Today!

150+ innocents dead in Gaza, 250+ dead in a plane crash allegedly brought down by pro-Russian rebel forces or Ukranians...and this is just the tip of the iceberg. This is the world we live in. A place where the lives of innocents don't matter and the technology that helps us make our lives better is used in the most unfathomably brutal ways. Everytime I open the awesome app that gives me updates on news from all over the world, I shudder in disbelief as gruesome photos and headlines light up my screen. But for what? Why all this fighting and why all this death? Isn't life complicated enough to deal with? Boyfriend troubles, not being able to find a job or save up enough for a car, don't these troubles keep everyone preoccupied enough?

Yes, the juxtaposition of these issues is grotesque. But such is life today. We sit in our air-conditioned homes, flipping through the news on our tablets, getting disturbed momentarily and posting a new status on facebook about how this world is such a horrible place to live in, and within the next five minutes we are back to worrying about what to cook for dinner or how to save up enough to buy that new unnecessary gadget that just came out in the market.

But what can we do sitting so far away from all of this? And it's true. There is probably not much that we can do being so far removed from that world which we see through the portal of our computer screens and the internet. But what we can do is remember, reflect and pay happiness forward. We can find happiness, leave the anger behind... volunteer at a local organization to help collect aid for the victims of such events, go to that public demonstration against violence against women, sign petitions to support free journalism...and so many more small seemingly trivial things that may not stop the wars or the deaths, but it will help us to remember and more than anything it will help us to appreciate those things that we take for granted - the ability to smell fresh flowers, the ability to play freely on the beach, the ability to laugh and have a good time with our friends and families, and the ability to smile, laugh and live!

Chasing shadows

That feeling...the dullness...the rain...the blurred voices...the heavy eyelids...completely in your senses, yet so disconnected...unaware...as if life just shot you straight in the chest and you are stuck in time...sounds filter in sometimes...sometimes you become acutely aware of the sound of crackling of the bag that the person walking behind you on the street is carrying...but you still don't know where you are...what you really are doing and where you are headed...you just got caught up in that web...when you kept taking steps that you thought were leading you ahead...when they were just entangling you...until you didn't know what to do...how to escape...life does that sometimes...but...through the web you can still see the rabbits chasing each other in the grass adorned with dew drops...their white tails bobbing up and down...a smile and a tear...

Catch and Miss.

There is always a part of us that is scared of loosing people or things that are dear to us, whether it be family, friends, our favourite movie stars or our favourite stuffed toys that we hugged to sleep when we were little kids. Unfortunately, because of self-preservation or just in our attempt to keep up with the mind-numbing (literally!) pace of life, we shut this fear into a small little box and bury it in the deep recesses of our numb mind.

But for how long can it really stay there?

Someday when that person or thing actually does get lost, you realize that the least you could do was to make the most of the opportunities you had while they were around. Today, the great legend of Indian music, Jagjit Singh, the ghazal maestro, passed away and all I could think of was the opportunities that were so readily available to me but which I had so conveniently ignored, always thinking that there would be another time. I grew up listening to the mellow and soothing voice of this great man, not understanding at that time what the words really meant, but growing up with them as companions in times of heart break and homesickness. The suddenness of his passing made me really sit up and think - how many opportunities do we give up because we are too scared or too lazy to actually admit that there may not be another one coming down our way, ever.

Often we take a step back and spend some time introspecting and thinking about where we are in life and what we have achieved. Should we not think about what all we could have achieved instead of puffing up our chests and grinning away to glory for what we have?

Life is really short, you never know when you will turn a corner and come face to face with your biggest fear, the fear of loss. And when you do turn that corner, even though you can never be completely ready to face it, the least you can do is to make the most of the time you have and not be laden with regret when you do.

Hey, I'm Bangalore, and you?

We walk around them, meet people in them, crib and complain about them and love and hate them, but do we ever identify ourselves with them? The cities we live in often represent the people we are and the lives we lead. Social, outgoing, busy and noisy - Mumbai. Beautiful, fresh, stressed and laid-back - Bangalore. Busy, loud, showy and maddening - Delhi. The same descriptions can easily be used to describe an individual as well. But does that mean that we can define people by the city they live in or grew up in or define the city by the people who live or grew up in them.

Accept it or not, the cities that we live in are a major factor in determining the person we become while we live in it. Many of us think that we have beaten our city to it and chosen to live there because we know exactly who it is and know that we resemble it anyway, but we forget that the city changes with every second, sometimes a little bit and sometimes so much that you can hardly even recognize it, and then, the joke is on us. Crazy traffic everyday makes us angry and frustrated and makes us curse like we never thought we could. Months of constant rainy days make us lazy and hungry. We may fight it and maintain a constant struggle to preserve our innate nature but does it really work?

The schedule of our lives start revolving around the months that the weather is pleasant in or the hours that you can avoid peak hour traffic and power cuts. Dinner shifts to an earlier or later time depending upon the time that you can catch the least crowded bus that allows you to grab a seat and curfew shifts to the time that the last bus leaves the bus station.

