Friday, September 26, 2008
जय हिन्दी
हिन्दी. पटना में तो फिर भी हिन्दी दिख जाता है. प्रेमचंद की कहानियो का संग्रह,
टागॉर की लेखनी या शिवानी के उपन्यास. परिवार में अनेक लोग थे जो यह पुस्तक पढ़ते थे. यहाँ
पता नही क्यूँ हम प्रसिद्ध हिन्दी कहानिया भी अँग्रेज़ी में ही पढ़ते हैं. और अगर हिन्दी में कुछ
लिख भी दें तो बहुत गर्व महसूस करतें हैं. जैसे कोई बिल्कुल अजूबा कर दिया हो. देवनागरी जैसे लिप्त हो रही है. न्यूज़ चॅनेल भी रोमन स्क्रिप्ट में न्यूज़ लिखते हैं, अधिकतर. लेकिन अगर आप अँग्रेज़ी अख़बार भी देखे तो कई बार आप पाएगें की अग्रेज़ी का वाक्य सीधा अनुवाद है
हिन्दी वाक्य का, यानी, किसी ने हिन्दी में सोचें वाक्य को वैसे ही अँग्रेज़ी में लिख दिया.
और सिर्फ़ अख़बार ही क्यूँ, कई बार वार्तालाप करतें वक़्त भी हम हिन्दी में सोच कर अँग्रेज़ी में बोल देते हैं.
वाक्य बिल्कुल ही अटपटा लगता है.
यह लेखनी क्यूँ लिखी? शायद बहुत दिन हो गया था अपनी मर्ज़ी का कुछ हिन्दी में लिखे हुए. और पढ़े हुए.
Monday, September 15, 2008
BMW vs blueline
every week the count of people killed by the blueline keeps rising. the news finds a column in the 3rd or 4th page of the newspaper. the media doesnt raise a hue and cry. why this differential treatment? well, i have figured out why.
the nanda has committed two crimes. one he is a rich man, which is a crime in our poor country. and then his car ran over poor people. had he crushed a rich lad on an expensive bike, i guess it would have been ok.
on the other hand, the blueline is driven by a poor guy. forget the seth who owns the blueline. it's the driver who is present at the site of the crime. so a poor man committing a crime against a poor man doesnt make for a good story.
Monday, September 8, 2008
yateem
as a kid i had enjoyed this movie immensely. though i didnt remember the story, just bits of it. so when i chanced on it on Set Max this morning, i had to catch it. and i am happy that i did. unlike other bollywood movies, here you'll see Sunny Deol bathing under the waterfall in his unbranded boxers. him swimming in the river showing off his well built body. and Farha is standing on banks looking at him with lustful eyes. it was refreshing to see this role reversal in Bollywood. till recently, when feminism was high on my agenda, i would wish to cast men in minimal clothes. it was my revenge for what men have done to women in the show business. and for that matter i liked Om Shanti Om, the way Farha Khan made a spectacle of Shahrukh Khan's body.
i think yateem too must have been directed by a woman.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
no divorce in hindi
apparently, the hindu way of thinking also emphasises the existence of opposites. so beautifully highlighted in the movie Aks. so, if there's a 'shaadi', there should also be a, you know what i mean.
but then, history also gives us an example. ram had separated from sita. but nomenclature didnt adopt the act. so i guess the act is quite prevalent. but when you talk about it, as rahul puts, one comes at a loss of words.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
the fall of rain
if you overlook the muddy streets, collapsing buildings and jammed roads it leaves behind, rain is the perfect way to end a day. and if once in a while you give the perfect you a break, and dont mind getting drenched, it is also the perfect way of revisiting your childhood.
way back in the 80s and 90s, the summer vacation would be still on when monsoon came to patna. some 10-12 of us would continue our play on the terrace. the rain was not an interruption, it was a welcome guest. none of our parents would stop us from playing in the rain. mostly because our grandmother would give us the permit. according to her, the first rain was the perfect medicine for summer boils. patna at that time wasnt that advanced to experience acid rain, i guess. once the rain stopped, we would run down to the bathroom. water dripping from our clothes. after another shower in the bathroom we would be ready to resume our play.
ganga would outgrow herself every monsoon. last year when i visited the banks during dusshera, i could see chunks of land visible in the middle of the river. i hope this year the monsoon has replenished her. however much the water level, ganga in patna does not exude the deafening noise that it does in rishikesh. it grows old by the time it reaches my city. and sobers down.
river, rain. i guess it's the water that has a soothing effect on me. even the roaring of sea doesnt disturb. it soothes.
