A Gharghodan safari

It was 3.30 in the noon and the temperature was still 45 degree Celsius outside. The sun was playing the innings of his life and I was doing nothing except mumbling words of desperation at the sun and at the electricity department for doing what they are best at; load shedding.

But then like a merciful drop of raindrop on a parched land, my cell rang and it was Mr.X on the other line. Mr.X is one of the many forest department employees whom I have acquainted with since I came to Gharghoda. He was blabbering something that was making no sense and the only thing I could make out was that he was going on a raid to capture timber smugglers and if I wanted to join , he will be waiting for me at the forest guest house where I am currently staying.

I had five minutes to come with an excusable reason to explain to my boss that why I was leaving the office so abruptly . 3 minutes later, I was in my way to the spot where we had decided to meet.

There were four forest employees, one driver and one banker in that Bolero when it took from Gharghoda for the daring adventure to catch the tree thieves.

While on way to destination, which was 70 kms away, they told me that they had got information from the villagers that some timber fellers where cutting trees. And if we are lucky enough we would be able to catch them before they are able to smuggle the heavy wood out of the forest, probably Sagun. This area of Chhattisagrh has heavy plantation of Sagun and i’ts not rare to come across such smuggling.

Soon we were out of the city and curved roads dotted with green trees , lush fields and mountains of soil greeted us make the whole stretch beautiful. In between we also saw huge area of forest cover that was destroyed by wild fire.

Wild fire, they told me, rarely occurs because of natural cause. In 95 percent cases the fire is lighted by the Mahua collectors on behest of local Mahua merchants who find it cumbersome to separate the Mahua from the bed of dried leaves and hence they find it more easy to set the whole area on fire and take away the Mahua later.

The guards who are deputed to stop the fire from spreading have nothing highfi to battle this hot menace and they mostly rely on fresh branches of trees to extinguish fire and they admitted that once a fire starts it is very difficult to stop it from spreading until it has reached its zenith and starts dying down by itself.

The state forest department is spending large amount of money to plant trees and increase the forest area, but its efforts are being mitigated by the regular incidents of forest fire.

Then they narrated me a story of three bears, presumably siblings, who apparently after having their fill of Mahua decided that the shiny Tar road was the best place to have some 'after drinking nap as they laid there for 12 hours. Neither of them, inspite of being conscious, had any problem when the guards shifted them to a safer place using bamboo sticks. Ohh... How much I miss Jehenuma,TC.

And when they finally woke up, they walked away, still reeling on the feet to a nearby nullah to remove the hangover. My take is that these animals have been watching sitcoms too seriously.

One of the person sitting in the backseat narrated me of how he saved a life of an elephant calf who was stuck in the mud for 12 hours.

The guard was posted at a place, 90 kms from Gharghoda. And it was a night of heavy rains when he was told by the villagers that a herd of elephant had converged on a spot in the middle of forest and were showing signs of agitations.

When he rushed there he found that there were more than fifty villagers who had assembled there and were waiting anxiously to see why the elephants were so angry. As our brave guard went near he saw that a calf of not more than 2 months was trying to keep his trunk out of the mud pit in which he had fallen. The elephants were trying to pull out the calf but were not able to get a grip on him. And he was slipping back

So on a night when the rain drops were as huge as a peanut and the sound of thunder was making the overall atmosphere even more menacing, our guard decided to climb into the mud pit to pull the calf out.

The herd consisted of 15-20 elephants with 3 more calves and as you must be aware elephants, like any mother, are pretty unpredictable when it comes to the protection of their calves. But our brave lad took his chance and slowly but steadily walked towards them.

He told me that in spite of his being uniform totally wet , still he didn’t take them off, because he believed that the elephants recognize the colour of Khaki and would do him no harm and his belief was proved right as the elephants made way for him to climb into the mud pit.

Entering the mud pit was another thing and getting that scary calf almost another. And to make matter worse he had the company of so many huge agitated and confused elephants . Hardly any reason to feel comfortable.

The villagers were watching the whole drama unfold silently, perhaps thinking of what they will tell to the Bada Saheb who will scold them for not stopping an insane forest guard from taking up such antics. Or maybe they were thinking that whether the Gajraj will let them take away the body of the poor guard for a proper cremation.

Well fortunately, nothing of such short happened, and after 20 minutes of hard labour, the jumbo kid was pushed out by him. And everything ended on a happy note.

The guard then proudly tells me that when the elephants were moving back into deeper forest along with the rescued cough, the leader of the herd, turned back , looked at our dude and cried out in loud voice as she raised her trunk. Maybe saying thank you.

At the mention of this concluding remark all hell broke loose as the other guards who were quiet till now, started mocking him , calling him names that are too classy to be written here.

At this point we reached our village and saw our informer standing under a tree...

As he walks into the class...

In the future you will see a guy sitting in one of the last benches of Jawahar Lal School,silently following his instinct. And if he starts erasing his notes as soon as the teacher cleans the board, you got to know that the legend is back...my son...proudly walking on his fathers footstep, creating a legacy of his own... Amen.

I, My...

Regret-Not joining IRMA in 2009, Not joining Mundus inspite the Scholarship in 2009

Hate- Not many and its decreasing with time.

Despise- Those who have no compassion for animals.

