YOU

I wanna swim in the ocean... I wanna take a dive...
I feel dead at the moment... I wanna be alive...

I wanna express myself... I desperately wanna talk...
I feel lame at the moment... I crave for a walk...

I see a lock on the door... I search for a key...
I'm tired of being a fake... I just wanna be me...

I feel burdened at the moment... I wanna get rid of the weight...
I am tired of crawling... I wanna walk straight...

I know I'll succeed... I know I'm passing through...
I feel strong at the moment... Coz my strength is 'YOU'

A little love story...

Watching people narrate their love, love full of glory,
I too feel like citing one, one little love story.

I had a girl whom I liked with all my heart;
alas I stayed just a friend right from the start.

Everyone felt joyous, you just had to witness her smile,
the last time I felt the joy, It’s been some while.

I was like a king whose crown brightly shone,
but to see her smile just once, I would forfeit my throne.

I made up my mind n geared up for the test,
As always she looked her level best.

I tried to speak out but she wanted to go first,
With a smile on my face, I prepared for the worst.

Don’t ask any questions she said, I have answers for none,
I wanted to hold her and say 'Dear I never expected one'.

I had the feelings and I wanted them expressed,
no matter how much they leave me depressed.

I wouldn’t say the story ends, the result is still pending,
Coz I know... The story isn’t over until there is a happy ending...

The Trip - Part 3

...cont from 'The Trip - Part 2'

The Dargah, which was located atop a small hill was just a couple of minutes away from the main temple was a boon in disguise as I couldn’t have been able to control my breathing any longer. We went inside the Dargah to find a peaceful place surrounded by trees with the birds chirping merrily while flying around, thankful to be in an environment which was pollution free. The sight was one we could rarely get to see in a city like Mumbai and the probability of hearing these sounds in Mumbai was a big ‘ZERO’. I climbed the platform which was out of limits for the females to enter the Dargah along with my uncle and cousin. We found a baba inside who stood up from his praying stance on seeing us. The baba was approximately five feet three inches tall, about 70 years of age with an average built. He motioned me to kneel down in front of the Kabr located in the centre of the small structure. Unaware of the method in which the baba gave his blessings, I obeyed.

As soon as I was on my knees and bent down in front of the Kabr, I felt a hand slamming me right on my spinal cord. In an instant, my position had transformed from the ‘Kneel down’ method of the Muslims to the ‘Sashtang Namaskar’ style of the Hindus as I lay flat on my stomach unable to balance myself after the ‘blessing slam’. It took a few moments for my spinal cord to stop vibrating from the impact of the slam and send signals to my brain to get up. Embarrassed at being brought down by a five 5 feet 3 inches tall 70 year old man in a single blow, I got up and turned around to see the amused expressions on the faces of my uncle and cousin. Forcing a smile, I went past them and straight out of the Dargah. To my horror, I realized that the females had watched the whole incident from below the platform and the realization of how much little sisters like their elder brothers to be humiliated left me even more terrified imagining the leg pulling session that awaited me.

I got down from the platform and tried my level best to stay as far away from my little sister as possible. But being a sister, she wasn’t ready to let go of the golden opportunity. She came beside me and with a huge grin on her face and asked “how is your back now?” “I was taken by surprise!” was all I could say. She burst out laughing and after a good 5 minutes went away to join the other ladies who were having their Q & A session with the baba who was standing on the platform and suddenly looked like ‘The Great Khali’ to me. After listening to the questions of the ladies patiently, the baba signaled the ladies to follow him to the other Kabr which was located beside the platform where the ladies were supposed to pray. Once all the ladies had gathered around the baba, he started chanting his version of the mantras’, I went near the group and tried to understand the mantras, but as the trend was, I wasn’t able to understand a single word. Disappointed, I turned to leave.

Suddenly I heard a thud and turned around instantly to find my aunt lying on the ground. I tried to run towards her but was stopped midway by the signal of the baba who had raised his hand still chanting the mantras. Not in any mood to confront the person who had taken me down in a single blow, I stopped. My aunt had fallen on the ground in a position drastically similar to that of ‘The Vitruvian Man’ (A famous painting by Leonardo Da Vinci). The positioning of the arms and legs were spot on. The only difference was that instead of the male in his birthday suit, here lay a female in her Punjabi suit. The baba, impressed with himself on taking down two adults in a space of 15 minutes went to the tap nearby and took some water in his palm and sprinkled it on the face of my aunt. Straight out a scene in some irritating Hindi movie, she opened her eyes and slowly got up. On getting up, she looked energetic enough to take on any athlete in the world and comfortably beat her. I looked back at the tap and couldn’t help but wonder if the water coming out of the tap was one of the ingredients used in the manufacturing of ‘Red Bull’. The rest of the visit to the Dargah went smoothly without any more incidents and we moved out towards the rickshaws that were parked downhill.

