Aussie Ki Taisi

‘He’s nothing but an obnoxious little weed’. A kind of statement one would make about his nemesis, after he has downed a couple of pegs. But no, this statement comes from a professional cricketer for his counterpart. Mathew Hayden, the burly bully of the Australian cricket team, lashed out at Harbhajan Singh of India with that very statement. To top it off, Hayden gets away with just a REPRIMAND. This comes right after the Aussies made a big hue and cry, labeling Bhajji as a racist. All Bhajji had said was something retaliatory in Hindi, which by no stretch of imagination meant, a monkey, as was alleged. Please tell me, who exactly is a racist?

See what the following words mean.

OBNOXIOUS: Causing disapproval or protest.

WEED: Any plant that crowd out cultivated plants.

If this is not racism, then what Bhajji supposedly said (according to those barbaric Aussies) is perfectly justified. Talking of that incident, Mr. Andrew Symonds yelled out at our young Ishant Sharma after being bamboozled and bowled by a clever slower ball. Ishant was fined, Andrew escaped scot free, even though he was the provoker. Following that Mathew Hayden, wants Ishant to join him in a boxing ring. If that is what Hayden intends to do, then he should not be playing cricket. Cricket is a gentleman’s game, as they call it. I wonder who let this uncivilized pugilist onto a cricket field.

Australian natives are aborigines. Andrew Symonds is one of them. They were ruled by the imperialistic Englishmen. Capt. James Cook discovered Australia, and in followed hoards of criminals from England. These criminals were brought here for want of more prison space. Once, Australia gained independence, these criminals propagated their species, hence making Australia a predominantly White country. Barbarism is in their blood, and what else can you expect from criminals. Sadly, it has rubbed off on some like Symonds as well.

I would say all is Ricky Ponting’s fault. He’s a great skipper, no doubt and he leads by example. But, I wish he had led only in the sporting department. The rest is totally unsportsmanlike, and he has absolutely no shame in what he’s doing.

The Aussies are world champions and give their 100% every time on the field. They win more games than anyone else. But are they winning any hearts?

It's only words...but my word!

Pancham Da as R. D. Burman is fondly known was reciting a mantra while praying at home. In walked a man, and sat down beside Pancham Da. This man was quiet as he didn’t want to disturb the prayer. There was yet another reason for his silence. He was listening intently to the tune of the prayer. He loved it. And then and there out of thin air, a song was created. The lyrics of which were TERE BINA ZINDAGI SE KOI SHIKWAH TOH NAHIN and the man of course was GULZAR.

Gulzar has penned some of the most beautiful songs in the history of Hindi cinema. The thing that separates him from the rest is that his lyrics can be interpreted in different ways. He leaves them to the listeners’ imagination. Also, the way he comes out with rhyming words, is simply matchless.
Take for instance ‘Beedi’ song from Omkara. It starts off, with Naah Ghilaaf, Naah Lihaaf, Thandi Hawa Bhi Khilaaf Sasuri... Ghilaaf means Match sticks; Lihaaf means a bedsheet or quilt. The basic necessities to keep you warm. Eh? And of course Khilaaf means against. Perfect isnt it? Lets go back in time to one of the most haunting melodies; Mera Kuchh Samaan Tumhaare Paas Pada Hain. This song received innumerable accolades. There’s one line in it, which says… Ek Sau Solaah Chaand Ki Raatein Ek Tumhaare Khaande Ka Til… One would imagine whats the connection. Here’s an interpretation…coz again, there can be many. The song of course is sung by the evergreen Asha Bhosle. In this line, the girl is comparing a simple mole on the guy’s shoulder to a hundred and sixteen moonlit nights. She finds the mole more beautiful…EEK...but look at it another way…there’s a subtle allusion to the intimacy the girl has with this guy. GULZAR SAAHAB… There’s absolutely no one else who can capture sensuality in such a manner.

There are many many more songs which I can write about…but I am not sure when it’ll end. So let’s give a bow to this great lyricist, writer and director. His movies too have been wonderful to say the least. Hats off to you Gulzar Saahab!

For those who don’t know Gulzar’s real name. It’s SAMPOORNA SINGH. Gulzar is a pen-name. I came to know just a few days back, courtesy my dear friend Hemendra Killawala.

January mein bhi aaye pasina!

It’s January 2008. I was thinking of being in my woolens, but every year that is one fabric which seems to be losing popularity. Winter will be over soon and frankly speaking it never felt like one. Even thinking about the impending summer makes me sweat. Nudists’ societies – are your mouths watering? You will have your kind walking around, if it goes on like this.

Got a very good link from a friend. Read on at http://www.morganstanley.com/about/community/littlegreenebook/

That’s a CAR-ZY thing to do!

Well, for once I am writing something that happened NOT with me, but a friend. I asked him to blog this, but he hasn't found the time. I got plenty of it now, hence I am writing this.

It was almost midnight when my friend and a couple of his friends were seated in a car. They had just finished a late supper and were about to return home. The car’s cabin light was on. They were having chitchat. My friend was at the driver’s seat. At a distance, he saw a couple of young girls walking towards their direction. They seemed to be in their twenties.

