Seventeen Tomatoes...

The Case of Missing Servant

2009-10-14T04:47:00.000-07:00

'The Case of Missing Servant' is a decent detective novel by a British writer Tarquin Hall. This was my first detective novel based in India and in that way it was interesting. The author has tried to create a Sherlock Homes kind of character named, Vish Puri, who wears a Sandown cap and occasionally twirls his well curled up moustache. Somehow the character reminded me of Karamchand, an Indian detective played by gifted actor Pankaj Kapur on Doordarshan long time back.

The best part about the book is that it is based in India and majority of it in Delhi. Also, despite of the fact that the writer is British, he seems to have captured very minutely the nuances of India, particularly of Delhi. The scene that comes to my mind is when the driver of Vish Puri asks for direction of certain sector in Noida from a pizza delivery guy and the way the driver tells the directions is hilarious and can only happen in India (something to the effect of, near that park, besides that paani ke tanki and it goes on and on). Also, the characters in the book are extremely relate-able esp. nosy Mummy ji.

The area where the book falters is the ending which could have been more crisply written. There were a lot of loose ends esp. the motive of the culprit. Also, there were a couple of parallel stories going on which didn't add anything to the actual story.

Overall, the book is a light read that has the potential to become India's Sherlock Holmes kinda series but hopefully the next adventure of Vish Puri will do justice to that expectation.

Dark side of India

2009-09-30T02:26:00.000-07:00

I was reading the article "The great Indian darkness" by Grace Boyle, who has traveled from London to Bangalore to work on a project by Greenpeace about climate change and how it is affecting India. The article reminded me of my Engineering days in a small village of Mailoor in Karnataka. The village is adjoining the city of Bidar which is known for its Bidri Handicraft and is a pilgrimage site for Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims. Mailoor village is one of the poorest places I have seen in India and that in a state which is boasting itself as the IT hub of India. Infact, most villages around Bidar (which is one of the biggest district of India) are extremely poor. The level of poverty can be judged by the fact that I met a person there who once boasted to me that he had bribed a police constable 50 paisa, which he had gladly accepted and this was less than 10 years back. In a city like Bangalore even a beggar won't accept this small token of money.

The article by Grace Boyle took me back to the darkness of the villages in that district of Karnataka . I am not sure if anything has changed in these nine years but there is hope as in the article Grace mentions that even though villagers (which she visited) do not have electricity they do use mobile to keep in touch with their children who live in bigger cities. If only we can find a mobile application that can light these villages out of darkness.

PS: I had written a previous article "Stench of Poverty" about a train ride through the same district.

Slumdog Brothers

2009-08-26T06:37:00.000-07:00

As I was reading an excerpt from Gurcharan Das's new book, "The Difficulty Of Being Good" about the epic battle between two brothers Mukesh and Anil Ambani, it reminded me not only of the battle between Pandavas and Kauravas as written in the article but also two brothers I met during my trip to India. My cousin from US was also visiting and we were looking for a coffee shop in Noida after dinner. As we were wandering around, two kids tried selling us roses maybe assuming we were a couple with the usual punchline, "Bhaiya, Didi ke liye gulab le lo". Instead we went to the MacDonald's, got couple of burgers and called the two of them. I gave the bag of burgers to one of the kid and said, "Yeh tum dono ke liye hain".

As soon as I left the bag, I grabbed it again and told the kid holding the bag that I will take one of the burgers out right now and give it to the younger one, obviously realizing what-if the older one runs away after we are gone leaving the younger one hungry. As I was taking the burger out, the older kid said, "Yeh mera bhai hain, main isee hee doonga". Realizing my dog-eats-dog-world hypothesis, I gave the bag back to the older one but still told him to give the burger infront of me.

Battle of the Kauravas and Pandavas (pic courtesy: www.harekrsna.com)

There is a very good chance that the older kid would have given the burger to the younger one even if I had not insisted on it but if the mother of Mukesh and Anil had not intervened, would Mukesh had given Anil's share to him?

Yes, its the dog eats dog world out there but the dogs may not be from the slums every time.

Story of a refugee

2009-04-09T23:13:00.000-07:00

These days I am reading Ramachandra Guha's India after Gandhi. The book is a perfect read during a time when country is preparing for elections. The book is a story of India's democracy and how it came to its fruition, right from partition to the creation of our consitution to the first elections to the present Great Indian Tamasha that our elections have become. As I was reading a chapter on refugees who came to India from present day Pakistan, it reminded me of the story of a refugee that I knew very well, my Nanajee (Grandfather).

My Nanajee was a shop-owner in a small village in the Rawalpindi district of West Punjab (present day Pakistan). These were the times when Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims were living in harmony and infact inter-religious marriages between Hindus and Sikhs were very common. My Nanajee was a Hindu and he married my Nanima who was a Sikh. The story about their marriage goes like this. One day my Nanima's father came home from a marriage and told my Nanima's mother that he has arranged my Nanima's marriage during the wedding. When my Nanima's mother asked him, who the boy was, he replied "I didn't see him, only saw his back, he was wearing a turban and the turban looked very good" (Punjabi Hindus also used to wear turban during those times although different in style from Sikhs, something like Balraj Sahini wore in the movie Waqt). My Nanima's mother was horrified at hearing this but somehow went along. My Nanajee and Nanima got married and my Nanima still hadn't seen the man whom she had married as she was in a ghoonght all this time.

We would often ask Nanajee about their Honeymoon and he would always tell the same story to the amusement of all kids. He went to the room where Nanima was sitting, picked her up and took her to the rooftop. As he put her down on the mat on the rooftop, he gave her a jar of honey and said, "Ek reeya tuhada honey and uhh reeya moon, tusi manao honeymoon tee main chala sone" (Here's your honey and that's your moon, you celebrate honeymoon and I am going to bed)

My Nanima was one of the sweetest person and never asked my Nanajee for anything in her life but so was his love for her that he decided that all his sons and daughters will grow up as Sikhs. This was his gift to my Nanima for all the love and joy she had given him (even though the conventional wisdom of that time suggested that children took the religion of their father). If this is not the greatest love story then what is.

Then 1947 happened and suddenly Hindus and Sikhs from Western Punjab (and Muslims from Eastern Punjab) were told to leave their lives behind and go to the other side of the border.

(pic courtsey: http://www.newyorker.com)

My Nanajee like most people didn't believe that partition would succeed. How can one day someone draw an invisible line and call it a border. But things were getting worse day by day, thousands of people were being butchered on both side of the border. My Nanajee decided to send Nanima and their kids to my Nanima's brother place in India. He told her that he will stay back and if things improve will call them back. Nanima moved to India with the kids and as we know things didn't improve, infact got worse day by day. For one month there was no trace of my Nanajee and everyone thought that they may never see him again except my Nanima who always knew that he will make it. And he did. But when he came back, he was in a pretty bad shape and didn't talk to anyone including my Nanima for atleast a month. Its obvious that he saw some things during partition that are better not talked about. With time physical and emotional scars healed up and he again worked hard to make a life for himself and his children.

My Nanima passed away before my Mom got married so no one from my Dad's side ever saw her. But Nanajee made sure that his grandchildren will never forget the love of his life. Whenever we would visit him, we would follow the same ritual every evening after dinner. All the grandchildren would go and sit on the floor in my Nanajee's room. He would first tell all of us a joke in Punjabi, some of which are legendary in our family, then he would tell a sakhi (story) from the life of Guru Nanak and finally end the katha-session (story-session) by telling us a story (or an anecdote) about our Nanima. He kept my Nanima alive through his stories, so much so that sometimes I feel that I know my Nanima better than my Nanajee. He was truly a remarkable man in every sense. His story is a story of one of the many millions refugees who left their lives on the other side of the border to create a new life on this side of the border.

He passed away more than a decade ago but his sense of humor, his love for his wife and kids will always remain with me as an inspiration.

A case of exploding mangoes

2009-03-28T06:41:00.000-07:00

'A case of exploding mangoes' is a refreshing satirical novel based during the reign and death of General Zia ul-haq. The novel is part fiction, part reality and that what makes it so interesting to me. There were times when it was hard to separate reality with author's imagination. The story is based around the mysterious death of General Zia and the conspiracy theories surrounding it. The author, Mohammed Hanif, has interwoven all the conspiracies together to lead us to the eventual death of Zia.

As an Indian I always thought that Pakistan's history was very fascinating and it was more so because of the dictators that ruled the country. Although, none of the dictators had more influence on the country than General Zia (we still don't know how history will judge General Musharraf). One of my Pakistani friend in the office who is very knowledgeable in the history of his country once told me that General Zia was not only the most shrewdest but smartest dictator that Pakistan ever had. Unlike Pervez Musharraf, General Zia did a perfect balancing act between the Mullahs and the Americans. Although one of the interesting conspiracy theory surrounding General Zia's death is that it was CIA with the help of General Beg (his successor) that took him out.

The novel uses black humor to keep the story interesting. How can a rectal examination of the most dreaded dictator that makes him seem helpless not be interesting. Also, the part where General Zia's wife catches his picture in the newspaper staring at a Blonde American reporter's assets and then kicks him out of her room is hilarious. Ironically, it is a sad fact of South Asian history (and literature) that humor quotient has always been very low in its politics. Apparently not many people will find humor about the time when Indira Gandhi imposed emergency on the country. The novel does mention India and Indira Gandhi but it is her brutal death that haunts General Zia and makes him scared of his own bodyguards. I am sure that most Indians won't find the humor relating to India as funny though, whether its General Zia mentioning Gandhi as that 'Baniya' or protagonist of the novel mentioning Lata-Asha as "old, fat, ugly Indian sisters" (although the protagonist also mentions that battlelines are drawn across the country between Lata and Asha fans).

One of the most interesting characters in the novel is Major Kiyani. He is the un-official hitman of ISI and shows no emotions in killing or torturing anti-nationals. According to the novel he is on the plane that crashes killing everyone on board including General Zia. But the Google search on the incident doesn't mention his name as one of the passengers on board. Guess who replaced General Musharraf after he was removed as Chief of Army Staff. You guessed it, General Kiyani.

Before I started reading the novel, I had very limited knowledge of General Zia and associated him mostly with Islamization of Pakistan. He is even accredited with replacing words like Khudha from school books and replacing them with Allah and also drafting draconian rape laws in the country based on Sharia. And I felt that a lot of problems that Pakistan is facing these days is because of the mis-rule of General Zia. He is the one who forged the relationship between Military and the Mullahs. Infact, Red Mosque that caused a lot of trouble during the Musharraf era was the making of General Zia. This novel was not a historical reference on Zia ul-haq but it did gave some insights into the politics surrounding Zia's era.

I am a fan of fiction based in non-fiction setting and this novel found a perfect balance between the two. The novel is a fascinating read and its open-ended ending do lead to more questions than it answers. Who or What killed General Zia? Yours guess is as good as mine.

What's on your mind?

2009-03-24T23:13:00.000-07:00

What are you doing? What are you listening to? What's your status? What's on your wall? What am I talking about? Well, I am talking about Media and how it is taken over our lives or atleast my life. I come from work and the first thing I do is switch on the TV. It is as if Mr. Obama on the news channel will solve all my problems. The next thing I do is switch on my computer and check my mails. After going through all the important mails and deleting junk, its time to move onto Facebook and reply to all the comments made on my status, photos, links, videos and the list goes on. Now its time to snoop into other people facebook pages and type my comments on their status, photos, links, videos and yet again the list goes on. Now that I have told everyone what's on my mind, its time to tell my twitter friends what am I doing. Mr Obama is here too encouraging me to volunteer in my community.

As I woke up today in the evening, I didn't switch on my TV and fought the urge to push the power button on my computer. I decided to sit on my couch and do nothing. It was hard work, doing nothing and my mind was racing from one thought to another but I sat there for almost 30 minutes doing nothing. What was on my mind? Lots of random thoughts. What was I doing? Trying to do Nothing. What was I listening to? My own thoughts.

I remember growing up in socialist India where we didn't had TV till I was almost 6 years old. The only media influence we had at home was the Akashwani Radio which I would listen for half an hour with my Mom when they will play the top ten songs of the week. The rest of the day, I would play with friends or do my homework. Then came the Black and White TV, which was an event in itself. Half the time we would be on our terrace trying to adjust the antenna to get a clear signal. I started spending more time infront of the Idiot box but was still bound by limited number of watchable shows. Then came the Color TVs and the cable channels and suddenly I had the power to choose the channel or the shows. VCR bought the cinema to my home and the value of another social event of going to movies diminished. Finally we got the computer and it gave all the power to me. Now with the advent of social media I am at a point where I interact more with people indirectly (through tweets and scraps) than directly (face to face or atleast voice to voice).

It is ironic that I am eventually using a social media, blog, to convey my annoyance at all the social media that have taken over my life. Although, it doesn't mean that after this post I will stop poking people on Facebook or stop twittering or scraping people on Orkut (remember Orkut?). This post is to remind myself to take atleast 30 minutes in a day and do nothing, to spend time with one's own thoughts and not to worry about, what's on my mind.

Jai Ho !!

2009-02-23T23:43:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was India's day at the Oscars and what a night it was. Even though the movie, Slumdog Millionaire, is a British movie it is an Indian movie by heart. Danny Boyle gets lot of credit for bringing India to the Oscars but it was the slum kids from Mumbai that stole everyone's heart. It was great to see Azharuddin and Rubina, both of whom come from the dirtiest of slums in Mumbai dressed up all in Tuxedos and Formal attire.

The best part of the Oscars was that it showcased the diversity of India like never before. Allah Rakha Rahman - a converted muslim, Gulzar Saab - a sikh (his real name is Sampooran Singh Kalra), Resal Pookutty - a muslim from one of the communist state Kerela, all won the awards as Indians. Apart from the winners, the cast of Slumdog Millionaire represented a Bollywood star, Anil Kapoor, an aspiring model Frieda Pinto, a second generation NRI Dev Patel, a brilliant actor Irfan Khan and then those kids from all strata of the Indian society.

This movie or the Oscars will not change lives of slum kids all across the country but it was heart-warming to watch them celebrating the awards like they won it themselves. As far as controversy surrounding the movie, like calling the slum-dwellers dogs, one only need to go into one of these slums to see that these people live worse than dogs. In an interview of one of the child-artist, Azharuddin, he said, "Yeh kutte ke zindagi nahin jeene hain maine". But the movie doesn't compare these kids to dogs even though it calls them slumdogs. In one of the scene from the movie, after rioting when the brothers lose their mother and have taken refuge in a discarded pipe, Jamal Malik the film's protaganist asks an orphan girl Latika to come under the shade. It showed the human side of slum kids in a dog eats dog world.

Its no coincidence that the movie resonated with people around the world during the biggest recession of our times. The movie is about a triumph of an underdog and all of us are in some ways underdogs during these hard times. We all want to come out triumphant and aspire to become millionaires if not become one.

Slumdog Millionaire was not the only movie that made us proud. A small documentary about a girl from small Indian village with cleft lip, Pinki, called Smile Pinki also bought smiles to billions of people from around the world. It showcased how people like Pankaj, a social worker who travels from one village to another to find kids like Pinki with cleft lips and bring them to Varanasi to provide free surgery, only to bring a smile on their faces.

Jai Ho to all the Pinkis, Azharuddins and Rubinas of the world !!

Yeh Dilli hain mere yaar...

2009-02-10T02:39:00.000-08:00

Dilwalon ke Dilli is not just a phrase made out of convenience. Delhi or Dilli (as it is called by localities), lies in the heart of India. It is the strategic location of the city that has made it the cultural and political capital of the country. If a balance between heart and mind rules a body then Delhi has always been used by the political minds to rule India. There is a good reason why Delhi has the highest number of archaeological monuments compared to any other city in the country, everyone who ruled the city wanted to leave their legacy.

Recently Delhi has found prominence among filmmakers as a favored destination to shoot movies. Indian film industry at one time was possessed with Mumbai for obvious reasons as the movie industry was based there and the mafia provided an exciting black, white and gray character shades to the stories. One of the earliest movies that I can remember based in Delhi was Chashme Badoor (its still one of the best comedies to watch) but Delhi of the 80s was all together a different city.

A scene from Chashme Badoor

The wide roads with hardly any traffic baring a few Ambassadors, Bajaj Chetaks and Rajdoots has been replaced by millions of cars, buses and bikes, rushing through the insane traffic of the city. But there is still something fascinating about the city that is attracting filmmakers, yet again, to explore the possibilities of the city.

Delhi is a melting pot of cultures from all over India. There is no other city in India that has embraced people from all walks of life. Mumbai maybe the cosmopolitan hub of India and Kolkatta the artistic hub but Delhi is a city that welcomed refugees from Pakistan after partition to recently attracting illegal Bangladeshi migrants. Although, people that most affected the city were the Punjabis that came from Pakistan after partition. Recently when I was listening to a podcast interview of celebrity-cook Madhur Jaffrey, she talked how the cuisine of the city changed after the Punjabis migrated to the city. Shahi Paneer and Butter Chicken which have become synonyms with the city were no where to be found during the 50s and it was the Punjabis that introduced paneer to the city. I clearly remember the first day we moved there from Dehradoon, Mom and myself decided to go and get the gas connection. The lady sitting on the counter was a South Indian and I may have asked "Gas connection ke liye apply karna tha" to which she replied "Uthee form peeya hain, uh bharke mainu de do". My jaws dropped after hearing her speak so fluently in Punjabi.

A scene from Delhi 6

Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra who captured the youth of Delhi so well in his last movie, Rang De Basanti, will be releasing his next venture Delhi 6 pretty soon. The promos of the movie shows a fascinating yet neglected part of Delhi, the Old Delhi - the Chandni chowk, the Jama Masjid, the Red Fort, the Sis Ganj Gurudwara, the Parathe waali gaali, the famous jalebis. This post is inspired by the images from the promos of Delhi 6, which took me back to my city, Dilwalon ke Dilli.

Hope-O-Bama

2009-01-21T00:20:00.000-08:00

As I entered the Metro on the way to work, I passed two men of African origins. I took my seat right behind them and was listening to my iPod when the name of Obama rang in my ears. Just out of curiosity I paused my music and the two men were talking about him on this historic day. There were talking about how in Kenya they showed that Obama father's village had no electricity on this day and everyone was hooked to the lone television, running on generator, which was showing his inauguration ceremony. It stuck me how the whole world and esp. the African continent was hoping against hope that this day will come and soon.

There is a good chance that Obama will not bring electricity to his father's village, he may not even do as much as Bush has done for the African continent (as a promise to Colin Powell for his support on Iraq war), he may not even bring peace to the dark continent, but one thing he brings to all the people of the world is 'hope'. From Gaza to Kabul to Nyangoma Kogelo (Obama's family village) people are hopeful that better days are ahead and we as people can achieve the impossible dream. Yes we can.

Ghajini-effect

2009-01-10T23:35:00.000-08:00

I was reading an article on the movie Ghajini the other day, and the article mentioned about the curious name of the movie, Ghajini, and how not many movies are named after the bad-guys, which says a lot about huge egos of our so-called heroes. It got me thinking, what if our Hindi movies were named after the villains rather than villain-bashers...

Ramesh Sippy's classic Sholay would have been called Gabbar ke dole.

Anils Kapoor's classic Mr. India would have been Mr. Mogambo Khush hua...phir marr gaya.

Yash Chopra's ghost-directed Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge would have been called Baaujee itni aasani se dulhaniya nahin le jaane denge.

Karan Johar's semi-autobiographical Dostana would have been called Kabbab main haddi (aka Priyanka Chopra)

Oscar nomicated Lagaan would have been Lagaan or no-lagaan, we will rule you for 100 more years.

Vishal Bhardawaj's Omkara would have been called Omkara.

Aamir Khan's directorial debut Taare Zameen Par would have been called Ignorance dharti par.

Farhan Akhtar's classic Dil Chahta hain would have been called Dil chahta hain...ke main tujhe zor se thappad maroon.

SRK's one of the best movie, Baazigar would have been called Mr. Chopra le gaya tera ghar.

Barjatya's rona-dhona drama Hum Saath Saath Hain would have been called Hum Saath Saath Kyun hain

Happy 2009 !!

Joy of celebrating movies...

2008-12-27T20:32:00.000-08:00

I was an year old when my mother started taking me to an open-air theater in our army cantonment to watch movies. I obviously don't remember most of the movies during those times but she would later tell me that unlike most kids I would not cry and be trans-fixed to the big screen. I believe my love for movies started during those chilly nights. Later when I grew up, we would goto movies every Saturday and my job would be to run to the ticket counter to get the tickets.

The first movie I remember watching was Superman. For a month after watching that movie, I would jump from our couches with a cape trying to save the imaginary world. One of my most memorable movie moment was when we were watching some Amitabh Bachchan's movie in an open-air theater and it started raining. The movie was about to end but everyone was so engrossed in the movie that we all held our chairs over our heads till the movie ended. There were some other funny moments during those open-air era. The screen during those times were put against an Army vehicle and there were times when the wind would blow off the screen and we would end up watching part of the movie on the Army vehicle.

Movies became a staple diet after those early days, although the cinema halls and later the multiplexes took out the romantic charm of watching movies like the old days.

So today when we watched an excellent movie Slumdog Millionaire in a 50's style single theater, Garneau theater, it transported me back to good ol' days of watching movies.

There was a certain charm at first waiting for the tickets in a chilly evening, then waiting for the curtains to open and ending the movie with a round of applause. The movie itself was worth all the applause but it was the warm ambiance of the theater that transported me back to the days when movies were celebrated.

The olive branch...

2008-12-13T15:58:00.000-08:00

There is a very poignant scene in the movie Gandhi when Om Puri's character tells Gandhi (played by Sir Ben Kingsley) that he killed a Muslim boy because Muslims had killed his son and Gandhi tells him compassionately to adopt a boy with one condition that the boy must be a Muslim orphaned during the riots and should be raised as a Muslim. The scene shows the practical application of compassionate behavior. You may agree or disagree with Gandhi and his philosophies (I will be the first one to disagree with him) but his experiments with truth, compassion and peaceful protests, are unmatched in their practicality.

The Mumbai attacks which started on 26/11 have once again raised the debate on how to tackle the menance of terrorism around the world. The first reaction of most people was of horror and fear. The whole series of events looked unbelievable and most of us were glued to their televisions. The second reaction was of anger, anger against the perpretators of this ghastly act of violence, anger against politicians, anger against the security agencies and their lapses. The third reaction was a human chain and peaceful protests on the streets of Mumbai and Delhi.

Where does Gandhi and his experiments fit into the whole situation? Is Gandhi still relevant when trying to tackle modern-day terrorism? Gandhi once said that non-violence will only work if the opposite side is civilized and has a conscience. Are we dealing with civilized people or people with conscience here? The act of 26/11 itself will suggest the answer as "No". What can we average people do to deal with such situations which are not in our control? Can we do anything? From my perspective the answer is "Yes".

If you get an opportunity make a friendship from across the border but the friendship should be without the burden of past, without the tension of the present and without the uncertainty of future. It may not be easy in today's tensed time with both sides accusing each other of prejudiced-allegations but these are not easy times. The solution will not be practical for 90% of Indians and Pakistanis because of lack of communication tools but if 5% of bad elements can create tension between the two countries imagine what 10% of friendships can do.

I took my opportunity couple of years back and now whether it is bombing of Marriott Hotel or siege of Taj Hotel, there is a prayer on my lips for those affected by the tragedy and I know there is someone praying from the other side of the border for the same.

A moment of silence and a lost thought

2008-11-30T23:11:00.000-08:00

A moment of silence for all the people who lost their lives to an inhumane act of violence in Mumbai.

'Welcome' to Sajjanpur

2008-11-01T22:20:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Sajjanpur was the "surprise package" movie of this year. It was as surprising and even better when it came to surprise-factor than Manorama Six Feet Under from last year. Me and my brother had read good reviews about the movie but the movie never had the hype to make us look for its DVD immediately. It was only after one of my good friend mentioned it, that we looked for the movie. The movie turned out to be sweet, funny, sad, cute, authentic all at the same time but it was the final twist in the story that turned the movie upside down.

Me and my brother are fond of movies, especially Indian cinema and the best part is that we have similar taste atleast when it comes to movies. But we have found that our taste don't tend to match with other people most of the time, so we have to be politically (or movietically ??) correct when talking to people about movies. After we saw one of the worst movie last year, we came up with a process to find if our choice of movies may match other people's. The process is very simple, we ask one question and the answer determines the similarity (or dissimilarity) of our taste of movies. The question is:

Q. Did you watch and if you watched then did you liked the movie, Welcome (Akshay Kumar-Anil Kapoor one) ?

There can be only three answers, loved it, it was okay, what a crap

If the answer is:
a. loved it (you need a mental check up, since you forgot your brain cells somewhere)
b. it was ok (you may have gone drunk to watch that movie)
c. what a crap (you have good taste in movies, join the club)

Coming back to Welcome to Sajjanpur, it takes place in rural India, an India which seems to have been forgotten by Indian cinema-makers, an India which sustained the movie industry till late 1990s, an India which is the real India, an India where most people still cannot read but love using cellphones, an India where people are killed like animals because of their caste (or religion, like recently in Orissa), an India where girls are married to dogs because she is manglik, an India which young people are leaving to seek "good" life in the other India.