Monday, August 11, 2008
yakk yakk
recently i was very eager to blog. with so many thoughts brimming and anxiously waiting for an outlet, it was difficult to control myself. writing is therapeutic. it's like talking to a good friend. one that does not react however blasphemous your thougths. is not judgmental. and best of all, keeps your secrets hidden from the world. that's the beauty of writing, when you do it in a diary. and tug it away behind a pile of forgotten clothes in your wardrobe.
a blog is totally contrary to it. so many people will read it and talk about it. it's like baring your soul, asking people to be judgmental. how i missed the diary. have got so used to letting it out on a keyboard, that scribbling in a diary seemed an effort.
so the thoughts brimmed, floated and i talked. big time. i probably let it out in installments. it's like, if the 10 people i interact with the most get together and discuss, they can piece together the whole story. how i miss the diary.
Monday, July 21, 2008
how far should we bend?
so i write the first invite and she's ok with it. then she goes in a meeting and comes back brainwashed. she looks at the first invite and yelps, revolution is too strong a word.
by now 4-5 of her pappus have also flooded the room.
me: but i thought you were ok with it.
MD: no-no. tch
pappu 1: how about endeavour?
MD: hmm
pappu 2: initiative sounds good?
MD: initiative doesn't gel well with the internal sensitivities
me: urgh
pappu 3: jouney is a nice word
MD seems to like the suggestion.
pappu 2 realises he is losing ground, so he juts in
pappu 2: waise we can make the invite flow in a different manner. you know, it could start with 'Mr. analjit singh invites you..'
pappu 3 gets back: you never address anyone with a 'mr' or 'ms' in an invite
MD: drop 'mr'
pappu 2: but i have seen it frequently in invites
MD: add 'mr'
by now my brain has gone into the power saving mode and has switched off. i look at the laptop screen. and it looks back. blankly. gingerly i slide it to Asif. let him make the changes in the copy, that is, if he can grasp the proceedings.
suddenly they all are looking at me. my brain switches on. ok, they are ready to brief me on the 4th invite. i understand the brief, and pull back the laptop. anisha and pappu 3 are peeping in the screen. they are judging me by each word that i am typing. i delelte what i just wrote. write again. delete it again.
MD: is it uncomfortable for you to work in this room?
i grab the opportunity and blurt.
me: i would rather go to office and work.
MD: ok
and yes, in-between she also argued with me on a preposition.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
to ignore or not
but why just text twist, many other institutions also have the same attitude. our biology teacher in school very conveniently skipped the chapter on reproduction. i can understand his discomfort, it was a girls only school and he was one of the 3 male teachers. but then it left a bunch of 60 girls confused. for a very long time.
but you cannot ignore the servicing in my office. they are so loud and vocal, despite the fact that they dont do their job. today i made their life hell (rather than allowing them to do the same to my life). just for a tiny moment. suddenly i realise it gave me tremendous joy to see them troubled. if my mother reads this she will call me a failed project .
PS: machupichu, i hope it's legible, now that i have changed the font.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
hair apparent (or not so?)
i walked into the store. i should mislead him. so i ask him for clips. well, clips are no longer called clips, he told me. they are now called back clips, side clips and jura clips. by the process of elimination, i ask for side clips. he gestures me towards another counter. as i reach it my eyes are dazzled by the clips on display. multi-coloured stones cover every inch of the clips. bling-bling. instantly i blurt out, no-no i want simple clips. Ohh, hair pins!! that's what you are looking for?
last i knew, they were called clips. he handed me a set of 12 clips. what if i wanted just 2, they are sold by the dozen. clipped to a thick glossy paper which read JP STAY TIGHT. how uncomfortable for JP.
now that the act was over, i should ask for it. very causually i ask, tweezer hoga?
he nods and turns around to get it. it worked. he didnt even once glance at the thick sprouting strand standing proudly on my chin. growing taller everyday. well, not anymore.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
take-off seat
Monday, June 30, 2008
picture perfect
what decides how good you will look? genes dont. among siblings you will find beauty and the beast. what is that one factor which makes god say, she will be born beautiful. this is one code that i want to crack.
beautiful people have so much advantage. for one, they can wear whatever they feel like. since you cannot take your eyes off their face, you will not lok at their clothes. unless you are vidya balan. so whatever they wear seems to be in fashion. as a kid growing up in patna, my cousin visiting from pune would bring along with her the latest fashion trends. and they would stay put until her next visit. i do not have to mention how beautiful she was.
i wont be cruel to myself. two men have always complemented me on my beauty. one is my dad. and the other is vikas. that too when he is egged on by alcohol.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
life and living
Monday, May 12, 2008
give up on eating?
how thin she has become. have you seen Kareena Kapoor in her latest movie? she looks as thin as a reed. suddenly her cheek bones are so much more prominent and the pout always posing. since i have seen her on screen and also her effect on vikas i am considering size zero seriously. fuelled by people around me i started mulling over the option of working out. gym. thats the answer to all my problems.