Suddenly out of nowhere a prank struck my friend. This is what he does. He first switches off the cabin light. Then he turns on the headlamps. He presses the power windows switch and pulls up all the windows - which are tinted as well. The two girls are now pretty close to the car. My friend then starts to hop up and down on the seat. He’s got a heavy frame, and the car starts shaking vigorously. The girls were stunned for a second. Next, he saw them blush and chuckle to each other, and make a hasty exit from there.

After the girls had reached a considerable distance, all the people inside the car burst out laughing.

I still laugh at this incident whenever he talks about it. What a WEIRDO!!!

Vroom in the New Year.

It’s 10.30 AM and I park my motorcycle at the RTO in Chikhli. I am here for a test to get my 4-wheeler driving license. I reach my driving school office (shop no 33) and wait in a queue with my learner’s license. The clerk is furiously filling away application forms. My turn arrives and I submit my learner’s license. He just looks overleaf and then asks for my two-wheeler license. Now why in the world is he asking for my two wheeler license, I wonder. Well it turns out that I’d be getting a combined permanent license for two as well as four wheelers. Wow, that’s neat. He attaches the learner’s and two wheeler’s licenses to the application form, and hands it to me. I am then told to go to office no 10 to pay for the smart card.

Office no 10 is on the floor above. Another long queue awaits me there. Boy! It’s New Years Day and there are so many people coming for a driving test. The day sure is auspicious and I won’t blame them. Thankfully computerization shows its benefits. I get the receipt within 15 mins of waiting in the queue. I go down to the floor below. I meet my driving instructor. Let me tell you; this guy is grumpiness personified. I always had my ears full when I was learning from him. Hesitantly, I walk towards him and wish him a happy new year. Surprise surprise!!! Mr. Grumpy knows to smile. I show him the receipt and ask him what next. He tells me to get a photocopy of that, to preserve with me. I take a couple, and return to shop no 33. I am asked for some signatures, and then told to wait at the parking below.

There are at least 50 other people waiting at the parking. Some nervous, some cheerful, and some absolutely not bothered at all. I guess I fall in the last category. Yes, I am goddamn confident. I read some messages. Happy New Year messages are getting more poetic each year; not to mention their lengths. All I reply to them is a HAPPY NEW YEAR?. KISS is my motto. Hehe. KISS stands for Keeping It Short’ n ’Simple.

Okay, so now the instructor arrives at the scene. The grim look has returned. "The officer today is kinda strict. You’ll have to put in 4 gears. Please make sure you don’t stall the car." Now that throws a cat amongst the pigeons. I am still unperturbed. Very innately I know, this is gonna be a piece of cake. After about 15 mins, we all sit into different cars and are driven to the test site. It’s almost 12 noon. It’s hot! January 1 could not get any warmer. Where’s the winter gone? I’ve been asking this question all through the season. Global warming, you see. Beads of sweat start forming at my sideburns. There’s no sign of the STRICT officer still.

Finally after an eternity the officer arrives. I can’t help but laugh at the mere sight of this man. Almost 6 feet tall and may be 600 pounds in weight. Gosh, he has a waist size of probably 60 inches. His love handle seems to be head over heels in love with him. True lovers just cannot be separated, eh? Whatever! I am watching this COP from a distance so I’m pretty safe. I honestly would have had a tough time keeping a straight face. Policemen! I know, you guys like to throw your weight around, but this is too much. This is gross.

Anyway, the tests have begun. There are more than a hundred people with all sorts of vehicles. Everyone wants this to be done quickly. I now feel sorry for the cop. He has to conduct the test for every one of us. So then, the tests start off with the two wheelers first.

A middle aged woman rides past me at about 20 km per hour. She has this strange look on her face. It’s something like this. Her eyes are wide open, unblinking and watching the road. Her upper and lower lips are tightly squeezed beneath and above the respective set of teeth. Her hands are firmly on the handle. Her legs are on the foot rest, but somehow waiting to touch the ground, in case of an emergency, which looks imminent. Jesus Christ! This lady is petrified.

Well, she rides on for about a 100 mtrs, does a U turn and is returning to the starting position. Now just as she is about to stop, it seems there is an EMERGENCY. The vehicle she is riding, is an automatic-gear scooter. Both brakes are at her hands. But the urge to use her legs has her trying to find ground but the vehicle isn’t stopping. Some onlookers give way. Her lips have gone tighter. Gosh! Will she stop legitimately? Thankfully common sense prevails and her hands apply the brakes. She passes the test! Hurrah!

Vehicle after vehicle whiz past me. Most of them pass; a few unfortunate ones will have to try again. The heat is sweltering. Finally at about 1.15 PM my turn arrives. Our little car looks a little tilted down towards the left. As I get in to the driver’s seat I notice the fat cop sitting on my left. I touch the steering and then my forehead. I say a small prayer. Dude, this is serious now, I think.