Wish- Join UN, become a civil Servant ,write a good book,build shelter houses for stray animals.

If I had time machine I would go back to- 1987-1991- when I was in Gujarat, 1991-92 when I was in Ruchika school,Bhubhaneswar, 2000-2001 when I was in Jawahar, 2004-2006- the last few years of college, every moments of years of Abhivykati, to the salsa class of 2003, to the Doha time of 2006.

Wonder where are- Vasudha,Romila,Mit Basa,Lariss,Miss Anne,Lopamudra.

Feel things that should have happened- Time should have stopped in 2001,S.S would have remained the same.

I Miss- Kerwan time, Appan sirs tuition, class of 12 C, those time of Magic moments.

Would like to meet- Gabriel Garcia Marques, Orhan pamuk, Dalai Lama.

Moments that would be worthwhile to relive again- the MACT peace match of 2000, Abhivyakti of 2002 with partners from Excellence college, the evening of marriage of my sister, December and January of 2009 .

Teachers I admire- All of my English teachers. Mrs. Kishwar Jahan, Appan sir, Beena madam,B N Trishal sir, Uday Pratap sir, Naidu sir.

One of the saddest day-- when Bela and Sofia passed away, the last day at school.

Love to - Spend times with KK , Idle away at CP and Sector 18 Noida, Coffee at Rajeev chowk CCD, Let my sister pull my leg, Stroll alone in Mussorie,Laze around at my Patna home, Have evening tea with Mom, Dad and Bela, Enjoy a late night gupshup at Shyamla hills, Have a huge family gathering of everyone, go philosophical at Tattenham corner, Have a meaningful dialogue where I just listen, spend hours with my 6 school friends.

Look forward to- Introducing my would be wife to mom and dad, Sending santabanta jokes to my mother in law, Drive around the town with my father in law, have a wedding in a cool winter season, Come home to a smiling wife who is everything to me.

Would do specially for her - Surprise her when she least expect it, Do things that I am embarrassed to do otherwise like carrying her in arms in a busy metro station, Making tea for her and knowingly substituting salt in place of sugar, Disappearing with her for one week without telling anyone, take her to Kerwa, do Garba with her in Abhivyakti, sit with her on the stairs of Jawahar, watch her get scared by Bela,Laze around with her on a secluded beach, take her to Rome, watch the sunset in Greece, make her mad by singing songs of Rafi, write poems for her,Get dropped at office by her, Get a cut above my eyes after a fistfight with someone who teased her J, Watching emotional love stories with her and cry together, watch her dance in her own ladies Sangeet, specially on Mundey Huey Paresan from Love Aaj Kal...

So long...God Bless.

some months back...

A joyous ride on horse drawn carriage overooking the magnificent taj…some beloved time it was,

your laugh and your smile brightned my somnolent soul,

but then the moments in the black and yellow cab too were no less,

or the feeling of longingness on the volvo from pune to jaweri bazar;

exchanging of notes and something more in a dim lit atm, as i fervently wished it rained

and i leave myself in your hands on a not so empty local train

a whippy dog scares you as we play in one of those park

we say bye and soon the heart starts missing you

Love

It is about thinking how to stay close even when far.

Following when not walking by side.

Missing the person when you are the most happiest.

Not missing every moment but suddenly remembering those moments when you least expect it.

Not being able to forget even when you dont want to remember.

Faintest hint of love coming back makes you glow.

Pretending as if you are as cool as before.

Hoping you laugh with everyone inspite knowing that it will be difficult to.

Smiling when alone.

Pondering how it all started and then how it got over and then wishing it starts all over again.

It is about trying to come close when the distance are long and the paths have faded away.

To hope and continue to hope.

Looking for signs where nothing exist.

Feeling happy when looking at the moon.

Then...you are in love or rather still in love.

76 jawan shahid...

"76 jawan shahid" was what the headline of one of the local newspaper screamed and everything else was the same in this part of Chhattisgarh. The life was going on as if nothing had happened.

The local population was more interested in when will the herd of wild elephants that have come to this part of Gharghoda leave and they were more concerned with how much price they will get this year for Mahua produce.

And it was only when my dad messaged me about the ambush and I got calls from my concerned friends that I came to know that not more than 4 hours away from here our security personnel were being culled like a group of birds. And I instantly thought about how many of them will die.

76 is the official figure that has come out from the dense forests of Dantewara. 76 family have lost their close one but lets not get into the emotive aspect. .

Emotions can never be a great ingredient when you are discussing naxalism.

How many of us remember that on 12th July 09, in Rajnandgaon 29 jawans including an ASP died, on 5th March 07, in Rani Bodli 55 Jawans died ? There have so many such attacks. The figures are high, they always are. But like in any other terror attacks, with every passing day, the number starts fading. And finally there are forgotten, until a new set of number crops up.

The recent trend has suggested that the attack on India's effort to tackle naxalism is from two sides. In the first one, arms are used and in the second type of attack, Pens are used.

Pens are used by the naxal sympathizers who are doing their best to put an ideological pressure on the Indian establishment so as to stop the 'excessive use ' of force on our own people ( read naxals) who have taken to killing because the have been exploited by the government machinery.

One perfect example of this 'intellectual pressure' can be seen in one of the recent "collector's issue" of an English weekly, The Outlook. Every page, every word of its cover story that goes by “Walking with the Comrades" emits this smell.