Unfortunately, we are often so busy being in the thick of things and hustling around to fit into the city that we live in, that we forget to value it and everything it gives us. We crib and complain about hanging onto the last step of the bus (to those who have read my previous posts-guilty!), getting splashed by spoilt brats zipping through the city in their shiny new BMWs and about the never-ending heat and pollution, but do we ever turn to look at what the city is giving us? We don't even think twice about dumping chocolate wrappers and cigarette butts onto the pavement and leaving the lights on all day, but ofcourse every single moment we think about the bad odour coming from the side of the pavement or the smoke coming from the drain where leaves lay burning, and ensure that the thought does not leave us without it being garnished with a few curses.

As individuals we are always taught to take utmost care of ourselves and the people we love and care about. Why then, can we not even spare a moment to consider taking care of the very city we live in? The one that transforms us, teaches us so much and allows us to enter like a 'Bhopal' and leave like a 'Bangalore'.

Unity in blue!

Whether you are a cricket fan or not, it does not matter. Step out into the streets of any city of India today and you will find yourself grinning and cheering, throwing your fists up in the air, gripped by the fever of the religion of every Indian - Cricket. Shops were closed, offices had given their employees half day off, auto-rickshaw drivers had found a corner to park their vehicles (next to electronic appliance shops) - everyone was all ready to watch the semi-finals of the 2011 Cricket World Cup between India and Pakistan.

This match being played in Mohali was to create history. Tensed eyes, bitten fingernails and white knuckles - all a precursor to the celebration that was to follow. At 10:50 p.m. on 30th March, 2011, the fireworks began. Every Indian was out on the street, cheering for their Gods-the men in blue. The atmosphere was electric. Two hours after our beloved team won the match and the cheering on the streets shows no sign of ceasing. Thousands out on the streets, yelling "Jai Hind" and celebrating the man of the match Sachin Tendulkar by hanging garlands and whistling at life size posters of him hung from the electric poles in the city. Friend or stranger - smiles and high-fives being exchanged in abundance. There is no limit to the happiness and pride being experienced by each and every Indian all around the world. Hindu, Sikh, Muslim, Christian - nothing matters! Today we are all one, all Indians, devotees of the Gods in blue.

Nothing unites our country like cricket, proved by the bliss flowing through the air tonight! Religion and patriotism at it's very best. Who can look at our country today and say that we are divided?

The power of blessings.

I didn't think much of it initially, but when my mom told me that the best thing you could earn in life are blessings, it got me thinking that maybe it meant more than I was giving it credit for.
Dead tired, I got into an auto-rickshaw after work, desperate to get home. As I was sitting in the rickshaw, I noticed that somebody had left behind their laptop bag. I promptly pointed it out to the auto-rickshaw driver. He immediately slapped his hand to his forehead and said "Sahib ka hai (It is Sir's)". Assuming he knew where this 'Sahib' lived, I agreed when he asked if we could go and drop it off at his place, which was close-by, before moving towards my destination.
Thinking it to be a very trite event, I could not fathom why the driver kept thanking me for not picking up the bag and taking it home. Following the driver's "Thank you"s were the owner's "I owe you so much!" when we dropped his bag at his place. In response all I could offer was a puzzled smile. I was put out of my confused misery by the driver soon after, when on the way to my place, in between several expressions of gratitude, he managed to tell me that the 'Sahib' was the owner of a large plumbing supply company and that he was returning home after collecting the earnings from all his outlets throughout the city which were in that very bag. An amount of close to 9 lakh rupees. Mouth hanging wide open, I listened. He explained to me how the police would blame him and throw him in jail for having allegedly 'stolen' the bag if I hadn't returned it to him.
As I got off, paid and thanked him for dropping me home, I could see in his eyes the earnestness and honesty with which he expressed his gratitude and gave me his blessings. It got me thinking - a poor man in this world may not have much power to gift or punish but what he does have is the power to bless or curse, and that no one can take away from him - no matter what.

"For you, Madam."

It's funny how the smallest things in life can bring the widest of grins on your face. Being a Sunday, I was just getting back home after a long walk to the supermarket, lugging my groceries, breathing in the poisonous fumes from the vehicles which sped past on the road, when a flower stall across the street caught my eye. Immediately I cheered up, remembering that I had managed to save up a few rupees (which is a big thing considering that it is the 4th last day of the month!) which I could spare to buy a few flowers to brighten up my apartment.

I walked upto the flower stall and selected a few flowers and asked the boy to wrap them up in newspaper for me. Being the hard-core Indian that I am, I managed to bargain with him and bring the price down by 10 rupees. Not much, but a personal victory nonetheless. Content with myself and looking forward to getting home and putting the flowers in bottles around the house, I quickly paid him and left. A couple of seconds later I heard the boy call out to me and I turned back only to see him come up to me and hand me a pretty yellow flower with a smile on his face. Surprised, I counted my flowers and told him that I had all the flowers that I had paid for. He looked at me, smile in place, and said, "for you madam".