The movie is acted excellently by Amrita Rao (her every shot is worth a watch), Shreyas Talpade (look out for his pre-climax shot to know his range as an actor), Ila Arun (she is hilarious), Yashpal Sharma (as local sarcastic goon), Ravi Jhankal (as the hijdaa). After watching the movie it is almost unbelievable (and yet believable) to think that the movie is directed by Shyam Benegal of such fame as Ankur, Junoon, Sardaari Begum and Zubeidaa.

If your answer to the "Welcome" question was 'c', take a trip to Sajjanpur.

Apocalypse Now

2008-10-11T17:31:00.000-07:00

Apocalypse Now is Francis Ford Coppola's (of Godfather's fame) epic movie set during Vietnam War. Its not a war movie though. It is a movie between good and evil but unlike most American war movies based during Vietnam war, the good is not always American and evil is not the Vietnamese. In the movie, good and evil both are humans who happen to be Americans. Infact, the movie is more of a metaphor, good and evil exists within all of us and it is our choice, which one we eventually choose. There have been cases where people have been wronged, while some try to right the wrong by taking revenge the others believe in forgiveness. Why we choose what we eventually choose is something that we haven't been able to figure it out, despite the advances in human psychology.

The cinematography of the movie is one of the best. Even though the movie was released in 1979, it doesn't look old. The war scenes along with the shots of rural Vietnam are shot beautifully (ironic, isn't it?...ah the magic of cinema where war seems beautiful too). This was an ugly war though, which showed the ugly side of Americans but the people fighting the war on both sides were humans. The eventual losers were not Americans but humanity itself. We see the loss of humanity throughout the movie, whether it is the scene where the Commanding Officer plays an exhilarating song before assaulting a Vietnamese village almost as an ugly fetish or the boat crew killing a Vietnamese boat crew because of the fear of the unknown (in this case a small puppy).

Martin Sheen is excellent as the Captain on the mission but it is his voice and the life story of Marlon Brando's character that takes the movie to the whole new level. Brando hardly has 10 minutes of screen time but it is his story and fear that drives the movie and Sheen's boat towards the eventual end, which never arrives. The movie was criticized when it was first released because it didn't had any ending but there was an ending for me. Good had once again defeated the evil.

Warning: The movie is not for the faint-hearted.

A Secret

2008-10-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

I was very close to my Dadajee and according to jealous sources in our family, I was his favorite grandson. My cousins would always tease me that since I was the eldest son in the family, my Dadajee was always biased towards me. I am not sure if it was true or not (although it was never my fault according to him), but I got to know my Dadajee like no other in the family.

My Dadajee's side hailed from Sargoda region of Pakistan and people from that region are known as "khore" (or rough) punjabis. Their Punjabi is not as sweet as from people in Pindi or Lahore, maybe because of the roughness of the region which rubs off its people and their language. He used to write Urdu poems or shayaris and always kept a diary of his shayaris with him. He later joined the British Army and had some of the best time of his life when he was posted at Congo, Africa during the Second World War. Whenever I would get bored, I would ask him to tell me about his adventures in Africa. We would sit in our verandah under the sun and his stories will transport me to the jungles of Congo, no less than a Indiana Jones movie in which my Dadajee was always the Hero.

His last 15 years were one of the toughest after my Dadijee got paralysis. He dedicated the rest of his life to take care of her every need. It was frustrating time for him but in order to take a break from it, he would either work in our kitchen garden or tell me stories from his days during the British Raj. There was also a little secret we shared.

My Dad was posted in Meerut during those days. Meerut is known for its Hindu-Muslim riots, which starts off almost every other week over trivial matters, but it also known for its old city, its markets and its food. Me and Dadajee would go once a week to the old city market and everytime he would buy a big plate of Jalebis for Rs.10 and we both will eat it with relish. We never took any Jalebis back home as this was our little secret (although later I was told that he was on sugar-free diet during those days). We would then goto the Gurudwara and bring some parshad for everyone. Those trips were some of the best time we spend with each other as Dada and his favorite Grandson. He passed away after I moved to Canada but for me he still lives through his memories and stories.

Happy Birthday Dadajee !!

PS: Happy Birthday Dada jee (now that's my other secret)

A Saturday

2008-09-14T01:12:00.000-07:00

It was on a bloody Saturday we saw A Wednesday, the movie about common man taking the law in his own hands to tackle terrorism. The movie that tries to awaken the common man (or woman), who is sick of going out while looking over his/her shoulder, worried that the next train or bus journey maybe his last. Unfortunately, there were some of those common men, women and children, who paid with their dear life this Saturday.

It was 7:38 in the morning, when my cell rang with the voice of Chandu, informing me that there had been some blasts in Delhi. From that time till my Dad picked it up, my heart was beating with prayers on my lips. It was a relief talking to Dad but with the ambulance sirens (from tv) coming from the background, my first thought was to talk to Mom. It was only after talking to both of them, that a sense of relief came to me. This was followed by making calls to my friends in Delhi and knowing about their well-being. The movie raised the same difficult question, till when will the common man remain silent as long as his family members are alright while 20, 50, 100 other unknown people die a painful death.

The movie may have its unrealistic premise but the question raised are very relevant to South Asian society where terrorism like corruption is sadly becoming a way of life. Naseerudin's character can be any middle class person from Delhi, Bangalore, Colombo or Karachi, who is sick of going out of house with his family worrying if he will come back safely. One of the best scene of the movie is when Anupum Kher explains why he never asked the name of the person, because it doesn't matter if he is Hindu, Muslim or Christian, he is just a common man, sick of some people taking decisions about his and his family's life.

The movie will not change the fear of common man, nor will it affect any terrorist and change his plan to kill innocent people, it may neither affect the Government to take tough actions against extremism, but it may make people aware that change in society can only come from that common man.

May every common men (or women) who lost their lives by terrorism, rest in peace.

Kash aisa hota...par hua kuch yun

2008-06-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

As I was working on a Lotus Notes issue at work, something snapped. "Oh, its just my cuff button that has become undone"... or so I thought. "Oh No, my button actually fell off" Panic Attack!! I took the button and put it in my pocket, knowing very well that now my next job will be to find someone who can stitch it back. I know I know, most people will roll their eyes and maybe say, "...that's so damn easy". Oh Well, this needs a bit of history...

**Flashback with a very weird background score**

I belong to an Army background with my Dad, Grandpa, Uncles, Aunts, all following the Army tradition. Being in Army has its advantages and disadvantages but we will start with advantages that turned out to be my disadvantages later in life. We had a "Helper" for almost everything throughout my Army life. There was this main Helper, who would do all the house chores including getting groceries and canteen ka samaan. There there was a cook who would come occasionally for parties, there was a driver for our jeeps and jongas, there was a dhobi for washing and pressing all the clothes and believe it or not there was also shoe-polish guy who would come to polish Dad's shoes (as in Army shoes tells a lot about person's rank and all, its almost a izzat-ka-sawaal). Rest of the things were taken care by Ma. Anyways, the point is that by the time I graduated from school, I had hardly done any chore myself. Now you would say, "that's not a very nice thing...blah blah" but that's how it was.

After my 12th grade in Dehradoon, I got admission in Engineering college in Karnataka and moved to the hostel and that's where the sayapa (problems in Punjabi) started. My expectations were very low. Kash aisa hota, if someone could wake me up at 6 am with a glass of warm milk, then the bucket in washroom would magically fill up with hot water, the clothes would be ready to wear by the time shower was done, breakfast would be ready on the table, shoe would ofcourse be polished and someone would hand me the tiffin, as I would head to my classes.

But alas, ...par hua kuch yun, my friend would bang at my door saying "uth jaa hero, kab tak karishma ke sapne leta rahega" (Karishma Kapoor was the Priyanka Chopra of that time), warm milk ke jagah subah subah warm gaaliyan sunne ko miltee, the bucket would have to be carried to the washroom and the water would be as cold as Vijay Mallya after the first IPL season, the clothes would be as crushed as Shahid after being dumped by Kareena, breakfast would have to be taken in the Mess with everyone fighting for parathas as Amitabh and SRK fight for TRP ratings, shoes would be as dirty as Salman's jokes in Dus ka Dum and there would be no concept of tiffin.

The moral of the above rant is that with time every chore was learnt albeit the hard way. Now, I can cook my own meals, press my own clothes, do laundry, polish my shoes, prepare my own tiffin etc etc but the one thing that still eludes me is shirt ka button lagana. So, if someone knows how to stitch a button, please contact me with precise instructions in my comment box. Dhanayawad !!

Singing Dakus

2008-05-25T19:37:00.000-07:00

Music has no language but it doesn't hurt if it is in your own language. My first memory of music was the Cibaca/Binaca Geetmala that Mom would listen every night with the mesmerizing voice of Ameen Sayani as the host. It was always preceded by almost as haunting voice declaring, "Yeh Akashvani hain, ab aap sunege Ammen Sayani ke saath, Binaca Geetmala", the early Indian version of top ten songs of the week. Me and Mom will sit around our radio, which was as big as some of today's tv sets, and wait for the Geetmala to begin.

My other early musical encounter(s) came through my Dadajee who was a fan of Urdu shayaris and ghazals. He used to write shayari in chaste Urdu as a young man and according to him had written a diary of Urdu couplets. But he failed to grab that diary when leaving Pakistan during the partition (because at that time everyone believed that they will one day return back home) and it was one of his greatest regret that he did. He never wrote shayari again but didn't forget to appreciate the beautiful tradition either. I always shared a very special relationship with my Dadajee, maybe because I was the first son in the family (or that's how my cousins put it across me). One of the many things that my Dadajee passed me was his love for good shayaris and ghazals. He was a big fan of Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and the moment he would start singing, the whole house would reverberate with wah wahs from Dadajee.

My Dadajee was also a big fan of pair of classical Punjabi Sufi singers, Wadali Brothers (Puranchand and Pyarelal Wadali). For him the world would stop when the brothers would come on tv. Those were the days of Doordarshan and in order to promote Indian arts, there would always be segments of classical dancers and singers. Whenever Wadali brothers would come, me and my brother will run to Dadajee and shout, "Dadajee, Daku aa gayee, Daku". He would leave whatever he was doing and sit infront of the tv with a loud wah wah. We would call the brothers Daku because they had a very rustic look and infact looked like Dacoits to us.

My Dadajee passed away few years back and with time so did my memory of Singing Dakus. On my recent trip to India, as I was shopping through a Mall, my ears caught sound of a familiar voice. It was the sufistic voice of Kailash Kher from his new album and the song was, Saiyaan. The voice was so mesmerizing that I almost followed it with my cousin to the Music World from where it was coming. As I was going through CDs in the sufi section, I caught a glimpse of Singing Dakus and all the memories of My Dadajee came rushing back. I got their "Treasured Moments" CD and it was almost like a piece of memory in a little shiny disc.

After coming to Canada, I downloaded the songs on my iPod and started listening them every evening on my way from work. Apart from all the memories, it was the beautiful tradition of classical Punjabi Sufi folk music, that made me fall in love with their music all over again. Almost every song has a story associated with the rural life of old Punjab (incl. Pakistan side of it), whether its a story of Laila Majnu or Bulle Shah or some other sufi fakir or Guru Nanak. The songs are sung in old traditional Punjabi which has a certain softness to it despite of the harsh but deep throated voices of the singers. Every song is a masterpiece straight out of Punjabi folklore.

Ghoonghat Chak Ve Sajna starts with a beautiful redention of Bulle Shah's poetry with the writer asking a philosiphical question, "Bulle shah kehnde ne, padh padh aap mufazil baneyo, kadhi apne aap nu padiya nayee..." [Bulle Shah says, you have studied and studied and can explain everything, but have you ever read yourself?]. The song is sung very differently from the version sung by Late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Sahab. The art of injecting stories within the song makes it very unique.

Ve Sone Diyan Kangna is another song which is one of my favorites where they render stories about Laila Majnu and poetry of Waaris Shah in a beautiful way. The song is infused with sufi music about love with some amazing lines like, "...Ishq waaliyan de renda sadaa yaar saamne..." [For those in love, the lover always remain in fromt of (eyes)]. Another beautiful way love is expressed is the way they tell the stories from the love story Laila Majnu. One my my favourite story goes like this...

Majnu saab Laila de aashiq saan. Jis vele school jaana tee Laila da naam hee likhde see. "Mere Laila mera rabb hain. Mera mehboob mera khudaah hain." Apne Laila tohn baigaar khudh nu khudh nahin samjheya, Laila nu khuda samjheya. Jis tarah Pir Bulle Shah kehnde ne, "Na tu saada rabb na asee tere bande, naa asee maare marde, jis jannat da tu maan karda, tere jannat vich nayee varde."

Majnu ne apne Laila nu khuda maneya, tee aake phatti tee Laila da naam likh denda hain. Maulvi jee kehnde, kee likh reeya hain. Majnu saab kehnde, kya likhun. Kehte, khuda ka naam likh. Majnu saab kehnde, khuda kaun hain? Maulvi ne kaha jisse La-eh-lah kehte hain. Majnu saab kehte, wohi toh main likh raha hoon. Woh kehta tu toh Laila likhta hain. Kehta nahin, aap La-eh-lah kehte ho main Laila kehta hoon.

Khuda ne khush hoke Mujnu ko inaam deeya aur kaha, Majnu ko bula ke leke aao. Mujnu saab kya jawaab dete hain...

"Farishte jaa kaha Majnu, tujhe Allah bulata hain...
Mujnu saab kehte, kya woh mujhe dekhna chahta hain...
Mujnu unke paas kyun jaaye, Mujnu unke paas kyun jaaye...
Agar Khuda ko zaroorat hain toh Laila bann ke aa jayein..."

Each and every song makes me appreciate the musical taste of my Dadajee and the wonderful tradition of Punjabi folk music. The album is indeed my treasured moments of the Singing Dakus and all the memories associated with them.

Man Vs Machine - Who will win this race?

2008-04-13T20:45:00.000-07:00

It was a beautiful evening and after doing all my chores it was time to relax a bit. I had the evening to myself as my brother had gone to his college, preparing for his impending exams. I prepared my lunch and played the movie, Naya Daur, the Dvd of which I got from the library yesterday. This was the new colored version of the 1957 Dilip Kumar-Vyjayanthimala classic.

My favourite song from the movie, Uden Jab Jab Zulfein tere

The movie was released 10 years after India's independence, when the country was going through a transition phase. India was struggling between the Industrialization of the country vs. the human factor which is the main resource of this vast country. The story like most Indian stories was also about friendship, love, jealousy, family and faith. But like most stories of that era, the movie raised some questions and surprisingly most of those questions are still relevant. The questions about man vs. machine, growing India vs. forgotten India, progress vs. human cost of that progress. As India is growing these questions are becoming more and more important. Questions which cannot be ignored if the progress has to be real.

Uden Jab Jab Zulfein tere in Black and White

Recently there have been lot of news about vegetable hawkers and small store owners threating the new organized retail sector to close down their stores. In some cases they have been successful because the Government is worried about their vote bank. The question is, who is right? Are the big corporations like Reliance ethical in opening vegetable marts across that country, where they can leverage their power to bring down the prices? Or are the vegetable hawkers wrong in closing down these big chains rather than competing with them on equal terms? What about the consumers, do they prefer buying their vegetables after some bargaining and getting some dhania for free or do they prefer to go into air-conditioned shops and buy the freshest vegetables at lowest prices?

The movie is about two friends who get divided by the same girl they fall in love with. The movie takes a dramatic turn when the village which is solely dependent on the forest industry and tongas (horse carts) for taking the passengers of the local train to the villages nearby, encounters machines. In the movie, son of the landlord of that area returns from the city and brings with him machines to replace people in sawmills. Suddenly half of the village is unemployed and the rest of the village, the tonga-wallas, face the same fate when the landlord decides to ply a bus to take train passengers to the village. Protagonist of the movie, Dilip Kumar's character, goes to meet the landlord's son to settle the isue.

Rest of the story surprised me for a very different reason. Second part of the movie was eerily similar to the movie Lagaan. Replace the Britishers in Lagaan with landlord's son, replace the Aamir Khan's Bhuvan with Dilip Kumar's Shankar, replace the cricket match with race between a tonga and the bus, and there you have essentially the same movie. I am surprised that not many reviewers were able to catch the similarity. The scene where Bhuvan accepts the bet is exactly same as Shankar taking the bet from landlord for the race. The climax cricket match with the whole village watching is again eerily similar to climax race between tonga and the bus. Ashutosh should be commended for taking the story and moulding it very smartly. But the credit for the story should goto the original writers and B R Chopra for portraying such a forward-thinking story with the backdrop of rustic village life, which brings me to another related question. Why have the so-called Bollywood moved away from the story of villages.

For a country where 70% of the population is still living in villages, its an irony that only two significant movies, Swades and Lagaan, have been village based in recent times. Is it because 30% of India is now earning more than the 70%? A cinema which had its heart in the villages of India is now catering to the NRI audience while conveniently forgetting the same people that supported it all this while. It seems the progress in Hindi Cinema has left behind the forgotten-ones. The thought makes the movie Naya Daur even more ironic. It seems men (and women) with money, foreign visas and machines have left behind the men with the plough once and for all.

...and a blackout

2008-04-07T00:32:00.000-07:00

...the first thing that I noticed was a familiar picture taken by Marlee inside the bookshop, the shot of an older lady reading the book "nudes". My eyes started wandering for a familiar face that I had never met. And there she was, sitting in red against a red background and almost meshing within it except for a beautiful smile that greeted me. I wouldn't lie but there was an initial awkwardness from my side but it all vanished by the time we sat on the couch. We started talking where we had left in our chats, smses and phone conversations. My first impressions of Marlee was that she was a beautiful girl with a certain innocence about her that reflected in her writings too. She gave me a wonderful scarf from her native Assam while I didn't got her anything, not even the damn red roses. After some iced tea, we decided to go for lunch and I left it onto her to decide since Delhi was like a strange dream to me after so many years.

We decided to go to a Chinese place, Bercos, where I had been before once, long time back. The place was crowded like anything but we managed to find a table for two. I told Marlee to order and almost wished she wouldn't order any kind of dish with silkworms in it (just kidding). Jokes apart, the food was delicious and we were full in no time. Marlee had told me about a Delhi Blogger's Meet that she had been invited to the same day and we decided to join them in the evening. We still had an hour to go, so we decided to goto the Central Park and relax under the winter sun. We called our common and dear friend Mehak from there and it was almost an extension of our chatting sessions together.

Blogger's Meet was in Blue's pub and we walked into some really good music. Marlee met and then introduced me to Lalit, the blogger that had invited her for the meet. There were about 10-15 other bloggers that we had never met online or otherwise. We found a seat at the corner of the table beside a journalist from a national newspaper. We introduced ourselves to few bloggers but were almost feeling out of place as most of them knew each other and were also serious bloggers. It has to be said that Lalit really took very good care of us and in no time we were mingling with bloggers and having the Blogger's meet cake.

It was surprising that couple of bloggers knew me as Seventeen tomatoes but had never commented on my blog and vice-versa. The most surprising part came when one of the bloggers asked me if I knew Harry and I said that I have a cousin named Harry. As it turned out my Bua's son was one of the founders of Delhi's Bloggers Meet. Suddenly everyone was referring me as Harry's cousin. We had couple of drinks and it was almost time for us to leave. We made short videos about blogging and what it meant to us, for the organizers and left. My parents had to pick me up while Marlee's friend had to accompany her. So, we called them at a common place where I introduced my parents to her and then it was time to leave. We had made some plans to meet again but as I said earlier my plans never turn out as planned.

I don't remember when I met Neetie online but its like I have always known her. She used to write poetry but would change her blog-address every time. She would come to my blog once a month and tell me the link to her new blog. With time I was able to convince her to stick to one blog and she eventually did. Suddenly we were chatting everyday and despite of the fact she was very shy, we opened up to each other. It has been a wonderful journey to not only see her grow over time but become a confident and independent girl. Although, with time she almost left blogging and would meet me online once in a blue moon but our friendship remained as strong as it ever was. We would talk about our lives where we had left the last time and the conversation will always flow. I had promised her that I will meet her whenever I would come to India. She would ask me everytime, "Tu kab aa raha hain?" And here I was in India, but again like all my plans, something or the other would come up. First time even though I was in her area since my Bua lives there, it was pretty late when she returned from work and we decided to meet sometime else. Other time she took a holiday to meet me but I had a Doctor's appointment and that plan was canceled too.

It was my last week in Delhi and my Uncle from US was visiting. We once again went to our Bua's place and I called Neetie. She was leaving work and it was late-ish evening. She told me that she will try to see if her cab-driver can drop her near my Bua's place. She called again when she was near our place and told me that she was unable to find our street although she was very near. I told her to wait and I would come to the main road to meet her. As soon as I left, the city blacked out. Here I was, who had no idea about the place, had never met this friend and looking for her without any lights on the streets. I was running from one corner of the street to another, talking to Neetie on phone when she suddenly asked me what I was wearing. I turned back and there she was accompanied by one of her cab-mates who left as soon as I waved her. I crossed the road and met her where she gave me a shy smile. Again after a second of awkwardness we were talking like we knew each other since ages. By the time we reached my Bua's place we were very comfortable with each other. I introduced her to my extended family, including my parents, bua, chachi and even Marshaal, bua's Labrador. This had to be the most awkward way to meet a Blogger, with your whole extended-family in toe. But I was more than impressed with how Neetie handled herself. I could not believe it was the same shy girl who wouldn't even go out of her house for days. It helped that she had met my parents even before she had met me (Post: Meet my parents). We ended up talking mostly about stocks as she is in the stock industry and my Dad has invested in some stocks as well. It was already late and her fiancee was at my Bua's place to pick her up. We bade good-byes and she was away within only half hour of meeting me. Next day she called me and said that never for a second she felt that she was meeting me for the first time and I told her that the feeling was mutual. My only regret was not to attend her wedding which was in two weeks time. Few days back when she showed me her wedding snaps, it was like I was there with her during her happiest hour. As she would always say to me "God Bless !!"

I wish I had met some more bloggers but am sure there will be a time and place for each one of them. I am just thankful that all my blogger friend's made me feel so welcome back home. I can't wait to be back among them soon but this time there will be no plans.

A tale of a rose, a blackout and lots of tring trings (and a sms)...

2008-03-23T22:04:00.001-07:00

I was looking forward to the trip of India for more than one reasons and one of that was to meet some bloggers. Blogging for me started as a way to share my reviews on books and led me to some wonderful friendships. Best thing about these friendships were that these were very different from my "real-life" friendships. I had made quite special friendships all over India during my growing years. My Dad's regular postings made sure that we moved every 2-3 years and I would have to start making those friendships all over again. Most of those friendships would start by scanning the new classroom and looking for kids who had a certain look, whether because they looked studious or helpful or sons/daughters of Army officers. As it turned out, blogging was different. I started visiting blogs based on thoughts/writings of people rather than a "certain" look. And, so I had made friends from all over the world, from every imaginable religious/social/economic/regional background. I made friends with people (mostly gals...ok I confess) that I wouldn't had made even if we were studying in the same school/classroom. This fact made my trip all the more exciting.

I started getting calls on my parents cellphone even before I landed in India (you know who you are...lol). I got calls from almost all my friends during the trip and even if some of them missed to call me, I knew that they only had good wishes for me. I also received few very surprising and wonderful smses from across the border. All these gestures made bloggers all the more real to me. It also made my trip back home very welcoming.

I had made lots of plans before leaving for India and this trip taught me that not all plans come to fruition. My trip to Bangalore/Hyderabad was canceled after my Didi decided to come to Delhi instead and my parents didn't wanted me to go away as it was already a very short trip. I know some of the bloggers from those cities had made some plans and am really sorry for not making that happen. There is always next time but the next time there won't be any premature planning. And then there were some local plans in Delhi that led me to believe that there is always time and place for everything. Myself and one of my first blogger friend, Payal, made atleast 2-3 plans to meet after landing in Delhi but something or the other came up and so it was not meant to be on this trip. It would have been a pleasure to meet her and will be a pleasure when we meet someday later.

Now this trip was not only about disappointments. There were more than a couple of bloggers that I was able to meet during the trip. Surprisingly, I met some bloggers that I had never planned to meet or for that matter knew them through blogs. As I said before, there is a time and place for everything.

My first meet was with a smart, sexy and intelligent girl from North East part of our country, Marlee. I met Marlee through Mehak's blog and somehow found a certain innocence in her posts and comments. There was something refreshing about those everyday posts and we became friends pretty soon. It wasn't long before we started chatting and at one time were sending smses from our breaks at work almost everyday. Even though we have such different personalities, we actually had few little things in common, whether it was some yaadein about Shillong or our sense of humor (although mine is way better than hers).