I am just about to turn the key, and my eyes go to the gear. It’s left at 1. The guy who took the test just before me didn’t bring it to neutral. Phew, had I turned the key I’d have had a STOL (that’s short take off and landing; in formula one parlance) and a grade F on my application form. I thank god as I pull the gear to neutral. I turn the key and the car starts to roll backwards. I take a couple of seconds to realize that I was on a slight slope. I quickly put gear one, release the foot brake and step on the gas. The engine revs. I am slightly scared now. I let the car go for about 5 mtrs and then it's turn for gear 2 and then I just have to go through the motions. Just a minute of driving and that’s it. I bring the car on neutral, pull the hand brake and alight. The cop doesn’t say a word. "Did I pass?" I ask my instructor after a while. Yes indeed. I passed and my new year has just begun.

VodaRun

It was 6 in the morning. I gave out a wide yawn and stretched myself. Nature called vehemently and I had to give in. I relieved myself and then walked to the wash basin. I switched on the light and stared into the mirror. With the toothbrush gently massaging my teeth, thoughts started racing in my mind. Very shortly I was gonna be like my thoughts. RACING! Well, it was Dec 02 2007 and the Pune International Marathon was to be flagged off at 8.30 AM IST. I was participating in the 4.5 km charity run.

My bro-in-law had agreed to drop me at the race venue. As we set off on his motorbike at 7.30 AM, I could notice glints in the eyes of my mom, sister and niece. I am sure they were thinking about my plight in the near future. They waved us goodbye but my nephew was stoic. But then, 1 year old babies won’t really understand the perils of a software engineer aiming to finish a 4500 meter "running race". The term Marathon would be an overstatement.

We reached the venue at 8.10 AM. There was a sea of red. Thousands of enthusiasts had gathered wearing the red colored T-shirts sponsored by Vodafone. I tried to look for a friend who was also participating. But that search would be comparable to looking for a pin in a haystack. What are cell-phones for, you might ask. Well, my friend supposedly wanted to run light, so left the cell phone at home.

Nonetheless, I squeezed myself into the starting point. I looked up and turned my head to the left. A podium was set up for celebrities. Sunil Gavaskar waved the flag and we were off. Salman Khan, Suresh Kalmadi and a few other well known faces were cheering the runners.

The first km was a piece of cake. The weather was nice and cool. Trust me; people in Pune are extremely zestful. School children, collegians, middle aged men and women, senior citizens et al had come in large numbers. It felt wonderful to see so many people running for a cause. A Race Against AIDS.

So as I was saying, the first km went off smoothly. Then reality dawned. The software engineer’s legs started to complain. Gosh, we guys need to exercise, if we haven’t already started. Now then, the sprint turned to a jog, which gradually turned to a walk, and then to a standstill. Hey! I wasn’t gonna stop. It was just one of my shoe-laces. I had to tie it back and in the process, got a much needed minute to get my breath back. Then, as I looked up, a pretty girl whizzed past me. That kind of stirred me up. I could hear myself say, "Look at that chick go! Now don’t you chicken out". Alrighty then, I was up and running and in fact ran so fast that I overtook her. I slowed and turned back to find her, but it was in vain. She was nowhere to be seen. May be she too was a software engineer.

Anyway, I still had a race to finish so I kept running. About 3 km had passed, when I heard a male voice asking me directions. He turned out to be a software engineer too. We talked as we ran along and that indeed was helpful. I was thrilled to see the entry gate to the Nehru Stadium which was our finish. All it took was 30 minutes and I gave a high 5 to this new friend of mine. We both were aware of our achievement, and needless to say, were overjoyed.

I then bid him farewell, and went to sit on the pavilion. I watched a procession stream in and very soon there were thousands scattered across this cricket ground. I sat there taking some photographs with my cell-phone’s camera. I messaged my friends and got some congrats back. After spending an hour there, I trudged back outside the stadium, caught an autorickshaw, reached Pune railway station, took a train, got down at Dehu Road and walked back home.

On a high!

I was looking for a break since many days. The software profession can sometimes get to you. So much so that at times, you would feel like leaving this planet. No, I am just kidding!!! It isn’t that bad. Leaving the planet didn’t mean DYING by any stretch of imagination. What I meant was that you sometimes wish you were like a free bird. Well, I got to become just that. Yep! I flew. I left mother earth and soared into the sky. SUPERMAN reincarnated??? Nope! It was just a Paragliding session organized by our company. It simply blew my mind, and of course the wind blew the rest of me.

Paragliding is different from para-jumping. Here, you are not diving from a plane. Instead, you become much like one. You take off, fly around and land. Paragliding is done from hill tops. There is a chute tied to your back and you jump off a cliff. And lo and behold, you are up there in a jiffy. Within a minute you reach heights of 1000 to 1200 feet. The view from up there is awesome. It’s accentuated because you are in motion. You are surveying the ground like a falcon looking for prey. You feel high, both literally and figuratively. You feel like God!

My present

I like to do things in my own way. This does hurt some people, but that's how I am. May be that's the reason why I have just a handful of close friends. I do like making friends and socializing but haven’t gotten close to many. The best way of socializing, according to the many books I have read, is to talk with people about THEM and not yourself. I do that generally. I really don’t like divulging anything about myself. And, I know the biggest fact in the world. People like to talk about themselves or about things they like. I don’t say that I would never want to talk about myself, but I don’t trust many people. Many people therefore think I am an enigma. Sure I am, and I’ll be so, till I find the person I am comfortable talking to, the way I like. That person should be a good listener. And, for god sake should not be overly serious about the little pranks of mine. I do take an occasional dig at people, but I am a sport and I’m open to people who give it back to me.

