FLYING HIGH: A TRADITION FAST FADING

Kite flying is an art, which was been practised since ages in India. The art was initially an entertainment that later took the form of competition and was quite popular among children. Not only the rural but the urban places too saw kite flying as a sport, especially during occasions like Raksha Bandhan or Janamashtmi.  With the changes in lifestyle, the art of Kite flying started losing its fame. Lack of time and open spaces,  contributed towards a major decline in this graceful art. Left with few buyers, the market of kite makers also started shrinking.

A Kite Flying fest was organized for two days i.e. 12 and 13 Nov’11 at India Gate lawns. An initiative like this has helped many people relive that golden time when flying kites was the best pass time.

 The sky above India gate lawns was dotted with colourful kites on the first day of the fest i.e. Saturday, 12 Nov’11 post noon to dusk. Kites of unusual shapes and sizes soaring high in the sky was a visual treat. Organized by Delhi Tourism in association with Shahjahanabad Redevelopment Corporation and the Department of Art and Culture, this was an effort to revive the culture, which has been losing its popularity. Inaugurated by Chief Minister Sheila Dixit, she set the adrenaline gushing for all kite flyers by flying a colourful string of kites. The 20-foot string attached to the ground marked the festival symbolically.

Ranging from variety of colours and shapes, one could see a giant Hanuman kite to a Hercules size Spiderman Kite. There were stalls from various states to display the kites of their culture. The beautiful and shining kites of Jodhpur, Rajasthan symbolized the colourful state while kites at the UP stall had pictures of the Royal History depicted on them. Every kite had a message.

Spiderman Kite

Hanuman Kite

Charlie Kite

 The trees of India Gate lawns, were beautifully decorated with the strings of the kites (Firki) and the audience kept busy with passionately flying the kites in the open ground. Magic show organized for children was a major attraction in the evening. Delhi tourism had a stall distributing free reading material about the glorious History of the capital and the monuments standing tall with pride.

Cultural events trying to preserve our fading History is definitely a well-appreciated effort. We look forward to many such events which bind people to the fading past and rivet them to the roots. This was the first time ever, Delhi’s own Kite flying festival.

Love thy hair? I do..

From long to shoulder length and curly to straight, my black locks have withstood change of places, weather, pollution, tension and many such blows with time. I was quite fond of my long hair since my childhood. I kept them long until I came to Delhi for job.

With a sudden change of place and water, my curly locks gave away their charm for some time. They turned brittle and dry. To add to it, negligence towards my health resulted in hair fall. My comb often used to find my precious hair entangled in its teeth. Breaking the teeth would not have helped me, so I decided to chop off my long hair to shoulder length. Trust me, it worked well! I had read somewhere that if you get a regular haircut, hair grows better and healthy. You also get rid of split ends. My curly hair started bouncing with the new Razor hairstyle that I had donned those days. A regular oil massage helped revitalizing my hair gradually.

It was difficult for me to leave my hair open all the time since Delhi is extremely warm during summers and I was in a travelling job. Oops- marketing I mean. Hopping between cities and facing pollution/ dust/ different weather conditions, was a challenge for my hair every day. I switched to bun. Sounds funny but that really helped my hair to battle the odd conditions around. Tying a piece of cloth on my head protected it from dust and sun. However, that was temporary arrangement. I needed to find a long-term solution. My hair had outgrown the shoulder length Razor cut. I changed to Step Cut, as suggested my hair stylist. Steps looked great on my curly hair and leaving them open dint look bad at all. My hectic schedule at work left me with no time for oil massage or hair cut. The hair stylist asked me to change my shampoo and conditioner.

The little piece of advice worked wonders. I am thankful to Shaheen (my hair stylist) for that enlightened guidance. I could feel the difference in one wash when I used Dove for the first time. My hair turned soft and retained the shine gradually. The hair fall problem too, reduced largely. Yeah, there is always a first time and I thought of straightening my priceless curls for the first time that had grown longer until them. I loved my straight hair and I could not stop looking at them in the mirror. It was a temporary arrangement again. I fear that a permanent straightening will finish the volume, which my hair has.