The writer of this cover story has done a brilliant work. She has left no scope for even thinking that the naxals are brutal killers. Infact she has made sure that by the time we turn the last page we too start sympathizing with the comrades. Infact the weak hearted may even start shedding a tear or two.

The term "romanticize" has been aptly displayed in this cover story. Start romanticizing Naxalism or you too are a bloody heartless capitalist bourgeois.

Now I just want to ask this booker award winner intellect author that when will she start on her precarious, dangerous journey of sympathizing with these jawans who too are fighting for their death. Or maybe she is aware of the fact that no one will be interested in the life of a small low ranked jawan. Maybe she is correct and practical, none of the national magazine will make a cover story out of a piece that is based on the life of a CRPF jawan.

Another amazing ability of these intellects is that they have developed a very effective way of going into a shell whenever something that will make them appear like a faceless buffoon happens. Search for them after any such terror incident and they will disappear, only to appear after 10 days, more refreshed than before and with more fire in their belly to support naxalism and show their intellect. "The Intellectuals".

I have started to hate this word so much. And it is just because of people like Arundhati Roy who wear this very type of intellect on their sleeve and express through their pen.

The only positive that has come out after this attack is that both the national parties have reiterated that they are one when it comes to tackling naxalism. And the current Home minister too has started talking tough as can be gauged from his statement that the Indian government in the past has been lousy while dealing with the naxalites.

The use of air force and army is being delayed on the ground that it will be unethical to use our military might against our own people. This argument though doesn’t stand much ground. The army has been used and still being used in Northern and Eastern sector of India and they have been successfully able to control the local form of terrorism.

The reach of naxals has penetrated every sphere of social life. There are numerous illutrations of this. In Chhattisgarh , the naxalites annual income in expected to be 1000 crores, chiefly though extortion from local traders.

According to forest officers with whom I have been interacting ever since I came here, the naxalites along with the ever present politicians are equally responsible for the lack of development of this newly born state.

It has become very difficult to carry out developmental activities in the interior parts of the state because of the naxal terror and because of this very terror the government is not able to extend its activities into the remote areas, thus providing for a fertile fodder ground for naxals to recruit and expand. It is kind of a circle.

“Operation Greenhunt” has taken a long time to materialize; maybe we are two three years late. But now when it has begun it should only stop when it has completely wiped out this gravest internal threat to Indian security.The fact is that naxalism needs to be eradicated at all cost and I hope Chidambaram and Company will make this sure.

Till then keep praying that you are not affected by the intellects like Roy who say that killing of these jawans is a legitimate act on the part of the naxals so as to defy the rule of Indian government. Maybe she has taken a cue from the history when a dude called Gandhi defied Britishers by using non-violent methods. This lady sure has a wild stretch of imagination

And in between all this, life goes on in Gharghoda, like it is going on in Delhi,Patna or Mumbai.

http://desicritics.org/2010/04/08/033720.php

http://www.centralchronicle.com/viewnews.asp?articleID=33018

A place called Gharghoda

Gharghoda may not sound so good to the ears that for years have been accustomed to hearing names like Delhi,Mumbai, Bangalore or London but believe me it is a good place to be.

Situated in Raigarh district in Chhattisgarh, Gharghoda owes its name to the many a ancient houses that have stables in their backyard. Ghungrulal, a 95 year old young man tells me an interesting tale about the time of 1920s when this small place was first hit by the wave of Indian Independence movement.

He vividly remembers that it was the time of Basant and the monsoon was at full fury and the whole village thought that the time of Pralay has come. But the next day , the Sun god took mercy on them and the pouring too stopped. And it was on that day that a man with a thin stick having an even more leaner body mass index of maybe 23 came to his village and told them that he is looking for any kind of help in his war to drive out the Firangis from India.

The villagers after a long and a much soulful deliberation which spanned more than 3 years and 6 months decided that they would support this man who called himself MKG by providing him with horses that were found in abundance in their village.

And the guy called MKG immensely moved by the help proudly christened the village Gharghoda and moved ahead on his long journey to to the neighboring village which he not surprisingly named Hathgola. No prizes for guessing why he named it so.

So much for the name. But there are many more interesting things here. First of all there is no internet connection here. Do whatever you wish, climb the highest tree, scale the largest fields but still you will be spared the trouble of being addicted to the internet.

Though the buzz in the local superstore is that this place will soon have Wifi connectivity , a program that has been sponsored by the Bill and Melinda gates foundation and until then the Gharghodis have decided to continue accessing their Hotmail and Myspace accounts through the various high-end blue tooth enabled sets that they bought from the neighboring Bihar.

I find this place as more of a resort than a metro-village. The one that is shown in the brochures of Club Mahindra. I mean you will be amazed by the kind of services that you have access to. Starting from the natural spa, to the fragrance of a fresh,wet dung that enthralls your every viable senses, to the dry mud bath that you can never miss even if you want to.

The sense of being attached to mother earth when you hear the sweet mooooooo of a beautiful cow is so over powering that one feels that how on place can we afford to live in concrete jungles where the only moooo comes from a dyslexic boss.

I get goose pimples whenever I hear Basanti, Kumari, Baijanti calling me "O shehri Babu jaldee aana". The honesty that comes straight from their heart makes every words of Bryan Adams composed Straight from the heart so believable.