Marlee had once told me about her favourite bookshop and so we decided to meet there itself as we both love reading. As we were deciding where to meet and all, I joked with her that you can recognize me because mere haath main ek laal gulab hoga. For some reason she found it hilarious and warned me not to meet her if that will be the case. Anyways, the place was decided and I was there few minutes early (its a better way to say that she was late by few minutes). So, I thought to go around CP and actually look for that one rose but to my disappointment there were no flower shops near that bookshop. I was able to find a really cheesy plastic rose from a street vendor but the guy selling won't sell me one piece but wanted me to take the whole damn guldasta. I knew that one rose will give me a kick in the rear but the whole guldasta will make Marlee one of the Charlie's Angel's and myself the innocent villian. So, I didn't buy it but this whole process had made me late by few minutes and had to rush to the bookshop. Now like an idiot I was waiting for her outside the shop while she was sitting inside, in the comfort of the place. It took us 2 cell calls to figure out where we were. And so I went inside the bookshop in anticipation of meeting my first blogger friend.

(to be contd.)

...the bad and the ugly

2008-03-10T21:15:00.000-07:00

Every country has flaws but sometimes we become oblivious to them. Its when we go out of our environment that we notice those flaws more prominently but on the other hand we also notice flaws of the new environment when compared to the older one. The bad and the ugly side of India is not to put it down or glorify its flaws but its an observation from the outside by an NRI (Non Required Indian, ofcourse) ...

On my way to India, I was sitting next to a South Korean girl and after the initial awkwardness we started talking. She was going to India for the first time with few of her friends who were sitting on the other aisle. She took out her guidebook and started asking me about places to visit. I like a home-sick NRI started glorifying India like its the only heaven on earth and angels will come to take these South Koreans on tour of their lifetime. That was until my plane landed at Indira Gandhi Airport and I entered the immigration area. The first words on coming out was WTF (not the words I had originally thought while listening to music of Swades on the way). I had never seen so much confusion in my lifetime. There was construction going on for the new airport and so the one that was operational was as bad as it could get. There was dust everywhere and no one to help the way out. I had to help an old couple fill up the immigration form as there was no help offered by the airport staff. There was so much confusion at the baggage area that my only hope was that my baggage will come out fine. But like everything in India, amidst all the confusion everything turns out just fine and so did my baggage. As I was leaving the airport to look for my parents my thoughts went for those simple South Koreans and what must have been there first thoughts of "Incredible India".

The new airport plan for Delhi - the faster it comes to fruition the better.

The other bad part was encountered as I left the airport and that was our Dilli ka traffic. Ok, I will agree that every NRI gets a road-shock with our traffic, no matter if the same person would have been zooming through the same traffic 7 years back like he owned those roads. For me it was crossing the roads which was an hassle in itself. I remember the first day we went to the Great India Mall and we had to cross the road to goto the Gurudwara on the opposite side. It took me and Mom close to half hour to cross a damn road while people were crossing the road like they were all on suicide watch. Despite the Metro, traffic is bad enough but its the traffic sense of Delhites that makes it worse. People cross the red-lights like they don't exist and horn is used more than steering wheels while driving. I dreaded going out only for one reason and that was the traffic. It takes ages to go from one place to another and the pollution can make any sane person insane within 10 kms range. I think roads can be improved, transportation can be improved, pollution can be checked but how can we improve the traffic sense of millions of people.

The traffic is everywhere except where it should be.

Among all this confusion the most funny part was that couple of fully-functional flyovers were closed because the authorities were unable to find a bloody neta to inaugurate it. I dread the day when Nano will hit the road because where are the roads? According to a report if all the cars on Delhi start running there will be only 450 meters of road left in Delhi. Atleast that will fit few Nanos.

Ok, I haven't come to the ugly part yet. I wouldn't say there were any "really" ugly parts to my trip but there were a couple of incidents that bordered on ugliness. The first incident does not reflect majority of Indians or for that matter Delhites but it was still an ugly incident to go through. We were waiting for our red light on the way to Faridabad and like almost every red-light there were poor kids begging for money. One of the kid went to couple of guys sitting on their bikes and asked "Bhaiya, kuch paise de do, mere behen ke shaadi hain". The guys starting laughing mockingly and replied back, "Abey tere behen ke shaadi bhi ho jayegi, chinta kyun karta hain" and then had a hearty laugh. For me it was the most disgusting incident to witness on the whole trip. I can imagine that it is not fiscally possible to give money to every person asking on the streets but who gives right to people to pass judgments on someone's poverty and that too in such a sarcastic cruel manner.

I had a pretty long conversation with my cousin who was visiting from US about something relating to above when we were passing through McDonald's and she bought couple of Mac burgers for some kids selling roses outside. I argued that its all good to buy stuff for these kids but most people living in India would say that NRIs come here once every blue moon, throw some pennies at the poor and then go away to their "good" life but we have to face them at every street corner everyday. I don't think we came to any conclusion but the fact that if that kid can eat good food one night then what's the harm.

The last ugly part of the trip was where it all started, the departure lounge of the airport. Its sad but there was more security in Malls than at the airport and there must be atleast million people leaving that day. It was so bad that I couldn't even properly say bye to my family. Inside the airport was craziness personified. Although, I was at airport 3 hours before my flight, I barely made it few minutes before. A British lady almost had a nervous breakdown with the kinda of rush and heat. The ugliest part was one American white guy paying bribe to get infront of the line and airport official allowing him with a certain casualness. The first thing I did after the security check-in was to call my parents and warn them not to go outside India till the new airport is built. I was huffing and puffing by the time I reached my flight and was considering it a miracle that was able to board the flight in one piece, which was thankfully 1/2 hour late because of a snow-storm in China.

Even after all this there is something about India that makes you miss it the moment your flight takes the wings. All the bad and ugliness seem very minuscule compared to all the love and affection you get from your own people. I am already missing it and looking forward to my next trip....errr...after the new airport is fully functional.

P.S: Hindustan Times article regarding more counters, entry gates at Delhi Int'l Airport soon...

Good, Bad and the Ugly...

2008-02-24T04:16:00.000-08:00

A trip to India is always special as you come across the irony of the country where good, bad and the ugly co-exist with a scary understanding between each other. The special part about my trip was that there was far much good, far less bad and patches of ugliness. The immortal line from Rang De Basanti seems to be coming true, "Koi country perfect nahin hoti, usee perfect banana padhta hain". I hope in this effort of making the country perfect, we don't forget some of the imperfections that make the country all the more special.

The Good(s)

One thing that has transformed Delhi forever is the start of Metro. For me, Metro is a 21st century miracle almost comparable to building Taj Mahal in the 17th century. It may seem like an exaggeration but the truth is that Metro has put Delhi ahead of any other city in India atleast when it comes to transportation. The miracle is the speed, the smoothness and the efficiency, with which the whole operation is running. Infact, when the whole debate about Bharat Ratna was going in India, the first person that came to my mind was Elattuvalapil Sreedharan, the man behind the miracle called Metro. My experience on the Metro was great. I always wanted to take a ride even though have been on countless similar subways because c'mon this is Delhi's Metro, it has to be special. I loved the security, the efficient and unique ticketing system, the frequency of service and cleanliness of the place. Hats off to everyone responsible for making it possible!!

Metro Station entrance at CP

Although, there are Malls everywhere you look around, it was good to see that Mom and Pop shops are still running and fighting back with gusto. My Mom still feels more at home at a kirane ke dukaan than a swanky shop in a Mall. I think she still prefers bargaining than going through the impersonal store with prices written in stone for everything. I also felt more at home taking Mom to the nearby dukaan to buy aata and seeing the dukaanwaala bhaiya starting with, "Namaste Aunty jee" rather than a scantly clad girl asking "How can I help you Maam?"

My Mom's favorite shop for chunnis in Karol Bagh

My automobile genes got a huge kick on this trip while checking out all the new car models. Its just a coincidence that Auto Expo started as soon as I landed in Delhi. By far, my best vehicle on Indian roads was Mahindra's Scorpion (and it has nothing to do with similarity to my zodiac sign). The hype around Nano (or lakhtakiya car) was another interesting part of my trip. I liked the innovativeness of our channels to show the Nano to the world with catchy titles like, "Nano se naina mil gayee". Although, Nano maybe ready for Indian roads but are Indian roads ready for a Nano, that's a million dollar question for future.

The Great India Mall (ironically with all the American brands inside)

There were thousand other day to day good things about India including the sumptuous food items, family and friends around, a sense of belonging and so on, but those vary from person to person and frankly doesn't make India unique. Its the way India is trying to find its own self that makes India unique. Indian identity which may seem getting lost in the Malls is still found in the bylanes of places like Chandani Chowk. India is not only alive but thriving and ready to sore only if it is able to curtail the few bad and ugly things around it but we will talk about that some time later. For now, let's celebrate the goodness of the place that still feels home, India.

Yaar main India chala...

2008-01-05T17:08:00.000-08:00

Finally, its time to go back home. In about 14 hours, my flight will start the journey to the place that still feels home. Its been a long wait but it all seems worth it at this moment. I am not sure what awaits me there or how it would feel going back after this long time, but this is the journey I have been waiting for...

Ok, now lets move on to the fun part. Here is a whiff of my NRI imagination gone wild...

Scenario No.1 - DDLJ ishtlye homecoming...

Girls in colorful clothes running and dancing in sarson ke khet, flying their dupattas singing "Ghar aaja pardesi, tera des bulaye re...". Some of the girls hanging in jhoolas under the tree singing, "O baaghon main jhoolon ke mausam waapis aaye re..."

Ok, there is one big flaw in this scenario, am not going to Punjab and only way Delhi girls can dance in "sarson ke khet" is if its a name of some dance club, where they won't be wearing dupattas anyways.

Scenario No. 2 - KKKG ishtyle homecoming...

My plane lands at Indira Gandhi airport. I come out wearing black overcoat running towards a waiting helicopter with a bag in my hand. My parents instead of coming to pick me up have decided to sing and dance while doing puja at my Noida palace (errr...apartment). My helicopter lands and I start running towards my home...

The biggest flaw in this scenario is the helicopter. I think it will take all my bank balance to hire one and the other obvious flaw is that there is no space to walk in Delhi forget about landing a helicopter unless malls in Noida now comes with a courtesy helipad.

Scenario No. 3 - Swades ishtyle homecoming...

The haunting music of Swades is playing in my ipod. I am sitting at the window seat of Air India...err...Air China. I have almost finished my supper. I pull back my seat, close my eyes and start imagining the first meet with family and friends. The captain comes on the speaker and informs that we will be landing on time at 1:45 am. I look outside the window and see some blinking lights. I come off the flight, try to argue with Immigration that haven't bought any new electronics, see my parents waving from outside, hug them, put the luggage in the car and leave for my home.

There is no flaw in this scenario and can imagine my homecoming already...

I am excited, anxious, happy and so much more to come home after such a long time. I can't wait to meet my family, old friends, some new friends who I haven't met in person but who are as dear to me. Let the journey begin...

PS: Happy Birthday to Anks. Your Birthday is really a lucky and happy day for me :-)

PPS: Belated Birthday to Preeti (Hyderabad waali). I hope to meet you on this trip :D

PPS: Moral of the post: Whatever the scenario, I am no less that SRK :P

Taare Zameen Par…

2007-12-24T15:47:00.000-08:00

Dekho inhe yeh hain, oos ke boodien…
Patoon ke godh main, aasman main koodien…

Angdayee lein phir, karvat badal kar…
Nazuk se moti, hans de phisal kar…

There are movies that entertain us, there are movies that make us sad, there are movies that mirrors our society and then there are movies that can bring a change in that society. Taare Zameen Par is one such movie that can bring a positive change in our society and how we deal with kids. The movie takes you on a journey through the eyes and mind of Ishaan, an eight year old kid suffering from dyslexia. The movie is not about special need kids or dyslexia but it is about everyday kids and how they are conditioned in our society to succeed at every cost.

The movie takes ones attention from the first shot, shot of Ishaan trying to catch fish in his school pond. It tries to explore how a child’s mind works in our complex and competitive society. As Aamir’s character says in one scene from the movie “We are not raising kids these days but products in assembly lines.” The movie is not about kids who are able to cope with this competition and succeed but millions of other kids who are not able to compete in this fast-paced world and are termed as, losers, idiots and bevakoofs. Is losing such a bad thing? Is succeeding everything in our society? Maybe it is, because it’s a dog eats dog world. We have created a society for winners but there is no place for losers in our society.

The movie deals with all these questions in the most sensitive way. Aamir’s character, Raam Shankar Nikumbh, as a teacher who tries to understand children’s psyche is a masterpiece of work. Aamir as a Director never for a single shot lets his own character dominate the real hero of the movie, Ishaan. The best part of the movie is the simplicity with which it is shot. There is a certain laziness with which Aamir lets us into the mind of Ishaan.

There are number of stand out scenes in the movie but some unforgettable scenes like when Aamir discovers Ishaan’s dyslexia or how he explains it to Ishaan’s educated but unaware parents or how he explains to Ishaan’s Dad the meaning of khayal rakhna in a very subtle way or the climax art show with some hilarious and beautiful moments, will remain with me for a long time.

There is no doubt that this is one of the finest movies to have come out of India in recent memory. Aamir has used movie making to deliver a message that is not preachy. I am not sure if it will change anything in India or make people more aware about the problem of dyslexia but the movie still has the potential to make that change. It is not easy to change society or people’s mindset but actors like Aamir have the most powerful medium of movies to bring about the change. People don’t like changing when they are forced to or preached about and that makes this movie even more important.

As I was watching the title song of the movie, it reminded me of all the special needs kids that I have come across in my life and my only wish is that hopefully every one of them will come across a teacher like Raam Shankar Nikumbh who can change their lives for good.

Yeh toh hain sardi main, dhoop ke kirane...
Utare jo aangan ko sunhera sa karne...

Mann ke andheron ko roshan sa kar dein...
Thiturthi hatheli ki rangat badal dein...

A to Z ... A bit more about Me Me Me !!

2007-12-16T10:11:00.000-08:00

There is this little but bright hope of light in my blogworld that always complain that 'yours truly' writes very long posts but when I don't update for some time, she writes a whole tag so that I would take it. Since I am one of the first three bloggers to comment on that post (I didn't cheat, I swear), here's my two cents...

A - Available? - Always for girls. Boys need not apply.

B - Best Friend - Avi (from my Engg. days)

C - Cake or pie - Pineapple cake and apple pie :D

D - Drink of choice - **hick** Nimbu Paani (what did you guys thought?)

E - Essential thing used everyday - ToothBrush (twice a day)

F - Favorite Color - Blue (most of my formal shirts are in that shade)

G - Gummi bears or worms - Worms (as a kid I used to eat every kind of worm...yummy)

H - Hometown - Agra

I - Indulgence - Aloo ka Paratha (what else?)

J - January or February - January (because I will be in India next year at that time...yeayyyyy)

K - Kids and names - Okie, Dokie and Pokie

L - Life is incomplete without - Someone to care about (wah wah, it rhymes too)

M - Marriage Date - Don't know. (My answer will remain the same before or after marriage...lol)

N - Number of siblings - 1 naughty brother

O - Oranges or apples - Apple a day keeps doctor away (Thank God it doesn't apply to nurses...oh la la)

P - Phobias or fears - Dog biting my butt (seriously...no kidding)

Q - Quote - One person with courage makes an army

R - Reason to smile - Kids :D

S - Season - Monsoon (which I miss from back home)

T - Tag three people - Anyone who loves me :P

U - Unknown fact about me - I was once attacked by foxes while trekking in Ladakh (**howling like foxes**)

V - Vegetable you don't like - Pumpkin (or Ghiaa??)

W - Worst habit - Laziness (**yawnnnn**)

X - X-rays you have had - None

Y - Your favorite food - Apart from Indian, Greek or anything my Mom makes :D

Z - Zodiac - Scorpio (watch out for my sting)

Thank You Hope !!

And the award goes too...

2007-12-01T18:30:00.000-08:00

I will be completing three years of blogging this month and during this time have made some of my best friendships through blogs. Although with time some of them have faded, some of them lost, some of them have been forgotten but then some of them passed the test of time. I may never meet some of the bloggers but our friendships will remain because it has passed a stage where we don't need to comment on each other's blogs to express our desire of friendship. Ok, I don't want to give a long bhashaan but want to do something fun. What can be more fun then giving fake awards to all my friends over the years. This is just for fun, so let's keep it that way...

The laziest storyteller of my blogword - The award goes to none other than Anks. Thankfully for me, I started reading her story when it was almost complete but have heard of some torture stories of the wait for one part after another. Jokes apart, she is one of the most talented bloggers with a knack for writing, painting, cooking, story-telling and travelling (errr...to her 2 hour long job site everyday).
The Smiling girl of my blogworld - The award goes to one blogger who always end her blogs with wishes of smile for others, Anz. She was one of my first friends in the big-bad world of blogging and even though our friendship have changed colors over time, she still remains one blogger who I can chat anything and everything about. It helps that she is awake at most odd times of the night when most "normal" people are sleeping...lol
The funny-bone of my blogworld - I think not only all his bones are funny but tissues, muscles, body-organs, hair (esp. moustache hair), everything is funny. He is none other than Mr. Chandu. If you want to meet him, he can be found outside Bangalore Gurudware on Sundays wearing polka dotted dhoti...he he.
The incident-prone traveler of my blogworld - She writes the best travel posts because something or the other happens that makes it so interesting. She is none other than colorful Colors. I can't wait for her next incident-filled travel to my part of the world next summer.
The Gujrati cheese of my blogworld - She is Gujrati and her blogs are the cheesiest with the extra sprinkling of lovezilla cheese. She is Kaush from the GujjuPunju unity blog. I am not much in touch with her and we had our ups and downs during these three years but also had some of the fun times at the peak of blogging.
The most wanted blogger of my blogworld - She is one reason I am writing this blog because if she would have encouraged (read: bugged) me to keep updating, I wouldn't have made all these wonderful friendships. She is none other than Mehak and she is most-wanted because not only she is most loved but everyone wants her to start writing again. Am I right guys/gals?
The social consious of my blogworld - She writes about everything from politics to women's affairs to movies to sports to shayaris but all her posts have a social consious that makes one think. She is no one else but loonie the moonie. I haven't had lot of interaction with her apart from blogs but she has remained one of the most common visitor to my blog.
The Gujrati-with-eye-on-moon (not to build a Motel) of my blogworld - She is my another Gujju friend who is struck by moon and the heavenly planets. She is the India-crazy Moonstruck who has tried to tempt me by showing up as M&Ms candy...lol. We have chatted, fought, talked, discussed and done everything friends do under the sun (errr....moon).
The sentiMental of my blogworld - She has made me senti and moresover made me mental. She is none other than senti with an extra dose of mental, Neetie. We don't talk regularly these days like we used to but when we do there is no hesitation between us. I keep blabeering and she keeps laughing. She has changed for good over the years and as she always says to everyone, God Bless!!
The cooking Mayteeeeeeee of my blogworld - She is the reason I started to cook regularly and speak so fluent Ozzie English...lol. She is Kanpur-raised Nupur, who is as Ozzie as she is Kanpuriya. She is another blogger who am very comfortable talking to, more so when it is about food. Her dahi-chawal recipe still rocks for a single person like myself. Cheers to you Mayteeeeeeee !! OnO
The rain-girl of my blogworld - She is one of my oldest friend (not in age ofcourse) who has always made me look at rain from different angles. She is another very multi-talented blogger, Payal, who is an artist, writer, poetess, sculpture, fashion designer, Happy Birthday singer and above all a loyal friend. I can't wait to read her next interpretation of rain **hint hint Payal**
The review queen of my blog-world - I am not sure how I forgot to mention her in the first draft of this post but she is really the reviews ke rani of my blogworld. She is the ever vivacious Pinks or as calls herself the lazy blogger...lol. She has written some fabulous reviews, some that I agreed with and some I agreed to disagree with. She is also the most talented when it comes to making her own templates for blogs.
The South Indian with gajab ke Hindi of my blogworld - She is south Indian but knows of atleast 100 ways to give me sweet sweet gaalis in hindi from atyachari to branhmchari to shakahari. She is another blogger who has stopped blogging not because of lack of time but sheer laziness :P She is the fluent-hindi-speaking-south-Indian, Preeti. But beware of her because she is the reason for spreading my polka-dot rumours (grrrrrrrrrrrrr)
The love story of my blogworld - They are the cutest couple in the blogworld with the most heart-warming love story. When a Punju girl meets a Rajsthani guy, it not only results in the most expressive blog but great food recipes :P They are none other than inseperable, Preeti-Sachin. I wish everyone has a love story as beautiful as theirs.
The most hardworking Princess of my blogworld - She is one blogger who has done some action to her words. She may have stopped blogging but her words and actions are an inspiration to me and so many others. She is our Princess who has made a difference to the world we all live in.
The most loved blogger of my blogworld - As the title suggests, she is indeed the most loved blogger of my blog world. She is the elusive Red jee, whose post still haunts my consious. She may only come online once in a while but that is enough for me to consider myself lucky enough to be in her presence.
The across the border friend of my blogworld - When I started blogging it was to meet Indians from around the world, little did I knew that I will meet a friend who I may never meet or who lives in a country that I may never cheer for in a cricket match or who I will have more in common with than anyone I have ever met. She is the blogger from the other side of the fence, Reema. I don't think mere words can describe our beautiful friendship that has broken all borders created by the politicians.
The expressive feeling my blogworld - She is the most expressive blogger whose feelings come poring out of her words. She is very much loved Juneli, who has written some of the most memorable, expressive, extensive and poetic posts. The sincerity with which she leads her life reflects in her posts. She is my another across the more friendly border friend.
The khamakha of my blogworld - She became my friend khamakha, bugs me khamakha, debates with me khamakha, writes khamakha, eats hardly khamakha and is my cutest friend khamakha. She is khamakha se bharpoor, Sonali. She has taught me some Bengali that she herself learned from her friends. She is another of my long-time friend that has made me a better person khamakha.
The cricket crazy of my blogworld - She is crazy and cricket-fanatic. She may not write often but her posts are all about quality that is unmatched just like Tendulkar's 100. She is cricket-crazy and waise bhi crazy Riddhi. I hope she writes often because she is one hell of a writer who can bounce you with her words just like Shoaib bounces Ganguly.
The best combo of my blogworld - She is exotic and she is hot (or as she calls drool-worthy). You can't get a better combo than that and that's what makes her unique. She is none other than Marlee. And to add more spice to that combo, she is one person who can out-smart even myself with her wit and intelligence.
The photogenic photographer of my blogworld - If there is one guy who every girl 'clicks' with other than me, then it is Pranshu. He sees the world from a different angle and is one of my very select few guy friends in the blogworld.
The Bengali beauty with brains of my blogworld - She is my most smart, hardworking, beautiful bengali friend who is one of the best singers in my blogworld. She is the most dynamic Aindrila, who not only has the most unique name but is a unique person in her own rights. She is an amazing person and one of my most cherished friends.
The Chuii Muii of my blogworld - She is one friend who I hope never stop **smiling**. The way she expresses herself with poetry and songs is unmatched. She is none other than my chuii muii friend, hope. She makes sure I smile everytime she sees me online. The simpleness of our friendship is something that makes me hopeful that there are still few things in the world that are best kept simple.
The coolest mom of my blogworld - I wish everyone has a cool mom like her. She is my newest friend, Fuzzy. If only everyone had a sense of humour like her, the world will be a funny place to live in...lol. As Ina would say, "Ma abba chabba jabba"
The best visitor of my blogworld - Each and everyone who visited my blog once and left their comments or read it silently is the winner of this last award. Somehow each and everyone of you have encouraged me to write. Thank You !!

The story of a mystic…

2007-11-24T11:50:00.001-08:00

He was born in a small rustic town in the Punjab province of Pakistan. He came at the time when Muslim rulers were ruling a predominantly Hindu country and the tension between the two religions were bordering on a break-down. He wandered around the world from an early age influencing people from all walks of life. His stories known as sakhis are still part of folk-lore of Punjab on both sides of the border.

Gurudwara Nankana Sahib in Punjab province of Pakistan where the mystic was born

One of his most famous sakhis that my Mom used to narrate me during those hot summer evenings of Jodhpur was when He left his house to go around the world. He was very close to his sister and he promised her that when she will remember him from her heart, he will come back to meet her. One day when she was making roti, it puffed and she started crying because she remembered how her brother loved puffed rotis and next thing she knew He standing outside the door asking her to serve the roti before it went cold. Maybe because I never had a sister, I always found this story the most heartwarming of all his sakhis.

Bibi Nanki, the mystic's sister, saying him goodbye before he left for his travel

He literally traveled around the world from Pakistan to South India to Sikkim to Kashmir to Ladakh to Tibet to Mecca to Iran to Iraq. Like a true mystic he learned from the world around him and passed his wisdom to his followers. He saw how people were discriminating around the world with each other. The world was divided between castes, between Brahmin and Shudras, Shias and Sunnis. Religion was being used around the world to divide people more than unite them. He himself believed in Raam as much as he believed in Allah.

The mystic with his two followers, Bala (a hindu) and Mardana (a muslim), on his numerous travels

Influence of women on his life started from the love he shared for his sister. His view of women can be rightly summed from one of his writings, where he said, “From woman, man is born; within woman, man is conceived; to woman he is engaged and married. Woman becomes his friend; through woman, the future generations come. When his woman dies, he seeks another woman; to woman he is bound. So why call her bad? From her, kings are born. From woman, woman is born; without woman, there would be no one at all. O Nanak, only the True Lord is without a woman.”