 

I get a hair spa done every month. you know what, If you care for your hair, they care for you. Your hair don’t only make you look good, but also add charms to your personality. The kind of hairstyle you keep displays your mood and boosts your confidence. Change your hairstyle on occasions and see the different colors of your persona. A stroke on your head makes you feel good, running your fingers through your hair helps releases your tensions, isn’t it? Soft, caressing and lovely, that’s how your healthy hair should be while they should be cared for.

(AS A PART OF CONTEST FOR INBLOGGER)

Crossroads

“I want to take the roads less travelled,

Let me breathe some air unraveled,

I want to harbor the greener pastures,

Less thorny, more flowered”.

Sanjeev left the note on his table, packed his bags and left his home in the dark. The train from Ghaziabad station was scheduled for departure at 10:00 pm.

Sanjeev Gupta, popularly known as Sanju, was  a young dynamic graduate who did not want to carry on with the monotonous job for his entire life. He was least interested in his family retail business. Often when his dad left the shop under his supervision, Sanju attracted a huge crowd while performing mimicry, stand up comedy and various other acts. People knew him as a talented artist while his dad disliked his bend towards such stupid acts. Sanjeev’s mother was a quiet housewife who never raised her voice in front of her husband. Caught in a wrong marriage, the poor lady never complained of the tyranny she faced from her husband. A drunk Gupta used to beat his wife during her pregnancy too. Sanjeev’s younger sister Parul unfortunately was born with hearing impassiveness. Mr. Gupta was an unhappy man, complaining and beating his kids and hurling abuses at his wife each day. Nobody knew the reason of his behaviour since the Gupta family was an upper middle class family without any financial constraints.

Gupta’s misbehaviour grew unbearable with every passing day. He hated Sanju’s extra curricular activities and wanted him to join the family business. Once when Sanjeev mentioned his interest to take up theatre art as his career, Gupta unleashed his belt. Since that day Sanjeev’s desires grew with leaps and bounds to join acting school and try his luck in Mumbai. Kapoor sir, the dramatics instructor at Sanjeev’s college complimented & encouraged him to build his career in theatre, seeing his love & talent for this art.

……………………………………………………………

The train headed towards Mumbai.  He was confident but not too sure of what was there in store for him. He was ambitious but had no clue where to begin. He was talented but without any support in the new city. From the quiet lanes of Ghaziabad he was in a city which never sleeps. Sanju’s struggle began since the moment he landed in Mumbai, searching for something substantial, for something concrete.

…………………………………………

Sanju boarded the train but his mind was still at home, worrying about his mother and Parul. Was he being too selfish? He wondered what they do alone without him. His heart beating loudly and heavily. He felt he had taken a wrong decision. The train whistle blew loud and his heart pounded louder. The train jerked and moved slowly. Sanju jumped out of the train and rushed home.The sight of a drunk abusing father was definitely not pleasant, but at least he knew that his Mother and Sister were safe in his presence.

Sanju started helping his father in the business next day onwards.

WHICH ONE OF THESE ENDINGS DO YOU THINK IS MORE APPROPRIATE? SANJU FOLLOWING HIS DREAMS OR SUCCUMBING TO FAMILY PRESSURES?

Cross fire!!

The employee was caught taking a nap at work,

Boss said "See me in my cabin you jerk!"

"Are you not serious for your job"?

asked the boss to the poor guy,

who slogged himself everyday and was usually quite shy.

 

 

"Eight files are still pending, complete them at any cost,

else I hire a better employee and you can get lost!"

The employee snapped back "Fire me and pay me the dues right now,

I wont work for peanuts anymore, I take a wow"

 

Boss stared at the employee in disbelief,

thinking it might be his nightmare, 

Employee added "Everybody hates this job, Do you even care?