And my sense in god is strengthened whenever a man carrying a gun and chanting Lal Salam knocks on my door and ask whether 'All iz bell with me."

There are many many such small yet soulfully beautiful things about Gharghoda and I will keep writing whenever I am able to free myself from this desire called Gharghoda.

A Shehri Babu...

Ps-- I will be going to Gharghoda tomorrow but I am sure that the place will be exactly the way I have portrayed it right here.

Walk with me

Within the time of life

we find ways to be alive

the path that we walk,

leave that to look up at the sky

for we may find stars to follow

or a shooting star to wish for

night comes for a new day

just like the present turns into the past

gone will be tomorrow what is today

for what was today became a distant yesterday

not possible to leave the world alive how hard we try

the inevitable sadness in life

a part of life, pretty hard to avoid

in between this death we live our life

and in midst of this we all laugh out loud

For the love of Hussain

The MF Hussain bundle of sex,paints and goddess was once again in news as the 95 year old Maharastra born Indian Picasso was granted Qatari citizenship.

The ever active intellectual guardian population of India ably lead by Miss Booker Arundhati Roy have been raising a heart rendering hue and cry ever since this news broke and have cast a serious doubts on the Indian establishment on their ability to protect "genuine expression of art" and the repeated attack on the more sacrosanct Freedom of Expression enshrined in the Indian constitution.

I am a just bit worried that how much more battering our poor old Constitution will be able to withstand. Every alternate day some Tom, Dick and Harilal rises up with a copy of the Constitution waving in the air and shouting on the top of their voice that " The fundamental rigfhts of Mr.X has been violated".

And after the initial war cry has been shouted, the constitution is consigned to flames, not literally though.

What starts with a question of fundamental Rights turns into an opportunity to gain spotlight and to show that "yeah we are still alive and protecting the intellectual wealth" of India from the saffronist dacoits.

But in this high flying emotive surcharge environment the real issue is lost. Always, without fail.

Forgotten is why is the common people who worship goddess not allowed to feel offend when some one paints those very goddess in nude. Where do their religious rights vanish?

Forgotten is why the religious sentiments ( not the cliche one, but the real one, the one which makes us bow our head whenever we pass a temple) not kept in mind by these intellectuals when they cry over the treatment meted out to people like Hussain.

Forgotten is why Hussain never apologised on the second place after it is forgotten that he should have been asked that why did he chose to paint only Hindu gods in nude in first place.

Miss.Bookers like people shout on the vandalization that was done to Mr.Hussain's painting but they don't ask the Indian Picasso that was not he aware that religion is an integral part of any Indian, be it Hindu or Muslim.

Lets put an open question to our " intellectuals" on What they will choose if given two choices.

Whether the intellectuals will focus on freedom of expression or they will shout violation of breach of privacy if this very Picasso paints them or their close one in nude.

Now that he has shifted his base to Qatar all that remains to be seen is that whether he will express his creativity like the same way as he used to in India.

I have stayed in Qatar and if i am even 10 percent right then I don't think he will even think of letting his artistic creativity go wild.

Hussain should not live under any disillusionment, Allahs right has always been more enforceable in any part of the world, be it India or Qatar.

But in the end it is not about a Muslim artist and a Hindu godess, it is about an Indian artist and an Indian god.

Also at ----- http://desicritics.org/2010/03/05/171947.php

Kerala Diary-1

Have many a tales to tell
where to begin...where to end.

It is a new internet cafe, one opposite Bhaskar office where I sit and try to key in some exceptionally random thoughts. Don't have neither my dell nor the notebook which includes the diary linking my journey from Bhopal to Kerala.

The journey that passed through the beautiful Konkan Stretch through more than 69 tunnels made an otherwise boring ride a visual delight.

After a brief stay at INA I am back to my old place and to say that I am happily back would be an understatement. Also I had the twin privilege of ushering 2010 and my birthday in a moving train. I guess not everyone is so lucky or unlucky depending on the way you perceive it.


"Passing through tall trees
green fields,women in pink,flowing stream,
I go to places where I have never been before,
a heavy heart and a smiling past
to make sure that I reach ashore"

You can sit at the footsteps of a train going at a hair raising speed and ponder over how easy it is to end everything. Life included. And then you can again think about the rivers and streams and the tall mountains and think what they are talking to each other. What stories they might have shared with each other over the hundred years of sharing the same land.

The many a tunnels that dot the curved stretch make for a visual delight and then they also show you the meaning of light and darkness. Both literally and philosophically.

To be very honest life hasn't changed much or maybe it has. As Narayan Shankar says in the ever watchable "Mohabbatein" - I don't like changes Mr.Aryan".

But I look for change everywhere I go and to cherish those changes that might be painful sometimes is a way of enjoying life.

Keep smiling...A very happy 2010... the digits look good together ...may the year too bring more happiness and challenges.

Some moments to remember

I always had in mind that it will happen one day but was not expecting it to happen so soon. It is my last week in Bhopal and if I say that I am feeling nostalgic then it will be an understatement. Back in November 2008 when I gave my first paper for the PO exam, I was praying to god to make my efforts of joining SBI in Bhopal successful and it happened. Thank you god.