His stories have remained but his teachings have been forgotten. His followers are now more interested in saving the religion rather than understanding his teachings. The tension between Hindus and Muslims have only increased with time. While His remains, which turned to flowers when Hindus wanted to cremate his body and Muslims wanted to bury his body, still bloom in another rustic town of Pakistan.

Gurudwara Darbar Shib, Kartarpur, Pakistan, where the mystic turned into flowers

Happy Guru Nanak Jayanti !!

Savitri, Savitri...

2007-11-18T21:23:00.000-08:00

Some of the Ads that have come out of India are truly innovative. Its amazing how people Tivo their shows here so that they don't have to watch Ads and we look for Ads from India on Youtube. Anyways, these days my favorite Ad reminds me of an old show on Doordarshan about reincarnation. There was a story how a young boy goes to a new place for the first time only to realize he has been there in his last birth. The way that story has been incorporated in this Ad with humor is awesome. Love the young sardar jee boy in the Ad and his expressions. Check it out and try guessing what the Ad is about before the end...

Savitri, Savitri, I am also coming to India soon. Watch out **wink**

Diwali Dhamaka – Om Shanti Om

2007-11-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

Suno suno bhaiyon aur unke behno, hamare shehar main aa raha hain Shah Rukh Khan ka Diwali Dhamaka – Om Shanti Om. Isme ladkiyon ke aur kuch ladkon ke chahte atomic bamb Shah Rukh Khan hain. Unke saath patli kamar waali nayee phuljhari Deepika bhi hain. Aur villain ke bhoomika main hain rocket ke tarah lambe Arjun Rampal. Yehi nahin isme 31 seetaron ke ek ladee bhi hain, jo aapke suni zindgai ko chaka chanundh kardege. Toh aaye iss Diwali hamare saath seetaron ke patakhe jaalayee…

If this was 70s then this would be the best publicity in the villages and small towns of India. Actually, it reminded me of the movie scene from Swades and whatever one may say about Indian film industry, the fact is that it is one source of entertainment that has entertained Indians from all strata of life. Whether it was K L Sehgal or Dilip Kumar or Madhubala or Rajesh Khanna or Rekha or Amitabh Bachchan or from today Shah Rukh Khan or Rani Mukherjee, movie stars have always provided an escape for people from all walks of life. A child labor in Dharavi maybe working 14 hours a day to make a shirt for retail giant GAP but when he sees Shah Rukh Khan on the big screen after saving his every penny, he feels like the King himself.

This Diwali we decided to celebrate the festival with the patakhas of Bollywood. The choice was between Om Shanti Om and Savariya but the reviews made it obvious that it will be Shah Rukh who will prevail over the grandson of India’s first film family, Ranbeer Kapoor. All the publicity of the movie Om Shanti Om had made us all the more excited. We booked our tickets online and decided to goto theatre one hour in advance. We first stopped at Ricky’s (I thought they would at least serve me for free) for our dinner. We reached theatre on time, grabbed our tickets and stood in the line of all desis, which is an experience in itself. I think people in India are 10 times more civilized now then desis living here. The moment the door opened people started crossing the line to go ahead. It took me back to the days of single screen theatres in India where as soon as the ticket window would open people would start running as if Shah Rukh himself is the person issuing the ticket. Inside the theatre it was worse with people grabbing chairs worse than our politicians. Finally we were able to find some decent chairs and were able to see idiocracy of desis from the vantage point. After 45 mins of mindless Ads the movie started…

I won’t give away anything about the movie but it was indeed a Diwali Dhamaka. From the first shot till the last, it was a celebration of Bollywood. The movie had everything that every desi crave to watch. The best part of the movie was the colors, it was like watching a rangoli on screen with so lively colors of clothes and the stars themselves. The storyline though borrowed in parts from Karz (and those who don’t believe it needs to watch Karz again) was very well executed. From the bell bottoms of flabby 70s to the torn jeans of abs-induced 2007, the movie was rocking in ever sense of the way. Even though the story was unbelievable it was executed to perfection by Farah Khan. The comedy parts, the senti parts, the music, over-the-top acting, the dances, were all very integral to the storyline.

Farah Khan has indeed hit the bulls eye this time. If I thought Main Hoon Na was the worst superhit then Om Shanti Om is gonna be her best superhit movie. She has grown in leaps and bounds as a director. The camera angles, the lighting, the colors, the visuals were all stunning to say the least. She has shown that she can make a male-dominated movie with as much conviction as any other director in the country. Hats off to her!!

The music of the movie was the most rocking and yet melodious of this year. The picturization had to be good as it was Farah Khan’s movie and every song was picturized as beautifully as it could have been. My favorites were Main Agar Kahoon, which has been picturized in the style of 60s and 70s, Ajab Si, which is the most romantic number and will make girls drool over SRK’s dreamy eyes and Deewangi Deewangi, which was the most exciting number with 31 stars adoring the screen (with my favorite being Mithun Da).

This is a Shah Rukh Khan movie all the way. I think every theatre should keep the medical kit handy as many girls will faint after seeing his dreamy eyes with shirt-less abs. There were few girls sitting beside us who would almost jump on their seats whenever SRK was on screen (and believe me he is there in almost every shot). So, if you are a SRK fan then this movie will make you his a/c and if you are not then this movie has the potential to make you one. This movie required over-the-top acting and there is no better actor than SRK for that. Watch out for his over-the-top South Indian acting sequence, it will make all kind of knots in your stomach from laughing so hard. SRK may not be the best actor but his movie has proven that he is the best entertainer.

I don’t think there have been a beautiful debutant as Deepika Padukone. She is the daughter of India’s best badminton player till date, Prakash Padukone and believe me if this is how it works, every guy in India should take badminton. She is oh-la-la **whisting** **howling oooooooooooo** **drooling** *sighing** **huffing puffing** . Ok ok, I am getting over the top too but this is only in the spirit of the movie. Deepika doesn’t only looks great but she can act beautifully too. I think her eyes speak the language that only we guys can understand. Watch out Bollywood!!

Arjun Rampal as a villain is great. The role suited him to the T. I don’t think anyone could have done better than him. Shreyas Talpade was a revelation in this commercial affair and will go long way. Kirron Kher was perfect for an over-the-top-melodramatic Mom. Infact, casting of every character was just about perfect. But for me among all the special appearances the one that took the cake was none other than Akshay Kumar. He is indeed the comedy king of Bollywood and no wonder why.

I think this was the best way to celebrate Diwali by watching patakhas on the screen rather than polluting the environment by blowing them on streets.

Haan toh bhaiyon aur unke behno, agar aapko yeh review padhne main mazza aaya toh phir movie dekhne zaroor aayeega kyunki “Picture abhi baaki hain mere dost”.

Shakal-e-kitaab...

2007-10-31T22:39:00.000-07:00

Shakal-e-kitaab or Facebook, as it is more popularly known, is a $15 billion worth phenomena that has swept the social networking world. I think million new applications are made everyday (exaggeration…duh!!). Although these applications can be annoying but the site is still very addictive as it keep updating you about your friends. So, now I know if R is shopping for shoes (ha ha!!) or M is perked up coz the payday is coming soon (lol) or G is craving Greek food (wink) or Ri is wishing everyone a happy Halloween. Oh that reminds me Happy Halloween to everyone from my side too.

Last week Facebook showed me the real power of social networking. As many of you know that my Dad was in the Army, so I have traveled a lot and changed 11 schools till my 12^th grade (blah blah blah). There are some obvious perks of an Army lifestyle, you get to travel to many exotic places that you would never visit otherwise, Army canteen has always been great for buying goods at sometimes half the price than retail, making new friends all over the country and meeting people from different backgrounds. There is one big disadvantage to this lifestyle though, forgetting friends as you move from one place to another. I have lost touch with almost all my school friends because of this wandering. I have made lots of friends over the years but there were two that stood out, Sree and Anuj.

We were living in Meerut, the city known for its Hindu-Muslim riots, and my Dad had decided to put me in Kendriya Vidhyala School from St. Mary’s Academy as the former was an Army based school and made it easier for us to move in case of sudden posting in between school years. It was my first day at school in 8^th grade. I was a very shy kid in those days (still am **sharmaying**) and was eating my lunch alone in the class.

“Hi, my name is Prashant and this is Anuj. What’s your name?”

“Ricky **eating aloo ka paratha that Mom had made in morning**”

“This is your first day at school, right?”

“Yea”

“Which school did you come from?”

“St. Mary’s Academy”

“Oh!! What percentage did you passed your 7^th grade with?”

“74%”

“Want to be friends?”

“Sure”

This was a start to one of the best friendships of my school life. They both were the smartest kids in class, trying to outdo each other to come first. Sree was a South Indian genius with varied interests. He would make helicopters by carving wood, knit his own sweater for winters and come to school on his grandfather’s antique bike. Anuj was a very typical UP ka ladka, very conservative but very smart. Sree used to live in Army Cantonment area, while Anuj lived in old part of the city called Begum Bridge. We would often hang out at Sree’s place as Army Cantonment areas are usually nicer than rest of the city. We would play cricket, study together and goof around, all day long. Sree’s Mom used to make some of the yummiest Rasam with rice and Idlis, that we would end up eating after a game of cricket in the nearby maidan. This was my daily routine for the next 2 years until it was time to move on.

We moved to Dehradoon, while Prashant moved to Chennai and Anuj stayed in Meerut. I kept in touch with Anuj by snail mail but over time the mails stopped coming. I made new friends, moved from one place to another, settled in Canada but could not forget our friendship. Infact, the only sole picture of us three during Prashant’s birthday is etched in my head like a Mohenjodaro carving on stone.

Few years back, I was searching for someone on yahoo and instinctively searched for Sree. I got one hit with the same name; I emailed him and got a reply after a week, saying that he was the same Sree from Meerut. I replied him again but never got the reply back, so assumed that someone was playing a prank. Last week, I decided to try my luck in Facebook and again got one person with exactly same name. I left a message and got a reply after 2 days that he was the same Sree. But this time I was sure he is the right guy because my name in Facebook is Ricky but he replied me by my non-nickname. I got another message from him today, telling me where he is, what he is been up to and remembering old times. Unfortunately, even he has lost contact with Anuj.

This may seem like a small thing for most of the people reading this mail but for me it is a big thing. All my friends on Facebook have friends from school except me and I would always wonder what Sree and Anuj would be doing at this stage of their lives. Thanks to Facebook, now I know about atleast one of them…

Trip to Remember (continues...)

2007-10-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

Next day we got up early…errr…at 9:00 am that is. Got ready and headed towards the town as we were hungry for breakfast. On the way we saw these trolleys going on top of the mountain and the sight was straight out of some James Bond movie. As we had already made plans to bike on the trails, we decided to go to the trolleys next time. But first we went to McDonald’s for our breakfast as we didn’t want to spend too much on food and we both are fan of McDonalad's breakfast.

View from the McDonald’s

We then rushed to check out the bikes for our biking hikes but were disappointed to found that all the cheap bikes were gone and the one that were available were costing a fortune. We decided to go to the Information Centre to find out other things to do apart from biking. The first thing that caught my attention was the pamphlet for Gondola Ride, the same trolleys we saw in the morning. We asked about it at the information desk and were surprised to know that the rides were almost same price as the bike rides. We still decided to ask about bike trails and were told by a very French lady that there are not many as most hikes are accessible by foot only.

Our mind was already made and we headed straight to the bus stop towards the Gondola ride. On the way to the ride we remembered our “trolley” incident back in India. I was in 4^th grade then and brother was in KG. We were stationed in Panchkula, a small suburb of Chandigarh. It was home to very famous Timber trail trolley. Our cousins were visiting us and we all decided to go. We reached there and we (me and my brother) developed cold feet. Actually, my brother always used to do what I would do, so its fair to say that I developed cold feet and we decided not to go on the trolley. Our cousins tried all there tactics to persuade us but to no avail. Finally, they decided to go without us, while we played on the swings.

Gondola Ride to Sulphur Mountain

As we reached near the Gondola ride, I noticed there were no swings and so there was no escape this time around (lol). The height of the mountain looked daunting but we believed in the Swiss technology and went for the ride. The ticket checker was a very friendly guy and asked where we were from. Disappointment came on his face, when we said Edmonton because he was thinking we will say something exotic like India. The trolley was for four people but if no two people were available immediately, they were letting two people go together too. When our turn came, we were seated with an American couple. As the trolley started to move upwards, my stomach started to churn and the American lady facing us said “I am so afraid of heights”. My brother joked, “So, you mean we can’t dance during the ride”. We all had a nice laugh about it on the way but as we were going up, the view became out of this world. All we could do was admire the creation of God with winding river, snow laden mountains, pine trees below us and the clear sky with few specks of clouds. We didn’t even notice when the 8 minutes passed and we were 7000 feet above the sea surface.

View from the trolley. The building from the top is the same Fairmont's Hotel that we clicked the night before.

After we reached the top, there was a long hike to the uppermost part of the mountain. The view was amazing as we could see Rockies from 360 degrees and the topography of the place was something that cannot be described in man-created words. The hike was good with few slippery steps because of the ice. On top of the mountain there was a room which was preserved as it is since the 1960s. It was the room that was used by a Geologist who trekked the mountain alone more than 1000 times to record his data. Peeking inside the closed door was fascinating with things preserved from that era including canned food, bed sheets, his letter, pencils, log files and logs to keep him warm. The only sour point was outside the room where people had scribbled their names and professed their love. Guess what was most prominent name, “Rahul love Nisha”. Give Indian people a historical monument and they will not lose a moment to express their love by ruining it. I should have taken its picture but was too disgusted by some Rahul who am sure came alone and wrote name of his imaginary girlfriend Nisha.

Banff from top of the mountain

It was time to head back as it was getting late but I kept on clicking pictures all around the Rockies so as not to lose this beautiful moment. We went to the restaurant near the trolley and had a nice meal before going down and acting goofy on the way, as this time we both got the trolley to ourselves. We still had 3 hours to pass the time before heading back and so decided to go hiking near Bow River. The hike was beautiful to say the least except that me and my brother had a nice fall on one of the trails. Although, it was worth it because we hiked to a very secluded area near the river and sat right above the river admiring the beauty of the place. The most beautiful moment was when we saw a newly married couple taking their picture with the Rockies as the background. Alas, it was time to go back. We reached our place and left almost immediately, leaving behind the Rockies. It sounds like a cliché but it was indeed a trip to remember for us. We cannot wait for summer to arrive and go back to Rockies, this time for camping. Anyone interested?

Trip to Remember...

2007-10-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

We had been planning this trip for a while, so when we came to know that one of our friends was going to a conference to Banff, me and my brother decided to tag along. It was a short one night trip as we had to come by Sunday and do seva at local mandir. I changed my Friday shift from evening to morning and left work at 1ish. My brother and couple of friends were waiting for me and we decided to go as soon as I came out of the train station. The road journey was pretty typical with a stopover at Tim Hortons (Canadian equivalent of Starbucks but only cheaper) for coffee in between.

It’s amazing how the geography of the land changes as soon as one arrives near Rockies. The first indication that Rockies were around the corner came when we saw cars coming form the other side with snow on their bonnet. Suddenly the Rockies came to the view from nowhere. Beautiful snow had covered parts of Rockies like a white sheet trying to cover the harshness of the mountains with softness of the snow. We were all enjoying the beauty of the place and in no time we were in the beautiful town of Banff. We checked into the hotel and our friends freshened up and went to their conference.

Me and my brother decided to go out, check out the town for the evening and have a nice meal somewhere. On the way to the town we clicked some amazing pictures but the night was setting in and the picture quality was not coming out that great. The first thing we noticed outside our hotel was a deer lazily grazing without a care in the world. Ah, we were in God's own country.

The Banff market was under renovation but even then it was buzzing with people. It reminded me very much of Indian hill stations like Mussorie, which are always buzzing with tourists. We checked out some bike places and decided to go biking the next day. Surprisingly, we were spell-bound by the the mall in the middle of the town. The Mall was the most unique we had seen ever. It looked more like an Opera house with wonderful architecture and sculptures of real life skiers all around it.

After going through most of the market we decided to have our dinner at a Thai Restaurant, Thai Grill.

The ambiance of the place was beautiful and serene with sculptures of Buddha all around and an exotic bright orange color for the wall. Brother decided to order Pad Thai, while I picked on an exotic pineapple rice dish and exotic it was.

Loved the dinner except that one of the small chilly stuck in my throat and almost choked me. Yea yea, I have become that typical NRI, who speaks like “kitne mirchi hain isme, kaise khata hain tum log”…lol.

We ended the night by trekking back to the hotel but on the way saw one of the most amazing sights of the famous Fairmont Springs Hotel, which is an amazing, gigantic hotel in the midst of jungle over the Bow river and is very Switzerlandish. The sight of the hotel in the night was a sight to behold; we actually had to stop at the corner side to admire the surreal beauty of the place. We could not wait for the adventures of the next day to begin.

(to be contd.)

Will you marry me…errr…again??

2007-10-03T22:07:00.000-07:00

My Chachu is the most romantic person that I have ever met. I don’t remember the days when he married my Chachi but kisse of those days still lingers in our family talks. They had an arranged marriage but my Chachu being the guy he is/was decided that he would not marry the girl without knowing more about her (apart from looking at the picture taken at some photo studio). So, he did what most girls will consider creepy…lol. My Chachi was the punjaban from Jalandhar and Chachu was UP ke bhaiye-types. So, he told his parents that he is going on a trip for work. Instead, he took his best buddy to Jalandhar and they both would stand behind the tree near Chachi’s house and watch her. There are some unconfirmed reports that he met Chachi in that trip but Chachi have never confirmed the reports and calls it the figment of Chachu’s imagination…lol. Anyways, to cut the long story short, he married my beautiful Chachi but made sure my grandparents never came to know about the trip.

Few days back I was talking to Chachi and we were remembering those joint family days. My Dad being in Army was away in Kashmir and so we lived in a joint family with cousins, uncles, grandparents. Those were fun days as we had so many cousins to play with all the time. I asked Chachi, what she remembered about me (narcissist me) when she got married. She told me how when she got married and made lunch for the first time, she asked me, “Ricky, how is the food?” and I said, “Aap toh itni choti choti rotiyan banate ho, mere mummy toh itne bade bade banate hain” (You make such small small rotis while my Mom makes big big rotis). I was surprised that she never forgot my review of her first roti in our house. I think one reason I could have said that was because I was very close to Chachu and suddenly with Chachi around all his attention diverted towards her. He used to smuggle her every night while we would be playing, to go to movies, restaurants, shopping etc etc. Anyways, with time I became very close to Chachi too esp. after Chachu moved to US. After 6 years of struggle, he moved Chachi and cousins to US but by then Chachi had become my confidant.

This is the 25^th year of my Chachu-Chachi’s anniversary and to celebrate the day, my Chachu decided to re-marry my Chachi, once again. So, all our close relatives (incl. my Pa) in US, India came to US last week. It was an elaborate marriage with 7 days of function, right from Mehndi night to Baarat to Doli, all the functions that they couldn’t enjoy the first time because either it was their first marriage…duh or we couldn’t afford at that time as a middle class family. Mom couldn’t come because she recently had an operation and me and my brother couldn’t join either because of some visa issues. I am now waiting for Chachi to come to Canada and cook some parathas for me and believe me, this time my review will be errrr…the same as she still makes chote chote parathe compared to Mom’s wade wade aloo de parathe…lol

Here’s wishing the couple many such marriages to come with themselves as dulha dulhan of course.

P.S: Recently, when I joked with Chachu about why he is re-marrying he said, “Ab tum bacche toh kuch kar nahin rahee, toh mujhe laga main hee shuravat kar doon phirse”…lol

We are the Champions!!

2007-09-26T22:10:00.000-07:00

This was one of my favorite moments of cricketing history, India winning the Twenty20 World Cup. Every Indian cricket lover will cherish this moment for a long time to come. It couldn’t have been scripted better, an Indo-Pak final and one that which dragged till the last ball, holding the breath of billions of people around the world. The truth is that it could have gone eitherway but it was India’s destiny that Misbah-ul-haq will try to pick a shot that will go straight into the hands of Sreesanth. The good part about the final was that it was played hard, with passion and without any animosity. Indians acknowledged the talent of Umar Gul and Misbah-ul-Haq,while Pakistanis applauded Gambhir and R P Singh for their consistency. Infact, whenever I watch the highlights of the final (watched is 5 times already) and see Misbah-ul-Haq on the ground crying at the same time when Indian team was celebrating its victory, my heart goes out for the man who gave his best but could never cross the line.

Yuvraj Singh has been my favorite player for more than one reason. Firstly, he has a typical Punjabi attitude and that what makes him different from the rest. Secondly, he has that raw talent which if harnessed well could reap some amazing crop for Indian cricket and last but not the least; he is one of the cleanest strikers of the ball. Infact, after watching his six sixes, I read that his batting style resembles Gary Sobers and rightly so. Here are the videos of Yuvraj’s and Sober's six sixes and the resemblance in shot selection and clean hitting is uncanny.

Apart from Yuvi, one other person who deserves all the applauds (read Ad contracts) is Mahi (M S Dhoni), captain of Team India. What an attitude!! He gave an excellent example of a leader, the one who inspires but remain cool no matter what a situation, the one who believes in his team of people, the one who applauds his heroes and the one who leads by example.

There were two contrasting sour moments at the end of the world cup that tried to dampen the win that every player in the team deserved. During the presentation ceremony, Shoaib Malik, who was the second best captain in the tournament, said something politically wrong. He said something to the effect that, every Muslim should be proud of Pakistan’s achievement. What Shoaib didn’t notice was that India’s man of the match is a Muslim, India’s opener is a Muslim and the guy by the name of Shah Rukh Khan who hugged the Indian team is a Muslim too. So, Indian Muslims were not represented by Pakistan in the final but they were represented by Team India which won the World Cup.

The other person who did played the religious card once again and that too on the wrong side was Mr. Narendra Singh Modi. When rest of the Indian states are facilitating their players, Modi has decided to ignore two players from his state because they are Muslims. Only if it was Parthiv Patel instead of Irfan Pathan that he would have showered him with gifts. I think the Pathan brothers deserve a better treatment or should move to a different state that will atleast acknowledge their contribution to this cricket team.

This Indian team in every sense represents India, with players from every major religion in the country and filled with youths, which constitute more than 50% of India’s population. Its after a while that whole country was united and happy of its achievement which reflected in the India’s stock market which crossed the 17000 mark for the first time during the trading. We need more moments like these because it is indeed the time when every Indian can proudly say, “We are the Champions”.

Dream Match...

2007-09-23T16:12:00.000-07:00

Oh, this is not a post about my “dream match” because that will happen with Sania one day for sure and I will let her beat me **wink wink*. This is about the “dream match” of every cricket lover, India-Pakistan final in a major tournament, Twenty20 World Cup. If a regular match between the two teams in exciting then this match will raise the testosterone level of every Indian and Pakistani cricket lover.

Shoaib Malik and M S Dhoni with the Twenty20 trophy under Nelson Mandela's statue

I wanted to write this post before the match rather than as an afterthought. It’s because after the match one team will be the loser while other will be celebrating the victory. This is the nature of sport; one has to lose for the other to win. In the preliminary match of this world cup, the game between India and Pakistan was tied and still it was deemed necessary to make one team the winner by silliness of bowl out.

It has always been about winning and losing between India and Pakistan. What people of both countries don’t realize is that one will have to lose for the other to win. If Kashmir goes to Pakistan then India loses and if it stays with India then Pakistan loses. Can’t we call this match a tie without a bowl-out? I think India-Pakistan have the right opportunity to make this a tie match. The relationship between the countries cannot be better even though both still keep on blaming each other on some matters like India accusing groups in Pakistan of supporting bombings in India and Pakistan accusing India of interfering in Baluchistan by arming the rebels there. I am sure there is some truth in all such cases but its time the people of both countries rise above such petty differences. How much progress both the countries would have made if they had not spent billions of dollars on weapons and nuclear bombs rather than spending the same money on education, basic healthcare, and infrastructure. More than 30% of population in both countries is living below poverty line and still we would rather spend more than a million dollars per day on a barren land of Siachien Glacier.

Serenity of Dal Lake is seen to be believed

I am not saying that solution to complex problem like Kashmir can be found easily but some solution has to be found soon. I went to Kashmir in late 1980s when militancy was raising its ugly head in the state but that is not what I remember about Kashmir. I remember beautiful Mughal Gardens, the majesty of house boats and shikaras in Dal Lake, skiing resorts to die for in Gulmarg, apple orchids spread all over the countryside, local people taking angethe inside their traditional clothes to keep themselves warm, smile of beautiful children running around through the narrow streets of markets.

Kashmiri kids with their innocent smile

I don’t want to go back to Kashmir where the Chinar trees of Dal Lake are dieing because no one is there to take care of them, where house boats have become ghost boats, apple orchids have become barren fields, local people are carrying guns to keep themselves safe and smiles of children is replaced by fear of the unknown.

I hope the Kashmir match is a tie for both the countries. I hope Kashmir becomes a peace region and model for every place in the world. I hope Kashmir becomes a melting pot where Indian and Pakistanis can move around freely and exchange ideas, thoughts, art, music and sports. I hope Kashmir becomes an inspiration for every person of the world.