The grin that spread across my face still remains. I thanked him, gave him a huge toothy smile and walked back home with a skip in my step, practically! A stranger, a very simple gesture and yet, it was all I needed to brighten up my entire day or maybe even the entire week! Made me realise that even if we made just one small such gesture towards a stranger in a day, maybe we wouldn't be able to change the world but we would be able to make a difference. No matter how many hardships one has to face in life, if we have a reason to smile, the burden does actually become easier to bear and small gestures, like helping a kid cross the road or giving up your seat in the bus to somebody who needs it more, can make a difference, small in respect to the world, but huge in respect to that one person whose burden you helped lighten.

Upside-down

Taking the bus on a weekday in Bangalore during the peak office timings is like a curse. Having led a pampered life in Dubai and a relatively slow life in Bhopal, this is a very new experience for me. Although it does make me feel independent and strong, the experience in itself is like a two hour long physical and mental workout. The buses are so packed that the conductor literally has to exit from one door and enter from the other to be able to sell tickets to the passengers packed inside the bus, pushing and shoving until they find just enough place to stand. Standing on the first step of the bus, hanging on for dear life while the bus driver ensures that the entrance door of the bus misses hitting every other vehicle on the road by only a couple of inches, has now become a routine experience (and I've been here for only two weeks!!). However, these are hardships that every person who cannot afford a personal mode of transportation must endure everyday, multiple times a day. This, like every other hardship, leaves a mark on each one who endures it religiously, be it a bruise from bumping into the handrail everytime the bus starts or stops moving, the wrinkle on the forehead from fighting with the conductor who did not bother to return your change or the scratch marks from the fight to occupy the seat that just got vacated. It's been two weeks and counting, and not once have I seen a smile in the bus. Be it the morning, the evening or the night, every passenger carries with them the burden of life. A thousand frowns and a thousand slumped shoulders-if only they could turn upside down. Every face you see is unique, every expression thought-inducing. It makes you wonder what story lies behind each frown and each wrinkle. My frown is only two weeks old and perhaps the older seasoned travellers see me and think-here comes another amateur waiting for a smile, waiting for a miracle in life. Whether I find my miracle or not, I'm glad that they look at me, smile and think to themselves, let's see how long before she stops giving up her seat to others and starts the fight.

Life is too short...

Life is too short. Break the rules. Forgive quickly. Kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably. And never regret anything that made you smile.

Those words (from the Bollywood movie Guzaarish) form the most beautiful definition of life that I have ever come across. Being completely against self-help books and programmes, I was always a firm believer in the fact that one should live life in his or her own customized way. Everyone should make their own mistakes and decisions and live through each exclusive experience instead of living vicariously through authors who claim to increase their confidence or give them a more satisfying love life. I guess I still do believe in this strongly but something has changed. Although no one can hand you a book of guidelines to live your life, there can always be those who can inspire you to write your own.

Recently, having started volunteering at a school for kids with special needs, I have been blessed with the gift of inspiration from so many lovely little muses who have taught me how to live life king size. We have so much to be grateful for in our lives. Many of us have the choice to make our own decisions - whether it be to choose what we want for dinner or who we want to spend our lives with, and the choice to feel and express - whether it be by singing with joy, throwing things in anger or crying in pain. What we don't understand is what these little things in life are worth. Ask those who have been given no choice but to live in a wheelchair all their life, those who never have anything but bread and water to feed their hungry stomachs and those who try as they may can never utter those 3 simple words 'I love you' to anyone. It is them who have a right to be angry, a right to complain. But yet, it is always them who are content and them who find happiness in everything around. Whether it be the scrunching of a little nose when they get a math problem wrong or the warm handshake early in the morning, every action and expression has an innate optimism that no matter how bad yesterday was, today will be a good day.

Spend some time with these kids and you will realize that there is so much to live for, so many giggles and chuckles out there waiting to infect you with laughter. Life is really short, and no matter how much you do or don't have, it is upto you to make the most of it. So, don't sit around waiting for life to get better, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably and never regret anything that made you laugh.

The big red 'L'

I had always been on the judging end when I saw new drivers drive on the roads. Their obsession with indicators, their inability to maintain a good speed, their fear of entering roundabouts, all of it was always such an inconvenience for everyone else on the road. Now, when I am learning how to drive in a vehicle with a huge red 'L' on the glass, I realize how difficult it actually is for them.

Driving may come as a natural for many people but I certainly am not one of them. I have to constantly try harder and harder to be just an average driver. It is turning out to be one of the hardest things I have had to learn till date. Being an over-expensive process here in Dubai, learning driving is more like a full-time non-paying job than a fun yay-I-am-finally-learning-how-to-drive experience. You may be a decent driver when it actually comes to that but having an instructor or an examiner sitting next to you and closely watching and scrutinizing your every move proves to be so nerve racking that you can't even manage to keep your car straight! Every indicator you forget to switch off, every wrong swerve of your hand on the steering wheel, every time you don't look over your shoulder before changing lanes just brings with it a lot of dread and nervousness. Whenever a driver honks at you or overtakes you on the road, all the while shaking his head in pity from side to side, anger builds up in you and you end up jamming the accelerator which in turn switches on a flow of yells and screams from your instructor. Truly, every action has an equal (or in my case, amplified) and opposite reaction.

