, with nothing to do now, I turned my attention to our autowala and started talking to him. In the talks I gave my address to him and when I turned to see Rohit he gave me one of those looks telling me that I should not have had given up my address! I knew what I did was wrong but then I kind of trusted the guy who was trying his level best to make us reach our destination. The traffic started moving slowly and along with the slow pace our autowala was giving us the geography lessons of the area. "Now we are on top of Narayan Nagar hill", "dekho idhar the Muslim area ends and Hindu area starts" and so on. After a point I saw a clear road ahead and then I realized the reason of traffic jam. There was a PC placed on top of a very old and shaking table and with a bed sheet hung in front of it to give it an effect of curtain. There were people seated in front of it and there was loads of noise around. The crowd was in a very jubilant mood with everyone trying to speak something or the other. Then I realized, that its Friday movie especial day for them. The movie would play on a computer. As my auto passed this place, the time just froze for me for a second and I was transported to one scene in Swades where they showed that in villages, they are still using the projectors to see movies. How can such diverse things still manage to exist side by side?

I felt soft wind touching my face and I realized that traffic jam is over and our auto is flying. Our autowala told us to go till Vidhyavihar and crossover the station to take another auto to avoid another traffic jam. As we had totally surrendered to him, we didn't say anything except to nod in agreement. Finally, after 1 and half of traveling for a 20 minutes way and totally exhausted from the day's work, I paid the due fair and stepped out of auto. Then, I looked back to say Thank You to our autowala. In response he smiled to reveal pan smeared teeth and he raised his hand as a gesture, common to us Indians, as a way to give blessings. In that one second I saw love and best wishes for me in those tired eyes and come to think of it, I just knew him for 1 and half hour. A person whom I never saw before and whom, I am sure, wouldn't see again, left such a strong footprint on the sand of my heart that it would take another life to wash it away. What more can I say of this city - It makes you hard enough to wipe your own tears but it also gives you so much of love that it washes away all the hatred.

The Magic of FIVE...

2006-04-05T05:19:00.000-07:00

Monday - The piercing sound of alarm drills through my ears, with an extra energy and my eyes refuses to open up. The shock that the weekend is over still lingers around like a thick aroma of an incense stick and mind refuses to wake up! Well, its the worst day of the week...its Monday. Lying on my bed, when i hear the birds chirping and when the sun rays slowly fills up my room, it seems that God is really trying hard to cheer me up. I slowly, very slowly get up from my bed with just one thought on my head - "Where the hell, did the weekend go!" .The routine starts and I get ready for office. Makes me feel like bounded labor but cant help it. These working days kind of fills up my pocket which I so easily spend up on weekends. At office too, I see same feelings in the eyes of my colleagues. The work doesn't pick up speed till late in the afternoon. Thats because everyone is trying to adjust to the jolt of "another weekend gone"! Its only by evening, that the mind comes to term that its a working day. The bus ride back to hostel marks the end of another day, but within heart of heart I am happy because the day that ended is Monday...just 4 more days to go.

Tuesday - Alarm is still a jolt, which ruthlessly wakes me up from my sleep. Still lying on the bed, I wonder what if the clocks stops right here and right now (sounds like AB junior singing!) and I'll get all the time to sleep. It takes all the strength for me to get up and start my daily routine. Slowly, the sun also wakes up as if it is also deciding whether to come out or to sleep a little more. The breakfast tastes better, the tea tastes good and the air feels fresh and I wonder where were these things on Monday. Office looks better, the work starts on time rather there is energy to complete the work. Whether is con-call with clients, or it is sitting late to complete the work, I am ready to handle all with an energy which I didn't know was there in me. World seems to be a happy place as I am happy from inside. When the day gets over, I wonder where did it go as I was so busy doing work. The drive back home, whether its in bus or auto, makes me feel happy from inside and then it suddenly strikes me - just 3 more days to go...

Wednesday - I wake up before the alarm rings and wait for it to ring and then before the first sound penetrates through mobile, I switch it off and try to catch that sweet, seductive 5 minute sleep. After 10 minutes when my eyes open again to remind me that its time to get up, I try to convince myself to wake up as its already Wednesday and just 2 more days to go before the week ends. As the morning rays of sun dances in my hair, it feels as if even the sun is happy that's it Wednesday already. The birds are happy; the air smells of sweet flowers and incense that burns in our small little mandir in my room. Even office is bright with bright smiles on faces. The work seems to be good. Brain works with endless energy and when breakfast time becomes lunchtime and when lunchtime becomes evening teatime, I can't make out. In the evening when I come out of office the sun is smiling away to sunset as if it's waving me goodbye with a promise to meet me the next day. Back in hostel, weekend plans starts taking shape. There are always loads to do and loads of places to go. Mumbai as a city can always keep you on toes and that's what I love about this city. When my tired body lies on the bed and my head touches the soft pillow, my heart is dancing with joy - just 2 more days to go.

Thursday - My Thursday starts even before my faithful alarm rings. It's switched before even it dares to create the noise pollution. Sometimes it feels so amazing when you just lie on the bed early morning, see the light penetrate the darkness of night, feel the early morning chills which makes you snuggle into the blanket, the sweet and fresh smell of the morning. Then I slowly get up from my bed, not because I don't want to get up, just because these little things seems so precious at that time, I feel I'll disturb them if I am too quick. Thursday kind of slows me down. It's like yesterday but its not going to be the same as tomorrow. The work happens like the rest of the days until unless some PM needs the fire extinguisher to control the "fire" on the project. The day is relatively slow, because there is a wait for the preceding day. When the day finally gets over, I feel like doing "phew" because I just have to bear with just 1 more day.

Friday - Have you ever got a feeling when you really want something to get over fast, even though you know its not possible. Well, that how Friday is for me. A day has to have 24 hours i.e. 1440 minutes, and we definitely can't cut it short. But then it's so unfair. Right from the morning when I get up I just wait for the day to finish. In an attempt to make the day get over fast, I try to do things fast, thinking maybe if I am fast, the day too would get over fast. But then, earth being so bulky at the wrong places, we cant expect her to be fast. So, while I am all ready to start the weekend, the day, runs at its own pace. I can dance to any tune, I can laugh to worst jokes just because it's Friday. All the work in office gets postponed to Monday as its Friday. No one, including me, wants to take heavy work as no one, including me, wants to stay back late. Have you ever run out of class even before the bell rings to mark the end of the day in school? Well, if you haven't, then that's the best feeling and that's how I feel when I am ready to leave the office in the evening. It's the feeling of being free. Hostel is full of energy. All plans for the weekend are made. There is no urgency to sleep as there no early mornings the next day. The music is on, full blast with the feet tapping and hands moving in the air. Its ritual to mark the beginning of the auspicious period - The Weekend! Pledging to sleep till 10 or 11 in the morning, we finally hit the bed late in the night.

