Laughing Flowers

MY BASEMENT PARKING PHILOSOPHY

2013-08-02T06:00:00.001-07:00

They installed motion sensor lights in our basement parking. It is a beautiful thing- saves a lot of electricity.

As you move towards your car, the lights flicker on, and turn off after a while..

The first day they did so, I enjoyed my walk to the car in my parking spot (furthest from the gate- of course!!) , an interesting thought occurred to me. Suppose I was afraid of the dark – of the unknown.. I’d never venture out towards my car because it would be too dark. And I’d never get to it, because it will always stay too dark. It is my action – my movement – that causes the lights to switch on. If I walk, the path lights up. If I do not walk, it stays dark. Is that not a lot how life is?

A big part of the plan, if there is any, is unknown to us. Life is a series of unknowns- and can be pretty scary. But when you know where your goal is, and when you have the conviction of moving towards it despite the dark – it is then that the lights switch on. It is our action- our determination to move on despite the darkness- that creates the light. We are the harbingers of light, and if we decide to wait for the whole path to be lighted before moving on- we might have to wait forever.

Those who do not walk to the unknown have a perfectly legitimate explanation- did it not stay dark forever? Were they not right by deciding not to walk into that abyss? It never lighted, afterall !!

Of course it never lighted- because you never walked.. The unknown will stay unknown – and frightening- unless you look at it in the eye and are prepared to meet and greet it like an old acquaintance. For it is at that point of time that the fearsome unknown turns in to an old acquaintance.

An ancient Sanskrit hymn says –“ Tamso ma jyotir gamay”, translated loosely as “ May I move from darkness to light”. It is a major paradigm shift to realize, that the lamp we want to walk towards, is us ourselves. And I have my motion sensor basement lights to thank for it.

Are you busy?

2013-07-08T12:18:00.001-07:00

It ‘s a busy life, as we jump from one activity to another. Paradoxically, in order to create the ideal, peaceful world that exists in only our mind. The IT manager struggles to meet his clients and his golf game (to meet more clients!), the recent graduate juggles deadlines and shopping lines, the working mother makes place for P.A. days in her crowded appointment diary…

As I peer out the window of my tenth floor flat overlooking highway 401, I see an endless stream of cars in a nonstop flow.

And then, I think about a question Eckhart Tolle asks his readers in his celebrated book,”The Power of Now”. Imagine all humans removed from the planet, and only plants and animals left behind. Imagine every man made structure removed as well, leaving only what is natural behind. In terms of civilizations as we define it today, this is probably a giant step backwards. But yet, it will be a place with zero stress, and infinite time. As Lao Tzu says, “Nature never hurries, yet accomplishes everything”.

You join a new job, and want to be the Employee of the Year in the first month. You have a baby, bless you, and can’t wait for her to attend university? Relationships break at record speed today; for who has time to slowly nurture them? Each year buzzes past, leaving behind a flurry of activities, and hardly any memories.

I find myself caught up in this rush a number of times. And then, I take time to remember that time is an illusion. It is created by the society that I live in- but it does not have to define me. I do not have to live by this society’s norms of success or it’s idea of time. Candles on my birthday cake are not my reflection. And just as I am done celebrating my independence of time, I get sucked in the activity-whirlpool again. Hopefully, with time, I’ll have better control over what I think…

Book Review- My Family and Other Animals.

2013-05-23T07:45:00.002-07:00

I stumbled upon “ My Family and Other Animals” quite by chance. Eager to find something good and easy to read, I picked it up from the Raves and Faves section of my library. Good- it sure was; easy- not so much! The book grasped my attention from the first page, and held it till the last.

My Family And Other Animals retells the experiences of world famous zoologist Gerald Durell, when he was all of 10 years old living in the greek island of Corfu. It takes you through his magical childhood, a childhood that anyone would envy. As you read the book, Gerald’s family and his love for various animals take almost a real shape as they live out their enchanting lives in the pages of this unstoppable book. Also worth mentioning is the author’s mastery of language and use of powerful similes.

The narrative starts with the family – Gerald, his siblings and his widow mother in England- sick of the typical English weather. The eldest brother- Larry, suggests they move to greek island of Corfu- for the sunshine and lower costs of living, and the adventure begins… The Author’s wit and humour fills the pages as the reader moves with the family exploring their new surrounding, and looking for a suitable house to live in. Through a sequence of events, we meet and become intimate with Gerald’s family- the unassuming mother, the stoic eldest brother Larry, the adventurous middle brother Louise, and the pompous sister, Margo. The beauty of the book lies in the fact that it strictly depicts the life as the author saw it as a 10 year old- so anything not important to the child Gerrald finds no place in the book. This spares the reader of irrelevant details, and showers him instead with the charm that only the curious eyes of a child can see in the mundane.