The waiting room at the learning centre is an even worse story! Having class at 9:30 am, I get the privilege of spending atleast a few minutes everyday amongst nervous-wrecks going in for their road tests. The room is filled with anxiety. Few people sitting in a group and cracking jokes to try and lighten up the mood only to be received by high-pitched nervous laughter, few people concentrating on reading their handbooks one last time in the hope that they may finally discover that hidden secret which would help them pass their road test, few discussing what mistakes are commonly made and ofcourse the other few who are busy nosing around and finding out which attempt at the road test it is for the others waiting around. Even if you don't have a test to give, the nervousness eventually gets to you and even a routine driving class becomes a huge nerve-racking experience. I remember being ecstatic when I had gotten myself registered for driving classes, happy that I was finally going to be able to drive a car soon. Little did I know that there's probably more of a chance of me finding a hidden treasure than that of me getting a driving licence in this country.

Still I try and still I hope. But one thing is for sure, whether I walk out of this experience with or without a Dubai driving licence in my hand, I will walk out with a new found understanding and respect for learning drivers!

A congregation of angels.

There's a whole lot of chitter-chatter and a whole lot of smiles. Beaming faces and happiness galore. The joy of a new day and the pleasure of friends' company. The national anthem and the morning prayer is followed by the school song full of motivation and praise, accompanied with loads of clapping and synchronised dance. A few angels upfront deliver an important message to which listens everyone else in awe. Then comes the best part of the morning - the 'Good Morning drill'. Handshakes and wishes flowing about the room as if on the wings of sparrows hopping from chair to chair. Doesn't matter if they fought yesterday or had never seen each other before, still they bestow upon each other a toothy grin. The birthday song and the weekly dance routine comes up next. The most amazing dancers one has ever seen. The intoxication of the morning filling up inside of everyone and the drunken revelry. The upliftment of spirits and the excitement of a new day. The lit up eyes, full of hope, shining bright, waiting to touch with their magic wands, a mortal's life.

Thus ends the morning assembly at a school for kids with special needs and thus begins a new day of learning and frolic and life if you may...

Change

Yesterday I met up with a few of my school mates after a long long period of 5 years. Not my closest friends in school and all people who I had lost touch with after school had ended.

My diffidence made me a little apprehensive about it at first but eventually I let myself get talked into it. Being a last minute plan, I ended up reaching there an hour late and without any mental preparation. You must be thinking, I am just meeting up with friends, what kind of mental preparation would I need for that, right? Well this was different. These were people who knew me when I was the fat geeky kid who studied all the time and did not know how to dress or carry herself and had absolutely no self-confidence. I was nervous! I did not know how I was going to face those people and the memories that seeing them would bring back to me.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself. It was so very interesting to see how everyone had grown as people. Everyone had branched out into various streams ranging from business to film-making. There were so many interesting stories being shared, some about school times and some post-school.

I stayed on the sidelines and watched and listened. I was intrigued by everyones opinions and thoughts. I spoke to people I had never spoken to in school. I listened to conversations about how the UAE is the first in the Middle East to manufacture airplane parts, how sad it is that our beloved school campus is now lying unused and uncared for after the school shifted to a new campus, and most interesting of all, about Indian politics. I was stunned when I found out that 2 of the people present there actually wanted to go into Indian politics and do their share for the country. They spoke about religion and the fire that burns in people because of it and of power and what it can do. They spoke about the Bhagavad Gita and the Quran. About the great Lalu and the amazing Mayawati. Being so deep into the conversation I was ignorant to all else. On my way home I thought over it all again. I realized that I had just spent close to an hour talking about Indian politics with those same kids whose last memories in my mind were those of standing in assembly lines dressed in the coloured house t-shirts and white shorts/skirts and of running away at the sight of Mr.James or Mrs.Brendish. So much time had passed and so much had changed. It made me think...How much had these 5 years changed me?

Lost...

Having just finished my undergrad, I was so freaked out at the prospect of not having a definite plan of action for life. Being the tightly wound person that I am, I always have a plan for even the small, trivial matters in every day life and there I was (still am!)-at one of the biggest and most important junctions of my life where a lot of decisions, regarding both my personal and professional life, were to be taken-and I did not even have the slightest clue of what was to be done. Infact I spent all my time worrying about the 'plan' and eventually was left with no time to actually sit and make a plan or atleast start weighing my options!

Finally, as usual, my parents came to my rescue. They told me to take some time off and visit my friends in India and my sister in Toronto, Canada. I couldn't have asked for anything better. I packed my bags and set out for my vacation. It was my first trip in the past 5 years that had no agenda and which allowed me to surrender to my whims and fancies. I met all my old friends, saw and fell in love with a beautiful new city (Bangalore), did loads of shopping, spent hours chatting, got drenched in the rain, and for once, stopped worrying!

After my brief and fun trip to India, I came home for a couple of days and before I knew it, I was on a plane to Toronto to visit my best friend, and in so many ways my inspiration, my elder sister. Usually when I go to a new city, I have travel plans set up in advance and I know exactly where I want to go and what I want to see, but this time it was all very different. This time I set myself free.