Saturday - Its 7 and I am wide-awake. I can't believe that it's Saturday. Its holiday, there is no office. I force myself to sleep again, convincing myself that I can sleep, as there is no office. Its 7:30, and my eyes open themselves as if trying to deny me the pleasure of sleeping late. I again force myself to sleep again. Then at 9 I finally get, fully satisfied with the sleep and being very sure that I can't sleep anymore. The weekend has begun. Standing at the window, stretching to full extend and smelling the fresh, warm air of morning makes me feel at the top of the world. The day begins with self-grooming, extends to lavish lunch and proceeds to Colaba, or Bandra bargaining for the smallest of thing. It ends with a beautiful sunset at the Bandstand or Marine Drive with sea winds playing with my hair and my eyes dancing to the music of happiness. A more lavish dinner follows and we drag ourselves to hostel for the night. Tired but still in mood we go over the purchasing of the day and feel bad if we didn't bargain enough or pledge to return back to the same place to buy something that we left because out ego won't give into buying that thing for something more that we decided! Feeling great that there is one more day to go we hit the bed...

Sunday - Get up at 9, eat breakfast, search for a movie post lunch, have lunch and sleep in the afternoon. This is heaven. Get up by 3 or 4, and rush for the movie. By evening, when the movie is over, depression starts sinking in. Gosh, weekend is over. It's Monday tomorrow. We have a sumptuous dinner and then drag ourselves to hostel. Once back at hostel, we force ourselves to prepare for the next day...Monday. Sleeping with a heavy heart, I console myself - Just 5 more days to go...

Shantaram - The Book

2006-03-23T21:11:00.000-08:00

What do Richard Attenborough & Gregory David Roberts have in common?

Shantaram - a beautifully written book on Mumbai. The book, is not only just about mumbai. Its about the way author has felt about this city, seen it and has written about it in a manner that no Mumbaikar has ever come close to it. But for you to relate to it, you should have an exprience of Mumbai - the city of slums.

While reading the book, I could sense the love he has for this city, the city where he was not born, the city where he didn't grow-up, the city where he didnt get married or spend his early, better years of life. The way he has sketched each and every character, made me feel the characters were standing right next to me. I could feel the tears and laughter of every person in the book because somewhere in this city I have seen them. I could feel the evil side of the characters because every day I read about some of them in papers. I could feel the crowd, because I belong to the crowd of this city.

Before I read Shantaram, I always had a feeling of disgust for slums. For me they were unwanted people distroying the city and its beauty. While reading his book, I realised that even such in-human places have people living there, people who have a heart to love and a mind to dream. They came here to look for better opportunities, but then even I came for the same thing miles from my home town. Then they are no different than me. All the things that seperates me from them is too materialistic, like a posh office building with a/c, clothes bought with branded lables and a solid roof to sleep underneath each night.

He has written about the beauty of this city and tolerance of its people. Speaking about people of Mumbai, little piece from from his book - " They are not perfect, ofcourse. They know how to fight and lie and cheat each other and all the things that all of us do. But more than any other people in the world, the indians know to love one another. India is 6 times the size of France, but has almost 20 times the population. If there were a billion frenchmen living in such a crowded space, there would be rivers of blood. As everyone knows, french are the most civilised people in Europe. Without love, India would be IMPOSSIBLE!" . Isn't it so true. The floods in Mumbai on 26th July 2005, proved it, when compared to Cyclone Katrina which hit USA. There were people all around always ready with a helping hand. I myself was so shaken up during that period, but this city took me into its arms and I never felt alone.

Right from bumblebee(thats what Gregory called our mumbai taxis), to special mitha paan with loads of coconut( I still can't relate coconut to paan!!!), to village on the sky(this one is for who will read the novel), to the winds of sea filling every senses of your body, to the most beautiful sunsets of my life, to the rythme of the local trains while you are travelling in it, to the mad rush which you will find here 24 hours of the day, to the love which people here are always ready to shower...I simply love this city because of all this and lots more.

Well, coming back to the question in the first sentence, "What do Richard Attenborough & Gregory David Roberts have in common?". Well, as we can make out from their names, both are not by any chance of Indian origin but one has directed the much acclaimed and an Oscar winning film called Gandhi and the other wrote Shantaram. Don't get me wrong. I am not comparing Gandhi & Shantaram. They are very different. All, I want to say here is - How we need people from other countries and nationality to remind us that we should be proud to be an Indian. Irony of the situation, people who did justice to our culture, our country, our Mahatama Gandhi by writting about it, making a motion picture of it, were not among the billions of Indians, but were from some other country and another culture.

I am a Rebel.

2006-02-28T00:36:00.000-08:00

In last few days, some incidents have greatly affected the way I think and perceive people around me. They all mean different things to different people, but this what they mean to me.

Raang De Basanti -

A movie, which didn't remain a just a movie for me. When I went to see the movie I went with a free mind, thinking it to be one of the lot, which comes out of Bollywood these days. When I came out after watching the movie, I was totally shaken up. For me the movie was not about how Aamir khan and his friends took the decision to kill a high profile minister. It was not about why commandos were sent to kill young college students who were already repenting for what they did. Its was not even about MIG pilots getting killed and the govt not taking the responsibility but is ready to wash its hands off by making a patriotic dead pilot a scape goat for its mistakes. The movie was about ME. I am like what Aamir and friends were like in movie. I always have fun in life, while I easily blame these corrupt politicians for everything that is going wrong in my country. I blame corruption but if my work has to be done in a slow govt office I always try to find a short way out. I make face at the garbage on the street but wouldn't think twice before throwing something on the street. I blame the bad traffic everywhere but while I am driving I don't even follow lanes properly. Its no use blaming the politicians, because we elected them. We have to correct ourselves first before we blame others.

Cartoon of Muhammad -

There is a world over staging of protest for this cartoon. I always wondered, what could have been so drastic that people have come out on streets to protest over a cartoon. Out of those thousands people who came out on streets to protest, how many of them have actually seen the cartoon? I searched on google (I am hard core googlian) and found the following link. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jyllands-Posten_Muhammad_cartoons. You can yourself see it and don't worry no one is going blow you up with a bomb for seeing it. Yes, that's what I want to talk about, the fear of these religious fanatics. Which religion preaches the killing of innocent people? Which religion preaches violence? Yet you find that in the name of religion these people are killing innocent people, giving guns in young hands, creating rifts between peace loving people. The cartoon talks about what Islam is doing to world. Well, I want to talk about every religion here. Every religion is going corrupt. As they say "Power corrupts everyone". We have given power to religion and has corrupted it too and to such an extent that the same religion which used to tell us to respect life, in today's time kills without any reason. I refuse to believe in such a religion and refuse to respect those who preach such a thing.

The Jassica Lal Case -

"Would the accused please stand up!".
He doesn't.
"Would the eye-witness please stand up!".
He isn't there.
At this point a voice say - "Would you please take the blind lady out of the court, we don't need her anymore!".