As Gerrald, or Garry as everyone calls him, moves around exploring this brave new world, he makes friends with local peasents and people, and also the local flora and fauna. The author describes his discoveries of various small animals- butterflies, bees, lizards, spiders , tortoises and even water snakes, gulls, and magpies with such observant detail that the reader can visualize it for himself or herself. Sample this-“ I discovered that under the dry leaves of the fuchsia hedge lived another type of spider, a fierce little huntsman with the cunning and ferocity of a tiger. He would stalk about his continent of leaves, eyes glistening in the sun, pausing now and then to raise his hairy legs to peer about”. In countless such lines, paragraphs and chapters, Garry paints for us a vivid picture of the island teaming with life. As I read this book, I realized how little I know of other species that co-inhabit Earth with us, and how much indeed goes on in their lives, just as in ours. Garry is able to turn his fascination of animals into something contagious, and the reader feels compelled to look outside the brick and cement urban jungle and wonder about the larger, uncovered life in the rest of the planet.

The only downside of this book might be its’ language. The flowery and descriptive language that Gerrald chooses to employ has both pros and cons. On one hand, he reader is given ample literary aids to help him visualize each and every species and other stuff Garry comes in contact with. Even those readers with limited knowledge of animals, such as me, can paint a picture of the life of the island. On the other hand, Garry often goes overboard with his descriptions. It takes a lot of time and patience for a reader to understand and imagine the scene. Often I had to read a line twice or thrice to get the point beyond the similes and metaphors. For example, when Garry would describe a scorpion thus- “ They were weird looking little things, with their flattened oval bodies, their neat crooked legs, and enormous crab like claws, bulbous and neatly joined as armour, and tail like a string of brown beads ending in a sting like a rose-thorn.”

All in all, My Family and other Animals is a must-read book, though the language might require the reader to be at least a teenager. I do appreciate why the librarians put it in the ‘Raves and Faves’ section.

दीवाली

2012-11-13T05:51:00.001-08:00

प्रयत्न जारी है -

उत्सव है,

ढूँढू मन में उत्साह कहीं ....

बीते पर्वो से पाऊँ

ऊंघती सी उमंग कहीं

उत्सव है।

ना रंग कहीं, ना हुडदंग कहीं

असीम उल्लास का उदगार नहीं।

है ये या है त्यौहार नहीं ?

कदन थके

थिरके क्या किस ताल पर?

एकला हो जब संसार में,

तो नृत्य कैसा?

पर,

उत्सव है।

मेरे कैलेंडर पर आज की तारीख में

सुगंध है -

अनगिन जले पटाखों की

माँ की रसोई के पकवानों की

अंतहीन मेहमानों की

चुप है संसार,

मगर मेरी यादों में आज शोर है

संगीत चारों ओर है

आखिर

आज उत्सव है।

2012-07-09T06:04:00.002-07:00

MARRIAGE TODAY.

It is , as if each one of us was made incomplete. And we long for completeness. We long for another person, who could complement and complete us. We long to cherish, and be cherished, and soak each moment in true love. Quite a dream! The closest real-life relative of such a companionship is Marriage.

The ancient Hindu way of arranging marriages involved a comparison of the Natal Charts of the two interested partners. The essential idea behind this exercise is simple- People are not right or wrong, but are either compatible, or not with each other. And when one does find a partner that he or she feels comfortable and compatible with, marriage becomes a beautiful reality.

A few people look at marriage as the ultimate restriction. But really, it is liberation. As you walk down the inscrutable path of life, you can be sure of your spouse right behind you. Marriage is an insurance of friendship, togetherness and lifelong companionship. It is a promise to hold onto one another during pleasant breezes, and ripping tornadoes. How liberating can such an unrelenting support be!

In real life though, even the best marriages can sometimes turn mundane, predictable, or worse, lifeless. Yet, if there initially was compatibility and love, all these are but obstacles to overcome and invitations to rejuvenate a relationship that lasts a life time. Some may say, even more.

Marriage is easily the single most important decision of one’s life. True marriages are a coupling of souls – where you find your room-mate and soul-mate, friend and family, all rolled into a single person. When daily chores become an expression of love for each other, and intimacy becomes a cosmic dance, When you complement, compensate and complete each other, then marriage is the single best blessing one can get. This is the perfect marriage. Almost non-existent too.

Marriage is a beautiful experience, and an amazingly peaceful state of life, if entered with the right person and the right expectations. On the other hand, it can also be a soul-destroying life sentence. The stakes are high enough to be a deterrent, one would suppose. But yet, one finds so many young people getting into wedlock for all the wrong reasons. One must remember, marriage is NOT defined as the state of acting to be together as a reaction to active hormones, for the sake of old age security, ensuring two parents for present or future children, social comfort or emotional insurance. Marriage is promise of a partnership- the most beautiful promise ever made.

