To all those who never knew..

It doesn’t surprise me, actually nothing about us human beings does, that people can struggle all their lives for something and when they get it, they do not even see it. Simple as it is, you can spot something only when you know what is there to spot. When translated into our world, a person can acknowledge something only when he or she knows what they are awaiting.

But what if you are wearing the wrong glasses and you can not recognise things? Naturally, most will turn bitter at how life ‘simply failed them’. It can be a miserable state to be me, I have seen it. There is an old saying, ‘Life either makes you bitter or better’, it is all about wearing the right glasses, or is it? 

Do feel there is a way out even if you have worn the wrong glasses. We always have a choice, remember those great words? Tend to believe in them a lot. Whether you chose to face the sun and shine brighter, go down the wire like a fighter or simly gulp down water and plummet to the unknown depths of the ocean of life, only you can decide. In those times when I would read Osho often, the one thing I remember more than anything else is a line – You are responsible for yourself.

Can anybody put you in a spot without your consent? No, absolutely not.

Came across someone who gave up after a point in life. Sad as the case is, the person struggled all his life for what his belief was. He kept scoring his points, earned respect and was well on his way but because he wore the wrong glasses, he couldn’t see the fruits he had earned and gradually felt that life had simply failed him. What next? He decided to give it up. Let it all come crashing down and he lives to this day, cursing what he got. Little does he realise that he got what he did only because he chose to settle with it. He was too tired to bargain, he was too disillusioned to hope, was too scared to take an initiative and too fragile to take the rough road. And thus made the decision. It was his choice. Even though he was a winner, he can not think beyond being a victim. He never really knew… 

They say, in life you never know. So even though I talk these things today, I don’t know what will await me, tomorrow. But if I falter, wear the wrong glasses and make the wrong choice, then I hope to read this, at least.


Mr. Terrorist, I surrender

A terror attack is an attack on our freedom and way of life, as much as it is on our people and property. The way we are is what irks them and by perpetrating such acts, they want us to change. I want to tell the terrorists, I surrender. I will change.

Henceforth, I will live my life more fully, will enjoy and savour every moment that I have, will be a responsible citizen, will be a more compassionate human being and will use whatever I have of my life towards making this world a better place. There is enough damage that even those who are not seen as terror creators are doing that every human being working towards a better tomorrow has already got his/her task cut out. Yes, Mr. Terrorist, I will change.

Mr. Terrorist, I will change the way I have been, all these years. It is thanks to you that I will be more sensitive, more understanding, more aware, more open and more tolerant. And every time I stray, it will be your fear that will make me stick to my new path. It is also thanks to you that I will work for a world where no youngster will ever have to take up arms instead of books and take the route that you had to. I will work towards destroying you.

Thank you.

Goan diaries – II

Goa isn’t exactly known for its diaries but may be after I write, it will..

For those who do not know, I visited Goa between June 7 and 10. Since friends were busy and none of them was unlucky enough to be forced to join me, I made the trip alone.

Sunday June 8

I didn’t really follow the transition from June 7 to June 8. It all seemed like an unending, uncomfortable and, if I may add, unsuccessful, attempt to sleep in that bus. I almost saw the night through! Anyway, morning arrived as the bus stopped for chai and nastaa, near Kankavli. The dark clouds hovering above were making me nervous. They seemed like the dark-suited representatives of all those who said it was pointless going to Goa in the rains. With the fear of a washout looming over my head, I settled for chai. As I read the Goa edition of the TImes of India or let me be honest, Goa Times/Panjim Times or whatever it is called, I found an unexpected ally. On the cover of that paper was a ‘slimmer by 10kg Manisha Koirala’ who screamed out, ‘Goa is heavenly during rains’. Good morning, I told myself!!

The remaining few hours of the journey to Panjim were, well forgettable, as the buswala continued his streak of worse-follows-bad movies with ‘My name is Anthony Gonzalves’ after last night’s show of ‘Jannat’. But that gave me a chance to capture the wet reception on my lens

wet reception..
wet reception..

As the clock struck 10:30am, the wheels of my bus ceased to roll. I and Panjim were finally together! Thanks to an old rickshaw driver, I got a good room at a good hotel, Hotel Baretton. What more, I even managed a discount! Anyway, so I went up, brushed, took a bath, emptied myself of all the worldly belongings (actually Mumbai-ly belongings) and waited for Sylvester to arrive, which in a few minutes, he did. door didn’t rattle when he knocked or I didn’t feel guilty for not going to the gym on seeing his physique. As I opened the room door, there he stood in front of me – all of 5ft, thin and smiling. The sweet guy that he was, he handed over to me the keys of the bike, which was to be my sole partner throughout the trip.