The Trip - Part 2

...contd from 'The Trip - Part 1'

With the crowd consisting a total of 6 females, the deadline of getting ready for the pooja in 60 minutes was practically impossible and there was another performance required to complete the feat. This time it was all 9 people sprinting towards the accommodation. We reached the reception desk and booked a couple of self contained rooms and rushed to get ready at top speed. The females took custody of all the washrooms as the males were pushed out of the rooms to get ready in the common bathrooms. We went to the receptionist and asked him if there was warm water available in the common bathrooms. The receptionist, with his head high said that ‘yes, we do have it'. Impressed by the facilities provided, I asked him where to get it. 'Not now', He said 'It is available from 5:00 to 07:00’. The answer enraged me to such an extent that in case my head was submerged in a bucket of water, we would get a bucket full of boiling water in no time. But being a former BPO employee, I was extremely good at smiling even after being enraged to the highest limit. I did the same and went to have my bath under the cold water shower already shivering just thinking about the prospect.

On returning to the room, I saw the second miracle of the day. The females were ready to leave for the pooja! I looked around the room and saw the females applying make up, combing their hair with utmost dedication. One was searching for the saree she bought specially for the trip and couldn’t help but ask ‘Are you girls trying to impress one of the poojaris?’ The answer was a simple stare from the senior ladies which was enough to shut me up until the time the pooja began. The pooja which was for the donation of food called the ‘Mahaprasad’ lasted for a whooping 90 minutes with the poojari chanting certain mantras which were even more difficult to decrypt than the jumbled words of the people surrounding me on Kalyan station. We finished pooja and had our well deserved lunch and went back to the rooms for some much needed rest. On reaching the rooms at approx 13:45 hrs, we were greeted by the same receptionist with a bright smile. Just to strike a short conversation, I asked him about the availability of electricity in the area. Once again flashing his million dollar smile, he proudly announced that they had 20 hours of electricity in the area. Impressed by the low amount of load shedding in the rural area, I asked him about the remaining four hours. The reply was a prompt one. 'There is no electricity in between 14:00 to 18:00 hrs'. I looked at the watch to find that it was already 13:59 and then turned my gaze to the picture of the saint hanging behind the reception desk. A bell rang again, this time it was from the wall clock hanging behind. It was 14:00 hrs and the heat in the region would never allow me to sleep without the comfort of the fans. The 'Test' was getting tougher…

We were scheduled to go for a tour of all the temples in the area at 17:00 hrs. So after forcing myself to read 70 pages of a novel and completing three visits to the kid selling Lemon Soda a few feet outside the hotel, I was able to crawl through the remaining three hours. The rickshaws arrived at 17:00 hrs sharp. Once again playing the contortionists, we squeezed five of us inside each rickshaw which this time was meant for 3 passengers only which was written behind the rickshaw in bold letters and yet was very conveniently ignored. Being the younger generation youths, we were the ones nominated to rub our shoulders with the driver sitting beside him who unfortunately was unaware of the priceless invention of man called ‘The Deodorant’.

Showing the capacity of a professional swimmer of holding my breath, we started towards our first and the most eventful destination. ‘The Dargah’

...to be continued

The Trip - Part 1

Standing on Kalyan station at midnight, I was set to leave for ‘Akkalkot’, a small village famous for the swami named ‘Shree Swami Samarth’ a.k.a ‘Akkalkot Swami’. It was nine hour long journey that lie in front of me and that too on board ‘The great Indian railways’ which I doubt any person looks forward too. I was supposed to travel via the Chennai express and for obvious reasons was surrounded by people who were talking in a language which was nothing more than jumbled words for my ears. The only people familiar were my family consisting of my mother, aunt (mother’s sister), her husband (my uncle of course), my cousin brother and sister and three of their acquaintances (all girls). In short we were making sure that we had enough crowd to let the lord take notice of us when we reached there. I watched my mother and aunt and found them silently chanting the name ‘Shree Swami Samarth’ in their minds and got a slight indication of the day that lay ahead. And the ladies didn’t disappoint.