Like any other partnership, the quality of one’s marriage depends on the partner one chooses. Finding Mr. or Ms. Right appears to be the toughest task. The idea is not to look for Mr. or Ms. Perfect, but for Mr. or Ms. Perfect-for-me. We must look for a match that completes us like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Where you can still be yourself, and yet feel completely in place. A relationship that demands you to change into someone else – is not worth sacrificing a lifetime for.

Real marriages are more like a game of poker – some skill, some love, and some luck. It is a risky proposition – but also one that offers great returns. For what could be greater than growing old together with a good friend. Of course, the ‘real’ marriage will also need a lot of work. But the work is a labor of love as a couple works together to reach the ever-elusive but promising, destination of true love and companionship.

तुम मेरा सपना हो

2012-06-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

तुम मेरा सपना हो

पल पल आकार लेता,

साकार होता.

भरसक प्रयत्न कर होते खड़े

हो मेरे लिए हर विजय स्तंभ से बढ़े

निश्छल नयनों से ह्दय जीतता

तुम कल्पना चित्र मेरा

पल पल रंग भरता

दंग करता

तेरे नन्हे से चहरे में

सचमुच सारा जग देखा है

कितना आसान तृप्त होना

मैनें तुमसे ये सीखा है

तुम्हें बनाते पुनः बनी मैं भी

तुम सर्वोत्तम शिल्प मेरा

पल पल रूप लेता,

अनूप होता.

n गरिमा गुप्ता

mahabharata

2012-06-20T08:49:00.000-07:00

I am now writing stories of Mahabharata. Mahabharata- a story of princely valor, virtues and bravery and of cheating , jealousy and lies. This epic story is set in ancient Indian kingdom of Hastinapur when the kings ruled the earth, humans shared the land with other magical creatures and magic was not uncommon….

Mahabharata is a story told and re-told over many ages in India among Hindus. However, this captivating saga has never been captured for a young audience in the format of goodnight stories. My retelling of Mahabharata covers this amazing adventure, spanning five generations of kings, in a collection of night time stories. Each night time story, complete in its own right, leads to another, and as the climax builds up, the stories get richer and thicker!

These stories will introduce the readers to a new and exciting world – where Gods, sages and demons existed side by side with humans, and fought a mega-war with magical weapons.Here, the various layers of the legendary characters of the original epic are treated with respect, yet simplified for an audience who will hear this epic for the first time.

My Mahabharata intends to be the first introduction of a child to Indian mythology, and to the rich texture of lives of an era bygone.

Find the stories on the mahabharata tab on the right navigation pane ->

2012-06-20T08:35:00.001-07:00

Story 4: Kunti and Karna.

The unwanted baby.

When Kunti was just a teenage girl, Sage Durvaasa had given her a magical mantra (that a spell). Using this mantra, she could ask any of the Gods to come to her and present her a child. Young as she was, Kunti doubted if such a mantra could ever work.

“Let me test it”, said Kunti to herself one evening. She uttered the magical mantra and called upon the Sun God, Surya. Surya came with a child in his hand. The extraordinary infant was radiant and powerful, as one would expect. He was adorned with gold earrings and armour. Kunti was aghast!

“O Surya! I am myself a little girl. I only wanted to test the power of this mantra. I do not desire motherhood at all! Please forgive my mistake.” But Surya could not take the baby back, and Kunti could not keep it.

To keep this a secret, Kunti hid the newborn in a basket, and set it afloat on a river. She hoped that a kind family would chance upon the baby, and adopt it.

Luckily, that did happen. A childless charioteer named Adirath was passing by the river, when he saw a basket floating by. Curiously, he looked inside – and what should he find?? There was a baby in – adorned by glittering armour and earrings, and smiling peacefully. Adirath took this child as a gift from the Gods, and brought it home to his wife , Radha.

“IS this for real?”, Radha asked, with tears welling up in her eyes. “This child, will it be mine – forever? I’m supposed to his mother – Isn’t it?”. She was overwhelmed with happiness.

Lovingly, the couple took care of the little baby, and gave him all the love that one would expect of parents. The baby was named ‘Karna’ – which means ears or earrings. Though born a prince to a glorious princess and a God himself, Karna grew with his adopted parents- and respected them immensely. He was often called and mocked upon as a “Soot-putra” – son of a lowly worker. But his innate qualities made Karna a very important character in Mahabharata.

2012-06-20T08:34:00.001-07:00

Story 3: Next Generation

The two brothers.

Satyavati bargained hard, and got the promise of the mighty Hastinapur for her sons. But that was not to be.

King Shantanu died of a grieving heart, and a sense of unfulfilled duty not long after Satyavati gave birth to his two sons. These children were ordained to be the king of Hastinapur. However they died early too, leaving no heirs to the coveted throne of Hastinapur.