Whether is Jassica Lal or Best Bakery Case or Tandoori Kaand, politics has guaranteed the release of the accused. I read the polls done by news papers asking people who would stand up to a case like Jassica Lal. All the newspapers are going crazy over her case. They say "Justice delayed is Justice denied". There are debates over who is right and who is wrong. One of my friend even said that all these cases, which are politically motivated have women involved. Every one of us has something to say. Anyone of you remember, Damini, the movie. The wife has to give her statement against her bother-in-law. The family tries everything right from emotional blackmail to kicking her out of the house. Why? Just because she decides to stand for the truth. Even then she stands up and gives her statement which the only truth and nothing else but the truth. Three hours movie is over and everyone goes home. Well, for all of us, our life is not a three our movie. I don't blame those who go free after putting pressure on people. Everyone wants to live. Why should they be blamed when we ourselves don't have the guts to stand against them. We are scared for our lives, our family and our children and until we have that fear, people in power would always find a way to escape and even return to normal lives. As they say "Ones weakness is someone else's strength".

MUIP - Please bear with us for a Better Tomorrow

2006-02-01T01:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I started from office little late so I missed my company bus. I had a friend along with me who was also going to the same place where I was heading to, so we decided to share the auto. When we came out of office we saw the road was completely choked up with traffic. The reason for this permanent traffic jam is that the government has decided to expand the roads and for this to happen they need to dig up the roads. Now to do this they have dug up the roads on both the sides leaving very little space for the traffic to move. The dust from all the digging up and the smoke from all the standing vehicles made it difficult to even breathe. Irritated with it all I looked around to see if anything is moving and I saw the sign board - "MUIP - Please bear with us for a Better Tomorrow" !!!

We realized that its no use taking an auto because the rate at which the traffic was moving, the auto-meter would move faster than the auto itself. So, we decided to walk down till wherever the traffic becomes bearable! Well, in Mumbai it's easier said than done. There wasn't any space left to walk. Traffic was occupying all the space on the road. The only place left for walking was the dug up area, which was filled with wet cement. We tried to walk on the huge moulds of mud. My feet got all dirty. With every step I feared losing my balance. I looked up in frustration and the signboard - "MUIP - Please bear with us for a Better Tomorrow" stared blank at my face!!!

My friend suggested that it would be a better idea to cross over and walk against the traffic. At least we'll get some space to walk. We crossed the road and started walking. Even that side of road was dug up. The BEST bus stop was over turned and people didn't know where to stand and wait for bus. The boards, which displays the bus numbers, were standing in a far corner of the road where no one with proper eyes could read it and if one even tried to reach the board to read it wouldn't return in one piece. The amazing part is while they have taken the liberty to dig up everything, they have left the illegal shops and slum areas on the encroached land so carefully as if they are the prized position of the Government of Maharashtra. My friend and I kept walking for nearly half an hour without even realizing. Every time I looked to the other side of road, the traffic was at standstill. While walking we crossed an area, which was completed. It gave an impression of what this road would look like once the construction is complete. In one corner there was a huge pile of remains of the construction material and stones, and in the center was the sign board - "MUIP - Please bear with us for a Better Tomorrow" !!!

After half an hour of walking we came to Saki Naka signal. The traffic scene had not changed on the other side, which we were supposed to take. Relieved that we didn't take the auto, we looked ahead to see how the traffic was on the road ahead. We saw some relief there and decided to take the auto and head towards home. On the way to home I couldn't help but think that while walking the stretch it would have required just a slip to land oneself in hospital. The most amazing thing is if they want to dig up something, it is done almost over night but when the time comes to make it, it takes ages for them to complete it. Wherever the construction is taking place, there are no proper lighting systems. One of my colleague in office once took a snap of a overturned jeep in the crater which as usual was easy for them to dig than to fill up.The image you see at the top is the one I am talking about. It even got published in Mid-Day here in Mumbai. By the time they'll finish filling up all the places that they have dug up, it would be time to build 6-lane road instead of 4-lane road, which at present they are trying to build. At such time the message on the sign board sounds ironic...at least I don't know which "Tomorrow" they are talking about because as we all know - "Tomorrow never comes" !

New Year Trek to Siddhgarh

2006-01-10T03:57:00.000-08:00

A very Happy New Year.

Well, 31 Dec of every year is that time of the year for which the people start planning much in advance. For a person like me who lives in Mumbai money is also a big criteria because special occasions like New Year's Eve is pretty costly affair. If it would have been value for money it would have been ok, but they charge you as if you are going to get a home pick in limousine and you would be given a royal treatment but you end up in a place which is so crowded that one doesn't get enough space to shake a leg, one has to fight for drinks n food and when you get in the mood to enjoy its time to close.

Thanks to Kartik who took the initiative to organize something very different this New Year's eve. We went for 2 days trek to a place called Siddhgarh near Kalyan in Mumbai. The planning for it started much in advance. Kartik and Puneet organized everything, right from pick-up points to music and drinks. We were completely spoiled, as we didn't have to bother about anything.

This was my first experience of a trek on a New Year’s eve. Quite aware that my mobile won't be working and I would miles away from civilization I climbed up the mountain to seek something different. I was not in best of shape, I must agree and hence it made the climb up little difficult. I slipped a couple of times and yes it was painful but it didn’t matter that time. I was so busy having a blast of time. Though it was difficult, it was worth every drop of sweat and every layer of dust on my face. Going back to nature made me realize the importance of silence, of observing the beauty around me and of friends around me. For every hand that was raised to help me, I knew I had someone who cared for me. As we climbed up, we saw a snake's skin in one piece. There were beautiful little flowers blooming along the path. Dried leaves covered the path. The branches of the trees along the path touched me to wish me a safe journey. Slowly, it started growing dark. I saw the most beautiful sunset of my life. It was like God speaking through his eternal light from behind the mountains. Between the mountains sun slowly said good-bye with a promise to meet us in a New Year with new hopes and dreams. It was a moonless night, which made the surrounding even more beautiful for me. Climbing up in dark was quite a challenge, as I didn’t know where I was stepping. When I looked up at the sky and it was an amazing experience. I had never seen so many stars in my whole life. The sky seemed like a black velvet cloth where the jeweler has rolled out all its diamonds for everyone to see.

Slowly and steadily we made it to our campsite. Someone switched on the torch and we could see the tents all at a comfortable distance, laid down on a clean area. The tea was ready and we all crashed on the ground with the bags still on our shoulders. Hot tea with snacks arrived and our warm clothes came out. It was then that I realized that it was cold. Tired and shivering, I felt happy. We sang songs and danced too. Food was ready and while we were eating we started our count-down for welcoming a New Year. Everyone shouted "Happy New Year!!!” I looked down in the valley and I could see the fire works happening in Mumbai and I knew I was away from that crowd who would be so drunk that they won't even realize that a New Year has slipped in. I was away from the city of glitter, false smiles, girls drunk and falling on their drunk boy-friends and a city of pretence. I felt happy to be where I was and I hugged my friends and wished everyone who was there a Happy New Year. Though I did miss my parents and sister and all those whom I love so much.

After wishing everyone we all gathered around the fire and talked about various topics. It was getting windy and I was tired. I proceeded towards my tent. Well, if climbing up was difficult, climbing into the sleeping bag was hilarious. We were 4 in one tent. After adjusting ourselves one by one we realized something was not right. In that small tent we tried to adjust in our sleeping bags by turning around in that little space. It took time but once we all got comfortable I realized it was my first night out in open in a jungle! I was damn scared. First of snakes, then of wild cats and then out of the blue moon I remembered "Blair Witch Project" and I couldn't sleep the whole night!