but then, it's her job to look thin. like it's my job to write. so i have to be extra cautious even while smsing. (now, is that a word?). anyway, so she is just doing her job, which is fine and i dont have to be bothered because someone somewhere is doing a good job.
i had brownie with ice cream and chocolate sauce for lunch today.
long time no see
that brings me to appraisal. reminds me of school. infact, school report cards were more predictable. predictable in the sense that i knew what excuse i would give for low marks. but, you never know what resaon the HR will give for not so impressive appraisals. i mean, marks never depended on school's profit and loss. but what if they did? imagine the principal announcing, this year you wont get any marks because the new teacher has caused a dent in the school funds. or the Mumbai branch is not doing well, so we have to pretend that we are not doing well either. the more i think about the appraisal the more fidgety i get. so let's change the topic.
donno what else to talk about. catch you later.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
we in the east
Monday, March 10, 2008
5 you said?
5 minutes are enlightenment. At the coffee vending machine in office. 5 minutes are perfection. When I garnish the dish before it is attacked. 5 minutes are confusion. When with a handful of gel I try another hairstyle, and, in the same breath go back to the previous one. 5 minutes are flash-back. When I spot a primary-school friend in a crowded mall. 5 minutes are an hour. As I wait for my mother to walk out of my room before I swap the channel. 5 minutes are forgettable. When I gave my first extempore speech. 5 minutes are nail-biting. As I search my name in the passing-out list. 5 minutes are consequential. When the principal notices it is me booing the guest speaker. 5 minutes are a hunt. When one sock is in my hand and the other is god-knows where. 5 minutes are a challenge. As I try to convince my professor that I lost my assignment on way to college. 5 minutes are critical. When I am trying to control my bowel movement and at the same time speeding to reach home sooner. 5 minutes are fidgety. As I keep looking at the phone waiting for it to ring.
5 minutes are all the same. As I drive down the highway for miles and miles. 5 minutes are technologically challenged. As I leaf through the user’s manual of my fancy new gadget. 5 minutes are yes-no yes-no yes-no. When my father asks me to attend a relative’s wedding. 5 minutes are a discovery. When I am cleaning my room after ages. 5 minutes are a battle. As I bargain to buy my stuff at my price. 5 minutes are frozen. And I can go back to it in the photo album. 5 minutes are life. When I say no to burning it away at the end of a cigarette.
wat you reading?
Monday, March 3, 2008
i think i should eat something
Thursday, February 28, 2008
green signal
Thursday, February 21, 2008
today
Monday, February 18, 2008
no thank-you
it is probably well intentioned. but turns out like an over-done cake.
"you are looking good somehow." somehow???? i mean, shouldn't the full stop be placed after the second last word. another killer is, "you are looking good today" today. you dont look good everyday. today is the operative word.
but the clincher of the series is, "aaj tum itni achchi kaise lag rahi ho". thankfully, it was a dim-witted woman who said that. and most of the time dim-witted people end up saying such things. so it wasn't that much of a bolt. and how i wish she reads this.
Friday, February 15, 2008
a fork in the road
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
????
Thursday, February 7, 2008
i = she
marathon
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
home calling
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
please don't torture
that reminds me of my visit to PP Jewellers in Karol Bagh. my friend and i went exploring the Karol Bagh mkt. we chanced upon the over advertised PP jewellers showroom. so we stepped in. such heavy and tasteless neckpieces, i havent seen anything worse. there's was also a shilpa shetty there, madame tussads style, decked in jewellery.
that brings me back to photographs. there was also an age where i secretly tore away all my photographs, those were the pimply, confused, expanding, teenage days. i like flipping through black and white photographs. they have an antique feel to them. there's this family friend of ours whose drawing room is quite a visual treat. there are framed black and white photographs of his grandfather, great grandfather, and great great grandfather. being a muslim family, the ancestors had real long names. the teenage daughters of the family have a tough time remembering each of their names. obviously, whoever visits them for the first time is bound to ask, yeh photo mein kaun hai? and not being able to remember their forefathers' name is the biggest crime they could commit. that's not what i think, but that's how their father does.
and not to miss photographs, you are at a wedding, reception. your plate is full, with a portion of each of the dishes, and you are about to mouth the biggest morsel of your life..........click. you know how it feels.
growing out
the art of conversation
i curse gurgaon. the other day i had to take a lift back home from a colleague with whom i haven't chatted for more than 10 minutes, that is, if you add up all the small chats we have had. i tried my best to rope in another colleague. but i failed. 1 hour drive, where i ll have to keep conversing. i don't know why i thought it was my duty to keep him entertained while he was driving me home. thankfully, he wasn't the quiet types. and the topic he chose for his extempore was: fm stations of delhi. i could wander about in my thoughts while he went on and on. in between i just had to keep encouraging him, you are right. that not only kept him going, it also gave him the illusion that i too was a part of the conversation.