Here is one such inspiration “Kashmir” by British rock-band Led Zeppelin :

Oh let the sun beat down upon my face
Stars to fill my dream
I am a traveler of both time and space
To be where I have been
To sit with elders of the gentle race
This world has seldom seen
They talk of days for which they sit and wait
All will be revealed

Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace
Whose sounds caress my ear
But not a word I heard could I relate
The story was quite clear

Oh, I been flying... mama, there ain't no denyin'
I've been flying, ain't no denyin', no denyin'

All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.

Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace
Like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place
Yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon
I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June
When movin' through Kashmir

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails
Across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face
Along the straits of fear

When I'm on, when I'm on my way, yeah
When I see, when I see the way, you stay-yeah

Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah, when I'm down...
Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah, well I'm down, so down
Ooh, my baby, oooh, my baby, let me take you there

Let me take you there. Let me take you there...

The Invisible Indian

2007-09-18T22:44:00.000-07:00

Recently IBM came up with cutting-edge technology to help deaf and blind people to connect with rest of the world through software. While reading about those technologies it stuck me that these people in India are not only deaf, mute and blind but also invisible. It’s a rarity to see a blind man crossing a street unless he/she has been forced to beg on the street, while using the handicap as a way to make money, in most cases not for themselves but for their bosses in the begging business. Having said that, I personally think that India does a lot for the less privileged, albeit through private efforts rather than Government. The area where India or other developing nations have failed is making these people visible to the world around them.

When I was in Dehradun doing my final years of my schooling, I would pass by a blind school and would sometimes see one or two blind people wandering outside to walk in the open air outside their gated school for blinds. The sight would intrigue me because I hardly saw blind people walking in the streets. At times I would wonder what it must feel to live not only as a blind person but live inside a gated community as well, separated from the rest of the world.

When I moved to Canada those invisible people in India became visible here. It became a common sight to see blind/deaf/handicapped people on streets, colleges, pubs, stores, work places. So, how was it possible that in a country like India, with a population of more blind/deaf people that entire population of Canada, these people were invisible? Sure, we would hear success stories about blind/deaf schools but never see those people among ourselves.

This is where the Government needs to step up because India will never move forward without making such a large population visible to the people around them. We will need to build pavements where everyone can walk without stepping on each other; transportation for special needs people like the Metro in Delhi has provided recently, buildings with access for everyone, street crosswalks with audible/visual signage and much more. It is no longer an excuse that India cannot afford these facilities because it can and it should. As our prime minister, Manmohan Singh said and I will paraphrase, that if India has to grow it has to take everyone with it. India’s progress will mean nothing if we ignore a major portion of the population because one of their senses do not work. It is good to look at innovative techniques like IBM has been working on but the real progress can be made by opening our hearts and minds for that invisible Indian.

Funda cellphone ka...

2007-09-12T23:21:00.001-07:00

Two contrasting stories on cellphone/mobile usage caught my eyes today. Both stories were featured in BBC: "Cancer doubts remains over mobiles" and "India state bans mobiles in class". I am not sure if mobile causes any harmful effects to brain or causes cancer but as the studies shows, it doesn't atleast have any short-term side-effects except for annoyance to the rest of the world. I don't have problem with people talking on their mobiles but am not interested in knowing what one saas thinks of her bahu or vice-versa or a boyfriend faking lovey dovey feelings for his girlfriend in full public view or as some mms scandals have shown...oh well haven't they shown enough.

In India, according to some reports and as BBC article shows, cellphone has become one huge fashion accessory, with an average Indian changing their cellphones every 18 months compared to 36 months for a North American user. It is also interesting to see the different ways in which cellphones are being used around the world. Japanese use it to buy their groceries and hang their little toys on the cellphone for fashion, Indian like playing the latest Himesh number as their ringtones, Americans like slim sized phones and Canadians...err...well they just like to carry a mobile if they can afford the bills since we get charged even for incoming calls/smses.

Anyways, all the above fundas now don't apply to me. Why? Oh well, coz I have given up my cellphone for good-ol-landlines. I have been using cellphone for past 8 years and the question is why to leave now and how is the life without a cellphone. To answer the first question, well me and my brother had 2 cellphones when we were away and that was good way to keep in touch and all. After moving here, we thought we will give up one cell and keep one landline but when our last two bills came for $400 (Rs. 16000), it was time to end this cellphone crap and so we both gave our cellphones and took one landline.

Now, how is life without cellphone? Hmmm...not bad actually. Now whenever we take a call at home we know that we don't have to count the minutes on our hand or risk being screwed by the cellphone company like we were before. Also, because we both are out of house most of the day as I come home at 10:00pm and my brother in the evening, cellphone was a waste since we are not allowed to use cellphone at work/school. Although, there are some things that we miss about cellphones, one of them being sending smses but we already have so many different ways to contact people like, orkut, facebook, email, phonecall etc. that we don't miss it that bad. Although, I miss sending smses to few friends from work (you know who) :D Another thing that can be a concern is that since I come late at night from the downtown area and take subway, it is usually good to have a cellphone in emergency situations but the subway system have got free emergency phones, if needed, and so that's not a big deal either. Apart from that, life without cellphone is pretty good.

I am not saying that everyone should give up cellphone because in most cases it has become a necessity esp. when you need to be connected for your work. It is also a good revolution for India because it cuts-off the bribe-seeking middle-men who took 10 years to give us our first land-line and that too with some chai-paani. Also, in a large country like India, where call charges can be dropped to pennies coz of huge number of users, having a cellphone makes more sense then having a landline.

Anyways, my favorite cellphone story is the one based in India 10 years ago . It was the year 1997 (or1998) and cellphones had recently made entry into the Indian market. An average cellphone costed about Rs 50,000+40,000 (insurance). I was at my mechanic, getting my scooter fixed. A huge Punjabi guy comes in his Bajaj Chetak, talks to mechanic about his scooter problem and looks at me standing there to get my scooter fixed. Suddenly out of the blue, he takes out his new cellphone (size of a shoe-box, no less), looks at it in an admiring way like a lover looks at his first love, presses some buttons, smiles and keeps the cellphone in his pocket. And I say in my heart, "Damn, these Delhi people got one more thing to show-off". Little did I knew...

May the best man win...

2007-09-07T23:12:00.000-07:00

I have been hooked to Indian Idol this year, unlike any other reality show. There have been some great and some not-so-great moments this year but its amazing how we all got emotionally attached to the contestants. Its very hard to keep an open perspective when you get emotionally attached to some contestant for one reason or another. There were some amazing contestants this year although there was one kid who was the most different and likable of all, Meiyang Chang. An oriental guy from Dhanbad, Jharkhand, who got famous for being a great-grandson of Chinese immigrants and yet more Indian than anyone else.

He brought that something different to this show with his beautiful soft voice. As a blogger it felt good to know that he was also an avid blogger, who made it big. There were some other amazing contestants like the confident 17-year old girl from Kanpur, Ankita, beautiful and simple girl from Dehradoon, Charu, an amazing singer from Patna with an ambition of being a RJ, Deepali, girl's favorite punjabi munda, Parleen, the girl with husky voice, Puja and many more. Also, loved the smart comments from new Judge, Javed Akhtar, although hated another new judge, Udit Narayan, who was good for nothing but still less annoying than Anu Malik and Alisha Chinoy.

It is now left to last three contestants, the guy with "cute" factor according to Girls, Emon, the boy with most mature voice, Amit and the dark horse, Prashant.

My favorite in every which way is Amit Paul (and it is nothing to do with the fact that he is from Shillong, were I spent few of my growing years) although this year I won't mind any one of the three winning. Yes, you heard me right. I won't mind even if Prashant wins because even though he is being ignored by blog and print media, he represents people who may not be literate enough to write but know the power of voting. Its a fact of Indian democracy that while middle and upper-middle class talk, its the lower-middle class that votes. Prashant may not be the best singer or best performer or the best personality but he holds the hope for millions of Indians who are underdogs and never got the chance to stand up to affluent-mall-hopping Indians. Having said that, Amit is still my favorite because he doesn't only look like a great singer/performer in making but also a nice guy.

I cannot finish this post without mentioning one name, Emon, because there is a good chance that someone can hurt me if I don't (Read 'someone' as Reema or Arpita). He may have his ups and downs but he was the one with best sense of humor and jolly nature. He is no wonder a star-to-be but his chances of winning or even coming as top-two is low because of the surging popularity of Prashant and Amit. Amazingly, all three contestants are from eastern part of the country.

Unlike last year, am not promoting anyone (yea, like the one I promoted last year, won...lol) this year but may the best man win...

The Glass Palace by Amitav Ghosh

2007-09-02T23:22:00.000-07:00

(I have tried not to give any part of the story except for what maybe included at the back cover of the book)

I was introduced to the writing of Amitav by Colors through his latest book, “The Hungry Tide”. I found his writing fascinating because of the fact that the setting of his novel was as much a character as the people in it. As I was opening my luggage after moving to Edmonton, I was surprised to discover that I had a copy of Amitav Ghosh’s “The Glass Palace”, which was given to me by my cousin before leaving for Canada. I never got the chance to read it and the book relegated to the obscure corner of my bookshelf for 6 years. When I started reading Amitav Ghosh's The Glass Palace, I decided to mark those pages that have a great quote or something that I would like to read more about. By the end of the epic novel, I had more than 80% of the book marked.

Burma, which is as good as one of the central character of the novel because of the mystery, untouched beauty and uniqueness of the place.

The Glass Palace starts from the calm waterways of Mandalay in Burma, moves to the beautiful port of Ratnagiri in Maharashtra to the sameness of rubber plantations of Malaya into the conflict of Indian National Army against British forces during the Second World War. This is a story of three generations starting and ending with the family patriarch, Rajkumar. If “Hungry Tide” had the setting of Sundarbans as one of its principal characters then “The Glass Palace” has Burma, Ratnagiri and everything in between as part of its characters. Amitav, the writer, takes us to the places that we only read in books and may never visit because maybe they are inaccessible like Burma or out of the way like Ratnagiri.

Thibaw Palace, Residence of Burmese King exiled in Ratnagiri by British. King Thibaw is one of the few real characters in the novel.

Another character of this masterpiece is the timezone in which the majority of the novel is set. It was the tumultuous time at the end of British rule of India, when the country was divided between Gandhi’s and Bose’s ideology. At that time everyone knew that India needed to get independence but the question was which ideology was better. In hindsight we all can say that Gandhi’s ideology had a better chance of succeeding but the soldiers in Indian National Army did believe ferociously in their ideology as much as Gandhians did in theirs. It is this ideological difference that Amitav has tried to discuss through characters of his novel rather than through public figures like Gandhi and Bose, and so we are able to see those ideological differences through the eye of common man and hence can have more sympathies with one side or another.

It’s a bit coincidental that both the novels that I have read of Amitav, had lead me to encounter with either the principal character of the novel or with the scenario presented. In Hungry Tide, as I mentioned in my older post, I was able to see dolphins while reading the book on the ferry and the story in that novel revolved around dolphins in the river Ganges. In The Glass Palace, the story starts in Burma and talks a lot about the political upheaval in Burma during and after the British Raj and how the country that was once called, “The Golden Bird” is now going towards obscurity because of questionable policies of the then British regime. This part of the story is coincidental because Burma is again in news for all the wrong reasons. Recently, the military regime of Burma decided to raise prices of fuel and the conflict split into streets with at least 88 student protesters missing since the conflict began last week. The novel has described the political situations of Burma in a very engaging way through different time zones and history.

The novel ended with few questions unanswered but that is the best way to end some books where the reader is made to think of his/her own ending based on how he/she interprets the novel. For me personally, it made me to think of all the events that took place preceding to the ending and then make up my own ending in my mind that answers my questions not anyone else’s. The Glass Palace was a fascinating read but if I need to be picky then there were few coincidental moments in the book but then again they could be forgiven in the spirit of fiction.

I read my novels very slowly, reading only 30-40 pages a day, maybe because I didn’t started reading them till last few years but over time I have realized that for me that’s the way to read good fiction because the characters in the novel become a daily part of my life. I like exploring them day by day, chapter by chapter, and layer by layer, till the entire layers end up to the real seed of the book which may one day give life to another fruit. The Glass Palace was one such book that revealed itself layer by layer till its culmination that didn’t really end the novel but provided the seed for another one, maybe not for me but for someone who is ready to nurture it.

Here’s ending with a direct quote from The Glass Palace that defined a major conflict in the book:

“Arjun saw that it was a pamphlet, written in Hindustani and printed in both Devanagari and Arabic script. It was an appeal directed to the Indian soldiers, signed by one Amreek Singh of the Indian Independence League. The text began: Brothers, ask yourselves what you are fighting for and why you are here: do you really wish to sacrifice your lives for an Empire that has kept your country in slavery for two hundred years?”

Kisse Rakhi aur Sania ke...

2007-08-30T23:10:00.000-07:00

What is this post **not** about?

1. Its not about the kiss betweek Rakhi and Sania ***shudder***
2. Its not about the festival of raksha bandhan and its significance.
3. Its not about celebrating rakhsha bandhan with Sania ***shudder square***

What is this post about?

1. Its about rakhsha bandhan but not as you would think
2. Its about Sania Mirza but has nothing to do with rakhi.
3. Its about anything but Rakhi Sawant.

Here it goes...

Part 1 - Kissa Rakhi ka...

Day before yesterday was the festival of Raksha Bandhan. So, I decided that I will buy some mithai for that day but like always forgot. The night before rakhi, I came home and my brother was showing me something on our dining table. It was a mithai ka dabba that came from India, send by my Didi. I was like, "Wow, isee kehte hain behen ka pyar. She knew that we will forget to bring some mithai and she send it along with rakhi". Anyways, we called her, talked and everything. Now, the mithai ak dabba with rakhi came from a service called tajonline.com. We were very impressed as the mithai was awesome (kaju ki barfi) and delivery was on time.

The pack only had one rakhi though with few rice and red tilak in a packet. Me and my brother decided that we will wear it one by one, instead of only one wearing it that day (as we were expecting more rakhis in a day or two). So the next day, brother tied me rakhi and we ate mithai and then I tied the same rakhi on his wrist back. (My actual rakhi kissa has nothing to do with the above story but I was just setting everything up)

Mithai with rakhri from tajonline.com

Next day, I came back from work and bhai again pointed me to the dining table and guess what? Another mithai ka dabba and exactly the same as before but this one didn't had any name and this one too came from tajonline.com but from Mumbai. We thought, maybe Didi send us two because it had only one rakhi. Didi was online and we asked her if she did and she said, "No, I just send one mithai ka dabba".

The question is, "who is this mystery sister of ours?". Me and my brother laughed about it, that maybe Mom-Dad lost our sister in kumbh ke mele and maybe she found us by searching online or through my blog. Although later, we told our Didi to check if tajonline folks send the second one by mistake and charged her credit card. If it was a mistake then only problem is that it has increased our expectation because we will be now checking everyday to see, if we got a new mithai ka dabba. I think we should sue them for emotional distress of not getting mithai everyday (Mr tajonline.com, if you are reading this post please atleast send us complimentary mithai for all the publicity we are doing here)

Part 2 - Kissa Sania ka...

Today in the morning, I opened my tv while getting ready for work and to check if any of the US Open matches are going and guess who was playing? Ok, its like the lamest guess, but it was "her" (ab main apne muhn se unka naam kaise loon, chalo le leta hoon to avoid confusion, Sania Mirza). I think, I am in love again. She was looking super-hot in pink dress (and nose ring which is the sexiest thing about her) and as my brother remarked, she was looking very slim esp. since the time we last saw her playing. Infact, our good friend here saw her in Stanford a month back and said that she looks better in person than in pictures...oh la la.

Sania playing the running forehand August 31, 2007 (US Open)

The cherry on the cake was when she won that match albiet nervourslesy. Sania is really doing great with her ranking almost 25ish and can break into top 20 if she does well here. I think she should be the Idol for most Indians esp. girls rather than Malaika Sherawat (as was chosen by CNN-IBN poll). It just shows that hard work, talent and dedication can take you places (and good looks like Sania never hurts). Unfortunately, Malaika can say the same thing about herself but in a totally different context (hardwark, talent and dedication in dropping clothes that is).

My point is, Sania Rocks!! Here's wishing her all the best in future...

Kisse khatam ho gaye yaar, jaake apna apna kaam karo, ab kya mere se Ramayan sunoge...

P.S: Ok, am bad at remembering such things (typical guy) but Happy Birthday to the most wonderful blogger and person... Juneli (and thanks Aindrila for reminding me)

Stench of poverty...

2007-08-23T22:59:00.000-07:00

As I boarded subway (we call it LRT) back to home tonight and took my seat on the corner seat, an unfamiliar sight caught my attention. Six African Muslim women were sitting in the front row in their burqas. The sight would not have been odd, if it was some other part of the world but here in Canada, it raises a few eyebrows. As the subway was crossing the North Saskatewan river, my mind crossed seven seas and seven years back in time.

It was my last year in degree and me and my friends were returning back from Delhi to our hostel in Bidar (Karnataka). Usually, we would take luxury bus from Hyderabad, which would take 2.5 hours to reach Bidar but this one time we missed the bus as our train from Delhi got delayed. Our only choice was to take a local train that used to take 6-7 hours for the same route. We boarded the train late at night for an overnight journey. The train didn't had any booking left, so we had to buy general tickets. As soon as we boarded the train, we knew that this won't be a regular train journey.

The light inside the train compartment was flickering and was so dim that one wouldn't even realize it was there unless you noticed the flickering. The mood inside the compartment was even dimmer. It was the train of poverty. I had never seen so poor people before, maybe didn't even knew that such poverty existed in a country whose economy was booming or as our government was calling it, "India is Shining". 90% of the train was filled with poor Muslim families from Bidar and surrounding areas, returning from Hyderabad. One could see a sea of black burqas, which was making the dim room even dimmer. The look on the faces of the people could have depressed even the most happy soul.

The train would stop at the smallest of stations, which were never more than a shed with small kids selling water and tea like in the movie Swades. The stench of poverty in the train compartment would force us to come out to these small stations to get some fresh air but the women in those burqas would keep sitting inside tending to their crying babies while their men would go out to get some water/chai to drink. To me that train itself looked like a burqa of poverty that many people are never able to get out of. They can only see outside with their piercing eyes and only imagine what life would be without one.

We were relieved when we reached Bidar, our destination, but it seemed we left the train with its poverty and the people behind. We never talked about that train journey except that we would never take another one again.

I am not sure why but after seven years that same train journey came in front of my eyes tonight, as I saw those women. I think even though we may ignore certain images in our mind, they remain somewhere at the back of our head and some random images, like today it was the burqas and the train journey, may bring it back even though you tried your best to forget that stench of poverty.

The 'other' country...

2007-08-14T17:55:00.000-07:00

As the 60th Independence Day dawns in one country, its neighbor sleeps to another one. Its been sixty years and still both the countries are trying to live together, forgetting thousands years of living together as one region without borders. As I watch special episodes on India and Pakistan on BBC, it never fails to amaze me how a country that separated the region into two countries is trying to reflect if the decisions made by them more than 60 years back, had a happy ending afterall. Lord Mountbatten had summed up his analysis of partition, when he said few years later, "I fucked up!!"

India and Pakistan before/after partition (courtesy: BBC)

You can take people out of a region but you cannot take region out of people. For my family, we are still from Pakistan part of Punjab. Even today, when someone asks me where is your background from (most people generally assume I am from Punjab), I say, "Pindi and Sargoda", refering to Rawalpindi and Sargoda region of Pakistan. Even though my Mom was born in India, her each and every attribute is very Pindish and my Dad can't be more Sargodaite.

An Abstract Art depicting India-Pakistan partition

For my grandparents, it was as if they never left Pakistan. All my Nanajis stories revolved in the gaalis of his pind in Pindi. It was there he was born, got married, had most of his kids, built and run his corner shop and made most of his memories. I believe in my heart, he would have loved to spend last days of his life back in the courtyard of his dusty pind. On the other hand my Dadaji was a loyal British soldier, who moved from Sargoda to Lahore to Bannu, where my Dad was born. His stories revolved around his army life as a British soldier with traces of Pakistan in each one of them. I think he mostly missed the diary of urdu poetry he wrote and forgot to pick it up while leaving for India.

My stories about my grandparents hardly includes my Nanijee and Dadijee but I never saw my Nanijee as she passed away before I was born and my Dadijee had a paralysis stroke when I was a very young, so never heard words from her. Although, I have no doubt both of them would have preferred to cook in the sanjha chulhas of their pinds, that still burns without them...

As both the countries celebrate their Independence Day, please spare a thought for those whose heart lies in the 'other' country...

Happy Independence Day India-Pakistan !!

Jagriti Yatra - A Journey of Awakening...

2007-08-03T19:15:00.000-07:00

It is literally the lifeline of India. It connects the country from Kashmir in north to Kerela in south to Assam in east to Gujarat in west. Indian Railways, a microcosm of India, where people from all over India travel together to reach their destination. Its amazing how Indian trains covers every aspect of Indian life, from large families traveling together for a marriage, to an executive going to his conference, to students from smaller towns going to big cities to give their entrance exams, to army jawans going to their posts away from their family, to a villager going to a big city to find a suitable match for his daughter, to a newly married couple going on their honeymoon, to an elderly couple going to take their flight to goto Haj...

After 60 years of Independence, India - the country, represents an Indian train journey, taking along people from every aspect of life, to their destination. The Indian train maybe running a bit late but its because it wants to carry with itself people from every corner of the country, from every strata of society, from every religion of the world, to its ultimate destination where everyone reaches together, bonded together with the thread of journey itself.

It is this dream that has given birth to Jagitri Yatra - Awakening Entrepreneurship. Its a journey criss-crossing the country to awaken the entrepreneurship among Indian youth, with whom lies the future of the country. Its a bold initiative taken by Indians from around the world to travel around India, to meet India's youth and to find the DNA of the country that makes it so unique. This discovery of India's unique DNA can inspire Indians to find solutions to problems plaguing the country.

Take the first step towards discovering India by supporting the organization and the journey itself that is being organized by my Dear friend Gita along with Indians from around the world.

Come on board, let the journey to discover India begin...

Shambo - What a Bull...

2007-07-27T19:30:00.000-07:00

This is gotta be the most bizarre story to come out in the news lately. A bull by the name of Shambo got infected by TB in Wales. He was supposedly a "sacred" bull of the local Indian community. Govt. of Wales decided to put the bull down as a precaution, as it had slaughtered other bulls with the same disease, in the past. The whole NRI community went up in arms against this decision. They gherofied the complex where the bull was housed so that authorities could not take it away.

Mr. Shambo in all its glory

U Rekha!!! NRIs have an idea...

NRIs come with a typical NRI-mentality idea to solve this issue. Let's send this TB infected bull to India. Wow, why didn't I think of that?? India is already plagued with millions of diseases, what difference will one TB-infected bull make. And, even if the bull ends up infecting other bulls (who knows it may be sacredly very gay) then, kya farak padtha hain yaar, India main toh sab chalta hain.

Rekha ko maine aise dekha...

I have a better idea. How about we send those NRIs to India to live with the bull? I am sure they won't mind that and will come back running. Indians are already plagued with millions of people with such over-hyper religious mentality, what difference will one TB-infected-bull-with-NRIs-in-tow make. And, even if the bull ends up infecting these NRIs (who knows bull may have a bad taste) then, kya farak padhta hain yaar, India main toh sab chalta hain.

Oh what a BS!!

Mr. Shambo was finally laid to rest today, when it was put in a grave. Unfortunately, the grave was owned by another NRI (As one Gujju bhai famously said "If death is inevitable then there is money to be made in that too"), who could only say, "Bull Sit, Bull Sit..."

Disclaimer: This post is also plagued by a disease called TS...err...Terrible Sarcasm.

Adventures of Harry Puttar...

2007-07-21T10:58:00.000-07:00

In a land far far away...errrrr...I mean Ludhiana, there was a secretive non-wizard-believing world which for many years had made people laugh. It was in this world there lived a boy named, Harry Puttar. This is a story of him and his Mom Jaswinder, his dad Gurpal, his masi Sukhwinder, his sister Baljit (or Billo as she was known among galli ke ladke) and his dog Hartej (also known as Harry in his non-wizard-believing-dog-world).

Jaswinder Puttar

Harry Puttar (the boy not the dog) had a split personality that switched between a skateboard wielding dude to a bhangra dud.

It was only when he once combined these two persona and tried to do bhangra while skateboarding, did he got a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead (which cannot be seen in his pictures because of his turban or patka). It was then that his parents came to know about his split personality (with a bit of irony) and decided to send him to a residence which according to them would help Harry choose a better of the two personalities. The school was called....ummmm...ofcourse, Guru Harkrishan Public School (or Ghapcho as non-Ghapchoites call it) in Dilli.

Gurpal Puttar

The curriculum in the school among other things included ladki-taadna (eyeing girls, for non-Delhites). The idea was simple, guys from the school will sit near the canteen and look at girls. If one guy likes a girl he sees, he will raise the hand and tell other guys that she is their "bhabhi" (or sis in law). Other guys will now not be allowed to pass comments on that girl and always refer to her as their bhabhi. In this manner all the girls would be somebody's bhabhi.