For the first time in history, Hastinapur was at crossroads. An impressive kingdom – with no one to rule it. The very capable Bheeshma had vowed to never become the king, and Satyavati’s sons had died an untimely death! The throne of Hastinapur was empty because of one woman’s ambition and greed.

A solution to this problem was soon arrived at. A great sage, Ved Vyas, was called upon. Ved Vyas then obtained grandsons for Satyavati. But as fate would have it, not even one of these grandsons were anywhere close to great kings of the lunar dynasty.

Dhritrashtra – the eldest one, was born blind.

Pandu – the middle one, was born pale and weak.

Vidur – the youngest one, healthy and wise, was born of a maid.

Bheeshma oversaw the development of these princes with great care. He imagined getting them married to beautiful, intelligent princesses, and eventually hoped for an offspring that would be worthy of the throne of Hastinapur. Little did he know, that the children of Dhritrashtra and Pandu he was wishing so desperately for, will bring down the whole kingdom.

Bheeshma was keen on getting blind Dhritrashtra married to an intelligent princess. He heard about the princess of the kingdom of Gandhaar (now known as Kandahar in modern Afghanistaan).

Keen to get the princess for Dhritraastra, Bheeshma forced the king of Gandhaar to marry his daughter to the blind prince of Hastinapur. Afraid of Bheeshma and Hastinapur wrath, the hapless king agreed.

The princess Gandhaari and her brother, Shakuni were enraged, but couldn’t do much. As a silent protest, Gandhaari took a public vow to blindfold herself for life. “The man I’m getting married to”, she said, “ can not see. As his wife, so won’t I.”

Her brother, Prince Shakuni, had other ideas. “I shall destroy the proud kingdom of Hastinapur , that forced my innocent sister into an unwanted marriage”, he promised to himself.

And so Dhritraastra got married to a blindfolded Gandhaari.

Pandu, meanwhile, was crowned the king the Hastinapur. He got married to two princesses, Kunti and Madri. Of these, Kunti held a very special boon given to her by a sage named Durvaasa. This special boon resulted in a very special situation..

2012-06-20T08:32:00.003-07:00

Story 2: The Arrival Of Bheeshma
Devvrata can not be the king!

As time passed, Shantanu forgot Ganga, and enjoyed the company of his remarkable son. One day, as he walked by a river again, he came across a most strange, and captivating smell. The fragnace was emanating from a beautiful , dark fisherwoman named Satya-vati. “Will the king care to sit in my humble boat and cross the river?” , asked the fisherwoman with the musky fragnance. King Shanatanu could not say no, and took a ride on her boat. Satyavati was a beautiful and intelligent woman, blessed with a natural fragnance. The king fell in love with her, and asked her hand in marriage.

This was the start of the fall of the mighty kingdom, Hastinapur.

Satyavati and her father, the fisherman, asked Shantanu to promise that Satyavatis children would be crowned king after Shantanu. But then, what will happen to Devavrata?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the next king of Hastinapur? Shantanu could not accept this unfair condition of the fisherman, and broken hearted, returned to his palace.

Devavrata soon came to know of his father’s love for the fisherwoman, Satyavati, and the fisherman’s condition. Like a devoted son, all Devavrata wanted was that his father be happy. And he decided to take matters in his own hands.

Prince Devavrata went to meet the fisherman and his daughter. “I must obtain Satyavati for my father’s happiness”, he thought. But the fisherman wasn’t impressed. “You may be a prince, and Shantanu may be a king”, he said. “But my daughter is a mere fishergirl. You must promise me that her children will be the future kings of Hastinapur- not you or your children. Only then, will people of Hastinapur respect my daughter as their queen.”

Blinded by the love for his father, Devavrata made three great promises that night.

“I promise”, the crown prince Devavrata declared, “to never be the king of Hastinapur. Let Satyavatis children ascend the throne that was supposed to be mine till now.”

“I promise”, Devavrata further continued, “ to never marry, so that none of my children can ever challenge Satyavatis.”

“And”, he promised to the people of Hastinapur, “I’ll always help whoever becomes the king of Hastinapur, and will always take care of Hastinapur as the king’s aide.”

These were huge promises. These promises changed the life of Devavrata, and the fortunes of Hastinapur. People started calling Devavrata by another name – Bheeshma, which means terrible or huge (referring to his promise).

2012-06-20T08:31:00.004-07:00

Story 1: How it all started.
King Shantanu.

The people of Hastinapur (has-ti-naa-pur) considered themselves lucky. Their kings- from the Lunar dynasty- had been kind and virtuous. All the previous kings were brave and caring, and the current ruler, King Shantanu, was no different. The only thing people of Hastinapur wished for now was a queen worthy enough for King Shantanu. Their hopes were soon fulfilled.