 

Labors are better than us I feel,

Eight hours of sleep is all I wanted,

No overtime for the extra hours we work,

these files make this office haunted!

 

You deducted my salary for my sick leaves,

you need a medical treatment I guess.

I broke up with my girlfriend because of you,

My life a silly mess!!!

 

For everybody it was a holiday,

but I was preparing your presentation,

why do you think I should work you,

when you are the source of my frustration?

 

Cost of living has gone sky high,

it has become impossible to survive,

work life balance has screwed big time 

I wonder Do i have my own life?

 

Terminate my services and relieve me from this prison,

because I want to live a normal life,

and there couldn't be a better reason"

 

The employee walked  out of the boss's cabin,

slammed shut the office door,

he smiled after the relief he got,

his eyes were no more sore :-)

 

Wrote this short poem while tossing on the bed waiting for electricity on a warm summer night.

The last remains

The stuffed suitcase was difficult to close.(She still does not have an almirah after so many years. She is ok without one anyway). She started pulling out the crumbled clothes which were shoved in the suitcase without washing since a week. Neha barely got time to wash her clothes during weekends. She thought of cleaning the suitcase at the same time.

Out came the red shirt which she had not worn since long.

A blue T-Shirt which had faded in patches.

An orange kurta that dint fit her anymore, yet she refused to throw it away because it was gifted by Megha, her dear younger sister.

A pair of worn out black jeans, shoved in the suitcase waiting for repair.

“Discard!” sighed Neha and piled the discarded clothes. Another pile was taken out to be washed. Neha dusted the edges of her suitcase. Slowly she pulled out all other clothes from the pale blue V.I.P suitcase which her mother had given to her when she first came to Jaipur from Patna. Light weight suitcases were not available during those days. A shy Neha had come to the pink city in search of a career as Patna was void of jobs then. A small village was where she was born and brought up and obtained high education despite pressures of getting married after she graduated from 12th standard. She shifted from one rented room to another in the span of her five years tenure in Jaipur. The suitcase too shifted with her. It was her mother’s wedding gift, so she could not have discarded it anyway. Neha thought of changing the newspaper laid at the bottom of the suitcase under the pile of clothes. It was dated way back in the year 2003. It had turned yellow and old with age. (It couldn’t have been older than the suitcase). She pulled out the torn newspaper from the suitcase to replace it with a fresh glossy newspaper. A bundle of envelopes and papers lied silently under the newspaper, resting peacefully & untouched. Were they not cared for or preserved carefully? Her hands reached for the stack of papers and she unfolded them one by one.

------------------------------------------

30 Sept, 2003

Dear Di,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of your health and spirits. I have soooooooo much to talk about. I am wondering where to start from 

First of all note my new yahoo id megha2001@yahoo.com. Now we can chat whenever we get time to come online. I am soo happy! But the only problem is that internet café is a little far from our house and Baba does not allow me to go there alone. Had u been here, he would have never stopped me.

Mmmmmmmmm I miss u, sachhi !! By the way did the kurta fit u? I made it as per your choice, v shape neck and full sleeves, and its ur fav colour! I am almost through with the hobby classes, likely to get the diploma within 2 weeks. Now I can make good embroidery too. U shud see the cushion covers I made. Maa is full of praise for me  :-) And a piece of good news now! A new Mc Donalds outlet has been inaugurated in the city. We will have a treat when u come next time and m sure u will love it. I m quite excited about it. Rest all is well here. Baba has recovered completely from the stroke. Now he goes for a morning walk daily. Good na? I will take Maa also for morning walks soon. But u know how shy she is.

Hope u r taking care of ur health too. Maa keeps reminding u to have fruits. I will be joining u within few years and become a famous fashion designer. And I stepped on the threshold of my dream only because of ur support. I love u a lot.mmmmuuuaaah!!

Chalo, I wont make the letter lengthy now. U better take care of urself and don’t worry about us. We all are fine and want to see you soon.

Loads of love,

Ur Meghu

---------------------

Neha smiled. She picked up the next letter.