Baljit Puttar (urf Billo urf someone's bhabhi...but Harry doesn't know about it)

It is in this world that Harry Puttar will grow where he would learn that it is okay to make fun of oneself but its not okay when the whole community is stereotyped as someone that could be made fun of. He would learn that discipline, courage and hard work are reasons why people in his non-wizard-believing world has been so successful all over (even though he may have learned that by talking to the girl he randomly told everyone is their bhabhi).

But one thing he will never understand is that why is there is big scar on Hartej's pointy tail.

Hartej Pootar

Coming Up Soon: Adventures of Hartej Pootar

Sukhwinder Masi (she has no role in this adventure but no punju home is complete without a masi, so she is here on kahaani ke demand)

Images courtesy: Sunny - The Proud Sikh

Gandhigiri - US Style

2007-07-14T12:12:00.000-07:00

Update: As reported by Colors, Gandhigiri might have just worked. The article in the Businessweek.com (Dated: July 17, 2007) states, "After two weeks of protests by high-skilled immigrants over a broken promise to expedite the processing of green cards, the White House has approached immigration advocacy groups to work out a compromise. While the talks are ongoing and could still break down, the government is likely to reverse a July 2 decision to refuse more permanent residency applications, and will likely begin accepting them in the next few days."

_____________________________________________________________

It's seems ironic that Indians based in US are doing Gandhigiri to get immigration to US, while "original" Gandhigiri was done by "the man" to get rid of illegal immigrants in India (a.k.a Britishers). Ah, that dreaded "greencard", which can bring greens a plenty (and no am not talking about global warming). I call it dreaded because just the name can bring fear among thousands of Indians living in a limbo in a country that fail to call them its own. They can't go home after spending so much time and effort in a country that gives them everything except the right to live without fear of getting kicked out.

Indians have been flocking American shores for more than a century. They have contributed to the country more than their "own". US on their part have made sure they get the best from the country but have been reluctant in accepting them whole-heartedly. As long as those Indians are useful to them, they are happy but as soon as they start asking for rights, like the right to live without fear, they are shown the door.

This American hypocrisy came to light recently when they first gave hope to thousands of Indians by promising to fasten the green-card application procedure by moving them into final phase of immigration process and gave them a deadline to submit the applications by July 2. But just as the deadline passed away, the promise was retracted. This is the worst thing anyone can do by giving someone hope and then snatching it back like it never existed in the first place.

Indians have protested for the first time in "Gandhigiri" style by sending flowers to director of U.S. Citizenship & Immigration Services. Will it work again? Who knows but for now the department is sticking to its decision. Although, US policy is baffling because it is allowing millions of illegal aliens (yes that's what US Govt. calls illegals, talk about degradation of humans) from Mexico to get immigration but is reluctant to give the same right to people who are making real difference in the country. I hope better sense will prevail and Gandhigiri will be again successful in freeing his countrymen from the fear, albeit for a different reason altogether.

...and so they did

2007-07-09T17:38:00.000-07:00

Its been almost two and a half months since I wrote something. It took me this long to get settled in a new city, new life and figure out few priorities of my life. Today, as I look out of my rain dripped window, things couldn't look more clear in my life. The long journey away from home looks worth it, even though I am still longing for my dilli-ke-baarish.

Victoria was my home for six years, more time than any other city, I have lived so far. It felt like home but it was time to move on. Infact, since past 2 years I was feeling the urge to get out of the island. Maybe, because of my Army background this urge will remain with me and Thank God for that. The move was tiresome to say the least with all the packing, shipping and traveling. But who's complaining ;-)

At first, I didn't liked Edmonton at all. It had bad roads, bad weather, but it had my brother which made everything look worth-it at the end of the day. We both may be very different in some respects but we get along like best friends, esp. when our parents are not around (when they are around, we fight like crazy). The best thing about us is that we enjoy same type of movies, watch same type of sports and love to eat same kind of food (except I do all the "good" cooking...lol).

First week was pretty relaxing and we took our time to settle into our new apartment, which btw rocks and is an ultimate bachelor's pad to chill out. I met his friends, we went to play tennis every evening, watched movies together, went to Gurudware every Sunday and played poker on weekends with friends.

Then, started my journey of finding a job in this new city. I must have applied for atleast 200+ jobs and got interview calls from about 10% of those (which is not bad considering its not easy to get even an interview out here). I gave one interview after another, getting better with every one of them, making mistakes on the way and correcting them. It was an experience in itself but totally worth it because it landed me the job eventually, in a company, that I see myself growing into.

Today, when my job is confirmed for long-term, I feel relieved, relieved enough to have the urge to write again. The tension of looking for job and settling into a new place was too much for me to write anything. I am looking forward to my future (except the winter which can go down to minus 40...brrrrrr).

This blogspace in the past has given me a lot and I am ready to give my tiny bits to it in my present and future.

Warning: Be afraid, be very afraid...I am back ;-)

Let the 'miles' roll...

2007-04-22T23:33:00.000-07:00

Every good things must come to an end. This is the end of my Victorian era. Victoria, the city where I have spend more time than any other city in the world, the city which is regarded as the most beautiful in North America, the city that made me the person I am today, the city where I started blogging and made friends for life or the city of newly weds or nearly deads (as the brochures for the city says). This city has given me too much to be described in words. Its time to move on but Victoria will remain in my heart forever. I will end my last blog from this city with some of my most memorable memories...

This is where Canada starts...

And this is how you reach the beautiful Vancouver Islands. Ironically, Vancouver is not part of Vancouver Islands, which really confused me the first time I came here.

The Parliament Building of Victoria, one of the most beautiful buildings that define the city.

The Empress, this is where the Queen of England stays whenever she visits Victoria. Seeing her convoy past by me was one of the highlights of my stay.

One of the most beautiful setting for the weekly Sunday market in summer. I have spend almost my every Sunday of numerous summers in these bylanes...

My favorite pub, The Irish Pub, right besides the Sunday market...err....this was not the only reason for me visiting the market every Sunday :P

And then there were the beautiful girls of Victoria in the market...err...this was also not the second to only reason for me going to the market :P

I used to bike to this beautiful "Swan lake" and feed the ducks, when I first moved to the city...

The Engineering Buildings of University of Victoria, where I spend last 5 years of my life working on my second degree which will define my future life...

One of my favourite shot taken from sixth floor of the Engineering building.

This year the theme of the city is my favorite flowers, tulips, with purple being my favourite ones among all...

The Sikh Temple of Victoria, the only place where I would feel at-home and at-peace...

Picture perfect sunset at the "Breakwater". Ah, I will miss you Victoria (and by that I mean the city as well **wink**)

Note: I will be away for a while, till I settle down in a new city, new job, new life, but you all will see me around in your spaces with my comments on anything and everything. So long...

South Asian Youth 2007

2007-04-18T20:18:00.000-07:00

Few weeks back, I had emailed some of my friends a survey that was featured in India Today International (Indian Youth 2007, February 19, 2007). The survey was about Indian Youth and I got a decent response back but the response came not only from Indians all over the world but from Pakistan and Nepal. So, I changed it to South Asian Youth 2007 because even though we are separated by borders, we all have similar lives, similar aspirations and similar beliefs (as was very clear from the survey). I have not participated in the survey, so will give some of my analysis as we go along. In the analysis, I will also give some tidbits from the India Today results, if there are some major surprises.

There are few differences in the methodology. Firstly, the survey was taken by email, and so it will be correct to assume that everyone uses Internet regularly. Secondly, the India Today article was done in person, while this one as mentioned above was done online. Thirdly, it was not by choice but the demographics of the people who responded are 100% females (yohooo !!) but that is the fault of my blog or maybe its true that fairer sex is indeed the better and smarter one (do I get more brownie points for this...lol). Actually, the mail was sent to guys too but no guy responded. Fourthly, I am only publishing results that someone responded rather than all the choices that were given.

My analysis is in italics

Here are the results...

1. How do you spend your typical weekend?

a. Hanging out with friends - 25%
b. At home/with parents - 25%
c. Others (relaxing, cleaning) - 25%
d. Shopping - 12.5%
e. All of the above - 12.5%

Surprisingly, watching movies is missing from the list which in India Today's survey got 32% votes.

2. For what purposes do you access the Internet?

a. Email, Chat, News, Info, Search, Connect with relatives, Financial transaction, Social Networking - 50%
b. Email, connect with relatives, social networking only - 37.5%
c. Social networking - 12.5%

No surprises here.

3. Which of the following do you regularly watch on TV?

a. Music channels - 37.5%
b. News channels - 25%
c. Movie channels - 12.5%
d. Infotainment - 12.5%
e. Shows - 12.5%

51% of Indian Youths according to India Today watch News Channels more than any other channel on TV.

4. Which of the following do you own?

a. Cellphone, Music system, PC/laptop, Credit card, Car - 25%
b. Cellphone only - 25%
c. Cellphone, Music system, PC/laptop only - 25%
d. None of the above - 12.5%
e. PC/Laptop only - 12.5%

70% of Indian Youth owns a cellphone which is pretty consistent with results here.

5. For which of the following are you willing to take loan personally?

a. Buying a house - 50%
b. Buying a house, buying a car, buying clothes, jewelery, financing a vacation - 25%
c. None of the above - 25%

Indians are still a bit conservative when it comes to taking a loan for households items, not that its a bad thing. It shows that we like to save and spend wisely.

6. Which of these places, if any, do you plan to visit in near future?

a. Abroad - 37.5%
b. Wildlife sanctuaries - 25%
c. Places of adventure sports - 12.5%
d. Hill station - 12.5%
e. Historical place - 12.5%

If you had asked our parent's generation, atleast 90% of them would have said hill station because there was not much choice. Also, the BPO industry is giving more and more Indians chance to travel abroad and so the No. 1 choice is not surprising. Surprisingly, 30% Indian Youth still prefer hill stations.

7. Are love marriages more successful than arranged marriages?

a. No - 50%
b. Depends - 25%
c. Yes - 25%

71% of Indian Youth said Yes but the results here is rather surprising. Are bloggers more inclined towards arranged marriage?

8. How would you want to live after marriage, with in-laws or without?

a. With in-laws - 62.5%
b. Without in-laws - 12.5%
c. Kabhi khushi kabhi gham - 12.5% (lol, this was an answer too)
d. Have no choice - 12.5%

This result will surprise most non-south Asians. 84% Indian youth still prefer living with their in-laws (although I am suspecting this question was mainly asked to girls because most guys will prefer otherwise, which makes you wonder). Some traditions are here to stay :)

9. What is your idea of romance?

a. Candle light dinner - 25%
b. A walk hand in hand on the beach - 25%
c. Candle light dinner with a poem - 12.5%
d. A poem - 12.5%
e. Sending a sms or card - 12.5%
f. Others - 12.5%

29% Indian Youth thinks only a phone call is romantic enough. Its seems the bloggers are a bit more choosy.

10. Do you think both males and females are given equal opportunity in your house?

a. Yes - 100%

Now that's a good result.

11. What is your opinion on inter-caste and inter-religion marriage?

a. Are acceptable - 100%

I wish it was the same result for our previous generation.

12. To what extent do you agree or disagree that it is better to get divorced than to live an unhappy marriage?

a. Strongly agree - 50%
b. Somewhat agree - 50%

No wonder divorce rates in India are getting higher although it doesn't mean that its a bad thing. Infact, in Western society increase in divorce rate means that women are getting more rights and independence.

13. Given a choice, would you work in India or abroad?

a. South Asia - 87.5%
b. Abroad - 12.5%

Go Asia Go!!

14. Which is the best career choice among the following?

a. Entrepreneurship - 25%
b. Private sector service - 25%
c. Academics - 25%
d. Private sector or Academics - 25%

Surprisingly, none of the bloggers choose Government service which is choice of 34% Indian Youths.

15. Do you think there should be uniform civil code for all religions?

a. Yes - 87.5%
b. No - 12.5%

No surprises here.

16. Do you think it's correct to bring down illegally constructed places of worship?

a. Yes - 50%
b. No - 37.5%
c. Depends - 12.5%

Indian Youth do not favor demolishing places of worship over the other.

17. Should religious processions be banned?

a. No - 50%
b. Yes - 37.5%
c. Should have specific timings for the same - 12.5%

A u-turn by bloggers on a slightly different issue than previous question.

18. Would you take into account the religion of a person when you consider giving him tenancy rights?

a. No - 75%
b. Yes - 12.5%
c. Maybe - 12.5%

A blogger gave a very interesting reason for saying Yes, when she wrote that it is to ensure that the tenant won't cook non-veg in the house. I think that's a major consideration for majority of Indians which are still vegetarians.

19. Would you change you religion to marry the person you love?

a. No - 100%

No surprises here, although 27% of Indian youth will change their religion for love.

20. How often do you visit a place of worship?

a. Once a week - 50%
b. Once in 2-3 months - 37.5%
c. Rarely - 12.5%

Its good to see religion still having a very prominent place among South Asian youths.

21. Should there be reservations for OBCs in educational institutions?

a. No - 75%
b. Yes - 12.5%
c. Don't know what is OBC - 12.5%

I didn't doubt bloggers having a fierce opposition to reservations after reading blogs on the issue everywhere last year. 51% of Indian Youths favor reservations on the other hand.

22. How often do you base your decisions on the experiences of your peer group?

a. Sometimes - 50%
b. Occasionally - 37.5%
c. No choice on the question - 12.5%

Don't we all to a certain extent.

23. If you become Prime Minister/President, which task would you take up first?

a. Fire corrupt ministers - 62.5%
b. Build schools in villages - 12.5%
c. Strengthen the infrastructure -12.5%
d. Unbiased handling of religious fundamentalists - 12.5%

Corrupt Ministers seems to be on everyone's hit list esp. after Rang De Basanti...lol

24. Which of these applies to your mother tounge?

a. I can read, write and speak - 75%
b. I can speak it - 25%

No surprises there.

25. Do you think pub culture is in line with Indian values?

a. No - 75%
b. Yes - 25%

One blogger rightly said that if our culture is strong enough then pub culture won't affect it.

26. Do you think it is alright to smoke and drink with parents?

a. No - 75%
b. Yes - 25%

Bloggers seem more liberal than Indian Youth in general on this issue.

27. Do you think it is alright for women to smoke?

a. No - 62.5%
b. Yes - 37.5%

Some girls compared smoking to equal rights for girls on this issue even though smoking maybe harmful.

28. Which would you say is your Indian youth icon?

a. Sachin Tendulkar - 12.5%
b. Sania Mirza - 12.5%
c. Shah Rukh Khan - 12.5%
d. Kiran Majumdar Shaw - 12.5%
e. Mahatma Gandhi - 12.5%
f. Mother Teresa - 12.5%
g. Amitabh Bachchan - 12.5%
h. None - 12.5%

No clear winner here though Indian Youth preferred Sachin by 14.5% although I am guessing that was because the survey was done before the World Cup.

29. Money is very important source of happiness. Do you...

a. Somewhat disagree - 37.5%
b. Strongly agree - 25%
c. Somewhat agree - 12.5%
d. Neither agree not disagree - 12.5%

45% of Indian Youth thinks that Money is the very important source of happiness.

30. Would you stay with the person you love before marriage?

a. No - 75%
b. Yes - 25%

Indians are still conservative on this issue but I am sure "Yes" percentage has increased from our parent's generation.

So, this was the survey. Some results are not surprising, while others are debatable. The good thing is that South Asia is in hands of youth that is using all the modern amenities but are still rooted in tradition. We are the generation that will make the future and so these results matter. All I know is that South Asia's future is in good hands...Amen to that thought.

Sights n Sounds of Vaisakhi...

2007-04-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Happy Vaisakhi Everyone!!

Vaisakhi is the Punjabi new year and the day khalsa (the pure sikh) was founded by the last Guru of Sikhs, Guru Gobind Singh jee. In a way, the religion of Sikhism was formalized into a separate religion on this day. On this auspicious day, I have completed my second degree. Here are some sights n sounds of the beautiful festival of Vaisakhi from around the world...

Lights on the eve of Vaisakhi in the Golden Temple, Amritsar, Punjab

The Panjh Pyare (Five Faithfuls) during the Vaisakhi Parade through streets of Southall, UK

Vaisakhi 2007 celebrations at Gurudwara Panja Sahib, Hasan Abdal, Rawalpindi, Pakistan

Let the bhangara and giddha begin...

Biker club of Sikhs during the Vaisakhi 2007 parade through the streets of Vancouver

Prosperity to everyone on the first day of harvest

Beat Of India...

2007-04-01T20:42:00.000-07:00

India is a country of folk songs and it is one tradition that is dying everyday. Its dying because it is not something that is recorded but passed from generation to generation and it is dying with every generation. It is to keep this tradition alive and give them chance, a group of 5 people started a website, Beat of India. They went to deep corners of Indian villages, recorded their folk songs and have put them on this site for people to listen the samples and buy it as individual songs or an album. A percentage of revenue from this is given back to the artist because the site hasn't been profitable yet. There are some wonderful videos of artist themselves singing in their natural setting.

The CEO of the company is Shefali Bhushan. She and her group have traveled from interiors of Kutch to Punjab and recorded these songs in their natural settings. She has also made short documentaries on her journeys that takes one through these villages and show these artist in their backyard singing love songs, songs about the world around them, songs about the color of their lives, songs that make India unique...

The site is giving these folk artists a chance to be heard and its giving us a chance to listen and save our tradition. The least we bloggers can do is spread the word. Let's play the Beat of India...

____________

Sniff sniff... a new technology post up @ Creative Minds...

Music ho toh aisa...

2007-03-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

What season is this? Yes, its the tag season. I have like a million tags to do, so am starting with the earliest one. I was tagged last year by faith but never got the chance to do it for one reason or another until I forgot about it completely, only to be reminded recently (wow am already rhyming-shyming). Also, this is a music tag and so always fun to do. Let the drum rolls begin...

Your favorite lyricist and the lyrics you remember the most...

Gulzar Saab. Always was and always will be. The depth yet simplicity of his poetry is something to be felt not listened...

"Mera kuch saaman tumhare pass padha hain,
o saawan ke kuch bhege bhege din rakhe hain,
aur mere ek khath main lipti raat padhe hain,
woh raat bhula do, mera woh saaman lauta do,
mera kuch saaman, tumhare paas padha hain..."

(Movie: Ijazzat)

Your favorite song on friendship...

The first and last song that comes to my mind on friendship is from my favorite movie of all time...

"Yeh dosti, hum nahin todenge,
todenge dum magar, tera saath na chodenge,

o tere jeet mere jeet, tere haar mere haar,
sun le mere ayar,

tera gham mera gham, mere jaan tere jaan,
aisa apna pyar,

jaan pe bhi khelenge, tere liye le lenge,
sabse dushmani..."

(Movie: Sholay)

Best song potraying life's emotion (zindgai se bhara hua, zindagi ke baare main...)

Kishore Da was my favorite male playback singer esp. his sad songs but this song tries to unravel the mystery of life's journey...

"Zindagi ka safar, hain yeh kaisa safar,
koi samjha nahin, koi jaana nahin,

hain yeh kaise dagar, chalte hain sab magar,
koi samjha nahin, koi jaana nahin..."

(Movie: Safar)

Which song are you humming today?

He is my all-time favorite singer and the song on my lips is...

"Hothon se choo lo tum, mera geet amar kar do,
ban jao meet mere, mere preet amar kar do,

na umr ke seema ho, na janam ka ho bandhan,
jisse pyar karein koi, woh dekhe keval mann,

nayee reet chala kar tum, yeh reet amar kardo,

hothon se choo lo tum, mera geet amar kardo,

aakash ka soonapann, mere tanha mann main,
paayal chankati tum, aa jao jeewan main,

saasein de kar apne, sangeet amar kardo, mera geet amar kardo..."

(Movie: Prem Geet)

One song which brings tears to your eyes...

I remember watching this movie as a kid and choking up on this song...

"Jeena yahan, marna yahan, iske seeva jaana kahan,
jab humko awaaz do, hum hain wahin, hum thee jahan,

apne yahin dono jahaan, iske seeva jaana kahan,

yeh mera geet, jeevan sangeet, kal bhi koi dohrayege,
jag ko hasane, behrupiya, roop badal phir aayega,

swarg yahin, narak yahan, iske seeva jaana kahan..."

(Movie: Mera Naam Joker)

A song which gives you hope, a reason to try again and again, a reason to say that life is beautiful...

One of my favorite comedies had also one of my favorite songs...

"Aanewaala pal, jaane waala hain,
ho sake toh isme, zindagi beeta do, pal jo yeh jaane wala hain...ho ho..

ek baar yun mili, maasom se kali,
ho khilte huee kahaa, pushpaash main chali,

dekha toh yahin hain, dhoondha toh nahin hain,
pal jo yeh jaane waala hain...ho ho..."

(Movie: Golmaal)

When you want to be with yourself, silent and content but with music, which song would that be?

My favorite Chitra Singh's number that I listen during silent nights...

"Tu nahin toh zindagi main aur kya reh jaaega,
door tak tanhaiyon ka, door tak tanhaiyon ka silsila reh jaaega,

dard ke saare tahi, aur saare guzrae khak se,
sab dhuan ho jayenge, ek fakeya reh jayega,

tu nahin toh zindagi main aur kya reh jayega..."

(Movie: Arth)

If you have to express love for someone with a song which would that be...

It doesn't get soulful than this...

"Tere bin main yun kaise jeeya, kaise jeeya tere bin,
lekar yaadein tere, raatein mere kaati,

mujhse baatein tere, karte hain chandani,
tanha hain tujh bin raatein mere, din mere dinke jaise nahin,

tanha badan tanha rooh, namm mere aankhen rahein,
aaja mere ab roob-o-roo, jeena nahin bin tere..."

(Movie: Bas ek pal)

Five songs which you listen to the most...

1. My favorite song about fursat...

"Dil dhondta hain phir wohi fursat ke raat din,
baithe rahein tasoovere, jaana keeye huee,

jaadon ke narm dhoop aur aangan main leet ke,
aankhon pe kheech ke, aanchal ke saaye ko,

aaundhen padhe kabhi, karvat leeye huee..."

2. A beautiful love song...

"Maine tere liye he saat rang ke sapne chunne, sapne surele sapne,
kuch haste, kuch gham ke, tere aankhon ke saaye churaaye rasele yaadon ne,

chotein baatein, choti choti baton ke hain yaadein bade,
bhule nahin beete huee ek choti ghade,
janam janam se aankhen beechaye in raahon pe..."

(Movie: Anand)

3. From my favorite album, Aandhi...

"Tum aa gayee ho, noor aa gaya hain,
nahin toh charagon se lau jaa rahein thee,

jeene ke tumse wajah mil gayee hain,
badee bewajah zindagi jaa rahein thee.."

(Movie: Aandhi)

4. My favorite song when I first moved to Canada...

"Ek akela iss shaher main, raat main aur dopahar main,
aabodana dhoondta hain, aashiana dhoondta hain,

din khali khali bartan hain, aur raat hain jaise andhaa dhuan,
inn sune aankhon main, aanson ke jagah aata hain dhuan,
jene ke wajah toh koi nahin, marne ka bahana dhondhta hain..."

(Movie: Gharaonda)

5. I listen to this song almost everyday because it reminds me of Kashmir...

"lehrati huee rahein, khole huee hain baahein,
palkon pe ghehre halke, yeh reshme duhalke,
yeh hum aa gayee hain kahan,

woh dekho zara parbaton pe ghatayein, hamari daastan hoole se sunayee,
suno toh zara, yeh phoolon ke vaadi, hamare hee koi kahani hai sunate,

sapno ke iss nazar main, raahon ke reh-guzar main,
yeh hum aa gayee hain kahan..."

(Movie: Veer Zaraa)

A song for the person who tagged you...

This is for you faith...

"Bholi se surat, aankhon main masti, aaye hayee,
aree bholi se surat, aankhon main masti, door khade sharmaye, aaye hayee,

ek jhalak dekhlayee kabhi, kabhi aanchal main chup jayein, aaye hayee,
mere nazar se tum dekho toh yaar nazar woh aayein,

hmmmmm, ladki nahin hain woh jaadu hain aur kaha kya jayein,
raat ko mere khwab main aayein woh zulf bikhrayee,
aankh khuli toh dil chaha phir neend mujhe aa jayein,
bin dekhe yeh haal hua, dekhun toh kya ho jayein..."

I won't tag anyone but this tag is interesting enough for anyone to give it a shot. Let the music begin...

On my way back...

2007-03-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

...it was raining, like it always does. I ran to catch my 3 pm ferry but missed it by a whisker (read 6 minutes). An old punjabi uncle jee, who saw me there and approached me. He must be atleast 90 going by his demeanor.

"Chalo Chaleye", he said.
I was a bit confused by what he just uttered.
"Haanjee", I said very politely.
"Tusi Nanaimo naee chalna", he said.

A young punjabi munda approached from the other side.

"Papajee, aee saade naal nayee nee", he told him

Although, it was a bit bizzare but the old uncle jee reminded me of Dadajee and a smile came across my face.