And these 8 months since I have been in Bhopal have been fabulous. The past was here and so is the present. Now the future is about Indian Navy as I leave for Kerala and then Mumbai.

The first thing that comes into my mind when I wander back into the recent past is friends. Old and new. They made an impression in my life as they never had before. Maybe I am being maudlin but then you can’t blame me. I guess it is something about this part of earth that has made me and left me even more emotional with every passing day.

I have already started missing Bhopal and moments spent here. The long nights behind Ansals. The not so sense-ful talks at the lake under the shining moon. The lone car standing at the great Lake, withstanding the fury of a wet monsoon. A car in which four guys are busy in building Magic moments with great songs playing on local radio station. The hot parathtas at 3 am from one of the stalls from Habibganj station. The hours of going into the past, dissecting the present and dreaming about the beautiful future. The after office evening chai at my home, sometimes alone and many times with Dino.

Songs like Yeh chand sa roshan chehra, raat ke dhai baje, wake up sid, khudaya khair, tu jaane na will be added in my long list of 'associative nostalgia' songs.

The plays at Bharat Bhawan, the night winds at Winds and Waves, the early morning coffee at Cafe Cabana and the exotic time spent at Tottenham corner. (Ignore the spelling of Tottenham if wrong, coz it was always too misty and blurry when we used to come out of this wonderful place making it difficult to read how and what was written.) A special thanks to Khan Sahab, especially from my friend Boddi for those shots and pints.

In between the not so hectic work came the eagerly awaited Abhivyakti and left me elated, like it always does. Whatever happens I will be here next year to be a part of it again.

My sister Lory blessed our family with boundless happiness as she became a mom of twin boys. When the long awaited news came to me through an sms sent by my dad from Patna,( twin boys...shortest possible way to convey), I was so overwhelmed that I just lay still on my bed as everything became so light and happy. 

I can well imagine that why my dad didn’t call me. Like son like father.

During this short period I went to one place after the another. Patna, Delhi, Indore, Bangalore,Mussorie and met many new people and many a new things happened.

Also I brought my first gas connection. Having tea prepared on my own gas stove was so satisfying, and so was trying to have eggs that tried hard not to become black but they did. I guess because of slightly over boiling. And I also brought my Dell.

Many people have made my Bhopal days a time to remember. The names that are coming to my mind are Dinesh, Palash, Dharmveer,Sumit,Akhil, Alka, Ankita, Meenakshi, Aparna, Ankit, Saurabh, Vivek, Roshan, Shruti, Romilla. ( I am sure I have missed out on someL)

And not to forget Browny, a limp dog that lives at the gates of Ansals, and who like me just gorges on Parle-G.One can identify him by looking in his eyes. They are emerald green. After me maybe it will be Dinesh and Palash who provide him with his supply of Parle-G. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t but whatever happens he will be a Parle-G dog.

Not that I won’t be coming to Bhopal again but maybe then woh shaam na hogi , aur shayad woh barsaat bhee na hogi. Saying goodbye is always so sad.

Bangalore diary- II

Back in the comforts of my home in Bhopal I sit back on my broken bed and go through the pages of books that is called life.

A trip which I thought would be over in 5 days took more than 15 days and when I finally left Bangalore I was a happy soul. My medicals were over and I was duly certified as medically fit for the defense services.

Earlier I had planned to take a train to Bhopal but just at the last moment I decided to surprise my mom and sister and I boarded a flight to Delhi. The two hours and 30 minutes flight was over in a jiffy as I slept for most period of the high flying journey.

It was 1.30 AM when I landed at Delhi airport.

A chilly breeze swept me as my muffler desperately tried to keep up the fight against the cold wind. Nothing much had changed at the Indira Gandhi airport except the old terminal which was not there. The terminal where many a so called lovely moments were spent was being dismantled to make way for a new one.

Have heard and seen many a love tales that were construed under the comfort of the small building. The rows of red metallic seats with a cold touch, if they could, would tell you that how innocent love-smitten couples would build castles and huts of a love filled future.

And the same red cold will also tell you about how many of those dreams were never fulfilled.

As I sat cuddled in the warm cafe in the midst of a not so dull crowd waiting for my cab to arrive, I went back into the past and thought of the times I came here before. And I realized that deceit kills even those moments of love which might have been innocent and which might have come from heart.

Sitting there, I saw a guy who was struggling to face a truth which he should have accepted a long time back. A guy was pondering over the turn of events that had transpired over a period of time. And I also saw a man who inspite of knowing that he is unlikely to succeed kept on trying until his every belief was broken. A man whose trust was broken and his every commitment laid to rest.

The temporary state of reliving the past was broken when I saw a long last friend who had dreamt of becoming an air stewardess. And there she was all charming and smiling in a red attire. Some dreams are destined to be fulfilled, maybe all of them but for lack of commitment.

Old times and ancient moments were brought into the present as we talked about a magical past.

The taxi ride that I took from the airport to Dwarka to surprise my mom was far more exciting than I could expect. First the taxi broke down in between and then my cellphone left me. Ultimately it was the turn of Delhi police to act as saviour and it was they who gave me a lift. The jat accent coupled with the cheap jokes made for a good ride as the jeep moved at a slow yet smooth speed.

It was 5 in the morning when I knocked on my brother in laws' door.

Were they surprised ...?