18 Oct,2003

Dear Di,

Hi! How are you? We are fine here. Don’t get worried about me yaar. I will recover soon. It was just a stomach ache, that’s it.

I have designed a beautiful skirt for u.(Maa wont allow u to wear it here. U take it with u in Jaipur ok?) U remember Tanu, my classmate? She is getting married next month! My god, I cant imagine how cud she agree to get married so early? Shez just 18!! I was shocked. She has no aim in her life or what? Bloody aimless female! I will become a fashion designer and make everybody feel proud of me one day.

Ok lets change the topic. Did maa tell u that we would get our house painted this Diwali? I want my room pink in colour :-) ok don’t frown, we can get it done half pink and half orange hehe!

Baba bought a new kitten for the godown. The kitten is sooooooo cute and fluffy. I have named it snowhite. It’s a smart kitten di. Its killed so many rats of the godown. I will mail u its pictures wen I go to the café next.

Maa went to a pandit to show ur kundali. He said that marriage is still not on the cards. I was quite relieved to hear that. U deserve more in ur life yaar. I am happy that u studied and went out of this small place. I will do the same. My exams are due next month. I will crack the entrance exams, wish me good luck. Love

Urs MEGHU

.......................................................................................

2 Dec,2003

Hi Di,

Dint get time to write since a long time. Sorry for that.

We all missed u a lot during Diwali. Ma was cribbing that I mess up more than helping her. Hehehe! How perfect are u, I realized then! We are incomplete without u yaar. I know it was difficult for you to take leaves since u recently joined office. Its difficult to make Maa understand though.

Hey, we got our house painted before Diwali, and guess what, our room has been painted in ur fav colour. Now come on, thank me :-) I wish I could say all this to over the phone, but u know how high the STD call rates are na.

Snow white has grown bigger and cuter than before. Lovely cat it is. Well, Maa must have told u everything. I am ashamed of myself Di. I wanted to appear for the entrance exams this time. I was so well prepared. But that stomach ache was so severe that I couldn’t bear the pain. Doc said that it was only gas. Maa is getting worried unnecessarily. The ultrasound reports will arrive within next few days. So till next year of entrance exams again, I asked baba to get me enrolled in B.A correspondence from IGNOU. Good idea yeah?

U know, Ravi Uncle has been paralysed waist down. Poor uncle, he’ll never walk on his own now. Aunty is a very strong lady. She did not loose her courage at all. She has started working in a school and supporting her family. Maa often visits them with cooked food. I feel sorry for Ravi uncle. His kids are so young ya. But hats off to auntie for being so brave. Nobody in the neighborhood is as bold as her.

Hey Di, whts ur plan for new year? If u can manage leaves then, please come na. Spent Diwali without you, don’t want to spend New year without you. U r the jaan of our family, u know that. I miss sleeping with u. Pillows cant fill the empty portion of our bed. Often I wake up with a jerk thinking how much I miss cuddling you. Our room is half empty, half lively, our house is misses ur aura, ur noble presence. Now when the room is painted orange, it reminds me of u every second.

Ok I gotta sleep now. Feeling tired. U please take care and don’t worry about me.

Love u loads,

Meghu

............................................................

2 Feb,2004

Dear Di,

Hey! How have u been my sweety pie?

My medicines were very strong and I feel drowsy all the time. I hate the taste. But I am sure I will recover soon. Ulcer does not last for long na. Afterall I have been punished for eating excess spicy food. I recall you scolding me for eating spicy without limit. I am sorry I should have listened to you then. Maa tries to keep the room infection free, so every thing has been washed all over again. I have to eat boiled food, less salty no spicy. I am not allowed to meet Snowhite too. That bad. U ask Maa to let me go out of the house atleast. She will listen to you.

These days I am reading all the Sydney Sheldon novels u had left here. Now I find them interesting. He writes well seriously. But I don’t like to be confined to my room ya. It feels like I am imprisoned. I cant stitch or make embroideries. Anyway, Ma told me that you went to Ajmer? Kooooool….I will go with u next time. Heard a lot about that place. Let me recover once, then I will surely visit Jaipur and be with u.