There was still 2 hours before boarding, and there were few punjabi kids making noise in the waiting area (someone new reading this must be thinking that I am somewhere in Punjab). I picked a quiet corner a bit away from the main lounge and started reading Amitav Ghosh's "The Hungry Tide".

"The dolphins quiet, regular breathing had lulled Piya into a doze from which she was woken by a sound that seemed to come out of a dream..."

The story of Piya and Kanai, set in the hauntingly beautiful Sundarbans, took me to a different world altogether. I was in the small raft when Piya was following Dolphins with Fokir rowing the raft and Tutul pointing to the Dolphin and her calf. I could feel the Dolphins around me hunting for fishes, going through channels as the tides were changing. I was in Morichjhapi when Nirmal had to take refuge in Kusum's dwelling with Horen. I was in Lusibari when Nilima asked Nirmal where he was going and he lied to her for the first time..."

The ferry for Nanaimo was leaving with Uncle jee...

I went back to the departure lounge, waited a few minutes there. A group of girls soccer team was was coming from Vancouver and the girls were very loud for me to concentrate on the book. The ferry started loading a few minutes after and I grabbed a chips packet and took my corner seat near the window. It was still raining outside. The ferry started moving very slowly and I could see a bird sitting on top of the railing area from my rain shattered window.

The weather was lazy enough to put me to sleep. I got up in 15 minutes and decided to go outside for a little stroll to freshen up. It was still raining but not enough to wet one completely. I went to the top floor of the ferry and saw a beautiful small lighthouse as the ferry was passing by it.

The first word that came out of my mouth was "Aah...heaven". The lighthouse was as tiny as the island itself. I found it fascinating that I was passing through these small islands while in my backpack was the book set in small islands of Sundarbans. I tried imagining the setting of the novel with my passage but the sophistication of islands on my way were no comparison to the rawness of Sundarbans.

We passed along the most beautiful house on the next island. An orange colored house located facing the ocean with forest all around the place. It was the most visible house that I came across during the journey that passed through several small islands. It was the kind of dream house, one can only wish for...

Our ferry was leaving a long trail behind and seeing the ferry cut the rough waters is a sight in itself. A big lump of steel cutting cold water and making the way is an impressive sight indeed.

It was beginning to get dark and the lights outside the ferry were coming on.

My eyes were on the water though. A lot of things were going through my mind like the waves moving from one side to another by the passing ferry. I was looking for my next shot when I saw "it". I thought my eyes were playing games with me and this was not possible but then "it" jumped out of the water to confirm to me that "it" was indeed a dolphin. I had heard stories how sometimes dolphins would come beside the ferry and usually they would come in a bunch, so if the captain saw them he would announce and everyone would rush outside. But this dolphin seemed to be lost from its crowd because now my eyes were searching the deep water but I couldn't see anything but the wavy darkness...

The World is Flat...

2007-03-12T20:10:00.001-07:00

Indeed it is. I read Thomas Friedman's "The World is Flat", which is one of the most fascinating books of our century. It is as the cover says, A brief history of the twenty-first century. A century that has just started but one that will shape the world for the future. We all know the forces of flattening because if you are reading this post then you are part of the flat world. Its the reason why you have broadband in your house or the reason why Indians are earning more than ever or the reason why Indians living anywhere in the world are connected to their roots. We have all been either part of these forces or heard about them. Outsourcing, offshoring, blogging, wikipedia, googling and the list goes on. If you are part of any of this then you are living in a flat world. But these are just the dots that we know about, the book does a good job of connecting these dots and painting us a picture, how these are all interconnected. Its one book that every person of the flat world should read to integrate the rest of the unflat world with itself.

I will not review the book but answer two questions that Friedman asked everyone who he came in touch with, Where were you when the world got flat? When did you notice you live in a flat world?

I was on my way to Canada when the world got flat. The world got flat in 2000, when I had just finished my degree and could not find job in my Automobile field and thus applied for Universities in Canada and Germany. I eventually choose Canada but I had 6 months before I could start my degree and so to pass the time, I joined one of the first call centers in Delhi. I was working with a subsidiary of K-Mart, an American retail giant. At that time I didn't knew I was stepping onto a flat world. I left that company and moved to Canada. It was around 2001 when most of the world went flat but it went unnoticed from where I was because I was adjusting to a new country, a new lifestyle, a new University and new friends. Next year also passed in a blur because I was working 8 hours a day, studying and sleeping the rest 16 hours. I didn't had time to notice the world around me.

It was in 2003 I realized that I was living in a flat world. I came across a blog and read how anyone can create their own content and publish it to the rest of the world. I started blogging but remained anonymous. I would mostly write reviews of books and change my blog everytime I wrote a new post. I would get some comments but that was the extent of it, until I wrote about a murder case of an Indian girl in Canada. Suddenly, people from all around the world came and commented and wanted to know what happened and so I started updating the same blog. That blog ended with the case but I had just realized the power of blogging and community. I then wrote another review of the book of short stories, Seventeen Tomatoes and kept updating it and rest as they say is history. I made some amazing group of friends from all over the world and we all blogged on number of issues but I think that was just the beginning. As a blogger I have now matured from just writing everyday happenings of my life for strangers to collaborating with my blog-friends on personal, social, professional and political issues. I sorted out the people I connected with and have made life-long friendships and some beautiful relationships.

Ironically, a shift happened when I left India, suddenly the world realized that India is a place to be. I started hearing a lot about outsourcing and the anger among American public about it. But for me outsourcing is a great opportunity. The NRIs that came before me and worked in traditional jobs in US/Canada/UK had no future back home but for me there is an opportunity to work anywhere in the world including India. Infact, if you had asked me 4 years ago, "Will you go back to India and work?", I would have said, "I prefer not to" but if you ask me the same question today, I will say "I hope to" . And that's what flat world has done. It has given Indians and Chinese opportunity to work from their own country and still earn all the benefits of Western world. Although, I don't think lines for US visas has decreased but it certainly has made it less desperate.

One theory that Friedman has proposed makes lot of sense to me. The theory says that any two countries that share a global supply chain will never go to war against each other. I had already thought about this before reading this book and I think this theory gives a chance to India to improve relations with Pakistan. Currently, all seems well between the two sides but it can destabilize anytime with some random act. I think the only way to prevent future wars is to intermingle the two societies and India could and should take leadership in this. I envision a day when Pakistani students can apply for IITs or any Indian University, a day when Hindi movies are played in every Pakistani theater, a day when Pakistani cricket players can play in Indian clubs like in county cricket, a day when going to Nanaksar (a sikh pilgrimage where Guru Nanak Dev was born) is as easy as going to Amritsar. All this will do is make people realize that we all can gain from each other much more than lose by fighting. I think the current status quo is not very stabilized because even though India has progressed a lot to create world-class companies, Pakistan has not progressed as much because of their political scenario (or non-political scenario). It is in India's favor to have a stabilized and progressive Pakistan that gives hope to its people like India is giving. All this is highlighted in the last chapter of the book where Friedman talks about India and how even though India has the second highest Muslim population in the world, it is the most stabilized nation with most progressive Muslims. This is because India's democracy and secularism gives hope to people and hope is a powerful thing that can make the rest of the unflat world flat.

Life is full of surprises...

2007-03-07T18:16:00.000-08:00

...and surprise it was. I was taking my evening shower (I am always taking shower it seems) and came out to find a small package at my door. It was a bit surprising because I wasn't expecting anything and my birthday is not for atleast 8 months. I opened the door and when I saw the place where it came from, my first words were, "Oh My God!!"

A package that came all the way from the land which is 9000 years old, Nepal. I didn't even had to blink to know who it might be from. She is known by different names/identities but everyone these days know her as Miss Juneli, a writer, a reader, a poetess and above all a dreamer.

The first thing I noticed was the packaging, it was so neatly packaged. It had all sort of goodies, three books (Five Point Someone, One Night @ call center, Delhi city of yoginis), a beautiful postcard, a handwritten letter and in a beautiful Hindi at that, a CD about Nepal, few bookmarks to go with the books and even the unique envelope which is made up of map of Nepal.

Thanks a lot Juneli. I don't think I have enough words to express my Thanks. It was unexpected but in a very good way. I have made so many friends through blogging and you are one of the special ones. The thing that everyone likes about you (and I can say for everyone) is your caring nature, thoughtfulness and respect for everyone. It has been great knowing you and your thoughts through blogging. You always seem to care about everyone else and in a very unselfish way. Ok ok ab zayada taarif nahin karunga...he he. It has been great knowing you. God Bless Ya!!

P.S : Delhi, A City of Yoginis...what an apt title for me and all you people whose minds are wandering off, this is a book about Delhi's architecture...lol.

Ten...

2007-03-02T14:31:00.000-08:00

Ten is a powerful movie by Iranian director, Abbas Kiarostami. I had heard a lot about Iranian cinema and how it is one of the most unique among any other mainly because Iran is such a paradoxical society. Most Iranians that I have met here are as modern in thoughts as anyone from western society (more so than average Indians) but what the media projects is a society run by crazy mullahs. This makes them not only a fascinating culture but gives chance to their filmmakers to show both sides of their society.

Ten is a hard-hitting documentary style movie shot in the car of the protagonist, Mania Akbari. The car has a moving camera in the dashboard and there are 10 episodes (approx. 10 mins each) with different people and different stories. One of the most interesting character is Mania's own son of 10-12 years.

Mother & Son - First story is about Mania and her relationship with his 10-12 year old son, Amin. We learn that Mania is a divorcee and her son lives with her ex-husband as he doesn't like Mania's new husband. Amin is a very interesting character in itself because he has grown very fast because of his parent's divorce and has a mind of his own. He doesn't like the ways of his mother and the fact that she re-married while his father is still single. He get angry with her very often and even calls her idiot and raises his voice occasionally. We don't see Mania in this story, just hear her voice while she is driving.

Sisters - Next story is very typical, when the sister of Mania goes with her to buy a cake for Mania's new husband and they discuss normal issues like Amin, her new relationship and all. They have a good relationship as sisters and shares all their problems.

Go Pray - Mania has lost her way and so she asks an old lady if she could guide her. The old lady wants to goto a Mosque and so she comes along. Old lady is very nice and tell Mania to pray to get rid of her all her worries. Old lady comes to this mosque 5 times a day to pray and even though she has lost her family, her faith in God is still very strong. She asks Mania to come to the mosque but Mania politely refuses.

Give & Take - Mania gives a ride to prostitute at night and because it was night time prostitute confuses Mania to be a man and sits untill she realizes that Mania is infact a woman. The prostitute is at first reluctant to open up but eventually does. Mania asks her why she does it and she replies, "I enjoy it". Mania seems more curious about her and at one point indirectly suggests if she would ever consider lesbian proposal, to which the prostitute refuses. Prostitute then tells her that she was in a relationship but he cheated on her and since then she lost all faith in men. Prostitute then tells Mania that all relationships are "Give & Take". If Mania's husband gave her a necklace, he expects something from her too. She then says the most controversial line of the movie, "The only difference between a prostitute and wife is that wife is a wholesaler while prostitute is a retailer". The story ends and we see the prostitute getting off the car and going to the side-street. She negotiates with one client and eventually goes with another.

One thing that stuck me was that when we see the prostitute from behind, she is wearing hijab like a typical Iranian women and dressed from head to toe.

Full of contradictions - We meet a friend of Mania, whom she met after going to the same mosque, the one that old lady had suggested. Mania tells her that she is not religious but she hasn't found the piece of mind and so she has started coming to this mosque. Her friend tells her that she comes regularly even though she is also not very religious. She tells Mania that she is engaged but the guy seems "full of contradictions"

Exchange - In this story Amin's father drops him and at first tells Mania to bring him by tonight but later tells her that she can keep him for the night if she wants. This time Mania asks her son about him and he tells her that he watches cartoons as his father has got the new dish, although his father has locked some channels as they show sexy stuff. She asks him if his father watches those sexy channels at night and he says "yes" and smile comes across Mania's face when she comes to know this about her ex-husband.

He's gone - Mania gives a ride to her cousin who keeps crying because her boyfriend just broke up with her. Mania tells her that she is weak and clingy like most women and so guys take advantage of her. They go for dinner later.

Amin - In this part, her son Amin accuses her of being selfish and that she only love her job and not him or her family. She asks him if his father is seeing someone and he blushes. She tells him that his father needs a homely woman and not like her who can't cook food for him. He tells her that whoever she would be, she would be better than Mania. The son and mother eventally laugh about it.

Laughing & Crying - This is the most powerful part of the story. The friend from the "Full of contradictions" returns back and tells Mania that her fiance broke up with her and she now misses him. Mania asks her why is her hijab so tight and when she loosen it we see that she has shaved her head. She asks Mania if she looks hideous and Mania says that she still look beautiful and her friend starts crying and laughing at the same time. We come to now that she shaved her head to give a reason for her break-up.

End Credits - End Credits roll with Amin asking his mother to take him to his Grandma for the night.

The movie gives a glimpse into various faces of Iranian women and their society. A society full of contradictions with itself. The movie has real people, real emotions and real reality. The movie shows different aspects of Iranian women (or for that matter any women), women as mother, divorcee, sister, grandmother, prostitute, friend, fiancee, girlfriend. It was one of the most thought provoking movies I watched this year. The movie was an official selection at Cannes Film Festival.

Victoria to Victoria...a new picture up @ kaarindah...

Ads with a difference...

2007-02-25T13:20:00.001-08:00

Thank God the zoom was invented (Kodak)

I think this Ad is powerful because it gives the messages that anyone can take professional pictures without getting in harms way and thus the camera gives one more opportunities.

Ad for the Australian Red Cross

I think its the simplicity of the Ad that makes it so different. A lot of people these days want to do good but they substitute money for "real" stuff and this Ad wants people to donate something that is as easy as putting few quarters in a money-can.

The copy says "Reach out to children with autism"

This Ad is so creative because all these kids need is a helping hand.

The copy says, "Harry's bread. Nice and soft." Indeed.

I found this Ad very cute :)

Ad by Cancer Patient and Association

This Ad is something that will get everyone's attention because it gives a wrong premise in bold but get to the real message in fine print.

The small byline at the bottom says, "Don't Abort the Girl Child."

This is one of the most powerful Ads I have seen but don't know how many people who needs the message will get this Ad.

The Man Who Met Mahatma...

2007-02-21T18:48:00.001-08:00

It was supposed to be a regular client visit. I knew she was Indian because her name was Pushpa. It was sunny saturday afternoon and her house was in this beautiful private area, mostly for retirees. I met her, we worked on her system problem. She introduced me to her husband, Kris. After I was finished with her, I went to meet Kris in his basement, as he had some technical questions. I solved his problems and he told me that he is working on publishing a book. As we were taking the stairs towards their dining area, I curiously asked,

"Are you working on some fiction book?"

"No, I am writing about my experiences with Bapu", he replied.

"Are you referring to Mahatma Gandhi?", I asked curiously again.

"Yes, I am talking about Gandhi", he replied with a wry smile.

"What are your views on Mahatma?", was my instant question as I myself have very strong views about him.

"I have mixed feelings about Bapu, both good and bad", he replied while showing me the chair in his beautiful kitchen overlooking Mt. Washington.

"I think current Indian generation identifies more with the likes of Bhagat Singh and Chandrashekhar than Mr. Gandhi", I said assertively.

"Interesting. Its actually more interesting for me to know that current generation still remembers us because I thought we freedom fighters were a forgotten lot", he said with a genuine smile. He added, "I was there in Lahore when Bhagat was hanged. Old Lahore was a city with narrow alleys and I still remember that every alley was jam packed with people shouting Bhagat's name."

"But he was hanged one day before his due time, right", I added.

"Yea, and that was a big mistake that English made because no one should be killed before he is due", he added.

"Don't you think Sir, that Gandhi could have stopped it?", I questioned

"But he didn't wanted to stop it. He had a very different ideology, which was against say the likes of, Netaji's or Bhagat's ideology. My cousin was a top lieutenant in Netaji's INA. While, I decided to choose Bapu's path even though I didn't agree with him on number of key issues", he said.

"Yea, I have lots of respect for Netaji because I think Gandhi got us independence a bit too late because most countries were already independent by 1940s", I gave my views.

"Yes and that's where I disagreed with Bapu. My views were that if each Indian kills one Britisher, they would have been wiped out in a week. But Bapu had "something", when he said that we would only use non-violence, people listened and so did I. We would go on our knees saving our head when the Britishers would come and beat us with sticks. They would even come to our Universities and beat us even though we were always peaceful. Although, today when I look at corruption in India, I think if it was all worth it.

"Yes Sir, I think every Indian has come across some form of corruption in our day to day lives. It has become part of Indian life. Although, things are improving but not fast enough", I said with a slight shame in my voice.

"I am glad but its improving for people like you and me. I think an average Indian living in small towns and villages still faces the situation everyday", he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice.

I had no answer to his observation. By this time, Pushpa, his wife, came with garma garam samosas.

"Eat something too because he could go on and on about this", she said.

We continued our talk. He talked about how there was one issue he agreed upon with Bapu and that was about partition. India should not have been partitioned but Nehru and Jinnah had their eyes set on leading their respective nations and by that time Bapu was a liability for both of them. He told me how he left for US dejected, came back and worked for Homi Bhabha (but he never met APJ Abdul Kalam, as mentioned in the story, which was fictional). He left India for Canada and has been here since then.

He went to India recently when he was honored by a honorary degree by Benaras Hindu University but was dejected to see corruption everywhere. He narrated me one incident when he met a Japanese professor and booked his tickets with him from Delhi to Benaras. On the way a Railway TT came to check tickets and told Kris that the ticket of the Japanese professor was not confirmed. A couple of students were accompanying them and so they took TT on the side, came back and TT said that the tickets are confirmed, he had made a mistake. Kris was skeptical but one of the students told him to not ask what happened. The only thing the student could say was, "Its a shame on our country". Kris never told this incident to that Japanese Professor, who is still one of his good friends and always talk about the good time he had in India.

It was evening by the time we finished talking. He asked me if I plan to goto India after finishing my degree and I told him that I am applying for jobs in Canada, US and India, but working in Canada is my first priority. He looked at me and said, "I achieved a lot in my life, worked all over the world, published 30 books, 100s of papers, made great friendships but I still consider everything I did outside India as my failure. It never gave me 100% satisfaction. I am comfortably retired but that's not everything to life".

I told him how privileged I was to meet him. He promised to give me a copy of his book on Mahatma whenever it will be published. I shook his hands and left the place.

For all its worth, it was good to meet Kris and share my views with him. I found it interesting that it is still intriguing to meet someone who has met the Mahatma.

I came home and started writing the story, which came out a bit random but that's what life is, a series of random incidents, where we all try to make sense of it by putting them in sequences at the end of it.

"Yahoo!! Pipes" are here....a new techinical post up at Creative Minds

Mahatma's own country... (Final Part)

2007-02-15T18:36:00.000-08:00

It was a beautiful Sunday morning and I took my time to wake up. Jenny woke me up with a cup of chai, like always. I looked out of the window and the day seemed perfect, perfect to finish up my story. My mind wandered off to the cold and wet morning more 30 years ago, when I landed to a typical rainy morning of Vancouver...

It was raining hard when we landed in Vancouver. This time I didn't promise anything while leaving India because I hated making promises I couldn't keep. The first thing you notice when you land in a western country is the freshness. The fresh air fills your lungs to the core and you know you are in an alien world. We went through the security and then proceeded towards the immigration. The immigration officer checking our papers was a balding white man, probably in his 50s. He checked our papers and then told us to wait couple of minutes. He went inside a small office and came up with an envelope. He handed the envelope to me.

"Sir, this is for you. It has $1200 cash and a key to Vancouver International Hotel. We were told by embassy officials to pass it onto you", he said looking pleased.

I opened the envelope, took out the key to the hotel and returned the envelope back to him.

"I have enough dollars to live for this month and I will be getting my paycheck after that. I don't want to start my life in this country by being a burden on its society. Give it to back to the embassy officials with my sincere thanks. I will take the key to the hotel for one week and return it after I find a place of my own.", I said.

The officer looked at me for few seconds, then got up, extended his hand and said, "Welcome to Canada, Sir. We need people like you."

We moved to a rented place within one week and I started my work at Univ of BC from the very next day. I was a professor by day and researcher by night. The initial years were tough for both me and Jenny because we were settling to a new country but our previous experience in US helped us settle quickly than most people. There were a lot of punjabi people in Vancouver at that time but most were uneducated laborers, working in mills and farms. It was hard for me and Jenny to assimilate among them as most punjabi people didn't identify with educated people. We were considered as outsiders among our own people. On the other hand, my job was very satisfying for me personally. Jenny was also working as a social worker and day to day life kept us busy. Over time, I published lots of papers, books and was even featured in the national newspaper. I gave lectures all over the world and was honored by few universities including the Benaras Hindu University back in India. All this was very satisfying.

Few years back, I retired from the University and started living a quiet life in Victoria. It was then I started thinking about my life so far. What did my life meant? How did I lead my life? What did I achieved and most importantly was I successful in leading the life I always wanted to live? I knew that I led a good life, maybe even privileged one compared to so many people. I achieved a lot in my life, personally and professionally. I fought for my country, I fought for my job, I fought for my love and sometimes I won, maybe not the win I always wanted but a win nonetheless. But was my life successful? I have thought hard and long about it and my answer is No. I consider myself a failure. I worked hard all my life, achieved a lot but could not achieve the success I always wanted. I may have won individual battles but overall there is something missing and the sad part is that I know what it is and how to get it but still something is holding me back.

This is the last chapter of my book but I don't want to end the chapter of my life as a failure.

It was one of those hot dusty afternoons of Sabarmati, when I found myself in company of Bapu, who was spinning the wheel very slowly. I craved for such moments of solitude with him because he always seemed to be surrounded by people. I took my chance and asked him,

"Bapu, you were living in South Africa and had started the fight for your rights there. Why did you came back to India? You could have fought there itself, considering that people in that country were more oppressed and needed you more than here"

He looked at me as if he was waiting for someone to ask this question for a long time. He stopped spinning the wheel, gave me a smile and started speaking very slowly like the spinning wheel, "There come moments in one's life which changes one's path. The train incident in South Africa was one such moment for me. I fought for my rights but over time I realized that my soul in the fight was missing. I came to India to see what I can give back to India but instead India gave me back something, my soul. I now truly believe that your soul lives in the country you are born and you can live and work anywhere in world but it would never give you full satisfaction because your soul is missing. I came back and found my soul back. I don't say that don't goto other countries. Go, explore the world, learn from them but do come back because you may not need your country but your country always needs you. "

Note: This is a fictional story where most characters are real including the protagonist but the situations, conditions, interaction between characters and incidents are a work of fiction. Any inaccuracy in the historical data is due to my limited knowledge.

Mahatma's own country... (Part IV)

2007-02-11T20:32:00.000-08:00

I woke up to the sound of waves crashing to the rocks. Wind was blowing hard and the nature was showing its fury. I had a slight cold and even though Jenny told me to take some rest today, I went to my computer room. The noise of wind took me to Miami, where I landed with $5 in my pocket...

Mr. Joydas Ganguly, a jolly bengali professor, came to pick me up at the Miami International Airport. I went to work from the very next day. Life in America was good. My research work kept me busy. Although there was intolerance for having different political views. Communism was a no-no word and even though I had minor arguments with my fellow professors about the same, I kept my views to myself. I was a guest to the country and was always conscious of the fact. As the time passed, my promise to return to India, was relegated to obscure part of my brain. My research work took most of my time until I met Jenny.

Jenny and I had opposing views on a number of issues but always respected each other's opinions. It was that respect for each other which lead us to marriage. We had a baby boy with my blue eyes and her nose, a year later. Day to day life kept us busy until the day I got that letter.

A letter from India. There was no name of the sender only a faded print of Indian post on a stamp of Bapu. I opened it up without any curiosity. It was a handwritten letter on the Government letter pad. On the top it was typed in blue ink, Department of Atomic Energy, Government of India. It was signed by Homi J. Bhabha, Chairman of Atomic Energy Commission of India. The initial part of the letter was a formal introduction to himself, although I knew Mr. Bhabha from pre-Independence days, when I considered him to be my Draunacharya. The last paragraph of the letter was directed to me...

I know you have been doing research in Atomic Energy field. It will be my honor if you could come back to your country to serve it further. I know that you have already given a lot to the country but your country needs you back...

I didn't had to read any further before I told Jenny that we will be moving to India in a month. It was my time to fulfill my promise. I wrapped up my research work in US before taking the flight to my country.

India hadn't changed much in last 10 years except that corruption and bureaucracy was visible everywhere. I had to fill a 10-page form just for the re-entry into my own country and the immigration officer still expected some chai-panni, for faster process. I took the tonga to the research centre where Mr. Bhabha himself came at the door to receive me. He gave me the keys to the guest house and showed me around the research center. I came to work the very next day.

Mr. Bhabha called me to his office the first day of work and told me about his vision and ambition, to make India a truly independent state by exploring nuclear energy. He told me to help him establish research labs all over India. It was a big responsibility considering I was the youngest person in the organization but I took it as a challenge. It was after I started working there that I was exposed to a new malice in Indian society, casteism.