Bangalore diary-I

First think that will strike you once you have acclimatized your self to Bangalore is the pleasant weather. As one journalist told me while munching cookies on the famous MG Road " Bangalore is a Lat.(Habit) Once you get used to it, it is hard to leave it". She herself hails from New Delhi and it has been two years since she has been working here and has already made her plans of settling down in Bangalore.

Brigade road with many a shops that attracts the youth in hordes and its sister MG road are the first thing that comes to mind of any person with a lively heart. Life here, like in Bhopal moves at its own pace, peacefully.

Go to the countless pubs or hangout in any of the night clubs and you will feel that same peaceful serenity.

It is my 10th day in Bangalore and I have been successful in the purpose for which I first came here. When I had joined SBI, I had said that it's more likely to happen that I will move again to a different endeavour. And that is happening now.

A Lawyer, a Journalist, a Banker and now a Navy officer.

Have learnt many a things in this short span of time.

Pushed both my mind and my body to a different realm of achievablity. Went through some intense surge of emotions both good and bad and the first thing that came into my mind was how difficult it becomes to stop yourself from reconnecting to a past that you wouldn't normally want to connect to specially on occasions of intense happiness and deep sadness.

And in this times I sought help from God to keep me going. And I asked for forgiveness for hurting people whom I never wanted to hurt. I asked God to make me capable of forgetting and forgiving and I asked him to wash away hate and never let it creep into my heart again. And my belief that no one can be a better emotional support than mom and dad in times of crisis gained more strength.

As life moves on I look back and think of how time changed for the bad and then for the better. Like a flowing river the life should flow and I pray to god for his kind benevolence.

For all countless reasons love and for every conceivable reasons never cheat.

Happy December... :-)

During a lifeless class...

Don't be scared to fall in love. The starting may be painful and the end may be full of sorrow, but all that happens in between makes it worthwhile.

There is nothing like last love. Just like there is nothing like the last moment in life till it finally arrives. Love can be born any moment, even at the last mili-second of life.

Excepting every love to culminate into it a logical ending is like expecting every flower to have a fragrance . Some flowers are born to add beauty to the garden.

Some are more nostalgic than other. They just are the way they are and nothing can explain the reason for that.

A soul gets enriched and a life blossoms when we love. We sing, we hum, dance, do everything just like the way we used to be when we were five years old. When we are in love we derive happiness from mundane things.

If we could foresee the happiness that lies in the future then we would have never gone into the past for solace.

Betrayal comes after love, never before. Same as death comes after life.

If I could bring back anything from the past I would have had the days of love. Love from family, friends, foes and Betrayers.

Not same we feel today, maybe the the soul found something to live on.

Comparing happiness is the next most foolish thing to do , next only to falling in love.And these two acts of insanity cannot go hand in hand. Either you love or you compare.

The only way to experience blissful happiness and the real you is to love someone truly.

Life is all about experiences and the past. Keep them near in the present and you will see the future clearly.

Never show your love to a person who has broken someones trust before. All said and done, yours will be broken too.

The most valuable treasure one has at this moment is memories. Happy, Joyous memories.

Mumbaikars loose - MNS wins

Maharashtra poll results along with the poll results in the other two states of Arunachal Pradesh and Haryana has come as a bad news for the BJP. And the saffron colour continues to lose its shine.

It must have been a happy day at work for people at 10 Janpath as the hard work finally paid off in Maharashtra. With the party gaining an absolute majority, it will hope that it will be able to live up to the expectations of a common Indian living in Maharashtra.

But the disheartening news was about a goon party gaining more strength.

Maharashtra Navnirman Sena won in 13 seats in the state including 7 seats in Mumbai.

And there can be two ways of looking into the performance.

The first one has more to do with Not reading much into the party’s win. As the seat where it won was not on the basis of the party tag but because of a careful thinking that went into while selecting the candidates. The candidates who won were not imported from outside. Most of them were active in their constituency for years and were earlier a part of Shiv Sena.

So to say that the brand MNS worked would be wrong.

The second way of looking at this is that whether Mumbai has accepted and given its nod to the hooliganism way of politics that was carried out by MNS? And this question needs to carefully understood in the backdrop of the violence that MNS cadre carried out recently.

Infact none of the media post election talk show focussed on this aspect of MNS. Not much time back, this was the same party who held the whole state to ransom and ransacked the city and attacked anyone whom they thought was from north India.

Mumbai sure has a short memory.

Perhaps the Mumbaikars forgot that when 26/11 happened none of the MNS goons or Mr.Thackrey came forward to help. And those who died while tackling the situation where from all parts of the country, it was not a 'Me Mumbaikar' campaign at that time. And it was not just Mumbai who was glued into to the TV for news but the whole India

And it was not just Mumbai who felt frustrated for being so helpless and it was not just Mumbai who cried whenever a still body of an innocent “Indian” came out.

Try to remember; it was hardly 11 months back.

Anyone who saw Raj speaking before the media will agree that he has reached a new realm. The same old arrogance and lust for power was back in his eyes and in his voice as he dared people to perform Chaath Puja.

I thought that the MNS will be routed from the state but now realize that I was wrong. Might has again proved right.

Why do we point fingers at the illiterate class when they elect criminals to power? Don’t we say that the poor class doesn’t have the “intellectual” capability to decide between right and wrong?