Next Month u will complete 6 months na? U make us feel proud of u always. Baba never stops praising u in any social gathering. We love u all. Accha u know about Kaku di’s marriage na? Its in Kolkata in December and we all have to go, else Kaku di will be very upset. So apply for leaves in advance ok? And there is a surprise which I could not keep to myself. Baba will buy me a mobile phone as soon as I recover. Great na? Then we will chat and sms on mobiles instead of writing these long letters.

I hope I dint make it long this time. Will write again soon. M wondering hu will post this letter?

Anyway, love u love love.

Meghu

………………………………………..

Tears swelled up in Neha’s eyes after reading Megha's last letter. An undetected cancer  led to a wrong treatment and prolonged illness. Neha pulled the orange kurta close to herself. It smelled of Mehga, her presence, her full of life attitude, her smile, her last gift for Neha, whom she loved the most. Megha, who lost her life at a young age leaving her ambitions unfulfilled gave hopes to everyone, to live each day and smile even in the toughest times. Neha  quickly entered the bathroom to wash the pile of clothes.

She kept her promise. She did not cry. The orange kurta was put back in the suitcase with great care. And the letters one by one.

The last remains preserved again, carefully.

Thanks Giving

Was going through the U.S list of holidays, when I came across “Thanks Giving Day”. I love the U.S Culture of exchanging gifts and presents for this day to say thanks to people. I do not how much importance would this day hold in India if added in the Indian Calendar, but I am sure of the popularity, at least among the youth.

We usually exchange gifts to our near and dear ones, friends, business alliances to thank them for their presence, for the times they helped, for their business partnership so to make the bonds stronger. Well, on the same note, India has many occasions for celebrations to make their bonds stronger. Even I would like to thank my friends and known ones for being a part of my life and for bringing smiles to my life and helping me in every possible manner.

But wandering in the lanes of my memories, I would not forget thanking those who made a big difference in my life, without having known me at all. Their presence affected me greatly and definitely made a huge impact on me. It would not be untrue if I said that had those unknown people not extended their helping hands to me, I wonder what would I have faced, or probably I would not have been what I am today.

I never forget the day of 15^th July,2006 which brings tears to my eyes when I recall the harsh memories of the days. I was going through a tough time full of disappointments and failures. Every effort seemed to have gone down the drains and every door blocked which I had envisaged to bring success to me. The three years hard work which I put in for my career, did not work out. I lost hopes from all the colleges because of the poor circumstances then. My planning failed, my dreams shattered and I was all dull and sad. To add to the dismay was my mom’s ill health and the growing pressure on me, which I failed to resort to. I stopped eating, and spent sleepless nights. My health deteriorated with each passing day. Mental depression pulled me deeper inside and physically I was reduced to a skeleton. Breaking my own promise made to myself, I decided to join BPO again until the next academic year.