I have been through a lot lately, but there isn’t much I can do about it. I just smile and try to forget. But bloody hell, I’ve got good memory. It isn’t selective either. Almost everything I see, hear or experience is stored in my brains, as if it’s an etching on stone.
What should I do to completely get rid of the junk filling my brains? I wish I knew. I am just pushing my life when I am behind it, and pulling it ahead when I am in front. This has started affecting my work. So I stay back late and try to finish it. But then, my mom gets furious with me. I am blamed at home, for not being available for chores. Another real problem I am facing is my health. I don’t look fit and I am not fit. I am thin like a stick and no matter what I eat, it never shows. I would need a rigorous weight training exercise routine, coupled with high-protein diet for months. This needs time, which seems to be running out. As a result, I am left with no peace at all. That’s the one and only thing I’ve been craving for since the last one year.

I know I got a little whiny here. But, since there is nobody to listen to me, I am writing this. I have tried keeping to myself, but it’s not working. I needed to vent this out.

Hindi hain hum!

अभी तो कुछ सूझ नही रहा. पर एक दिन ज़रूर, हिन्दी में ब्लॉग लिखूंगा. There is an awesome website google has released. For all those kavis and lekhaks here's something you can really use to flaunt ur hindi articles. Visit http://www.google.com/transliterate/indic/ .

What a match!

A billion hearts skipped a beat when Misbah scooped the ball up towards fine leg. 4 balls left and 6 to get, it was anybody's game. Pakistan had fought back valiantly from a position of sheer hopelessness to bring themselves within a whisker off victory. It was the last pair batting out there and Joginder Sharma was the bowler facing the music. The ball started its descent and the camera lens were still focussing mid-air with TV viewers having no clue as to where she was gonna land. Sreesanth had a forgettable outing with the ball and looking to redeem himself, got underneath the ball and pocketed her safely, in what was the most important catch of his life. Misbah knelt in despair and the Indians had their feet nowhere on earth. Yet again India had beaten Pakistan in a cricket world cup encounter. If ever you wanted to see agony and ecstasy at the same time, this was the place. India are the T-20 cricket world champions.

Apologies to my readers!

I have received some flak for the extended length of the blog 'Anatomy of God'. For new visitors; you can skip the first four paragraphs. It's just an (now I am convinced) unnecessary precursor. The symbology is described from para 5.

Anatomy of God

As usual I boarded the 8.17 am local train for Pune. You would normally expect first class compartments to be relatively vacant. But, that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Either, people are more than willing to shell a few extra bucks, or railways seem to be hiring more employees. These employees get to travel in trains for free, in the compartment of their choice. Of course, gents should not board the ladies bogie, unless they want to be nagged to death by the lovely ladies. Ladies, who forget what love is when they see the opposite sex in their territory, which in this case, is a train compartment. I have seen strong men being shoved out like garbage by the so-called weaker sex.

On this particular day, there were no untoward scenes, and in the packed FIRST CLASS compartment I got to rest my buns on the - oh so difficult to get - fourth seat. I managed to get a few frowns from the third seat passengers, until finally a friend had showed some sympathy and squeezed himself to make some space. I was in no mood to talk or listen and quietly started to snooze. Indian Railways for some strange reason has this wonderful gift of lulling the most active of people into sound sleep. Yes, sleep can become so sound that you might get to hear all kinds of snores. Snores that sound different from each other but the tone always remains the same, PATHETIC!

A beautiful girl held her arms out and stretched them wide. Wide enough, as if to offer me a hug. Why the hell would I want to stop myself? I ran towards her, and just as I reached her, I stopped. I gazed into her eyes. Black eyes, beautiful eyes, deep eyes, smiling eyes... oh my goodness, I was in love. Just as I was about to pull her into my arms, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I woke up. Indian Railways, does it again!!! I rubbed my eyes. I can't tell whether I snored, but anyway I was smiling at my friend who boards this train one station after mine.

After a few handshakes, I looked out of the window. The sky was overcast, and the weather, quite muggy. There was a slight drizzle. I and my friend mutually agreed that the number of passengers was increasing by the day. We talked about how difficult traveling is during the summer and the rains, especially in the hustle and bustle. We also concurred that winter was the best time to be in such trains. Ganesh Chaturthi was just around the corner. We discussed on how it rains heavily just before the festival and invariably stops when the immersion day (Anant Chaturdashi) arrives. He commented on how people get drunk and create nuisance on that day. "I agree", I said and shook my head in disgust. I seemed to agree at just about anything, but what unanimously got our nod was about to follow.

"Talking of Lord Ganesh I remember", my friend spoke,"there is a scholar called Swami Chinmayanand, who has done a research on the Elephant God". "This man has explained the significant impact each part of the Lord's body has; on the way we should lead our life". Now, I got all attentive. I like listening to such topics. I am sure you would like too. The credit should obviously go to my friend who really enlightened me and increased my reverence for the Lord. If there are any brickbats please throw them at yours truly, and I will accept them, just like the girl in my dream did, with open arms.