thankfully, there were lesser jams that day. i reached home in less than an hour.
ignorance is low marks
once our biology teacher asked us to state the position of fallopian tube in the human system. one of us, name with-held, answered that it's the tube which connects the eardrum to the outer part of the ear. now, we cannot really blame her. such names are confusing. anyways, to the uninitiated, fallopian tube is an integral part of the female reproductive system. her mistake was not out of this world. one can take years to explore one self.
another instance is when we were answering the history paper. the topic under scrutiny Indian Freedom Movement, and role of Hindus and Muslims. one of us, again name with-held, wanted to write, 'hindu and muslims fought shoulder to shoulder for India's freedom', instead she wrote, 'hindus and muslims fought soldier to soldier...'
Monday, February 4, 2008
free falling
thank god for lifts.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
nancy drew can screw
but Drew didnt vanish from my life without taking a toll on me. i thought i too should investigate the happenings around me. so my adventures began.
in my school there was this big glass and wood almirah which housed all the shields and trophies our school had won in inter-school competitions. just behind the almirah was a door. it was only visible when you stood at an angle from the almirah. between the almirah and the door, there was just enough space for a person to slide in. that is where my imagination took flight. there's a secret door leading to a room where the convent hides all the black money. i will bring it to light. over the next few weeks i kept an eye on the door. nothing much yielded. one day when the corridor seemed a bit deserted, i slid behind the door. my heart was beating in my mouth. i turned the knob of the door. it swung on its hinges. inside was a washroom. washroom?!!!
chaste and virtuous that the nuns were, their washroom in the school permises was also hidden away. so that no-one could know what business they are about when they answer the nature's call, and imagine them in a position doing the same. i guess so.
anyways, personally i moved on to sherlock holmes. and was never ambitious enough to emulate his doings.
Friday, February 1, 2008
b e l o n g
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
under the wear
while we have started giving so much importance to what lies beyond the exterior, does it also mean that if this trend continues unhindered, then in a few years human beings will also start giving less importance to the exterior and more to the soul within?
Monday, January 28, 2008
bird spotting
anyways, one particular day when we were walking back home something quite unexpected happenned. i must have been in 5th or 6th standard. i was walking with two of my friends, and a senior, a 12 grade student, was walking some 25-30 ft ahead of us. as we crossed the afore-mentioned spot, i guess the boys said something. our senior turned to retort. the Anglo Indian walked to the senior and replied backed. she slapped him. he slapped her back and turned to leave. she caught hold of his head by his hair. a scuffle followed, but the guy managed to escape with scratches on his face. our senior was left daring him to come and face her. with her hair pulled out of plait.
miraculously it so happened that as we took the next turn in the road we spotted a police patrol van. our senior went and reported to them. all this while we just stood in the background. that particular day she was the only one amongst the seniors. we couldnt do much to help her, except be there.
next day we got to know that the police had booked a case against him. and the same evening the Anglo Indian, along with his father and the beat police officer, made a visit to our senior's home to apologise. so that she would withdraw the case.
after completing my school, i moved out of patna. years later, after i had completed my graduation and PG, i was home visiting . it so happened that i crossed passed the spot. young girls of my alma mater were walking home, looking smart in the red pleated skirt. and what do i see, the anglo indian is still sitting at the spot with one of his old time friends. some habits are difficult to shed, i guess.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
why i hate gurgaon.
the tiring long drives often reminds me of my father's wish. the road should function on the same technique as the escalators. you just sit in your car, and the road keeps running. and what if my mood can be altered by changing the electricity in my nerves. can i be programmed to be happy always. and successful too. well, is the former mutually exclusive of the latter?
isn't it funny, where we start and where we end up?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
everyday
bus number 4
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
name calling
is it just an output of fertile imagination? i would like to believe it's more than that.
she and him
FEEL
Some where I had read that when you are really frightened you should feel the fear and go for it. FEEL THE FEAR AND GO FOR IT. I really find it helpful when I have to walk into my boss’ room with my resignation letter.
where it all starts
In today’s world I lose out because I am not nasty. Because I am not quick to reply to an insult. Because I don’t know how to respond if someone is making a fool of me in public. Because I am hesitant to fight for my rights. Because I can not nurture a relationship on false feelings.
And I also lose out because I grew up reading Chandamama. A kid’s magazine with high moral stories. Where the one who was good always wins. Where the unkind are always defeated. It made me believe in world which does not exist. It’s like growing up in a house with the colour white all around. And made to believe that the world outside is a replica of it. Now when I am on my own I keep searching for white in this black coloured world. I see it in specks here and there. But the black is bloating it away.
And my mother still lives in that white coloured house.