I woke up each morning and just stepped out and started walking (usually taking the less windy direction, but you get the point right?) with my Tim Hortons iced cappucino in one hand and my beloved black canon digital camera in the other. I spent some cherished quality time with my sister after so very long, I met a lot of new people, I danced and I wandered. I walked around the city with my earphones in place and iPod in hand and discovered areas of the city where even my sister had never been in the one year that she had been living there. I found places where I could just sit and watch people go about their lives, places where I could spend hours dog-watching (yes, i love dogs!) and places where the spirit of the architect inside me awoke and I spent hours gaping in awe at some of the most beautiful buildings I had ever seen. I just never wanted to stop walking. Eventually when I did, my legs hurt in places which I didn't even know existed, but that still didn't keep me from doing the exact same thing the very next day.

As I am writing this during my layover in London on my way back from Toronto to Dubai, I know that although I will always be the same, old, uptight person that I have always been, this trip has taught me to let go and take a breath once in a while. I may not always have the liberty to go with the flow and take chances in life but whenever I do, I know I will make full use of them.

Sometimes all we need is to take some time off and get lost. It leads us to discover paths we never knew existed and even though we may take the safest, most-used path to move forward in life, atleast we won't regret that we never gave ourselves that chance.

The spirit of patriotism.

About a week ago, we somehow managed to squeeze a holiday for Dussehra out of our boss and on the spur of the moment made a plan to go to Amritsar. Within a day the trip was planned, tickets booked and the train boarded. Althought the Golden Temple was stunning, there was something about our trip to the Wagah border that mesmerized me to such an extent that I am going to take the liberty to skip writing about the Golden Temple right now and write about the Wagah border first.
The Wagah border near Amritsar is where India shares it's border with Pakistan. Every day in the evening thousands flock to the Wagah border to watch the retreat ceremony. This is what I knew of this place before I arrived there. But nothing could prepare me for what I saw.
After 2 security checkpoints we finally made our way to the stadia-sort-of-place only to find that the whole seating area was jam packed. The men in uniform allowed Neha and me to sit on the pavement of the road where the parade takes place. The guys had to find their place in the crowd.
We settled down on our designated portions of the pavements and finally looked around us. A sea of people sat waiting for the parade to start. Just then loud patriotic music started booming from the speakers. After that the spirit of the place was to die for. People started cheering, singing, dancing, smiling. Kids and even a few ladies came down to the road and danced and danced. A beautiful array of colours sat in rows and rows with bright eyes and loud cheers for their country. The spirit of patriotism in the air could be seen, heard, smelled, touched. Never before had I seen so much of positive energy concentrated in any one place! People sang and swayed and whistled. It was pure magic! There was nothing that could dampen the excitement that could be seen on the face of every person there, be it a 2 year old kid or a 80 year old grand-father. I just could not stop smiling. I knew I was probably looking like an absolute idiot staring at the crowd and grinning away to glory but I didn't care. I wanted to share the joy, the patriotism. The smile just got broader when the music stopped and was replaced by loud cheers of Vande-Mataram, Hindustan Zindabad and Bharat Mata Ki Jai. There was no catalyst needed for the loud cheering to reach the point where everybody was just screaming at the top of their lungs. After a few minutes of the unwavering cheers, the parade finally started.
The soldiers marched to the gate. The Indian and Pakistani gates at the border were opened, salutes exchanged, flags were dropped to half mast and then taken off and folded, marching was done, gates were closed and salutes were exchanged again before the parade came to an end. Throughout the parade the crowd cheered and loudly proclaimed their love for their country. All I could do was stare in awe. One of the most memorable experiences of my life. Truly magical...

A Pause

Life is super fast in today's world. There is no time to relax, to speculate, to think, no time to laugh. The reason for this fast-paced life is nobody but we. We decide our life, we make it fast, we prefer to have quick showers instead of long bubble baths, we prefer to read magazines instead of books, we prefer to take flights instead of trains. All these definitely do help us save a lot of time but even this saved time is used to device other ways to save even more time. In today's world, a pause is necessary to stay sane. Give time to yourself, meet people, learn things, sing, dance, paint, walk...
Today, after a long and tiring trip to Agra, on my way back, I was planning to catch up on some left over work. We got to our berths and just as I was about to settle down 4 kids-2 girls aged 9 and 12 and 2 boys aged 7 and 9-came and sat with us. After that the next few hours were an unforgettable experience. We asked them everything starting from where they were from and ending at the Malayalam alphabet and they in turn asked us everything ranging from our names to our favourite colours.
They taught us Malayalam, told us about their dreams to become soldiers, I.A.S. officers and scientists, educated us about the must-see places in Kerala(which is where they were from), sand Malayalam songs for us, fed us some South Indian snacks and ofcourse topped it off by being sweet enough to let us borrow their smiles for a few photographs.
Time flew by and it is true, when you're having fun, time flies so for all those living life in the fast lane, start having fun and watch the sights fly by.

Thank you...