King Shantanu met a beautiful woman on the banks of a river. The woman, named Ganga, was grace and beauty personified. She walked effortlessly, as if gliding on the land. She spoke with warmth of a winter sun, and had a beauty so effervescent that it seemed divine. King Shantanu fell in love with Ganga the moment he saw her, and asked her to marry him.

However, Ganga wasn’t so sure. “O King! I’ve heard of you and your greatness”, she said. “But I’m afraid to marry you. As your wife, you will put restrictions on me. You will not let me live as freely as I love to. I’m honoured by your proposal, King Shantanu, but I value my freedom greatly.”

To this, the king assured Ganga, that he loves her, and will care for her happiness more than anything else. But Ganga wasn’t satisfied. She agreed to marry Shantanu only after he promised her that he will never question her or stop her from doing anything. “Such a graceful, innocent woman she is”, thought Shantanu. “What harm in promising her complete freedom!” Little did he know of Ganga’s plans…

King Shantanu and Ganga were married in a grand ceremony. The king, and people of Hastinapur, were extremely happy to have Ganga as their queen. Soon after their marriage, Ganga gave birth to a son. But then, she quietly took the son to a river, and drowned him in front of a bewildered Shantanu’s eyes. Bound by his promise, the king could do nothing but wonder and grieve for his lost child. The same events repeated six more times!! Shantanu couldn’t believe his eyes – but could neither stop nor question Ganga about her actions! As Ganga was about to drown their eight child, King Shanatanu could see it no more. He had to stop this madness!!

“Stop Ganga!!”, shouted Shantanu. “Why are you killing our innocent children like this? Please stop! Spare my son!”

Ganga smiled in the most heavenly ways. “I am no ordinary woman, O King, and those children were no ordinary children either. They were sages (learned higher beings) , cursed to appear in the human form on this earth. I married you to help those sages escape a human life. This eight child of yours, however, is different. He will live on, and lead an illustrious life unlike any other human on the Earth.” Saying this, Ganga handed over the infant to King Shantanu, and disappeared in the river herself.

Shantanu named this child Dev-vrata – the promise of Gods. Devavrata was an exceptionally bright child- skilled in every art and science, and devoted to his kingdom and his father. The people of Hastinapur had found a worthy successor to their long line of illustrious kings..

Slower!!

2011-10-16T05:50:00.000-07:00

Blissful, lazy, Sunday morning,

Slow and sweet.

Why should a Monday

must it meet?

The speed of life tires me out.

Is it just me, or everyone about?

The wait, the walk, the leisurely talk,

lost in a race, drowned in a shout...

Childhood was meant to watch the seagulls.

to count the rocks, leaves, and loose papers.

but classes and lessons now crowd the mind-

Butterflies have gone, all changed into eagles!

Slower - I scream, and the world frowns,

Push! Shove! Run! They announce.

They hurry and speed. Athletes, they assume

To me, somehow, they look like clowns!

in favour of jan lokpal bill

2011-10-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

Some things happen only in India. Chai Paani. Under the table. Diwaali ki mithai – baccho ke liye!!!

Could you find an Indian who does not know the real meaning of these statements? Corruption is often called a disease. Well, in our case, it is the infection that has spread to the very blood of the society. It is no more a malignancy, it has become a cancer that threatens the very survival of everything sacred that we know as India.

What do you do when cancer strikes? Ignore it, Deny it – and it will only spread with a vengeance. You can take an extreme step – and consider cutting off the infected part- but what can you do if the whole body – the whole system is infected. You need a revolutionary therapy. A treatment that may be as painful as the disease itself….. And you need hope. Jan Lokpal Bill , I believe, is that hope.

Jan Lokpal Bill is no toothless tiger. It promises that Lokpal and lokayukta will ensure rapid action against the corrupt. It foresees penalties for guilty officers if a work doesn’t get done n a government office in prescribed timeframes. And most importantly, it allows the recovery of the ill-gotten wealth at the time of conviction.
The most recent global financial integrity study estimated that about 71 lakh crore rupees of our money is stashed up in Swiss Bank and other havens of black money. Imagine even half of that money being recovered and put in good use. Imagine better roads, no hunger, low taxes. Imagine free education, cheap medicines, public parks. It is not a dream. It is a goal we all must work hard to achieve. It is an ambition worth fighting for. I appeal to all of you present here – India is our country. Let’s not give up on it. Let’s not give up our hopes.

I understand if some of us don’t believe in Jan Lokpal Bill. This distrust breeds out of years of successive failures. Laws are routinely mended for the convenience of the law-breakers. It is easy to believe that LJP will meet the same fete. But my friends, losing hope is no answer. Jan Lokpal Bill is a bill, brought about by people like you and me, and not the government. It is a bill drafted by the likes of shri Anna Hazare, Kiran Bedi and ashok kejriwal. These people are our new age heroes. Let’s support them will all our heart, and walk towards the faint light at the end of the tunnel. This faint light, my friends, is messenger of the morning.