The morning was beautiful. In the night, if the valley seemed a large stretch of darkness, in the morning I realized it was so full of life. Birds were cherping, people around me were waking up and coming out of their tents with a sleepy face. Slowly, the sun peeped out from behind a mountain. Even in winters, everything around us was so green. Standing right at the end of the mountain, watching the steep slope all covered with trees and rocks, with cold wind gushing through my hair and breathing the fresh air, I realized that simple things in life are the most beautiful things to experience and at times doesn’t cost like a rocket too. I had never felt so fresh.

After little rappeling and breakfast we started our climb down. It had started getting hot and all we wanted to do was reach the base camp. I was tired with all the climbing, celebrations and of course all that thinking too! People got lost in the way, we had to wait for some and some had to wait for us but in the end when we all reached the base camp, it was a great feeling of achievment.

It was not only related to doing something different, it was more of knowing my physical strength, going to a place as beautiful as Siddhgarh and seeing nature so closely. I know I am city girl. All this is only good for a few days, but whatever little time I had spent there, it made me feel fresh like never before. On the first day of the year I wasn't cribbing about no-value for money parties or getting stuck in traffic or breathing pollution or cursing everyone in govt! I was happy and fresh and ready to start another year with more strength and willingness. It was an amazing experience and I would always look forward for another chance.

Mr. Amitabh Bachchan - The Emotional Factor

2006-01-09T01:43:00.000-08:00

I have never been a die-hard fan of Mr. Amitabh Bachchan but these days due to constant bombarding of his image everywhere I couldn't help but stop and think about him as person who seems to be everywhere. From posters on the back of BEST bus generating controversies over smoking of cigars to every advertisement on TV to KBC to every movie that comes in theater these days. India as a nation is breathing and living on Mr. Amitabh Bachchan these days!

The Bachchan family has become the First Family of Indian Cinema. The Kapoors are no longer visible with only Kareen Kapoor coming in newspapers for all the reasons except for her work! Whether it's a new movie or a new advertisement or it's the small screen. Mr. Amitabh Bachchan seems to be everywhere. So, at times I wonder what does this person has to attract all the attention and respect he gets.

Those who are die-hard fans of him and those who are not would know his life's story very well. All the magazines and news paper have made sure that we all know it, its another question whether we really are interested in it or not. He, started as a wanna be actor. The articles in magazines and newspapers have told that people didn't recognize him as an actor then. Everything was wrong about him, his height, and his voice. He even failed in an audition at the All India Radio! He had to struggle a lot. His first film 'Saat Hindustani' (1969) failed miserably, with Mr. Bachchan going almost unnoticed. It was his 13th film 'Zanzeer' which shot him to fame and we talk about 13 being unlucky!

Well, today everyone who wants to direct a HIT film wants Mr. Bachchan in it. He alone, its believed, can make or break a film. Films like Black proved that he is one of the finest actors in Indian cinema today but there are films where his presence was done to just pull the crowds like in "Kyun Hogaya Na". Then there is "Kaun Banega Crorepati" series. So many game shows came but none could surpass the popularity of KBC whether they promised more money or whether they had other celebrities like Anupam Kher and Manisha Koirala! There is a whole range of products for which Mr. Bachchan does the advertising. From soap bars to best clothing line to cold cream, he is everywhere. If you sit and watch TV for half an hour you would be able to count his presence more than the actors for which you are watching TV!

Can you imagine any other actor taking the place of Mr. Bachchan in Black or Anand or Agnipath? Why can't any other game show become as popular as KBC? Why can't we have a "Pappu Pass Hogaya" without Mr. Bachchan? When he was hospitalized recently, Mr. Bachchan occupied the front page of every leading newspaper for almost a week; they even gave his pulse and diet! Wasn't there any other news important enough to occupy the first page? Everyone was praying for his long life. The hospital was flooded with newsmen, well wishers and also by those who have their money running on Mr. Bachchan. I got a feeling that if (god forbid!) he had expired PM would have been forced to declare a National Holiday!!

What is it, which makes this person so popular for us Indians? Is it the feeling that a common person can also find a place among starts, which attracts everyone to him? Is it because he gives strength to the belief that "Its 50% hard work and 50% LUCK"? Is it because everyone lives his or her dreams through him? I am sure of one thing...the popularity of him has nothing to do with his acting skills. Why we have so many good actors like Nasruddin Shah, Om puri, Nana Patekar...etc. For him it's the Emotional Factor that no other actor could generate. It's only the Emotional Factor that makes him so big that he can pull off any movie or TV serial or any number of advertisement or a whole nation on his shoulder alone. I am sure it has to be this because I, myself couldn't address him without a 'Mr." prefix through out and come to think of it...he is just doing his job!

Life's Second Chance

2005-12-06T06:15:00.000-08:00

Right from the days when we enter school to crossing over to college and then to jobs each and every one of us has always prayed to God for a second chance in life. I remember when in school exams I used to realize a silly mistake, how I wished I had a second chance. Then in college, during practical exams, if one reading used to go wrong, I used to wonder why couldn't I have a remote control for life where I could rewind that one moment. How I wish I could have those days of college where having fun was the main agenda of life! When I was happy for that first Valentine gift, how I longed to live that moment again and again. I am not married, but I am sure those who are would think of that special time again and again, those with kids would always remember that particular moment when they held their newborn kid for the first time. The list can go on, but how many of us got that second chance to live those moments again?

I met a couple recently that was given a second chance in life. I was visiting my sister in Pune. Nothing special. I just love being there. I don't have an elder sister or brother, but when I am with her I never feel bad about it. Even their friends have accepted me as one of their own. I just love being there, in her house, with jijaji teasing her lovingly, with her dog always trying to draw my attention. This weekend was also no different. I was busy watching TV, hogging pizzas and sleeping. Then I on Saturday evening I got an invitation for an engagement party. Its sounds normal...but it was not. The engagement party was of an elder sister of one of the closet friend of my sister. The engagement was of Sabina and Sunil. It was going to be a second marriage for both of them and both of them have kids.

Sabina lost her husband in mysterious circumstances. He was in Navy ( I guess, I am not sure). He was going from Mumbai to Pune in train. Something happened in between and he didn't make it home. Sunil is divorced. Sabina has two kids, elder son in 9th and younger daughter in 5th. Sunil has two kids whose elder son is in 10th and younger daughter is in 8th. Both have kids old enough to understand what's happening in their parent's life. Yet, I saw them smiling though out the ceremony. With kids of this age, one wonders how did the kids accept it all. A person like me who watches a movie every weekend, I thought that, it would have been a highly melodramatic event. But maybe it's only in movies and not in real life just like one would never really shout "Kutte mein tera khoon pijaunga" in real life.