Life has it's own weird ways...just when you least expect it, life treats you like dirt and when you expect it the most, voila! You are royalty. The best and worst experiences come at the most unexpected times. Some you forget with time, some you cherish for the rest of your life and some of them occupy that little corner of your mind and heart that you can't erase but can only lock up. Everyday you meet people, some stay on, some leave. Some give you tears, some manage to bring that beautiful smile on your face and most just walk by, invisible to you.
Every day you wake up thinking that today is just another day of your life but most days turn out to be roller coaster rides, some good ones, some that leave you with a bad feeling in your stomach. All are not as big as some are, but all of them leave their effect on your life.
Whether it be the kindness of a thela-wala who gave you a free neembu-paani for relief from the sweltering heat, the auto-wala who purposely took you by the longer route to earn more, the hunched back old woman who looked at you with helpless eyes full of longing, or the shopkeeper who haggled with you for twenty minutes just for a nominal amount of 5 Rs., each one of these people, though not a part of your conscious life and memories teach you the basic lessons of life which nobody else can. The kindness of the thela-wala restores your lost faith in humanity, he auto-wala teaches you to be careful before trusting anyone, the old woman makes you realise how lucky you are to have food on your plate and good health and the shopkeeper teaches you how difficult it is to earn your livelihood. These lessons are more precious and important for life compared to anything taught in any classroom.
Most of us don't even realise these small everyday things and ignore all these people who are so instrumental in making "us" and shaping our throughts and principles. People ask me why after every ride in a rickshaw I turn around and thank the rickshaw-wala. The answer is simple. No matter whether they were polite or rude, decent or indecent, they taught me something and left an impression on my life.
It is said that we learn from our mistakes, so isn't it only right to thank the people who help us make those mistakes in the first place so that we can get it right the second time around?

Why I should get a nobel prize.

One of the burning issues of today in our country and all over the world is urbanisation and the problems caused due to migration of population from rural to urban areas. Our cities are not designed to accomodate the population explosion that happens due to this migration. Facts, figures, charts, all can be presented to you to make a very convincing case, enough to make sure that you begin cursing every villager that you see in the street and thinking to yourself that it is because of them that there is traffic, congestion, pollution, lack of hygiene etc. etc. in your city.
Before you do that, think twice.
A very simple thing that happened today convinced me that no matter what facts or figures point to, India is in it's villages. Most of us Indians pride ourselves on our heritage, our culture, our traditions, our moral values and the ever-helpful nature of our countrymen. Go to any city in India and you will not find more than a handful of people who according to our standards, represent our India. Culture, heritage, moral values, all of these have been sacrificed for the glittering Western influences. Unfortunately, cliched, but true-all that glitters is not gold. We do not even realise how far we have come from our country. Flying kites and singing patriotic songs on National holidays does not show that we are true Indians.
I was returning from my office today and on the way in the middle of a village, one of the rear tyres of the vehicle that I was travelling by got punctured. My colleague and I got a little worried because we had no idea if there were any shops close by that could help us change the tyre of the car. It was only a matter of minutes after we had gotten out of the car to examine the puncture, that there was a young man in his twenties from that very village who stopped by and asked us what was wrong. We told him about the puncture and his immediate reply was, "Do you have a jack?". We replied in the affirmative and the next thing we see is that he is down on the floor checking out the puncture and asking for the necessary tools and our spare tyre. We obediently and gratefully handed them to him. We stood there waiting on him and assisting him in any way possible when we figured that he actually had never changed a tyre before. Since we knew a little bit about it and had seen it being done before, we thought we should help him. Just as we were about to do that, along came a lean, tall man. Without a word he stopped, kneeled down on the ground and told the other man what he was doing wrong and started helping him out. Unfortunately for us, the spare tyre did not contain enough air pressure. We hadn't even thought about what we should do about it when the first man was seen rolling the tyre away merrily. Within minutes he was back with the tyre all filled up with a brilliant gleam in his eye. It was his first time after all. Soon, the tyre was changed and just as we breathed a sigh of relief after replacing the punctured tyre in the cars trunk, we turned around to see the man waiting with a mug of clean water to make us wash our hands. We gratefully did so and offered him some money and a sack full of thanks. He took the sack.
We were strangers to those men, strangers to their village and yet we did not even have to ask for help. They were ready, willing and so very kind. If the same thing happens to us in a city, people stare and drive slowly by. Some even speed up to rub it in!
So really, isn't the village a much better place to be in?
I live in a city but nothing that happens here or nobody that I meet leaves any impression on me but an incident as small and trivial as this has been engraved on my mind forever. Our villages are the places where you can see the stars in the night sky, where the sky is never empty of coloured kites, where kids are seen running around with a thread in their hands rolling a small wagon behind them without any fear, where people sleep with their doors open. If only, we could see that India is not in it's Westernized cities but in it's villages. If instead of villagers moving to cities, the city dwellers moved to the villages. Going back to our roots would solve every single problem that exists in this world today and global warming, carbon credits, pollution, climate change, traffic congestion, overpopulation, unemployment can all be blown away.
So there it is. The perfect solution. Now, can I please have my nobel prize? Somebody? Anybody?