A Prayer for students

2011-03-29T16:27:00.000-07:00

God!

Give me love n my heart

To spread around

Give m e strength in my arms

To be tender.

Give me wisdom

To ask questions

Give me confidence

To take risks

Give me an untiring spirit, O God,

That helps me grow through each challenge.

Amen.

litmus paper

2011-03-29T16:26:00.001-07:00

I’m so sad- I feel really blue

Squeeze a lemon on me, will you?

I’ll be glad- almost red,

Unless soap brings back my hue.

Am I ?

2010-02-14T08:15:00.000-08:00

Am I austere with emotions??

Is threat of pain
more painful than the pain itself?

And the promise of love
much larger than love?

Six Hours To Dinner.

2010-01-31T22:37:00.000-08:00

“Could you not boil the cauliflower a little bit?” he said, irritation abound in his voice. Mridu shivered. The lunch has just started. Somesh has not even started eating; he has only served the food onto his plate. These ‘suggestions’, as
Somesh liked to call them, will continue through out the meal.
“It only takes one whistle in the cooker, you know!”
Somesh was not a bad husband at all. At times, Mridu even liked him. And he was a doting father to their 3 month old. But he was very particular about his food, and way short of patient. Somesh said something about the chapattis undercooked. Mridula fought back the emotions building up in her throat. She wanted to say that she’ll remember that next time, but couldn’t. Her voice would probably choke of emotions, she thought. Not that Somesh would notice, Mridu knows by experience. Her silence fueled Somesh some more.
“But why would you?? You just don’t want anyone to enjoy their food, do you? You derive sadistic pleasure from my plight. “
Mridu had left the water jug in the kitchen for precisely this moment. She got up from her chair and rushed to the kitchen. She wiped her dry eyes. Why should one need to wipe dry eyes ? May be it’s psychological. It’s like giving a threat to the tears, welling up somewhere in a dark, unseen corner of the eye. .”Don’t you dare come out in the open!!” Mridu fetched the water jug, and goes back. Back for more insults…
But she was lucky today. A phone rang – someone from office. Indeed, Somesh left the table to attend the call. Mridu quickly gulped down her lunch. She must finish before the call ends so that she can excuse herself to look after the baby, and the daily ordeal would end.
The call was too short to allow that, but it must have been something really urgent – it took his mind off the cauliflower. Somesh started to discuss about someone’s resignation at office. Mridu felt relaxed. She felt nostalgic. She had forgotten how it felt like discussing something other then food at dinner table. Back home, when she was in school, mealtimes used to be her favorite. The whole family sat down to eat together, as Ma made hot chapattis for them. They never talked food; it was always something else – School, Politics, Relatives, Maids, Neighbours, Dreams, Plans – Anything, but never Food. Was Ma a perfect cook? Sometimes, she remembers, the food was less than good, but no one criticized Ma. They would say, for example, Pass the salt. Mridu had never instead heard Papa say – “So you have forgotten to put the salt in sabji? Can’t you pay a little more attention to food! Careless as ever.” Until after marriage, that is.
She also remembers her first time ever in the kitchen cooking. She had made dal, without Ma’s help. Everyone was eagerly waiting. They all cheered as she got the bowl of dal out in the dining area. “How Delicious, so much better than your Ma’s”, Papa had remarked teasingly. Mom smiled proudly, as if he was congratulating her. How vivid the memories are, when her elder brother said –“It’s perfect, except for one little detail”. Almost defensively he had added that the dal was not a homogenous mixture of water, pulses and spices, as it is supposed to be. How angry she had been with him, for ruining her First-Dish-I-made-Day with such insensitivity. How little she knew then…
This train of thoughts is broken abruptly by Somesh’s raised voice. His demanding eyes are waiting for an answer to the question Mridu hasn’t even heard.
“Are you deaf? Shall we go for a checkup?” He says, sarcastically.
It’s like a ‘fast forward to Present’ for Mridula. She manages a polite “What?” Somesh wants more sugar. The kheer is bland, he informs. Why hasn’t she put more dry-fruits in it, he wants to know. And the almonds were not even peeled, he adds as he shuts the door. Office Beckons.
Mridula takes a deep breath, and reaches for her baby. She’s sound asleep in the crib, a picture of peace. Mridula smiles, and calculates. Ii is six hours to dinner.

-Garima

Tumhari Amrita

2009-12-08T01:39:00.000-08:00

'Tumhari Amrita' - one of the most celebrated plays of the 'Old World Indian Theatre'. Saw it yesterday at Epicentre, Gurgaon. Shabana Azmi and Farooq Shiekh play two friends-lovers-pen friends with a 35 year long relationship - all explored through letters.