Sylvester gone, I came down and after briefly taking directions from the receptionist, embarked on the 40km journey to Arambol, which later seemed a little more than that. Why there? Well, Archie and family were there so I thought I would meet up. I have never felt it so strongly, as I did during my bike ride to Arambol, that in a sea of unknown faces, it can be a really tempting thought that of getting to see even one known face. Rains, lack of direction, cooperative Goans, they all helped me reached Archie’s place where I was treated to egg bhurjee, which was yummm! On top of that, little Ruhaan was there too….more yummm! Warm food, warm people and naturally a good time, what more can you ask for in an alien land! 

Later on, Archie showed me around the place, we visited the Arambol beach and returned. Since the rain clouds were all ganging up, I didn’t wish to take chances. Besides, I had only recently realised that rains and bike can stretch distances a tad too far.

Once inside the safe confines of Hotel Baretton, I washed my clothes and briefly went out to dine before I dozed off. Well, I had a lot of catching up to do there.

the saleswoman who sold me ‘guilt’

It was yet another day, I was at home, watching the news when the door bell rang. I went over and opened the door. In front of me stood a 40-something woman, dressed in a salwar kameez and panting uncontrollably. Alternating words and her breathe, she asked me if there was a lady at home to which I replied in the negative. This seemingly innocent admission of the fact, as it stood then, apparently hurt her.

The panting changed into an expression of pain as she shot her next question at me, “Is anyone at your home unwell or something?” Again, my answer was in the negative. Two negatives anyway didn’t make a positive so I was pretty much expecting further dismay and she delivered.  “Nobody at your place is ill or has a problem from the health point of view,” she lamented, as if it was the most unbelievable thing to be told. By now, my heart had melted. I felt bad for the woman who was trying so hard so sell her stuff but I could do nothing about it. With a grim cum guilt laden face, I replied, “No, sadly there is no one like that at my place.”

She withdrew. Lost, defeated and with a deep sense of failure, she retreated. But what was wrong with me? Why did I feel ‘guilty’ that ‘there was no one unwell at my place’? Thats when i realised that the saleswoman did sell me something – defective guilt! 🙂

I think I know who attacked the Indian parliament

Been a witness to the drama over the Indo-US nuclear deal? I have.

Our politics has hit a nadir. To understand that, you need to simply read the following five lines:

  1. Congress-led UPA government negotiated the Indo-US nuclear deal, so it supports it
  2. Left hates anything that has letters ‘U and S’ placed consecutively and thus opposes it
  3. BJP-led NDA is in the opposition and did not bring the deal, so it opposes it
  4. Samajwadi party and smaller parties wants to keep BJP at bay, so they support the UPA
  5. Other parties hate Congress and are worried that Muslims oppose the deal and thus oppose the deal

At a time when the country’s energy security appears far from comfortable, these are the reasons our politicians don’t want to discuss such an important piece of legislation. It is not surprising that none of the so-called leaders have had the gall to utter out opposition after the nuances of the deal were finally revealed when the text of the India-specific agreement with the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) was ‘leaked’. The government’s role too has been far from clean but which leader or party has it in to engage the government into sensible debate??

The way our system is and leaders are, I sometimes feel that the guys who attacked the Indian parliament in December 2001 were not terrorists but frustrated Indians.

Enough is enough!

Normally, when you have been through a lot, seen it all and not liked it, you want to change things. Keeping this universally acclaimed principal in mind, when you are frustrated with something/someone and you know the water has gone above the limit, you decide to act decisively. With a determined mind, all set to act on your agitated thoughts, one yells out, “Enough is enough!”

Come to think about it, its an anti-climax. You can equate it with the hype built up for an Indo-Pak cricket tie and it being rained off before starting! It is a flaw, the expression is. I mean what are you trying to convey by saying something like ‘Enough is enough!’? Is it something that you had to yell out so that the world could enlighten itself on it? Or you discovered the mantra in those moments of anger, pain and frustration? Or is it something that noone has ever acknowledged before you chose to? WHAT??????

Enough – the word, throughout the history of its existence on this planet, has always been known as ‘enough’. I can assure you. I even pledge that never was ‘enough’ known as ‘dsflkjgvn’ or aerhdewdfen’ (or any such typo I can come up with). Then why do we keep on harping ‘enough is enough’? Let us make a start somewhere. 

In fact, the time is ripe, right now. You have just read this post and decided that you won’t ever visit my idle-mind workshop that this site represents. So, go on, determine it for yourself and tell me how I have had it this time or how I could ever fall to such an extent and all that sort of things. Say what you like but you know what not to say 🙂

I WAS IN KGB…yes, you read right

Guys, it is serious.

After my stint in KGB, I was firm…I had to move on.

Never was I supposed to revisit it.

No friend was ever supposed to come close enough for me to reveal it to him/her.

Apart from my colleagues there and my parents, who saw me through that period, nobody on this planet was to ever know!

But it came back. To haunt me, to never let me forget and to rekindle my past.

It wasn’t very pleasing. But nonetheless, it is something I couldn’t erase from my life. Now, after I share it with you, I know, it won’t be forgotten..ever.   

As I was cleaning my drawer, it tumbled out….my report card of KG, standard B.

I’d scored very less..

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