Doomsday

I guess scarier than death is the anticipation that leads to it. Living each day like it would be your last is supposed to be a good thing but that last day would also be full of fear because any second you could see Yamraaj climb down from the sky and take you away with him. Lately life just seems like one big last day...
A student in my college suicided because the administration harrassed him until he couldn't take it anymore, a batchmate passed away by slipping while crossing a river and hitting his head on a rock, there were blasts in Assam, Delhi, Ahmedabad, Jaipur, Mumbai, there was mass gunfiring on the streets of Mumbai. These are only incidents that I have been a distant spectator to (through news channels), during the past few months. Life has become so unpredictable for every one. I guess if you really think about it life is always unpredictable. You never know when you can meet with an accident and loose your life. Come to think of it it really isn't that hard for the person who dies but for the people who he leaves behind to live without him or her in their lives. Accidents were always a part of the fear that one lived with everyday but today we have to live with a fear of being shot at or being blasted at any corner of the street. It has become difficult for us to even walk the streets of our city without receiving ten phone calls from our parents and family and friends telling us to hurry up and go home. But really is there any certainty that there isn't a bomb sitting ready to blast inside your very own residence. Really...in today's world anything can happen.
There was always the issue of Global Warming that all of us were aware about but never consciously did anything to prevent and now that it is finally here and we can see how the seasons are actually changing, we realise that we should have done something. Sometimes when the sky becomes dark and grey in the middle of spring it does feel like the world will end that day.
To make things worse man is fighting against man. Terrorism is growing and capturing so many innocent lives. It is robbing civilians of their family members and friends. What is the reason for these innocent people to loose their lives, nobody knows. It certainly wasn't their fault.
Life lately just seems like one long grey day. If you are careful enough to avoid accidents, then the terrorists may get you, and if you are lucky enough to escape them too, eventually the ice age will come and you will freeze and become a fossil anyway. There is really no way out. A few of us may be lucky enough to live a whole life and die when our skin cannot wrinkle anymore, for the rest of us, keep living with the hope that tomorrow will not be your last and with the gratitude that you are still alive. And if you actually do want to do something for mankind, save water and electricity and fight against terrorism. If you can't do that either, just spread smiles...you'll be making the world a better place. Take care...

Delhi all the way!!!

The train journey started perfectly. We had water and a whole lot of junk food, enough to last us the entire journey and probably more. Three superly excited girls on 2 hours of sleep and with a fun-filled 4 days to look forward to, we did just as was expected of us - brought the coach down with our nonsensical conversation and hysteric bouts of laughter that pursued after every few seconds of conversation. The basic outline of our 2 hour conversation was all of us taking turns to teach each other our respective mother tongues and the sentence that we took up to complete this task was - "I will cut your throat and drink your blood", inspired from the ever famous Bengali dialogue of the character "Manjulika" in the Bollywood movie "Bhool Bhulaiyaa". The three languages being Sindhi, Bengali and Kannad, by the end of the learning session, we had mastered the dialogue in both Bengali and Kannad (I was the one who had to teach the Sindhi, only problem was that I didn't know the language well enough myself and it didn't sound half as funny or scary in my language). Unfortunately our fun was interrupted by a funny, short man who had the middle berth between our lower and upper berths so we didn't have a choice but to shut up and go to berth(bed).
Unable to curb the excitement of our trip that was to follow, 2 of us woke up pretty early and revised our Bengali and Kannad dialogues soon enough to say them to the third girl from our group who slept right through till we reached Delhi. Giggling like little girls we got down on the platform and made our way towards the exit. Two of us who were staying together headed in the direction of the car waiting for us and the third headed towards her car. The following couple of hours included freshening up, eating breakfast, getting to our first destination and waiting for the third to come. Before I move on, the purpose of the trip was basically to make a sort of documentary on the 10 ancient cities which amalgamated to form the present day city of Delhi. The trip was of four days and the day time was to be devoted to video-shooting while the evenings were devoted to having fun.