To keep it simple, I liked it. I liked Shabana's emoting, and the playwright's senstiveness. But what I really liked is that it got me thinking. What is a modern woman? Is rule-breaking and following your heart really a 'modern' thing? We are so dependent on relationships for happiness. Is it right? Is it needed? Is it a must, to have that special someone in your life to make it complete? Can not be a person be complete all by him/herself, just defined by his work/character, and not by the relations he keeps.

Are women more emtionally dependent on men ? Do I, as a woman, feel the same need of support and love that ladies of centuries ago felt? And if this need and this feeling is so basic - so natural , than what has the modernization given us?

Society dictates the role of people even today. Norms are set for men and women to follow. NO amount of education or financial freedom changes that. And when someone does rebel against these set norms, what does that person really get - Heartbreak? Like Amrita?

Haryana Elections and Kids

2009-11-12T23:26:00.001-08:00

It is election time in Haryana, and festival time all over. I can not forget this, because sound waves scream and shout and remind me of this. As I sit in my cosy, calm, Gurgaon home, these rude airwaves barge into my private space. They don’t have the decency to ring the bell or knock the door- they just scatter all over like cats, and immediately own the place!

I am trying to get Medha, my daughter, to do her Homework. But my ears defy me – and force my attention to the Congress candidates’ CV. As I ask her to ponder over her spellings, I find myself pondering over another ‘pratyashi’, who is supposedly the favourite of 15 sub-castes.

Why must I endure all this ruthless canvassing and loud music when I don’t want to? True, the airwaves belong to one and all, but can there not be a way to selectively tune only to the ones that matter. Can science provide me with earplugs that lets in the guest airwaves, and keeps out the intruders? Can I get a sound-filter installed- preferably in my earrings – to avoid being woken up by Diwali dhamakas year after year? Can Meditation give me such control over my senses?

As I wonder about such life-changing questions, I realize that Medha took advantage of the opportunity and has run away. She has given me – and her Homework a slip – and has switched on the T.V. , I call out for her, I shout, but it’s no use. She is now engrossed in the cartoons; she simply doesn’t hear me.

May be she knows something that I don’t ?

Class Apart

2009-03-17T15:10:00.000-07:00

It is now 2 months since I started 'Class Apart' , a general knowledge and Awareness increasing programme for children aged 5-10. I look back at my decision to start this class, and feel satisfied, and hungry for more! That I have a way wit the kids was never a secret, but the success and enthusiasm of my students surprised me... They welcome each topic, every week, with such insatiable curiousity, that it becomes a pleasure to serve them more and more of knowledge...
Such wonderful time childhood is..
I now plan to start a summer camp in my apartments during the summer break.. Insha Allah, this time my attempts will fruitify to their full potential.

Terror in Mumbai, Anger in my Heart.

2008-11-27T23:11:00.000-08:00

Mumbai, 27/11/2008. It's an attack on us. We must fight back. But who are "Us and We" ? and who are "They" ?

My brother lives in Mumbai, and works 5 mins away from the Oberoi. As a knee jerk reaction, I called him, and only when I was assured of his and his family's safety, I could think of anything else. The first "us" is family.

But the next? The wider ? I feel and write this not as a Hindu or Indian. I write it as a human being. as an earthling. I feel as if demons have descended on us from another planet... It is hard to believe that a fellow human being can do any act as
ghastly as this on anyone else!!!

Killing people totally innocent , just to get figures... to make impact, to underline a statement, and to grab attention - which religion teaches this? Which religion can possibly advocate massacre the likes of which is seen in Mumbai ?
I think of people sitting in CST waiting room, roaming on platforms, waiting outside a cafe, sipping coffee in restaurants, or strolling in hotel lobbies. These people have lives!! people who were killed, just as if they meant nothing. They meant
everything, everything to their families! Each one of these people had a thousand dreams, a thousand acquaintances, a thousand colours, and loves, and a thousand lives they touched! How can you, in name of a faith, cut these thousand threads of affection by one bullet?? What explanation can a terrorist give to a mother? Can revenge be an answer enough to life long tears? Can hatred be an excuse enough to a torn life?

I know not if I'm angry at feeling helpless, or helpless about feeling angry. I know not if this will be enough for us to start building a safeguard around us. I know not what is 'us' and what is the safeguard ? I know only, that I am ready to be included in any "us" that promotes love, peace and tranquiility in my Earth. And I know that hatred and Revenge are my enemies. Even against people who are commiting these horrendous acts...

It is probably better to be animals. They are not tied up in chains of religion that takes away the ability of seeing your own species as your own.

Gurgaon.. My new Home

2008-10-31T11:44:00.000-07:00

I am now officially settled in Gurgaon. It has been over 45 days now, and a lot has been seen and done in these days. My first impression of the city wasn't too good- and am still trying hard to like it. Gurgaon gives an impression of a talented, but unattended child. Pockets of developments are overshadowed by vast wastelands, and lack of public transport(!!) and sewer lines is just the starting...