What happened to the not so "intellectually backward strata" of Mumbai? Those who voted MNS to power how are they going to justify it?

Is violence the answer to the problem of people coming to a state in India in search for work? MNS had posed this question and many of you nodded in assent.

There were people who were lambasting Karan Johar for succumbing to MNS decree. Now we see why didn’t he resist.

We are moving backward in time. Democracy graduates from a violent natured system to a system that runs on a careful exercising of the power to vote.

This time it was MNS. Who knows by the next election time we might have NINS ( North Indian Navnirman sena). All justifying their violence on one reason or the other.

We pose some questions that can be answered only by ourselves.

http://desicritics.org/2009/10/22/125144.php#commentFrm

Whom will you feed today

Here you have many choices. Let us start from the beginning.

You can start by feeding a couple of pair of ducks with your hand and after they are full they will ask you to take them out for walk. And if you don't comply they will peck at your feet until you are forced to run away.

They go by the name of Mowgli,Sheena, Masakali, Jack and Mili.

Then comes the Tortoise. Three local Ganges Turtle and one imported Singaporean Turtle who too will seek your attention. And for that matter they too need some early morning exercise. Watching them run on the floor with a slight 'katkat' sound of their claws on the surface gives an impression that a tiny armored infantry is getting ready for the final assault.

If you are still not done then you can perch a hairless 3 year old parrot on your arm and watch him shouting on his top of his voice as if singing "sara zamana hasino ka deewana' and seeking a look or two from the many a sensuous female parrots that have made the huge mango tree standing in our house their home.

Then you have 10-12 odd fishes. Of every kind. Though they don't express their feelings through any sound yet the sheer joy of watching them comeup to you expecting bits of food makes you think that how intelligent these petite aquatic creatures are.

And finally you have Bela, who always likes to remain in the background. Guarding the little tiny vulnerable fellow pet-beings from the peril of this capitalist society, where every one is a meal of someone.

Here at my home in Patna.

A day and a night on Bhopal-Patna broad gauge

Lying on bed at home in Patna I am still lost in the last 35-40 hrs that started from the moment I took a train from Bhopal to Itarsi at 10.30 morning on the 14th morning.

Just half an hour before I had to board the connecting train from Bhopal to Itarsi I found out that I had not taken out the printout of the copy of the e-ticket for the journey from Itarsi to Patna which was scheduled for the same day at 3 in the noon.

I called up my friend and forwarded the e-ticket at his email address and requested him to meet me at Habibganj railway station and hand me over the e-ticket after getting it printed. Then I boarded the train at Bhopal after getting assurance from the counter guy that the train would stop at Habibganj.

And I found my self sharing place in the general compartment with a group of labourers belonging to Balrampur in UP who were going to Mumbai, perhaps to take on the might of the goons of that rubbish called Raj Thackrey.

As the train reached Habibganj, I to my horror, discovered that instead of slowing down it was was gaining speed and soon it dawned on me that the train would be bypassing Habibganj without stopping.

I frantically called up my friend and decided on the best course of action available at that time.

As the train approached the station I perched myself on the gate and saw a guy running with me, and then after me. It was my friend Dinesh, and he was running after the train with the ticket firmly clutched in his hand.

And soon enough the ticket was in my hand.

Thank you dost. And thank you even more for giving me the printout of my return ticket. You did great. ( Dinesh by some great presence of mind (pun intended) took out the printout of my return ticket instead of my forward journey).

I can still remember the look on his face when he said "Happy journey dudeeeee......".

I had a very happy journey, seriously.

Later I messaged him apprising about the path breaking development adding hahahahahha in my sms. He too replied in the same way, albeit with more "ha" in the hahhahaha.

After two hours of having a highly fruitful discussion on the various socio-political-economic problems plaguing the country I got down at the Itarsi paltform no 3, feeling highly enlightened and for that I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to Prof. Sukhi Singh, Prof. Mahto Rana and the child prodigy who went by the name "Chottua".

The day was good with the sun shining brightly over the head as I headed for platform no 1 so to find out an Internet cafe where I intended to take out the print out of the eticket.

But my jovial walk was cut short as I was accosted by a TTE in the customary black coat and two RPF personnel in Khakis as they accused me of stopping the train illegally as if I was not Abhinandan the mortal one but Sabu the Lambu one . No preliminary talks worked and i was taken to their office.

There they told me that the train I was travelling in was not scheduled to stop in Itarsi and I had pulled the chain to alight at Itarsi. To prove my point they said that I had a ticket that I myself had taken from Bhopal for Itarsi. Talk of benefits of having a valid travelling ticket.

I told them everything in detail and said that I was told by the booking clerk at Bhopal that this particular train had a stoppage in Itaris, but to no avail. They were presumably trying to arrive at a point, a point where they would force me to cough up some money to make their Diwali more happier but which i was not ready to do.

This round table conference went on for thirty minutes and I was on the verge of blasting out with full force as I had reached the tipping point of my patience. At that very moment my cellphone rang and I answered it. It was ringing for quite a while but I was disconnecting it so as to focus on the other issue at hand.

The guy on the line was a person who was about to come to pick me up at Itarsi and I vented out my anger at him and referring to him by his surname I told him not to bother as he was already late by half an hour.