Day-1

The first day we were to cover the Old Delhi region which included Shahjanabad, Jama Masjid and The Red Fort. The city we were covering was Shahjanabad which was built by Shah Jahan. These areas being predominantly Muslim areas, we were freaked out because of the recent bomb blasts that had taken place in Delhi a couple of days before our trip. Carefully we started walking towards the market street. We couldn't decide as to where to go and all we could do was stand and argue as to what our plan of action should be. Chandni chowk being a majorly congested market area, we were honked at and screamed at to get out of the way a whole lot.
Eventually we decided that nothing was going to come out of us walking around on foot so we hired a cycle rickshaw and luckily found one, the driver of which knew the area very well. He took us around the entire area and showed us everything that we needed to see including the silver street, the paratha street (i begged my friends to go there and actually eat something, but no one agreed), the gold street, the electronics street and so on including just about every type of market that you can possibly imagine! We were so very grateful to the rickshaw driver for making our task so much easier or else we would have been able to take a video of only about half a street! Since we have a habit of complaining no matter what, it was the worst thing sitting in the narrow backseat of the rickshaw. For those who have been unfortunate enough to sit in that seat through crowded markets with non-so-pothole-devoid streets, I am sure they can understand our position. We managed to get through by exchanging seats every once in a while.
It was part scary and part funny to see how much importance a person could get just by having a camera in his hand. We got a whole lot of inquisitive glances and even some very frantic waves from people when we pointed the camera in their direction(some even if we didn't). Overall was a pretty great experience. The streets were overly crowded with people jumping over rickshaws and "thelas" just to get to the other side of the road. The electric wires were so carelessly wound over and around electric poles and hung loosely over shops and houses. There was an amalgamation of old and new houses and one could spend an entire day picking out the old ones from the new ones. There was absolutely no distinction between pedestrian and vehicular pathways. People moved in any direction where they could see an inch of space in which to walk in. All this in paths that were wide avenues that served as processional paths for the king Shah Jahan from the Red Fort till the Lahori and Delhi Gate. It is said that Shah Jahan used to be able to see till the Lahori and Delhi Gate sitting in his fort. Streets that were wide and grand have now been converted into congested markets that provide no space for people to even walk during peak hours.
Even though Chandni Chowk does not portray a perfect well-planned market, it gives us an essence of Indian street and stall markets like no other. Delicious aromas floating around in the air, inviting us to snack at every food stall in sight, no matter how stuffed we already are, shiny objects glittering out of shop windows making us wish we had more money on us to be able to purchase them, colourful clothes draped over shop fronts fluttering in the gentle breeze showing us how great it looks from every angle, people bustling past doing their everyday business or shopping not forgetting to spare a few extra seconds to stare at the people walking around with cameras, while those poor people who are unfamiliar with the area walk, clutching their bags to their chests because they have been given several warnings about pick-pockets. Whether you like it or not, that's a typical Indian market for you that all of us love!
After chandni Chowk the rickshaw headed in the direction of the Yamuna river where we saw the level of the water that was and that is presently. On the way to the banks of the Yamuna we saw the famous Hanuman temple and quite a few other temples. After the river bank we cycle-rickshawed our way to the famous Jama Masjid and Meena Bazaar. After seeing Chandni chowk, Meena Bazaar didn't present too many exciting sights, except that one man incessantly tried to follow our rickshaw which was moving at a snail's pace and eventually ended up getting verbally abused by us. Thankfully people around were too busy to notice and a scene wasn't created. The Jama Masjid was beautiful. It is a mosque made of red sandstone with marble domes. Since we were way too tired and still had the Red Fort to visit, none of us dared to even raise the question of going inside.
Following the Jama Masjid we went to the Red Fort. We left the cycle rickshaw there and gave him a huge amount of money(I am not going to disclose the amount for fear of being mocked by all people reading this), but we were so very grateful to him. We even took his interview! The Red Fort was just as monumental as we had imagined it to be. The Aurangzeb wall was the first structure we saw. Aurangzeb had later constructed this wall in front of the Lal Qila to separate the fort from the streets of the common man. After purchasing tickets and leaving our bags in the cloak room we went inside. We already had studied the fort before we went so we could pretty much point out every structure we saw. I am not going to list out all the structures because it would serve no purpose considering I can't actually show you which structure is which. Overall it was a great monument. It was admirable to see how well every structure had been preserved. The great Mughal arches and inscriptions were all great sights. There was a nice market inside the fort of handicrafts and all Indian crafts where it took all my female will power to not buy anything. Since the camera battery had just about 10 minutes of life remaining, I had to practically run all around the fort to get videos of all the buildings inside. The provided the last straw. I gave up and started to irritate everybody which paid off eventually and we were out of there within 15 minutes. The remaining is a blur.
All I remember was waking up the next morning...

i, robot

If I were a robot and you were a robot and everybody was a robot...
I would open my eyes and walk out of the closet (no need to pay for a bigger room to accommodate a bed!), no rubbing sleep-deprived eyes, no yawning, wide awake just as I had been last night and day and the day before that and the day before the day before that and before that. A quick coat of polish and oiling, followed by a quick coat of paint of the colour listed out for each day of the week.
A quick bite of battery power to charge my cells and out the door I go singing along to the shuffled playlist stored in my head. Automatic shut off of the music as soon as I am within close proximity of the college building. I enter, sit down for class. I don't yawn, stay wide awake and even manage to listen and register every single word spoken by the teacher. Four continuous lectures and I don't even need a stretch.
End of college, head home, sit down to review everything taught and finish assignments. That would be easy enough. Any books to be read would only need to be flipped and every image and letter would be imprinted on my very large digital chip that common people would call a brain. The phone rings, a member of the opposite sex tries to act smart with me, all I would need to do is check my database for his image and character profile and check off the qualities that he has that match the "dream man" list and if he fulfills the criteria that lie within a range mentioned in the database, I continue with a conversation which is randomly chosen by my brain chip out of the many recorded in my memory. If he doesn't, all I have to do is conveniently play a playlist filled with abusive words and don't stop until the call does not get disconnected. If the person is patient enough to listen through the entire list, it would be repeated.
Then a power chord inserted, I walk back into my cozy warm (cheap) closet and end my amazingly hassle-free day.
Life is easy!