"We have these month-end get-togethers at our office", my friend continued, "Where we invite some external person to give us a lecture. A lecture, on something we don't associate with our normal work-life. Something to get us out of our monotony". "A gentleman with Ph.D in zoology had come this time. He opened our eyes to what he had read about Lord Ganesh in Swami Chinmayanand's book. And, this is what he had to say". By now I was wide awake and listening with intent. My friend noticed this, and he was not going to disappoint me. He was sure and so was I. Smiles.

He carried on,"If you notice Lord Ganesh, there's something rather illogical about His anatomy. It's biologically impossible to fix even a baby elephant's head on a human body. Then why is Lord Ganesh so different? Different from all the other Gods. There's a meaning to each and everything about Him. Let's start with the head. It's a large head and it signifies knowledge. How? Because the larger the head, larger the brain and larger the information it can store and analyse this information to gain knowledge. How do we get the information? Mostly by listening. Hence the large ears. The more you listen the more you know. Why the small eyes? So that you have an eye(s) for detail. Then the trunk. Well, let’s take the case of a bulldozer. It's a machine powerful enough to bring down a building, to wreak havoc with its strength. On the other hand, imagine a semi-conductor manufacturing lab, where robots are dexterous enough to assemble chips and wires no thicker than a human hair. Now interchange the roles of the bulldozer and the robot. Will they be able to do their jobs? Certainly not! But, the elephant's trunk can lift quintals of load, bring down huge trees and do many such powerful acts. At the same time, it is deft enough to pick up a needle or a blade of grass from the ground, shake the mud off, and relish it. Just like that, a human being should be able to do both kinds of tasks, heavy and light, with equal aplomb. Now let's move over to the tusks". A station was about to arrive and some passengers started to move towards the door. The train stopped and my friend had to make way for the barging crowd.

After a while the train moved again. My friend took a deep breath and went on further. "The tusks", he said pointing near his nose, "you know why one of them is broken? It signifies imperfection. We don't live in utopia and should not chase perfection. That will simply make us unhappy. Learn to live with the imperfections, and you would never complain". "How true!",I exclaimed. "Yeah, now for the hands", he continued. "Lord Ganesh has 4 hands. One holds an axe, which signifies the fighting spirit. The weapon you should possess to ward off your problems. Problems, that might try to strangle you like tentacles of an octopus, but which you can chop off with the axe, your fighting spirit. The second hand holds a rope. This signifies self-control. The rope will pull you back and put you in your place when you get carried away. The third hand has its palm facing you. It's blessing you. You can never achieve everything without someone's help. So you got to also be that someone and be supportive and be a blessing to others. The fourth hand holds a dish of sweets (Modak to be precise). This is the sweet fruit of your labour, your hard work. Work hard and the fruit can never be bitter".

Superb, I thought. My friend knew I was enjoying this and he had more. He spoke,"Look at the belly of Lord Ganesh, it's large. It might look funny, but then again it has significance. What is that? Well, a storage area, and a massive one at that, for knowledge. Digest this knowledge and you end up enlightened. Look at the legs, they signify two things. Logical and Emotional intelligence. Use them properly. Do not mix them. For instance, a close friend of yours has had a bereavement. He or she is completely collapsed. Would you go and say that, it's just the body that is dead, the soul is immortal? As per the religious scriptures this is logical. But, your friend would be infuriated at this show of reasoning. Emotional intelligence would be to say a few condolent words, and logical intelligence would be to inform the relatives of the deceased, arrange for the funeral and the like. Also, if you notice, one leg is folded while the other is touching the ground. The folded leg is the emotional intelligence and the folding means, you have to keep your emotions under control, and logical intelligence tells you to have one foot firmly on the ground".

"Awesome!",I cried. "Well there is one thing left, although it's not a part of the Lord's anatomy. The mouse! The carrier of the Lord. But again, a mouse cannot bear the weight of human hand, let alone a full body. But ever seen what a varied appetite the mouse has? It can eat anything almost anything. Edible, non-edible doesn't matter. It will feast on anything it can nibble. What does it signify? It signifies unwanted desire. Hmm, yes desire. The root cause of all evil. Normal humans want everything. Desire keeps them running behind all sorts of things, even if they are not needed. Desire only what you deserve". There I was struck; my mom's words reverberated in my head. She keeps telling me,"Son, only desire what you deserve". "So how do you curb your desire?", my friend asked. I just stared blankly. "By sitting on it dude", he patted my shoulder. "Yes, that's how! And that's why the Lord is seated on the mouse, which tells us to stop our desires from running around, trying to gobble up everything. So you see it's not just a simple idol, you just got to idolize it".

I shook his hands vigorously. I thanked him profusely before he alighted at his stop. Man!!! You need to listen to such stuff everyday, I thought as I walked towards my cab. I got into it and told my cab-mates about this when one of them told me to blog this, thanks pal. So here it was.

Hey Baby!