The ceremony was just like any other engagement party. Loads of stuff to eat, drink and smoke. The Bride to-be was looking ravishing in red and the Groom to be was looking smart in suit on a hot evening. Everyone was happy. Parents, friends and well wishers. Kids were taking their parents snaps. Sabina and Sunil were talking to everyone and smiling like every bride and groom does. If I would not have known the background, I would have had never realized that it was their second chance to life.

Every person has a right to live his own life. If they would have thought what the kids might say, they would have had spent their platinum years alone. It's a cycle of life. Birds learn to fly to leave their nest empty. So do kids after they are grown up. What life does our parents have when we leave for better opportunities? I guess every parent should be given a chance to live their life like they want. We kids always shout of generation gap. We kids always think that we live our parents dreams and we not given a chance to live our own life.... how many of us would encourage our parents who are alone to start their life with a new partner? How many of us would be happy if our parents would like a second chance in Life?

A little lesson from life...

2005-11-16T04:33:00.000-08:00

You will never be happier than you expect. To change your happiness, change your expectation.

This is a famous happiness quote by Bette Davis

Happiness is relative to what we think, which age we are in and what ambitions do we have in life.

When I was a child, an orange candy could make me happy. As I grew up, my expectations from life changed and so did the definition for happiness. My happiness was linked to my mark sheet at sometime in life, and then it was linked to how I look, then to admission to a good college and then to getting a good job. When I look back, I realized I was never happy with whatever I had. It was like looking at the horizon and thinking if I'll reach there my journey would end. But we all know horizon can never be reached! It's just a trick, which our eyes play with us.

Ambitions and expectations are also like tricks that we ourselves create. We are never satisfied with what we have. We always want to achieve what others have. A simple example, imagine yourself in an auto-rickshaw standing on a traffic light. It's very hot. You are sweating like anything and cursing everything around you. And then you take a look outside your rickshaw. You see a Mercedes comes and stops right next to your rickshaw. The windows are rolled up, so definitely A/C is on. The people inside are looking as fresh as you must have looked before you stepped out from your home. Looking at them, I am sure you will instantly wish "If only I had that kind of car..." You have wished for something, which someone else has. You have made yourself unhappy for that moment.

I am not saying its wrong or right. Even I have wished for it at some point of time. All I am doing is, justifying the statement that our happiness is linked to our expectations from our lives. If we will always try to achieve someone else's dreams, how can we possible get time to achieve our own dreams.

There are many books in market, which tell you to "How to be happy" or something like that. I am not one of those. All I want to say is, through my life I have learned that to be happy I don't need to look on my side from a rickshaw, see a Mercedes and feel that I should have the same car. I can be very happy in my rickshaw too because at least I am not standing in the sun at a bus stop and waiting for the bus in the heat. I know what I can achieve and what I can't. After all, I am not perfect. But yes, I can try and be the best in whatever I do. Once I realize this, nobody could stop me from being happy.

A very dear friend of mine has said this - "Not everybody thinks like you, simply because they have not led the life you have been leading, so stop blabbering what you would have done." . So, this is certainly not a lecture on how you can be happy because only you can decide how you can be happy. It's just a little experience from my life. I hope it helps you too.

A hard days night

2005-10-05T04:31:00.000-07:00

It's been a hard day's night, and I been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright...
----Lines from a song of Beatles called "A hard days night".

Today when I got up in the morning, this song kept playing in my head. I don't know how it suddenly popped up in my head. But that doesn't deny one fact; I have experienced the same in last few days.

My alarm rings exactly at 5:45 in the morning and like a morning routine I shut it off and struggle to get out of bed. I sleep facing the window. Its still dark outside. It takes a huge will power to push myself out of bed, it's time for me to go for my daily swim. I open the door and see the door of Sonali and Rashmi still closed. Greed of sleeping little more over takes me and I climb into the bed thinking no one is going. Within 5 minutes a cute little head pop-ups over me. That's Rashmi, asking me to get up too. I drag myself out of bed and walk towards washbasin and start brushing. While brushing I think of the events that await me. The mailbox full of client mails telling us we are not working properly even though we work 12 hours a day, mails from colleagues who think poor jokes would make a person smile, mails from some stupid loan company in USA trying to sell loans to me in India! I look of out the window and see the sun coming out lazily too. Wish I could just go back to bed and sleep all through the day! Rashmi and Sonali are ready and I rush to keep up with them. By the time I am out of hostel I am happy that I got up. Swimming really refreshes me up for the day ahead. Get to meet people who are above 40 and still can win a race against me. This one-hour of swim is loads of fun and a little exercise too. In all a great start to a long and tiring day!

By the time I come out of swimming pool, sun is shinning and birds are chirping. The air is fresh and I feel I can take on the world and smile a little but when I think of the day ahead, my smile suddenly drops to a frown. The road to my office is full of dust and potholes. The traffic boils the blood and people don't stop honking even when they know no one is moving. Once I get back to the hostel, getting ready picks up speed. Not because I am eager to go to office, but because I am getting late. Some how manage to reach bus stop on time. I stand there to wait for bus and right ahead of me a small kid waits in front of me for money. He tries to make all sorts of faces, thinking I would feel bad and give him some money. But I just try to stop myself from laughing. Wonder where will he go if he is given a chance in our own Bollywood!!!

I can never miss my company bus. It's like a parrot, from deep jungles of Africa, who have suddenly found a place in Bombay. Its bright green, yellow and at some places orange too. Some windows don't have a glass pane and if there are then it wont close. Anyways, it provides safe means of transport to office for free, who am I to complain. Let people also enjoy the colors of life, what if it comes laden on a company bus.

As I enter the office, from a sleeper I turn fighter. Open my mailbox. Delete all the junk, read what is to be read and start the work. There are always last minutes changes, "Aaj hi jana hai" deliverables. The products, which went day before, came back with loads of changes along with a big bug sheet, with columns, which decides our salaries - " Bugs closed by team", "Bugs closed by reviewer". It's the matter of life and death while closing these bugs. I have lunch to fill up my stomach, rarely noticing how the food tastes. I rush back to my cubical and start the marathon race to finish everything before "EOD", which is the most frequently used word to say "End Of Day". Phones ring to tell me that I have missed something, while I try and change them; phone rings again to tell me leave it as it is. In between all this I have conference calls to attend to listen the client's complains, as if mails weren't enough. By the time the product is ready from my side its late evening and I have clearly missed my company bus back to hostel. I look out of the window near my seat for the first time of the day and look down at people rushing home. I feel sad at times, as I don't have home to go back to. No hot homemade food is waiting for me on the dinning table. The phone rings suddenly and I just feel like jumping out of the window. I try and answer the phone in normal tone but I clearly fail to do so. The person on the other hand say "Ohhhh...I guess we have missed one of the bug list" and I wonder what it is going to take for this day to end! I jump into work once again and try to finish off work in time to reach my hostel in time for the deadline.

By the time my day ends in office its 9 in the night. Work is done, though I know the next day I'll have a mail in my inbox from client with a big bug list attached. I am totally drained out and decide on taking an auto from office back to hostel. My mobile phone rings and I smile. It's a call from friends in hostel, who would be waiting for me for dinner. I am happy to leave office and go back to the hostel. Told them to keep food for me and not to wait.