After the grueling journey in the train, we got down on the Akkalkot Road station just to find that the platform for this station was nothing but an arrangement of tiles on the ground as the platform was a good 3 feet lower than the regular train platforms. I looked at the time and amazingly found it to be exactly the time promised by the railways (This was my first experience of the fact that this place was indeed capable of miracles). We crossed the tracks and out of the station looking for transport to get to the main temple. On leaving the station we saw a couple of six seater rickshaws (Dukkar as they are called in the parts of Kalyan and Dombivli) with the drivers looking expectantly at us as potential customers. Since there were nine of us, I figured that we would be requiring both the ‘Dukkars’ but was shocked when the drivers asked us to either pay the complete fare for both the vehicles which was close to Rs 450 or the other option was for all 9 of us to get into one single dukkar along with the two already seated inside and the driver o0f course for a fare of Rs 15 per person. There was no doubt which option was selected by the seniors and then I watched the amazing spectacle of how we middle class people can turn into professional contortionists and bring along the possibility of fitting a total of 12 people in a certain vehicle designed to fit only six people. After fitting ourselves in the dukkar we started the 10 Km journey to the temple and I prepared myself for the test but just like any test in my engg days, I had not prepared enough.

After completing the seemingly impossible journey we reached the temple gates at 10:05 hrs and my mother stepped out and ran into the temple at full speed leaving me both confused and astounded. Confused about the reason behind the sudden sprint and astounded at the speed that my mother was capable of. I got out the luggage and paid for the rickshaw and started waiting for my mother to be back as we had to book our rooms in the nearby accommodation facility built for the devotees visiting the temple. After a total of about 10 minutes she came back at the same speed and told me that she had registered for a pooja which was supposed to start in the next 60 minutes. I looked towards the temple and silently prayed for strength to get through the day that lay ahead. A bell rang inside the temple indicating that ‘The Test Begins’.

... To be continued

The 'WARRIOR'

I wake up just in time to witness the first ray of light slice through the pitch black darkness which engulfed the dark cellar, the cellar which had been my home for a long time now. Another night had passed by and another day lie in front of my eyes, another day which would be wasted, wasted in the hope that I would be set free, wasted in the hope that I would be remembered, remembered as the once ‘Flying Star’ who has been rendered a prisoner. ‘A PRISONER OF WAR’

I have always been a believer, a believer who never doubted in the existence of the Almighty because the so called ‘ALMIGHTY’ had always been against me. He was against me when I was separated from my mother in a bitter divorce. He was against me when my wife and kid were brutally murdered by a maniac who was one of the millions of people for whom I fought to protect. He was against me when the engine of my faithful Jet breathed its last when I was in enemy territory and I was chosen to be the one to watch my co-pilot and dear friend to be beheaded in front of my very own eyes. But one thing that the ‘Almighty’ forgot was that he was the one who created me and in me, he had created a ‘Survivor’.

But this time he seemed to be winning. All I was left with was hope, a hope that my nation would fight for me, the same nation that I had fought for, the same nation I had sacrificed my life for and I knew they would fight and fight hard. I had aged rapidly in the cellar. I had no idea how many days, months or years had passed by and I had no regrets. I knew that I would be free soon. My broad shoulders were slanting now, the bulging biceps had been a thing of the past and I had started walking with a slight bend. I never had been a socialite and had always stayed away from crowds but this scenario was worse even for a loner like me. The only human touch that I had was watching the hands slide the plate of food inside the cellar through the tiny inlet made in the door. The food was nothing more than edible and the plate, I doubt was even rinsed. There were times when the food tasted different. The difference was due to the sleeping pills mixed in it so as to render me unconscious so that the cellar could be cleaned. But I was still ready for him; I was ready to take him on. He had been successful in weakening the body. But He was unaware of the fact that with every single second, He was strengthening my soul. He was making me more and more determined. He was making me more and more strong and I was just waiting for the moment I would be freed from the cage of my body and I would be standing in front of him. Because this time I wouldn’t be the one answering, I wouldn’t be the one paying for my mistakes. It would be him and He had no other option than to repent. He was at fault and he had to confess. And He will, He surely will.

Suddenly the door creaked, a sound that I hadn’t heard for a long time now. I turned around and saw the door open slowly. There was light coming in; I had to shield my eyes as the light was too bright. I lowered my head to keep my eyes from stinging. I had so often heard people who claimed to be back from the dead, people who swear to have seen a bright light, a bright light which was supposed to be the kingdom, ‘The kingdom of GOD’. I was witnessing it now and I was ready. I looked back at the light and saw a figure standing there. My eyes still hurt and the figure wasn’t visible clearly. I could tell the figure was coming to take me away and I was ready. With a smile on my face, I close my eyes… It was time… Time for the real fight… And I would win because that is what I was destined to…

The symbol of '????'