It was almost like a playback singer beginning a rendition. The pitch started on a low note and graduated towards the higher ones. The lyrics were totally alien to us, but then babies crying softly just for us to pick them up and pacify can sound more than melodious. I did just that … Hello, I mean I picked him up and my cute nephew started to sulk. It was 10.30 PM and this 10 month old bundle of joy had managed to kiss our sleep good bye.

Nonetheless, we all - which includes me, mom, sister and my niece - were forced into awakening. Brat!!! He must have been a proud guy at that moment. You ought to be when you get so much attention. I was carrying him in my arms trying to lull him back to sleep with my husky voice. It was all in vain, as his whining just picked up on the decibels. May be I was fueling the fire, with my awful attempts at the lullaby, which is so very effective when my Mom sings it.

I still walked around holding him close to my chest, patting him gently. I was hoping that at least this would work. My lullaby wasn’t doing the job, and I had to give up, lest I woke up the entire neighborhood.

After a while, his crying started to subside. The effort put in, was beginning to tell. He was getting tired, and was slowly but surely catching the forty winks. Yes, his sleeping pattern is rather unusual when compared to other babies. He rarely sleeps more than 8 hours in day, and that too in patches.

Anyway, I started feeling better as his head relaxed against my left shoulder. Little hands clung on to my neck, and tiny legs straddled my midriff. Don’t know why, but I feel that hugs are the best ways of expressing love, especially with babies not old enough to understand words. I recalled some past events in my life, and smiled to myself. If only adults could understand what mouths couldn’t convey.

However, past is past and this kid was asleep fast. Wow! That rhymed. I was pleased at myself when I handed him back to my sister. By this time even I had grown weary, and I walked off to my bed with a hope that even I could sleep like a BABY.

The next morning as I was about to leave for office mom said, “He was up again at midnight, and was back to sleep only at 2. What do you have to say?” I shrugged, and bid goodbye to her.

I am OK!

It's funny how a man wants to be happier when he is happy and sadder when he's sad. Makes no sense? Well, I mostly do but when I am drunk this is what happens. I guess, something more than this happens. I don't know how funny it is at that moment, but everyone around seems to be smiling or even laughing, so I guess I am doing my job of entertaining. I have regained my senses now and let me just tell you about this little incident.

It was our office anniversary and we all were desperately waiting for the evening. This was a family affair and most employees had brought in their spouses, children, parents or whoever that can constitute their families. I was all by myself. My folks are not exactly party animals. Anyway, the music started rocking and soon the crowd near the liquor bar (yes, we had a bar that day in our office cafeteria) started swelling. Now you know why I didn't get my parents along. Very soon I had a glass of VODKA LIME CORDIAL in my hand. For the teetotalers here's a lil definition. VODKA LIME CORDIAL is Vodka mixed with lime juice and a sweet soft drink. Sprite's my choice.

The band was decent and was crooning some of the most heard English and Hindi songs. I am not a regular boozer and it had started to show. The VLC (hunt above for the full-form) was doing its job and I could sense, I was getting high. Suddenly came, the song I was talking about that morning with one of my colleagues. I went and stood beside her. I still had the glass in my hand, nearly empty. She looked at me and said, "I was looking for you; remember you were asking me about this song this morning?" I nodded. Yes, I simply nodded and I tend to do that because I don't trust my mouth in that stupor. Smart that she is, quickly understood my predicament and rubbed it in. "So, how high are you feeling?", she questioned with a sarcastic smile.

I blurted out a reply which made her scamper as fast and as far as possible from me, which is when I realized my folly. Her friend was startled. GOSH!!! You should know when to keep your mouth shut. I still managed to giggle, although deep down I was cringing with embarrassment. The party lasted for another couple of hours and so did my inebriation. Throughout whenever she looked at me, I yelled out "I AM OK". I was certainly not, because the next time we met she told me that I had said "I AM OK" at least 10 times whereas I can recall myself saying that only twice or thrice.

I still thank god, that I didn't end up with a swollen cheek that night. It's been some weeks, since this happened and we all still laugh over it.

Cop Porn

Another long day, had just got over! Long coz it was a friday and you know how eagerly we want to get out of office and enjoy the weekend. My friend offered me a hitch in his car till the railway station. After a 20 minute drive I was ambling towards the platform for which I had to cross a Foot Over Bridge. I was completely lost within myself and trudged with utmost nonchalance. I was on the middle of the bridge when suddenly I felt an arm on my shoulder. I thought it to be a friend and looked up straightaway. I was slightly startled to see a burly stranger looking at me in the eye. He was about 6 feet tall and had a very stern look on his face.

I was wondering who this man is, when he asked me to show my railway ticket. He wasn't wearing a Ticket checker's uniform so I was still staring at him. Well, he just reached for his shirt pocket, took out his ID card and flashed it near my eyes. He was a policeman. Whoa! No more arguments. I took out my wallet obediently and heck, my railway pass took ages to come out. I don't know why, but I get the jitters in front of these cops.

Anyway, I finally managed to pull out the pass and showed it to him. After a careful scrutiny he handed it back to me and I was about to leave, when he asked what's in my trouser pocket. Now that is none of his business, I thought, but would I dare tell him. Slaps are delivered like showers on a rainy day, I have seen these guys belt up people on the road. I told him it was my cell-phone. "Show it to me", he demanded. In no time, I gave it to him. Man!!! I am no criminal, but I was still feeling scared about something.