The moment I reach the road, I feel like crying. The road is completely jammed. Nothing is moving! I just see in amazement. At 9:30 in the night, where do so many people come from? As if crowd on the road is not enough, people are hanging out of buses too. Forget taking the bus to hostel, its painful to even look at it. Can feel the pain of people who are crammed up inside it. What the hell...I start walking. Before I realize I have walked nearly half way. I stop and try and search for an auto. At last, I find one and try and relax since the day started. As soon as I relax, a big truck comes and stands next to my auto and blows all the black, polluted air it can gather into my auto. All I can do is curse the driver in every possible way! I reach hostel and when I look at the meter to pay the fare my heart skips a beat. Wished, I had taken that over-crowded bus. I pay the amount as fare, which would have got me a value meal in Mc Donald's. I try hard to look at the meter to see if it had been tampered with, but then decide what the heck. Maybe even this auto wala might have had a hard day. I decide to pay the fare and get out of the auto.

I cross the road, enter hostel and into my room. All my friends are chatting in my room and as soon as I enter their giggles and laughter greet me. Food is already there for me. Sonali and Rashmi got it for me. They sit around me, chat with me while I have my food. Rashmi is the first one to realize that there is no water to drink and Sonali is the first one to get up and get it for me. All of us talk about our day in office and I realize I am not alone. We laugh over silly matters and console each other on serious ones. Try to share some jokes, talk about movies and gossip about the other girls in our hostel. We try to forget about office and the tensions that come along with it.

Its 11 in the night and I realize I have hardly got time for myself. I force myself to read a book, but my eyes close. I decide its time to go to sleep. I switch off the lights and snuggle into my warm bed. It's a hard day ahead tomorrow. I close my eyes and feel happy to back to the place where I belong.

The temple...Siddhivinayak

2005-09-01T22:09:00.000-07:00

Siddhivinayak. It's a name, which brings hope, faith and respect for people in Mumbai and across India. With a major Ganpati festival approaching, I couldn't help but write about Ganpati bappa, who has ruled the city of Mumbai like anything. Nothing auspicious starts without his blessings. He is there at the entrance of the home, on meters on autorickshaw, on every shelf of gift shop. Marriages don't take place without him. We have siddhivinayak sweets, shiddhivinayak refreshments and a friend of mine, Vaibhavi, told me they even have siddhivinayak dairy! No other God can even come close to the popularity which our dear Ganpati bappa enjoys.

The temple of Siddhivinayak is situated at Prabhadevi. Some of my friends and I from hostel, decided to visit this temple one Sunday early morning. We decided on early morning because there is usually a long queue of people to visit this temple. To avoid the crowd we met at 6:30 at the entrance of the temple. One of the first things that struck me when I visited Siddhivinayak temple was the security. A friend of mine, Rashmi, had written in her blog - "At times it makes you wonder, who is this security for...for God or for us?" The same feeling even I experienced! The sand bags, the long sophisticated rifles, men in uniform, made me wonder - Are we at the right place? As we move on, the shock of security is replaced by the shock of sudden arrival of people all around us trying to sell "chadhava". "Hain madam idhar se lo...chappal idhar hi utar do...idhar phool ache hain..." Totally confused I just stopped where I was standing and someone came and pushed a basket loaded with sweets, garlands and aggarbattis into our hand. I looked around as to whom I should pay and comes a reply "Aree madam lelo, paise baad mein dedena!!" but then there no such thing as free lunch in this world. After the required things have been bought, all those people who were surrounding us suddenly vanish. Surprised, I look around and notice that they have moved on to some other approaching people. Then I realize, our faith is their business.

After all this, we move on for actual darshan. There is maze of bamboo that we had to cross to get inside the temple. Once inside we saw a small queue of people moving slowly. We went and joined the queue. Moving slowly and in no hurry I realized, that there was absolutely no crowd and I felt happy about it as we won't have to fight for one glimpse of God. If I had come on a Tuesday, which is considered to be the day of Lord Ganesha, I would had to wait for hours before I could even place my feet in temple.

Once inside, it seemed we were totally cut of from the world out side, the world of heavy security, traffic and pollution. In one corner a small speaker is playing soft chants. There is faint smell of flowers and agarbattis. No one is shouting or screaming. Its surprising, even children are quite and following there parents. Faith does wonders to all. In front of me in the queue was a young couple. Wife was holding a cute little bundle in her arms. The child was very young and was fast asleep too. I looked at the child and wondered has this child come with the faith in God or the life he'l live will make him believe in Him.

Ultimately we arrive for what we had come. The Idol of Ganesha is in striking saffron color with a silver dhoti and a gold crown sitting beautifully on his head. Its said that its one of the rarest idol of Lord Ganesha as it has its trunk on the left side. It's so loaded with garlands that you can only see an innocent face. The idol shines in loads of lights and gold that surrounds it and the roof. Everything inside is beautifully decorated. Looking at the idol, I forgot everything. The idol, though lifeless, gave me hope. Hope not only for me but also for everyone I know. Felt as if something there was pulling out all the negative energy inside me. It seemed that the moment had stopped, but then someone from behind said softly "Keep Moving" and I realized that there are others waiting behind me. I gave one last look and prayed for everyone I know and moved on.

Coming out I saw small group of people gathered in a group and I couldn't help but smile. There in front of me, in the center of the crowd, sitting proudly facing Lord Ganesha is a silver mouse, known as vehicle for Lord Ganesha, in Sanskrit Mushak, in Hindi Vahan. People believe if you say something in its ear, it gets conveyed to Lord Ganesha. Old, young, student, employed or unemployed everyone was trying there luck. Do I call this escapism or faith? Do I call this a ritual or blind faith or superstition? I choose not to question this. I sat down quietly and watched people making their wish into the ear of the mouse. After a while it was time to go. We got up and having a last look at Lord Ganesha we came out feeling refreshed, calm and positive.

I know some people do not believe in God. Even I, at times find it difficult to believe in something that is made of lifeless stone or wood. May be my belief in God is because in today's world when everything is corrupt, bad and ugly I need one thing to hold on to, one thing to believe in. I know God cannot do miracles for me. But by believing in him, I get faith, hope, strength and belief in myself and I believe that if I want I can create miracles for myself.

A day in Mumbai Local trains

2005-08-25T22:28:00.000-07:00

What do you imagine when you hear the word "Mumbai"? Preity Zinta, Hrithik Roshan, Sharukh Khan or BIG shopping malls, Mercedes, Skoda or sea, beaches and babes.

Well they are a part of Mumbai. But if you ask the same question to a person who has been living and working in Mumbai, you will get a different answer. The answer will be - Local trains, Local Buses, traffic police (mamu to be more precise) and beggars.