But not all hope is lost. I see the creme de la creme of indian professional scene here. I see good schools. (My kids are going to Scottish High and D.P.S. - so far, so good. ) I also see some great fashion around. I see Huda working on roads and sewer lines. I see Metro coming up. But yet, the final feeling is of disappointment..

I've been to a number of shopping malls since shifting here. Gurgaon, afterall, is hailed as India's mall center. I also went to the Galleria ( a mid-sized open baazar) and sadar, the authentic old Gurgaon market. One, though , acutely feels the lack of town planning in every step. A good middle- class market, like Karol Bagh/Lajpat Nagar in Delhi or Jaynagar 4th Block/ Gandhinagar in Bangalore is completely absent. Good, inexpensive dining options are absent. I wonder if I need to explore some more.

Gurgaon feels like an example of imbalance between private aspirations and Government apathy. Posh, multistoreyed, luxury apartments overlook vast empty lands with stagnant water breeding Dengue mosquitoes. The ever prevelant gap between the haves and the have-nots seems much wider here. Or have I turned more observant??

Time Journal, and its' use.

2008-08-04T06:29:00.000-07:00

Here is a classic 'Time journal' or a 'day log'. This journal is used to capture the lost titbits of time- The time that is lost in doing 'nothing'.

Instructions: Spend a faithful day with the Time Journal. Log in every detail religiously, but do not change your routine on that account. This simple excercise is extremely effective as a Time Management tool. It acts as a mirror, and shows us our pitfalls, and also the glory that can be achieved once the shortcomings are overcome.

Click to see the time Journal

You run like a Tiger!

2008-08-03T00:13:00.000-07:00

You run like a tiger
On to my lap, so gay
This pants is small too, Ma,
Proudly you say.

Buy me new shoes too,
Says the twinkle in your eye
I’m growing up, you know Ma
I’ll soon be very high.

“tall”, I correct, channeling
My sadness into pride
Wish I could stop the time
Wish I could turn the tide.

Tolerating Intolerance

2008-08-01T12:03:00.000-07:00

Let me share with you two very striking news stories I read lately.

The first one is concerning Road Rage. Road Rage is a well defined word, and wikipedia defines it as violent behavior by a driver of an automobile. As traffic situation worsens, we see more and more of these cases around us.

I also read about the increasing number of divorces in the new age India, specially among the young couples. Divorces are now more likely to happen in the first two years of marriage, and on much softer issues than ever before.

Both these phenomenons indicate towards a critical pattern in our society - Our lessening tolerance levels.

Are tolerance levels in our society going down? Are we, as a collective people, becoming more and more prone to short temperedness and explosive outbursts? I bet we are.

The examples are aplenty. All around me, I see working mothers on the edge of their patience, celebrities losing their temper at a whim, and world meets failing. The important question here is - Why?

I have often heard an old age adage - " To err is human , to forgive divine". It seems that we have forgotten forgiveness. Why?

I believe the reason lies in the fast track lifestyle changes we have made in the last century. The human race has seen more development in last 100 years than in thousands of years put together. This puts enormous pressure on us to catch up. More than that it affects our quality of life. Life probably seems easier today- what with all household appliances, faster means of transport and instant communications. But that is just an optical illusion. Life has become faster, and we are losing the sense of time. We forget that life is not a race, but a stroll, a walk through the years. It is definitely not a competition. The demands and schedules are so tight, it leaves no place for peace and patience. When parents have no time for their children, no gadget can replace the emptiness a child feels. No VCD can take place of a bedtime story in soothing mother's voice. Spending time leisurely is a basic human need, And as this need is not realized, the tempers rise, the tolerance falls.

I also want to bring to your attention a very different point here. Intolerance is not always wrong. Indeed, in many case

Intolerance breeds Development. India has been an extremely tolerant society historically, and in many ways, it is because of htis tolerance, that we have lagged behind the rest of the world in development. External powers have used our tolerance as our weakness. Take an example- You are sitting in a reserved coach of a train, and a man comes in without reservation. He smiles at you, and requests a place to sit. "Adjust, sir!"

He'll say, and we tolerate this rule-breaking as another part of life. May be we'll even feel proud of ourselves, helping a fellow citizen in his hour of need. MAy be we'll resolve to use this tactic next time ourselves. Intolerance, here, would have been definitely a better option.

This ofcourse, does not vaidates the aggresive nature of some. I daresay that a little love and patience would do our world much more good than humdred inventions put together.

It is a very sad realization, that out society is losing the very tolerance that has sustained it through the turbulent centuries. We need to ensure that we do not become part of this vicious circle. Just like anger, love and peace spreads too. Our tranquility will infuse tranquility in people around us.