Well, my cell-phone the N-91, is one of the latest, and I was kind of surprised to see him operate it with ease. He directly went to the Menu, the file manager, the folders. He opened the real player, the video clips folder. Now I was getting it...he was searching for sleaze..hehehe...well not that he was gonna watch it and say thanks, but instead, he would have had a real hiding for me in store, had he found something.

Well, with the kind of MMS scandals happening so frequently, the cops are justified in searching the cell phones. Phew...my phone was clean. He asked me its price before handing it back to me. I told him and walked off relieved. Guys, this is a message for you. Please don't carry porn.

Close shave.

Sunday mornings aren't really, the get-up-early ones. So as usual, it was about 9.30 when I staggered out of bed. I would have wanted to sleep a little more, but my bladder wouldn't listen. After relieving myself, I went to brush and soon I was wide awake. I had nothing much to do the entire day, so I thought of snoozing through the afternoon.

Evening came quickly, and with it brought a call from my niece. She sounded, worried. Poor baby, 6 yr old kids sounding worried is touching. "What happened?", I questioned. Her younger brother, my nephew, barely 3 months old was ill. Just as the call got over, my Mom came in from outside. I gave her the news. My goodness, it takes very little to take my mom into emotional stupor. I tried pacifying, saying there's nothing really bad, and the kid would be alright. But would she listen?

She rang up my sister. "Daughter, I am coming there." "No, Mom it's alright. He would be fine." "Nothing doing, I am coming there". Cut. I looked up. "Come!". Soon we both were on my bike and in about half an hour we were at my sister's place. My mom, wasn't too impressed with my bike-riding. She thought I was too fast. Well, no comments there. Then after about 15 mins, I told mom, I was leaving. "Son, please, please, please be careful. Don't ride too fast.""I know MOM, bye."

10 mins later, I was riding inside the GRADE-SEPARATOR at Pimpri. It is a good one, reduces the wait-time at traffic-signals. As it was about to end, I was on a slope, riding at about 50 KMPH. I was on the right side of the lane, and I noticed an INDICA waiting to take a U-turn, flashing it's indicators. I tried slowing down, thought to take a left. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some speeding vehicles coming from the left rear. OK, I will stop and then move left, I thought. Suddenly, I also thought about the dinner I was going to have shortly. My right foot was firmly on the brake, but it wasn't slowing down my bike, by much. And all of a sudden, CRASH, BANG, THUD... I was thrown of my bike, I felt my left shoulder go and hit a car coming from behind, and in a sec I was on my knees. I had actually rebounded off that car and fell right next to my bike. I picked it up and, saw its headlight and indicator broken. That's when I realised, I had smashed into the left rear of the INDICA, that waited eternally to take the U-turn.

What happened after that is history. What mattered most is that I was alive, and probably could have been kicking, but my knees were hurting. It was a real close-shave, closer than the one I had when I cleaned my moustache and beard in the morning. I thanked God, and limped ...kidding... I rode home!

Dream!!!

It is a late summer afternoon. I am driving a car and the place is unfamiliar. The road is deserted. After a long drive I arrive at a beautiful mansion.The gatekeeper questions me and I tell him I want to meet the owner. I introduce myself and the gates are opened. I park my car at the foot of the very broad stairway.I get out of the car and take a look at the surroundings. They are fantastic. Beautiful green lawns, very well maintained garden..I can see a couple of gardeners working..For a moment I am in awe...I let the feeling sink in and then climb the stairs. The door is huge and very intricately designed..Teakwood...I suppose.
I press the door bell. For a while there is total silence. I can hear my breath. With every passing second I am getting more and more impressed at the mansion and its surroundings. The silence is broken with the creak of the door opening. An elderly lady dressed in a white saree stands in front of me. I have a feeling, she is the maid of the house, evident from the fact that she has a towel thrown over her left shoulder. My doubt is cleared when she asks me, "Sir, How can I help you?". I reply,"Can u please tell that PACLOT has come to meet". Just as I finish my sentence I hear loud laughter of little children coming running in to the hall from another room. Following them is a lady dressed in a Pink Salwar Kameez. She has long hair and her face is covered with them after all that running. I smile at the kids. There is something unusual about these children and I am sure she is not their mother after counting them...23 in all. Well, the thing that looks common in all these kids was POVERTY. None of them looks more than 10...or maybe their malnourished bodies fooled me...but they are small for sure. But hats off to their cheerful faces...they all look very happy. As all these thoughts go around in my mind, she asks to me sit down. I smile again and she takes her seat facing me. She runs her hand over her forehead to move her hair back. Lo and behold!!! I am staring straight at her face...and who is she???


God knows! Whoever she was? Sure is great! :)

Loved n Lost

I never believed in love at first sight, for I knew it was crap.
But as time sped with its might, love caught me in its wrap.

The searing urge to tell her, in my heart was always present.
I wanted absolutely no other, coz I knew I would resent.

I didn't want to stay mum, lest it would get too late.
Then life'd be all glum, wishing I had thrown the bait.