One weekend in Mumbai is enough to know how local trains work. Though it takes 1 hr for me to travel to town side but I never realize how the time passes. The journey starts at the ticket counter.The moment I enter the area where tickets are avaible the first thing that comes into my mind is, can I go back? Seeing the long line of people makes me wonder from where do all these people come from? With a heavy heart I join the long queue of people waiting to get a ticket. The moment I stand in line, there comes a small hand poking me. I look down and I realise a small child is begging. I try to shoo the child off but it keeps pestering. I try to ignore and to do time pass I look around and i see a big board with numbers on it and after looking at it for a long time and I realise its a list of ticket rates from various stations. By looking at it I try to figure out what amount i would be required to pay. But before i could figure that out, I land up on window and when the questions about my destination are shot back, I am totally confused!!! "Ticket for Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus"...single or return...chuta do...by the time I get out of the line I don't even know whether its the right ticket or did I get the proper amount. But when I look back I realize its more trouble to ask than to move on. Hoping that everything I have in my hand is correct I proceed to platform.

There is separate compartment for ladies. One time the eunuchs in Mumbai wanted a separate compartment coz they felt they couldn’t decide which one to take, ladies or gents. Locating a ladies compartment is little tricky. You have to rely on your animal instinct. Search for a similar looking species group and silently join it. The major tussle starts when the trains comes on platform. The dupattas are tight around the waist and the purses hung crossly and I suddenly feel what would happen if someone started playing a trumpet and shouted "Dhava Booolllll". Well, if that's not going to happen, some tricks come in handy like , to stand right in front of the crowd. The crowd will push you forward and in no time you'l be inside trying to search a place, not to sit but to stand. Its amazing to see so many ladies inside one small compartment.

Once a local newspaper did a research on the noise level in ladies compartment in local trains in Mumbai. They said its much higher than the safe decibel level for normal human ear and then i wonder what if Supreme Court set a noise level limit in ladies compartment. All ladies will die of suffocation. There is all kind of noise there. Someone is selling toys, edibles, clothes and someone if the far corner will shut "foreign chocolates" and every head will turn in that direction. You can find anything in local train. You want to dress up for an evening party you can get lovely earning, nail paints, lip liners and combs. Well, you cant be brand choosy in there, can you? Once I saw two friends talking among themselves. Looking at them i forgot all the noises that were surrounding me. They were deaf and dumb. They were talking through sign language. They laughed from heart but no one could listen. Suddenly, there is a high pitch noise singing the famous song of not so famous film and I am brought back to reality of my capability to hear. Small children singing, elder one playing harmonium and you wonder what life do they have? Their age is play in dusty grounds but for their parents that’s the age when they can earn the most. At times I really want to help a kid and give him money but then I seen young kids doing drugs and I restrain myself. I would rather prefer to give something to eat than to give money.

As stations pass, the train becomes less crowded. I do then what I love to do best. I stand on the door. I can see where the train turns like a snake in a dessert. I can see rows of houses passing so fast that I can just make out through colored lines. Makes me feel as if I am flying and free to go where ever I want to. The wind pushing through my hair, tears flying out from the corner of my eyes due to the force of wind on my face. I love it all. As the train picks up the speed, I sway a little with the motion of the train and i am detached from the world that is around me. I start thinking about various issues of life. The train pass a over-head bridge and I can't avoid looking at people living under it. With whatever little space that is available they have made a home for themselves. Children are playing on tracks, far in the corner someone is taking drugs trying to forget hunger. Seeing all this makes me wonder what forces them to stay and live such kind of life. Can't they take a decision to lead a better life and move on to some other place? What makes them stay here? What makes them happy even though they are not living a life worth living? At those moments I thank God for whatever I have and thank God for such caring and loving parents who took some right decisions in life and made our lives worth living.

Slowly and slowly the train reaches its destination and I didn't even realize that 1-hour has passed since I had climbed into this train. I get down and I realize my hair on head is standing, my dress is all ruffled up with the crowd in the train, and I might not be looking my best, but in the end I loved it. In the end I always learn something when I come out of the local train.

Local Trains which is famously called - Lifeline of Mumbai.

Happy Independence Day

2005-08-12T05:19:00.000-07:00

Do we really need 15th August?

Today i was going through an article on the Nanavati report for riots that took place during 1984 when Indira Gandhi was assassinated. The way the writer wrote the article was very expressive but the most haunting line that caught me was the line with which he ended his article. Justice delayed is justice denied; and justice denied is a recruitment notice for separatism. This line made me think where does separatism fit in our country because don't we claim to the largest democracy of world?

India the largest democracy in the world is going to celebrate Independence Day just 3 days from today. India, which had become a symbol for "Non-Violence fight for Independence" for most of the countries that were under the British raj nearly 58 years ago. India's most important foreign policy is that of non-violence. But the same country has a history of 3 major riots that had ripped the country apart. The first was in 1984 in Delhi (capitol of India), second one in 1992-1993 in Mumbai (capitol of Maharashtra) and the third one just 3 years back in ahemdabad (capitol of Gujarat). Do we really believe in what we fought for? Where are going from here, post godhra, post black Friday (Mumbai riots) and post Nanavati Report?

How many of us are ready to stand when we hear our national anthem playing? When asked what caste, how many of us answer "Indian"? How many of us don't smirk at Muslims? How many of us eligible Indians vote? We as Indian have done nothing for our country. Whatever we have today was given to us who fought for independence and yet whenever we hear of such riots, we stand up immediately and blame govt. of India for it. No, the govt. is not wrong anywhere. It's us who stand wrong here. Who elected the govt.? We did. Those who are sitting on that chair are from among us. They reflect what we think, and the world is seeing what they have to show. We have done more harm to our country than those could do. We have stopped believing in our self. We have our self have divided our own country in the name of religion, in the name of minority and majority.

Of course, it's more convenient to be Indian when we are in USA rather than when we are in India. A person in USA would search for a dustbin to throw a piece of garbage, but the same person moving in Mercedes in India would just roll down the window and throw out garbage. A person USA would easily laugh at his country. What they forget is that they are laughing at themselves.

As the youth of India, it's our responsibility to stand up and say no to violence in the name of religion. Justice should be given to those who thought themselves to be God and took the decision of who should live and who should not. We should start respecting our country, our religion. We should start taking responsibility of our own actions. Its time to stand up whenever we hear "Jan Gan Man".... because blood doesn't come cheap nor does Independence. Happy Independence Day.

Happy Friendship Day

2005-08-06T00:26:00.000-07:00

"Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." - G. Randolf

When we are born, we don't know anything. Whatever we know today, its foundation was laid by our own parents. Though the word "Friendship" was taught by my parents, its meaning was taught by my friends.

The joy of getting to know people other than our family starts when we enter school. There for the first time in our lives we make friends. The meaning of friendship at that time means sharing tiffin, sharing notes, holding hands, distrubuting sweets together in school on b'days. Those are innocent days when we dont think of future and leave in present.Those were the days when if our friends won we were happy for them. Those days, the meaning of friendship was simple.