India, a land of cultures, is also sometimes termed as a place where people think with their heart more than their brains. No surprises that India is home to the ultimate symbol of love ‘The Taj Mahal’, built by the mughal emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his beloved wife ‘Mumtaz Mahal’. This mausoleum which took well over two decades to be completed is indeed worthy of a place in the coveted ‘7 Wonders of the world’ with its marvelous tomb, the pinpoint precision with which the towers surrounding the tomb are built (It is said that all four towers do not have a single mm of a difference in their heights) and the enchanting feeling that you feel running across your entire body when you stand in the midst of the picturesque gardens is just the perfect icing on the cake one can ever ask for. But is it really ‘The symbol of love’

One of the longstanding myths surrounding the Taj Mahal (for which till date no evidence exists) states the horrific tale of the mutilations inflicted on the architects and the craftsmen who were associated with the building of the Taj. In case even a small portion of the myth holds true, then is the description of ‘The Taj’ being the ‘symbol of love’ justified? Agreed that it was made with an intention of building a monument for love, but what about the consequences faced by the people who dedicated a major portion of their lives construcying the dream of their beloved emperor. What about the mentality of an emperor who was so obsessed with having the most beautiful building in the world on his name and his name only? After all, the emperor had just dreamt of the building,those people converted it into reality. And as a token of appreciation for the completion of the dream project, they were punished and sadly they were punished for something that they deserved appreciation for…

Just to get the slightest of ideas of how their life would be, try wearing a shirt using just a single hand and you would get a slight idea of the pain and inconveniences that they would have gone through in their life after the horrific decision of their beloved emperor. However the realization would just be equivalent to a drop from the ocean of difficulties the poor chaps had to go through. and once again you would just be imagining it, those guys lived it.

But even after all these years, the scenario hasn’t changed one bit. Every modern world employee would raise their hand in confirmation for the statement that no matter how hard you work for the betterment of the company you are working for, the company never bothers. After all, along with the increasing success in the corporate world, there arises a hunger for more and more success. And unfortunately in today’s world the success is always counted in terms of the profits.

Compare the above few lines to the scenario of the ‘Taj Mahal’ and you get a crystal clear view of the fate of the people who keep thinking of the company above anything else. Love your company; I am not stopping you from doing so, But only the company that is profitable for you, because even the company follows the same policy.

It’s always better to keep the feeling mutual, Isn’t it?

Women

'WOMEN' tough to live with and impossible without. And what more even the parliament has to deal with them and that too 33% of the complete quota and why not? They are equally talented if not more in most departments (Driving excluded). No offense intended but seriously one day of driving on a crowded street sitting in the passenger seat and a woman driving the car, you will be searching Google for the admission form in my group called 'I love girls but not behind the ‘wheel’. Jokes apart, the Indian women have always proven themselves to be a strong force. After all the only two Indians to ever enter space have been women and there are many more examples but I don’t have the time or patience to go in detail on that subject.


Women have always been called the weaker sex. Hell no. Ask those people who have taken up drinking after being dumped or those who have spent a fortune on them just to find the girls footprints on their asses and they will tell you the real definition of the so called 'WOMEN POWER'. Ask the married guys the torture of sleeping on the sofa after a drink with friends or best of all ask all those singles out there who can do just about anything just after witnessing a wink from a girl who knows how its done...


The regular way of introducing one's wife is to call her 'The better half'. So true. After all she does make life better for a man. For instance, If we start planting a tree on behalf of every guy in Mumbai alone who has quit smoking or drinking on the insistence of a female, We might have our very own Rainy forest. The Idea isn’t bad looking at the stress on planting trees nowadays and hours and hours of watching celebrities go on and on about how nature friendly a lot they are.


There is a very frequently asked question which goes 'Why the hell did Adam eat the forbidden apple on the insistence of Eve?' The answer is simple. She was the only female on the planet and that too in her birthday suit. Imagine yourself in a similar situation and suddenly you will start sympathizing with Adam. Poor guy had to face disaster but he did get what most guys in the modern world wish for every single moment of their life. I am talking of the company of a female. No need to let your wildest imagination go haywire over that statement.


Wise people keep saying 'A women can either complete you or destroy you'. Perfect again. Having the most beautiful wife in the world completes you, but what about all the expenses to keep her beautiful (including make up, jewelry etc?) ‘DESTRUCTION GUARANTEED’. But each and every penny is obviously worth it. After all they are the one to stay with us in joys and sorrows and it’s obviously priceless. (All the ladies reading this please don’t use this statement as an excuse to increase their partners credit card bills).


One last proof of the 'WOMEN POWER' goes like this. The next time you are standing at a place, keep your eyes open for a decent enough lady walking. Once you get the perfect one, no matter how hard it is force yourself to take your eyes off her and take a look around for every male in the vicinity. You will get the perfect example of why you should always beware of a 'WOMAN' ;)


P.S: Let’s hope those ladies in the parliament help the politicians to have a change of heart and for a change think about the public too...