Toss the hook, I did, full of vain on my charm.
Risked opening the lid, was sure there'd be no harm.

I was smitten by her pulchritude, so thought, it was worth a try.
But when I reached an altitude, I found myself high and dry.

She never had that quenching pail, for which I thirsted as much I can.
So there goes my love tale, that ended before it began.

Before I wind this one up, let me just plagiarise a little.
Sorry BZ, "It's only words and words that all I have to take her heart away!"

A Trek - Part 3

Finally we reached the foot of Sinhagad. Thankfully, parking was available, well it was just 9 in the morning and more people were expected only later in the day. We all came out of the parking lot and cast a glance skywards. There were 2 reasons for this. First, just to see how high we had to climb, second was a silent prayer to the Almighty. Well, Sinhagad is not exactly Mount Everest, but we all, still had a MOUNTAIN to climb. And so, we all set out to reach the top, beginning another journey which was going to be slightly arduous.

For about 500 mtrs or so, there is a KACHCHA road and then starts the real climb. V was leading us, obviously the most enthusiastic. I followed him, with M trailing me and N bringing up the rear. Half an hour passed and we could all feel droplets of sweat trickling down our side-locks. We took our first break, as we all rested on the rocks. The sun had started beating down. The number of people was increasing as well. Surprisingly we could also see some trekkers coming down, they had surely started early. The 4 of us smiled at each other. About 10 mins later, we all started again. The climb was getting tougher. Some places were wall-steep. V was still the leader, I was close behind, M was further back, but there was no sign of N. We still kept walking and about 15 mins later, M hollered at us to wait for N.

Where was he? We rested again, while M decided to backtrack to find N. We had reached quite a height, and the view from up there was sensational. 10 mins had passed and we were getting rather bored of sitting. Just then, M came up to us and pointed his finger upwards. There was N. How the hell, did he reach there? He took some other route, maybe. Anyway, we all gave out a hearty laugh.

So, we started again and about an hour later, we had reached the gate of the fort. Refreshment vendors were yelling and tired people were obliging. We too, bought some lime juice, lassi, boiled peanuts and cucumber. Our parched throats felt gratified. 15 mins later, we were sprawled on mats laid out on top of Sinhagad. A vendor quickly brought some vessels of curd and put it in front of us. Hell, who had told him to? Nevertheless, the thick curds in small mud vessels were too appetizing. We grabbed them, added some sugar and gobbled. Heaven! The aroma of wet mud is beyond words. Wow! This had just whetted our appetites and in a while, we were all gorging onion-pakodas followed by a lunch of Zunka-Bhakar. Post lunch was snooze time, that lasted only for about 10 mins.

We took a quick tour of the fort, and decided to go back home. The descent was rather difficult. Gravity pulls you down, and you have to resist. The knees and calves take a pounding. We were ambling, and after an hour we were back near our bikes. We had a quick meal and drink, and waved goodbye to Sinhagad, thus ending a wonderful day of trekking. J

A Trek - Part 2

Well, I am yet to introduce my 3 pals to you. Short names...I guess that would be enuf. So, here they are...V, N and M. The morning was getting brighter as we whizzed past some slow moving trucks on a thankfully, traffic-free road. The wind was slapping our faces hard, but we all were enjoying it. Km after km ticked away on our speedometers and within no time, we had covered 20 kms. M was riding pillion with me, and kept up a lively commentary about the places that were passing by. This was my first time on that road, and I was pretty interested in listening. As we rode over a flyover, M tapped my shoulder,"We should have taken the previous left turn, not come over the flyover. Anyway, lets cross-over and take a reverse. It's a no-entry, but no worries". He was right, we don't have traffic cops so early in the morning. So after a minute we caught up V and N and all us stopped near Warje for some tea. A hot glass(that's actually smaller than a cup) of tea felt fantastic in the cool weather. Now I thought of leaving the driver's seat to M.
M is a ferocious rider. Safe but ferocious. And add to that, the village roads. I was hopping up and down on the back seat, sometimes yelling at M to slow down, sometimes holding on tightly to the handle at the rear, sometimes just closing my eyes, sometimes just keeping quiet...Phew! Riding pillion couldn't have been more draining, at least mentally. Thankfully, there was no incident. After a while, I felt relaxed as the roads were practically deserted. Bad roads without traffic snarls ain't that intimidating. So, as we raced along, we passed fields, brooks, huts, in short got to see what the country side is all about. The beautiful Khadakwasla dam went past. May be we were getting lost in the beauty and serenity of the place. M surely did because we weren't getting anyway near Sinhagad. M realised it, but not before we had covered a long distance. I had absolutely no clue whatsoever. "You have come the wrong way, about 10 KM or so", said a couple of kind passersby. We all cringed.
"Well done M! First of all, scare the daylight out of me with your riding, and then lose the route, that too 10 KM, what the fuck?", I thought. I wasn't too keen to allow him to ride any more. I rode on the way BACK to Sinhagad. The fuel tank had ample, so we were not particularly bothered. We all were singing along as we took the CORRECT turn near the Khadakwasla dam and sped to our destination - Sinhagad.