Life never stops, and hence we move on from being little childern, to grown ups. The meaning of friendship changes from being simple to being possesive. The meaning of friendship changes to sharing secrets, infactutaions, clothes. We cocon out of the shelter of our parents and friends hold our hands n help us to see the world and handle little heart breaks, first valintines and first drive on vehical. We step out to experiment with life and the main indegrent are friends. We learn to laugh together, save 10 bucks to go out and njoy a tea on a wetty rainy day on street near your house. We learn that to enjoy life you don't need money, big flashy cars. What you need is a true friend!!! But then at this stage we also realise that if our friends won, we are not happy. We also want to win. This gives us ambitions in life and without realising we have learnt to fly with the help of our friends.

Our amibition takes us to new places. We meet new people and make new friends. Those who showed us the world, are left behind. Friends who walked beside us each day, who taught us to face the world, who taught us to fly are soon forgotten. New friends take their place. Sometimes we do miss those innocent days but soon learn to live with memories. This new world of ours include so many people. Some who are more than friends, some who become love of our lives but can never be friends, some are lucky to get love and friend in same person. Life is no longer simple. We learn to become diplomatic. Friendship is more of "What you can give!" than "What we can share!". In the haste to get money n fame, we at times forget to look beside us...and loose some of the gem of persons. In haste to prove ourselves right we forget who we end up hurting and loosing for our life.

When the life starts slipping out of hands, we then realise that we have lost so much in haste to win and win what? We have lost the innocense of friendship, warmth of holding each other, the slience of being for each other. Soon we realise that we are left alone. But its too late. We stand like an autum tree, all leaves have broken loose and left.

People might say friendship day is useless. But i beg to differ here. Its the day when you can reach out to those who are left behind. Its the day when you can really stop and see who are standing beside you and who are waiting when you'l look around you and smile at them. Because true friendship can get lost with a wink of an eye!!! Let this day be a toast to all my friends who made me what i am today. Though i have fallen so many times...but for my friends my faliure wasn't permanent. That's why i want to dedicate this day to all my friends. Happy friendship day!!!

A day which took more than 48 hrs to end

2005-08-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

Well the sun is shining again today. BEST are working and trains are running on time. They say mumbai is back to normal. But is it?? People who are safe won't say its normal. People who have seen worst won't get over it for their whole life.

The day 26th July: Started normally for all. It was the usual office day. People got up, had breakfast and stepped out of their house...and many like me must have said "oooppppss...forgot my windshetter (or umbrella)". But no one realised that its going to take more than 48 hours for this day to get over.

My seat in office is next to window. When everyday i look out i can see planes taking off to far off lands...that day i couldn't even see The Leela Hotel across the road! The winds were blowing so fast and it was raining like mad. But living in mumbai for 4 years made me have a false security feeling that its going to stop soon. I didn't even bother to open any news site to see if everything is fine out of my 4 walls of office. Mail came at 4 in the evening. People should leave if they want "After taking permission of their PMs!!!" That time it seemed funny...now it doesn't.

I went down and had my evening tea n snacks. Didn't realise even then that its bad. When i came upstairs to my seat, I for the first time saw panic in the eyes of people and realised that the situation is bad. People went down and came back within an hour. There was neck deep water everywhere. Everyone decided to stay in office. Lights went out. No water. Basement got flooded. Mobile network jammed. The only way we could our mind at peace was to keep ourslves busy. We played antakshari, saw F.R.I.E.N.D.S on PC, played cards. People fought water and went down to get something to eat. Office provided dinner and snacks. Slept on chairs. People who came back told the stories of childern being swept away, BEST overturning due to the force of water. There were people missing from our office, who went out never to return. One guy in our office was found dead near SAHARA airport.That guy used to sit next to me for JAVA traning. He was planning to give JAVA certification.

The day 27th July: Got up at 5:30. The water had gone down to walkable level. People started gathering in groups to walk down home. I walked from my office(Andheri(E)) to Ghatkopar station in 2 hours. The way was bad. Father searching for his daughter, buses aboundended, big block of road washed off! It resembled a ghost town. Reached Ghatkopar station and frist sight of relief was a tapri selling hot wada-pav. Wet and cold it was a blessing. Had that before starting off again. Ghatkopar(E)....completely flooded. Somaiya grounds completely flooded. Took lift in a car, in a big tempo and somehow managed to reach Ghatkopar Depo near Eastern Express Highway. There what i saw i won't be able to forget whole my life. People everywhere, some begging and some trying to steal a seat in any vehical that is moving. Well a vehical that was moving was a big thing coz nothing was moving!!! It was a mother of all chaos!!! Started walking with only one aim...that is to reach Amar Mehal. Tired, soaked to skin and hungry. But one thing in mind kept us going. Reach home. Reached amar mehal. The site i saw didn't resemble anything like amar mehal i reach everyday to catch my office bus. The water was everywhere. First it was knee deep, near Sahakar it was waist deep and some distance ahead it was sholder deep. Just reach home and everything would be alright. That one was one thing that kept me going. Well there were some moments that brought smile on my face...a cute little dog swam past me, kids diving in water. Not all was that bad. Reached hostel to find uday mama n gang having fun. The site of hostel was a big relief and a surprise too. The ground floor was totall flooded. The TV room empty but filled with water. Office had books and papers floating in water. Mess completly submerged in water. I climbed upstairs and first thing i saw was sonali. Only thing that came to mind was "I am alive" and second thing was "I wanna go loo" . That was 2 in the afternoon. From 6 till 2 i was walking and it didn't feel like that. Coz the relief that i was alive and all people in hostel are safe...was more than enough.

The day 28th July: Water has suddenly vanished. Mobile was catching network again. Rushed outside on road and called ma. Hearing there was i felt i have heard God! She started crying but i couldn't. I knew it would make it all the more bad. Papa and ma were happy that i am ok. I was happy that i could talk to them. Felt like pinching myself. Battery was totally gone. Just wanted to let everyone know that i am ok. Messaged binny and mobile went off. Well, we went out to see how everything was. It cannot be described in any way. Shoppers Stop flooded. The stories that came when people started returning was even worst. Some saw dead bodies floating in water. Some were stranded on some or the other station for whole 2 days. People walked from VT or churchgate to reach tilak nagar, some had spent the whole night at the stairs of shoppers stop!!! After hearing such stories i realised that i didnt even see 2% of it!

The day 29th July: I am back in office. It all seems like a big bad dream. But i know its not. The expression of people's face say its not. The look of the roads say its not. The newspaper headline say its not. The tears in the eyes n voice of people say its not. The fact that i saw and heard it all says it all. The fact that i am alive, all my friends are alive says it that it was not a dream. Thank God!

The aim for writting this mail is not to make you feel bad or sad. The only aim is the realisation i want to share with you all that no matter how much we fight, we dis-agree with everyone. In the end we all care for each other. No matter if we mark you in cc of mails, it indicates that we want to be in touch. No matter how far we are from each other, the safety of each and everyone matters to us. No matter if we are friends or sisters...we all are one life and its the most precious gift that god has given to us.I want to thank sonali for worring about me, want to thank kartik and swapna for calling my parents and keeping their hope alive, want to thank mamta and pushpa for their messages asking for our safety. Want to thank everyone who prayed for me and called to see if i am ok....because in the end nothing else counts. Its all very small in front of being alive...and i am happy that i am.