As I disconnected the call, I saw the picture changing. The RPF guys left the room and the TTE became sober to the extent of being polite.

To cut a long story short, with the help of the same TTE I was fortunate enough to get a confirmed ticket in a holiday special train which would take me directly from Itarsi to Patna, my destination.

It was already 5 in the evening and I was feeling sleepy as i had spent the last night roaming till Three in the morning and having tea in the old city with an even older school friend. And as soon as I climbed into the upper berth, I covered myself in the blanket, switched off my cell and went to sleep.

It was 8 in the night when I was woken up as someone was trying to shake me up. Still asleep I extended my arms out and found a food packet in my arms given to me by a guy who later i found was sent by dad. This was at Jabalpur station.

It was Ten in the night when I finally woke up and gobbled up the Indian thali that landed in my hands in Jabalpur.

I had Sleep, had food and now had nothing to do with sleep miles out of reach. It was time for night out or more aptly train out.

Soon my pyara humsafar Dell came out. After some minutes of chit-chap i found out the battery dying. And as I bent down to plugin the charger a hand came out of the middle berth and switched on the electric switch. My hushed thank-you was responded by an even more subdued most welcome.

Zoya had made her presence felt...

Obama, Osama and Lal Salama

Barack Obama getting the Oscars must be considered as the biggest goof up that the Film fare jury have done till yet.

It is simple: How can someone who played the role of an angry Rambo in the movie “Revenge of America-post 9/11” be recognized as the Best apostle of Peace.

He could have been nominated in various other categories. Maybe The Best Podium dancer, The Best Podium Lyricist or the Best comedian for his superb acting butt Peace.

Obama supporters say that he got the award because his sterling performance in various movies like Afghanistan -a rosy tale and Iraq- all about Tel , in which he was successfully able to justify the legacy of another comedian of yesteryears; Bush Baby. Also the encouragement he got from Tel Aviv did the trick.

While conversing with another strong contender of the Most peaceful actor, Laden Cage (he uses this pseudonym since he has been caged in the Tora Tora mountains of the Afghanistan Studio), I got the feeling that all was not well within the league. The League of Ordinary turned superhero man.

Laden was quite critical of the fact that he was not allowed the travel to Norway. He quite candidly admitted that his mere presence on the screen would have lighted up the stage or as a matter of the fact the whole Norway.

He admitted that he too like Obama follows Gandhiji, who he says always used to keep a stick with him as he very innocently shows me his AK-56 that he has tied on a lathi.

He quotes a couplet to make his point, which he says his grandfather used to recite him every time he asked him for a candy. Jiski laathi uski bhens... and encouraged with this inspiring words he would take a lathi and beat the crap out of anyone with a candy and gobble it up.

Just like the way Gandhiji used his lathi as a threat to the mighty Britishers daring them to stop him from going to Sabarmati.

Kaun kehta hai kalyug abhee nahee aaya hai

Jahan nazar dodao wohee to Gandhi ki libaas odhey koi na koi nazar aaya hai

Ache se dekho mere yaaro

Kabhie Osama aur Kabhie Obama danda karta hua nazar aaya hai

II

A major and hopefully decisive counter offensive has been launched by the security forces against the naxalites who have grown leaps and bounds. The recent killing of 17 security personnel in Gidhchiraolii and the beheading of police officer in Jharkhand have forced the Government to wake up and take stock of what I see as an epidemic threat that has been eating away into the very basic structure of this country.

Those who have been into the naxalites infested areas will agree that they in true terms run a parallel government. And they have eroded more into the integrity of this country with every passing day.

And those intellectuals and visionaries who come out with reason to support this red-bloodied cause should hang their hand in shame every time a mother wails or a child cries after watching dead body of a son or a father nearby.

Time has come to remove this menace once and for all. Lets for some time forget about the issues of development and rights of the oppressed and the exploited which the supporters of naxalism says forces innocent villagers to join the naxal movement.

In Kashmir every separatists has his problems that he uses to justify the killings. Back in the late 80s and early 90s when militancy was at its peak in Punjab the militants would give N number of reason to justify the bombings. And same in the North East.

But in the end it comes to a point that unless and until the state machinery is not allowed to do its work, no development can take place.

The naxalites still wants their followers to live in the dream world that they would be able to carve out a separate nation. How laughable.

Only one question comes to mind- what they want and who can give a reasonable believable answer.

Lal Salam deviated out of its path a long back ago.

I bid adieu

a silent stare,a silent nod,

your hair slips even more silently.

black eyes sparkle like a silent star,

with the charm in your voice to do the rest.

a soul moves like a silent leaf,

like a caressing wave,

a weightless cloud,

on a rainy night.

moon lights makes it even more beautiful,

your eyes, your deep black eyes.

at their captivating best,

my soul surrenders itself

with a heavenly pleasure deep in heart.

in the light of the darkness that spreads between you and me

I smile at my innocent action and my feelings,

that are for you and because of you

sitting by some place and no one near,

my heart and me will have a talk,

sharing some thoughts and laugh out loud,

as we head back home with the smiling stars and

and a happy moon to show us through

I bid adieu to one and all,

to all those unnamed places,

and to all the pleasent time that i was with you...

P.S- Some people are born to cheat and some are born to deceit.

But there will always be people who will still smile and forgive them, and I am not one of them :)