Atomic Research Centre was dominated by Brahmin South Indians from Subramaniums to Swamys to Balakrishnans. I was the only non-Brahmin Punjabi among the top ranks. I was never given the kind of respect that one expected from such position. There were a lot of things that made me an outsider. Firstly, I was the only one who came from outside India, I was the youngest among the lot, I was given a big responsibility at such a young age, I was not a yes-man to Mr. Bhabha and I was still the favorite of Mr. Bhabha. Infact, Mr. Bhabha used to call me his blue-eyed punjabi scientist. All this didn't go well with the neo-conservatives that were in the research center. I was challenged on a number of issues and when I spoke against them, I was called a rebel and trouble-maker. I was fighting bureaucracy and casteism half the time. I kept working against all odds and helped create research centers all over India but the constant fight for recognition was taking its toll on me.

I went to Mr. Bhabha and told him that my job was done. I told him that I was a scholar at heart and it was about time for me to return to the quiet life of US to do more research work. I had served my country to the best of my ability. Mr. Bhabha was a fair man and knew about my struggles. He told me that he will make sure that my journey back to US would be without further hitch. And then he asked me for a favor.

"Can you do me a favor?", he asked politely.
"It will be my honor, Sir", I replied.
"There is an intern who joined recently for some experience. Can you take him in your wing by the time you wait for your visa"
"Sure sir and Thank You for giving me the opportunity to come back and serve my country".

The intern joined in the next day. He was a very shy young man but very bright. He had a twinkle in his eye that reminded me of my earlier young days, when everything was possible. He would come on time everyday, get instructions from me and by the end of the day complete his task with utmost sincerity. At times he would spend his nights in the institute. His dedication to work was infectious. Working with him was one of the best experience of my time in the institute. I wanted to train him further but my plans my changed suddenly.

I was attending a Diwali function when I was introduced to the Canadian high commissioner. I told him about my plan to move back to US, when he took me to a corner.

"How much time will it take you to go to US", he asked.
"The visa takes about 3 months, so 2 more months at the very least", I replied.
"Can you please come and meet me in the office tomorrow. I may have a proposition for you", he said while passing me his card.

And so I went to meet him next day with Jenny. He told me that his Government will be honored if I could instead come to Canada. He can arrange my visa in a week, if I was ready. I looked at Jenny, she nodded and we were on our way to Canada within 10 days.

As I was switching through the TV channels, I stopped at CBC news. The host was talking about the visit by President of India to the nation's capital, Ottawa. And there he was, shy young man, Abdul, taking the royal guard of honor. It was a proud moment for me...

(To be continued....last part coming soon)

Garden of Love...a new picture up @ kaarindah...

Mahatma's own country... (Part III)

2007-02-06T13:10:00.000-08:00

It's a beautiful summer morning. The smell of daffodils in our garden seep through the window sill into the room. The fresh morning air fills the room with the new day. Although, no morning can compare to that day...

We were all glued to the All India Radio when Mr. Nehru said those words, the words of freedom...

"Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity..."

Those words had spurred a nation. I woke up early on that beautiful morning. There was something in the air, it smelled of freedom. There was something in the flowers, they had the smile of the new nation.

I left for my college on my cycle. Streets were filled with people distributing sweets, singing vande mataram, kids flying the kites, people hugging each other. Although, it all changed the moment I picked up the paper. Another train filled with charred bodies arrives from Lahore. I am sure my friend Bismillah Khan must be reading about the train that left Delhi with butchered bodies. I was not sure whether to enjoy this freedom or not, because it didn't seem right or maybe we were expecting too much.

I was a researcher of physics and atomic energy was a hot topic of research in those days, although it got bad name in the last big war. We didn't even had chairs and would sit on chowkis in our labs and work with whatever equipment was left by the British. All we had was a jazba to do something for our country because we were the ones shaping it. We had the task of laying the foundation of the nation for the future generations to build on.

Mr. Nehru was very interested in developing atomic energy for peaceful purposes. He wanted India to develop the energy without outside help. I didn't agree with all the policies of Mr. Nehru. I agreed that we needed to become self-sufficient nation but closing our doors to the world was not the way to do it. Western world had surged ahead by the time we were fighting for our freedom. We needed their support esp. in the research field but all we got was a licensing raj. As an academician, this license business was frustrating but still I was ready to fight it for my country. I was getting invitations from Universities around the world but this was my home untill one day...

We were standing in line at a checkpoint. An old, poor lady was infront of us. A sub-inspector was checking the passes at the checkpoint. He asked her for pass but she didn't had it. He told her that she cannot go ahead unless she can pay for some chai-paani.

"Pachas rupya lagega", he said
"Pachas rupya kahan se launge babujee. Mujhe apne bachon se milna hain", she said.
"Pachas rupya nahin hain toh pass le ke aa, jaa"

She turned away when he stopped her.

"Kya hain iss potli main tere"
"Churiyan hain sahib"
"Chal abhi woh hee dede, jaa mille apne bachon se, tu bhi kya yaad rakhege"

She gave it hesitatingly, mumbling something about the dahej of her young daughter. It was our turn. We had our passes but there was a signature missing in mine.

"Aap toh padhe likhe lagte ho sahib. Signature missing hain. Par you are educated toh 100 rupee se kaam chal jayega", the sub-inspector said.

My blood was already boiling by this time. I took the papers from him.

"You know you are a BASTARD. You are worse than the people who were ruling us. Atleast they were not screwing their own people. I saw what you did to that poor woman before us. Do you think this is why we fought for our independence?", I shouted at him.

"Who told you to fight? Who told you to get independence for us? We were better under the British Raj. We had better salary then. The day they left, we got demoted and all the top level jobs were given to the Brahmins. You didn't do any favor to me by fighting for this independence. I blame people like you everyday for my misfortunes, sahib", he retorted

My father stopped me before paying 100 rupya and told me not to say anything. My father was a high official in Government and did not want me to insult another Government fellow. As we moved away from the checkpoint, I turned to my Baojee, as I would call him, and said, "I have decided to leave for America. I have been offered a research position in the University of Miami. I don't want to live in this thankless country anymore". My Baojee didn't say anything.

I left India after 3 months but promised myself that one day I will return to serve my country...

I sometimes still think about checkpoint incident. Did we really fought for every people of our country? What if we were wrong? What if Britishers were indeed good for our country? Also, sometimes we people think of everything in black and white. Truth is that Britishers indeed did a lot for the country which goes unnoticed. They connected the whole country through rail-lines, they build buildings with some of the most beautiful architecture, the gave us the language of the world that has helped India become a strong country over time, they had less corruption in their rank and file and much more.

The thought of that beautiful day of 15th August, 1947, gives me the answer to my questions. Yes, we did the right thing. Yes, we fought for everyone in the country.

The sweet smell of that day, is still stuck between the pores of my lungs and keeps me alive...

(To be continued...)

The Hundred Dollar Laptop...a new technology post up @ Creative Minds

Mahatma's own country... (Part II)

2007-01-31T12:05:00.000-08:00

I couldn't properly sleep the whole night. The backache kept coming back. On that fateful evening in Lahore when we listened to my heart, the British police was rushed in, to quiet down the peaceful revolt in our college. We were beaten by laathis till they broke but none of us raised our hands on them. The police left after they were exhausted but I couldn't properly sleep from that night.

I stretched my back and sat on my computer again recollecting my thoughts. The sun shining through the window reminded me of one hot day that changed the fate of a nation...

It was June 3rd 1947. I was standing outside the building where a fate of a nation was being decided. An eager Nehru, a stubborn Jinnah and the mediator Mountbatten, among others were deciding if a nation and its people should be divided. The heat outside was unbearable but it was the anticipation that was making it worse.

I disagreed with Bapu on an ideological basis but one thing we both agreed was that India should not be divided under any cost. Bapu had tried his best. He even tried talking out Nehru. He told him that India has already spent more than 200 years British rule, so how does it matter if we wait 2-3 more years to sort everything out. Nehru always gave due consideration to Bapu but he was adamant about India getting Independence as soon as possible. I don't think he thought this way only to get power because at that point we Indians didn't knew what power was. Bapu's desperation was rising with every passing day and at one point he even suggested to Nehru that let us make Jinnah the Prime Minister of new nation and give all the top cabinet positions to Muslim leaders, if that prevents partition. I could understand Bapu's desperation about the nation he always dreamed of but at that point Nehru knew that we need our Independence sooner rather than later, lest Bapu is able to convince others to make Jinnah the Prime Minister of free India. It was then he called for the final meeting on June 3rd.

The news had leaked out of the room, Mountbatten had told Jinnah that he can have his Pakistan. A stroke of pen had decided the fate of millions of people. I could see it unraveling before my own eyes. Muslims standing with us suddenly were watching us with suspicious eyes. No body knew what to say to each other. The silence of the place was deafening. It was a silence that usually comes before a storm.

My thoughts went for the man who we all lovingly called, Bapu. He would be a broken man tonight. For the major part of his life he fought for a nation, a nation without caste system, a nation without religious differences, a nation who would celebrate their independence together. All he got was a divided nation, two nation full of hatred and two nations celebrating their independence without acknowledging each other. We all have differences with our parents and may not agree with them on a lot of issues but still nobody likes to see their father broken. Nehru who lovingly gave Mohandas Gandhi the name, Bapu, had just signed a deal that shattered his Bapu.

As I think about that day, tears still swell up in my eyes. I didn't gave my back for a divided nation. Bhagat Singh didn't die to get separated from Ashfaqulla Khan. Not many people know this but it was neither Nehru nor Jinnah who partitioned India, it was a lack of one piece of information, that divided India. As Mountbatten later wrote, if only he had known that Jinnah had cancer, he would have not divided the nation. Jinnah died after one year of Pakistan's independence, making the nation orphan, as President Musharaf noted in his recent memoirs.

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still dream, what if...

(To be continued)

Chilly Paneer (Contributed by: Faith) ... a new recipe up @ sanjha chulha

Mahatma's own country - A Story by Ricky Singh

2007-01-27T20:40:00.000-08:00

This story is dedicated to my dearest Mom. Happy Birthday Ma!!
__________________________________________________________________

It is a beautiful sunny winter morning. The kind of morning where you want to take a book that transports you to the city you never been but always wanted to go, that talks about the love you wished you had in your life, that talks about the ending that leaves some questions unanswered. I took a deep breath, switched on my computer and opened a new word document. My mind shifted from a beautiful sunny morning in Victoria to a beautiful sunny morning in Lahore...

"Bhagat Singh ZINDABAD"
"Rajguru ZINDABAD"
"Sukhdev ZINDABAD"

The narrow alleys of Lahore were filled with people from all walks of lives. The name of Bhagat Singh was on everyone's lips. The news had spread rapidly that Bhagat Singh was hanged a day before the decided time. The anger was brewing in the streets all over India.

I was the President of Student's Union at National College, Lahore, the same college where Bhagat Singh studied the lives of revolutionaries of Ireland, Italy and Russia. We organized a peaceful march in our beautiful College ground.

National College, Lahore

"Bhagat Singh ZINDABAD"
"Rajguru ZINDABAD"
"Sukhdev ZINDABAD"

I knew that students were getting restless. Bhagat Singh's popularity had risen manifold after his arrest and the arrogance of Britishers to hang someone before his judgment day had angered the students. The situation had the possibility to go out of hand. It seemed like Bhagat Singh's idea of waking Indian youth to fight against the Britishers by becoming a martyr, was going to take effect.

"Bhagat Singh ZINDABAD"
"Rajguru ZINDABAD"
"Sukhdev ZINDABAD"

The anger in the voices seemed to be increasing with every chant of Bhagat Singh. Although, my mind agreed with Bhagat Singh's ideology of revenge, my heart still listened to Bapu and his words. I always choose my heart over my mind, sometimes foolishly.

I took the microphone and a sudden hush went through the crowd of few thousands students. My heart started to speak...

"Inquilab ZINDABAD"

An uproar went through the University, followed by another hush.

"A great injustice has been done today. Bhagat Singh is a martyr. Rajguru is a martyr. Sukhdev is a martyr. They fought and died for us. Their lives were taken before time. We cannot let their deaths to go waste. Our freedom struggle starts today. We cannot let another Bhagat Singh die. We need people like Bhagat Singh for our future. A retaliation against the British will lead to more Bhagat Singhs being hanged. Britishers will hang our future and we cannot let that happen. We will fight for our independence because we cannot let Bhagat Singh die in vain but we would not let another Bhagat Singh die."

There was silence in a crowd until someone shouted, "How will we fight for our Independence, then?"

I knew this was the question whose answer everyone was looking for. I knew I had to answer this...

"We will fight for our rights but we won't die for our rights. We will fight for our rights but we won't kill for our rights. We won't become the enemy because we know we are the 'right' one. We won't respond with violence against violence because we would then become our own enemy. We would stand our ground and show our enemy that we don't agree with them. We won't be cowed down by our enemy. We will fight for our right to live. Bhagat Singh died because he didn't wanted us to die. Bhagat Singh died because he wanted the youth to rise against the tyranny. Bhagat Singh stood his ground and we shall too..."

Now when I think about that, I cannot help but think, "Did I gave the right speech? Should I have listened to my mind instead? ", I don't know the answer myself but I know what Bapu would have said...

(To be continued...)

Blogger Postcards from Around the world, a new picture-post up @ kaarindah...

Creative Society...

2007-01-20T19:20:00.000-08:00

In my Media Application class we saw a video titled, "Sowing the Seeds for a more Creative Society". This was a presentation given by a professor at MIT Media Labs, Mitchel Resnick. It was one of the most interesting and thought provoking lectures on creative societies of the future. He started off with a very simple question, Pick the odd one out from: Television, Computer and Paintbrush. Most people would pick Paintbrush because other two are both inventions of 20th century but he comes around to the point that there is or should be much more commonality between a Paintbrush and Computer than the other two because both are an interactive mediums of expression. In India, China and Japan the buzzword is knowledge-based industry but US/Canada are moving to the next step with creative societies, while outsourcing some of the work of knowledge based industries to third-world countries, in order to remain competitive and increase their efficiencies.

MIT Media Lab in Boston

The Professor argues that Computers have to an extent failed the educational system. They have replaced teachers by providing students information but this information is very one-sided and non-interactive. The way computers can serve our society better is by becoming an expression of creativity rather than knowledge. He gave a very interesting example of Kindergarten. How do we learn in school in KG? We usually have a KG class (or Nursery in India) with toys, shapes, colors, paint etc. and we would experiment and explore, to learn about them. He argues that we should have the same approach to rest of schooling where we don't learn from books but by experimenting and exploring things that interest us. I disagree a bit with him because it is necessary to atleast get the basic education the traditional way like Math and Sciences because they are working well but once those are imparted, in later classes we should revert back to the KG approach of learning by experimenting. Traditionally, this would be very expensive way to teach but this is where software technologies can come and let people experiment without being too expensive and in most cases free by using open-source technologies.

Creativity starts here...

He gives an example of Singapore where traditionally Math and Sciences are valued very highly by its society very much like India, but not much innovation is coming from people there because they are not experimenting and learning the old-way. So, although they can solve traditional problems but they cannot provide creative solutions to problems and we are living in a world where in order to succeed one has to be creative to flourish. He then goes on to show how MIT has developed some software that can revolutionize how we learn and educate are generations to come. He also shows example from around the world, how kids are using technology to solve their day to day problems in a creative way.

The last success story he tells is the one that stand out. MIT Labs have Computer Clubhouse Project where they are giving children from low-income families or countries opportunity to express themselves using technology. They have a center in Delhi and he tells about a project there where a 13 year old who was living in slum area, was part of this project and using software with which you could see things under microscope on the computer screen. He was playing with that when he put the water he was drinking under the microscope and discovered that it had germs of all kinds. He decided to check the source of water and found that it was usually taken from municipal taps in unhygienic areas of slums. He did a survey in the slum on how people treat the water and found that boiling water is the best way to get rid of germs and so he convinced his parents to boil the water. It just shows how technology was able to raise standard of living of this individual and his family. This boy learned more by experimenting and exploring then he would have learned it in school if someone would have lectured him about water safety.

As a software professional these are the kind of projects that excite me. It gives me tools to make a difference in our society through my knowledge. If we all can use our skills, that we gained through traditional or otherwise means, we all can contribute to our society. This is one of the most inspiring video that I watched and it had rejuvenated me to learn 'n' explore more, not only to get a good paying job but create software that can bring the best in our society.

This is a long video but if anyone wants to watch it, the link is here.

Destruction, a new photo-post up @ kaarindah...

NEW - A new tech blog by yours truly...Creative Minds

Bangalore Tiger

2007-01-10T19:41:00.000-08:00

These tigers unlike regular tigers prowl day and night, they sneak up quietly when they see their target and prey on them, they know no boundaries and are not afraid to venture out to new ones. These tigers are none other than Indian tech companies that are making their roar all over the world. Bangalore Tiger, a very comprehensively written book by Steven Hamm, is about Wipro, India's third largest tech company behind Infosys and TCS. Steve Hamm is a senior editor of Business Week and hence lends credibility to the book in the US media. The book tells the story of Wipro, how it started, grew and is still growing everyday.

Recently, Times of India Group, launched a website and Ad-campaign, India Poised. It talks about two India's, one that is apprehensive and other that is on-the-move to conquer the world. Bangalore Tiger belongs to the 'other' India.

Wipro is one of India's best success story in recent times. A small vegetable oil company transforms into one of India's tech giants. Although, Infosys and TCS are still ahead in terms of revenues and sheer size, Wipro still has made its place in the tech world. This book is clearly a public relations exercise to get into some PR into one of the most exciting markets of all, US. Wipro was listed on Nasdaq later than Infosys and the price difference is shares is almost 3 times (Infy: 58.06 and Wipro (NYSE): 16.83), it still is very significant. Unlike Infosys though, Wipro is bad in marketing and brand management (as the book agrees too) and so this book is a good way to create a buzz in the market.

Wipro's Floating Centre, India's only training centre partially submerged in water, in Bangalore

The book start of by explaining how Indian tech giants are taking on the western companies like Microsoft, IBM and Accenture, not head-on but by differentiating into service industry which is their expertise. Also, how a small company like Wipro is able to lead in multiple market and vertical business units. One of the reasons the book gives for Wipro's success is their ultra-strict ethics and value system, which is translated into The Wipro Spirit - The Intensity to Win, Act with Sensitivity and Unyielding Integrity. Wipro is very high on morals and it clearly comes from the top, Aseem Premji. He not only transformed a sagging oil company but did it without compromising on his moral values. He is one of the architects of new resurgent India. Premji believes on spending very little on frills and gimmicks but takes proper care of his employees without indulging too much in pampering them as some other companies do. Infact, even he flies first-class rather than business-class to make an example.

Wipro's campus in Hyderabad

Aseem Premji was studying engineering in US when he got a call from his mother that his father has passed away and he had to come back. This one incident changed his life forever. He was given a failing vegetable oil company and the first thing he did was to introduce metrics into the business. It was his engineering background that made him trust numbers more than guess-work that was rampant in oil business. For e.g. in order to decide price for buying peanuts for oil, someone would chew a peanut to decide how much oil it has and then price was decided. Premji used engineering methodology to transform that practice into something that could be measured and was far more accurate.

Premji giving one of his lectures virtually

The book is one of the most comprehensive guide into the BPO business or as the book likes to call it, transnational company, that works in virtually every country but most of the work is done remotely back in India with limited onsite people. Wipro had given unlimited access to the writer, Steve, about its business process, business structure, management style, technological details. Living in Canada, I knew a bit about the offshoring business but this book spells it out in detail, how it works, how they make money, how they expand, how they find clients, how they keep them happy.

One area that book recognizes Wipro needs to work on to succeed in long run is Innovation. Companies that innovate are the ones that survive. Premji also recognizes that and has started innovation projects on three levels, technology innovation, solution innovation and process innovation. Premji created Centre for Excellence for R&D into new innovating projects. Another area that Wipro lags is product development but Wipro is not very much interested to go into that because it conflicts with its current business model.

The book ends with following postive words about resurgent India, "The Indian people have the ingenuity to overcome huge obstacles. And from ingenuity comes innovation. You'd better get ready to make room for them"

"Little Church in the Backyard", a new photo post @ Kaarindah

Blog Story Review: Progati - The Tale of Progress

2007-01-05T13:48:00.000-08:00

Have women progressed with time? Can the progress of small percentage of women in India be really called 'progress'? Do circumstances play a role in their progress or progati? What is women's progress anyways?

Some of these questions were answered by a lazily written story by Anks, Progati - The Tale of Progress. The story is about two women, Saira - the protagonist and Rewa/Progati. The story starts with a passage from a book that Saira is reading and she is reminded of Rewa, the progressive girl she always idolized. Saira then describes her circumstances, why she was the way she was. She then describes Rewa from her eyes, the way she saw her, the confident, intelligent, passionate, Rewa. Rewa who won debates by advocating 'freedom of women', against Nabin. We get to know through Saira, how one of the numerous articles written by Rewa, changes Saira's life for good. This answers one of the questions above, Do circumstances play a role in their progress or progati?. An article, a personality, had finally managed to change life of Saira for good.

We are then transported to reality. Saira not only progressed but how. She wins the award for writing in the non-fiction category. A shy, timid girl, progresses to complete her PhD and is doing her best to change the world though her words, the same words that changed her life. Although, for Saira, progress doesn't mean leaving her family behind. She is a progressive Indian woman, who not only manages to make their mark in the society but knows how to take care of their family, in her case, her husband, her Abbu and the kids.

For long, Indian men have been wary of the progress made by Indian women. I think they fear that their women may leave them once they progress in life but that what makes Indian women different from the rest. Indian women's idea of progress includes their family and is indeed its their first priority. This is wonderfully portrayed by the character-sketch of Saira in the story.

Saira then meets Rewa after few years, who is the winner of the best fiction, Progati. Although, Saira takes time to recognize her because she seemed to have changed, she notices that Rewa is as strong willed as she was in her college days. We get our first shock of the story (which I won't reveal) but it is as shocking for Saira as it is for us all. After the party, Saira calls Rewa for coffee and asks a favour. It is there that we see Rewa for the first time through Rewa's eyes. This answers the same question, Do circumstances play a role in their progress or progati?. Do circumstances change people or do people create circumstances? Rewa's story proves that both part of the above question can be true at the same time. Circumstances can change people to change their circumstances. Also, it gives a valuable lesson that first impression may not be the last impression. We don't know half the time why people do what they do and so it gives us no right to judge them rightly or wrongly. We get some more twists in the story which actually leads to the right conclusion of the story and helps explain everything that lead to change in circumstances of both Rewa and Saira.

The story ends with an answered question. What does progress of women mean in today's day and age? Which women has more progressed, the one who achieves fame, great career, bright future at the expense of family or the one who has a place in the society, has a good career if not great but who still has her family right behind her in every which way? The answer to this question may vary but the author and myself agree that there need be a balance between career and family, for a women to be truly progressive (or progatisheel). Family should come first for both the spouses but a good career is necessary for that family to get all the comforts of the world. Also, people should realize that women who are housewives are as progressive if they give good education, sanskar and love to children and the family. Infact, their contribution to the Indian society is immense. So, definition of progati as mentioned in the story can vary from person to person depending upon each and everyone's circumstances.

It was Saira's words that in the end planted the seed of progress in Rewa when she says, "...if you want love, you have to first give it."

This was without doubt my favorite story from Anks collection. Her another story that impressed me was Kaya's Story but the filmi twist in the end, made it look hurried. Progati was written lazily, in a long span of time, but each episode was very well written esp. the conversations between Saira and Rewa, which were the heart of the story. The story had right amount of twists, not too many, but the story was more about human relationships from a woman's perspective. The characterization, the setting, the dialouges, the flash-back, were all neatly arranged in the story of two women and their progress.

Although, the story had feminist perspective it was not anti-men story by any stretch of imagination. Feminist was a great movement but it has been relegated to lowest common denominator, which is to put men down. This story gives a better perspective of the feminism by giving respect to men in the story while giving inspiration to women to make a mark in the society.

The story didn't manage to answer all the questions mentioned in the beginning but it was able to raise some and answer some, like a good story should. Progati of women is in their hands and they just need some inspiration, some idols, some words, some stories (like this one) to realise their potential and contribute to the society.

Happy Birthday Anks.

A New Beginning...

2007-01-01T00:53:00.000-08:00

It's a cliché but this year should be a new beginning for me in more than one ways. I will be completing my education, getting my immigration, finding a new job, moving to a new city, who knows maybe a new country, hopefully will be visiting India after 6 years. This is the time for resolutions but since they are meant to be broken, its better not to make them in the first place. Although, I have been feeling lately as if something is missing and its not what one may think it is. It's my spirituality, somewhere down the line it's went missing within me. I could feel its absence and hopefully will find it this year. I am sure rest will fall in place.

Happy New Year Everyone!!

May you all find 'something' that is missing in your life this year.

Let the fireworks begin...

Fireworks at Taipei 101, the famous towers in Taipei, Taiwan

Awesome Fireworks 2007 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

One of the best fireworks this year in Singapore. It almost looks magical.

World's largest fireworks display this year from Sydney, Australia.

New Years Celebration from London Eye, Southbank, London.