I was almost a bag of bones with no strength left in me. In  the warm summer month, I gathered all my courage and ventured out from Punjabi Bagh for a BPO interview to Greater Kailash. Without food since many days, without a bit of strength left in me, I was running high temperature that day and travelling in buses added to my fatigue. A tiring day at the interview, I was returning from the interview venue in the bus. My friends (who are my life lines) were waiting for me at my home whom I had stopped meeting in depression. My head was spinning and I could feel that everything blacked out in front of my eyes. I decided to de board the bus at ESI Hospital and take an auto to home. In a fragile voice I asked the auto wala to take me to Punjabi Bagh. He could barely hear me and I tried to speak again with the last drop of my strength, when suddenly nothing was visible to me. My strength gave up and I fainted. Just before my head hit the ground, a pair of hands held me to stop falling down. My feet and palms were ice cold. I felt a lady rubbing my palms while she lay my head on her shoulders. Another gentleman made me sip water. A group of people who seemed to be unskilled workers stood surrounding me trying to bring me back to consciousness. They were those whom I did not know, who helped a stranger without any reason. A gentleman asked me my family members’ name and number. In my half conscious state the only name I could remember was Abhishek. The gentleman dialed Abhi’s number from his own phone and asked him to immediately come to ESI bus stop explaining my emergency. MAPSA rushed to the spot and took me to the hospital. I recovered from the depression within few weeks and coped up with the pressures. A shudder passes through my body recalling this incident every time. Today on thanks giving day, I wish to thank those people from the bottom of my heart. Had they not helped me, I would been lying on the road shredded in pieces. I dint even see them or get to know their names, neither did I get a chance to thank them for their kindness. I do believe in God and after this incident I firmly believe that God exists in form of angles whom he sends in the hours of distress. I want to express my gratitude to those helpful whose timely help saved me and helped me in getting my life back which I had lost, well almost. God bless them. I can never repay them for what they did for me. Thank you are only two words I can say today.

The second incident runs back to August 2009, when I was serving an organization in the capacity of marketing executive. I was on business trip to Agra and was returning to my hometown Dehradun via bus at night. Since I was bold and daring enough, so travelling alone at night never scared me. The comfortable AC bus left from Agra Bus stop sharp at 8pm and was crossing the borders of U.P smoothly. The first stop over was at Aligarh bus stand around 11:15pm. The passengers got down for break and sip tea. I too was tempted to eat something and de boarded the bus to buy some tea and biscuits. I had tea in the bus and while all passengers were outside. I did not make a note of time and de boarded the bus again to go to the washroom. That was the biggest mistake I made. I hardly took few minutes inside the washroom. When I came out, my heart skipped a beat - The bus was not there!

One can imagine the condition of girl then. No matter how bold she may be, hawk eyes follow a lonely girl. I was haunted by the thought of the risk I ran in that isolated bus stop without even having the bus number with me. My luggage, my office files, even was passport was inside the bus which left me there! I wanted to kill the driver, or wanted to cry, I had no idea what to do. How could he leave me behind? How did he not count the number of passengers?  I blamed myself for being so foolish to de- board the bus again.

I had no number with me to call, nobody around to help me, nobody whom I could trust at time. My heart was sinking every single minute. “Rahul” was the first name which struck my thought while looking around for help. Rahul is my friend in Agra, who was there with me on the Agra business trip. Immediately I dialed his mobile phone number awaiting a response from him. But he dint receive my call. I was in distress! I had no clue what should me my next step? Should I raise a hue and cry or call my family? How would my family members help me at that time? Where would I spend the night now? I was so vulnerable then, I shook with fear.

I went up to a gentle man and asked him about the bus. He said that the bus had left 2 minutes ago. Looking at my condition, he offered me help. Since the bus would have been far away, we could catch it on the way, said the gentle man. My instincts asked me not to trust a stranger in the dark hours of night, that too in a place like Aligarh! But I had no choice. My need overpowered my fears and I accepted the lift on his motorbike. I was about to cry and my voice was heavy. The gentle man asked me to calm down and not worry. He said that in case we could not spot the bus, then we could go to the nearest police station. But poor me, I dint even know the bus number! That 5 minutes ride on the bike with my heart pounding loudly every second was the most terrible time of my life which I can never explain verbally. Was I doing the right thing to trust a stranger was ringing in my ears. Cold sweat on my forehead, a sinking heart, hundreds of apprehensive questions in my mind….. I can feel the goose bumps while writing this.

Few meters of race on the bike but the bus could not be spotted anywhere. I felt I was about to have a heart attack. The gentle man turned his bike around and speeded to police station at the bus stop. On the way he kept asking me to keep calm and be brave. My mind was buzzing and spinning heavily and kept thinking what to do. Tears were at the corner of my eyes. I was silently preparing myself for the worse questions the Police men would ask me and blame me for de boarding the bus at the wrong time. I was accusing myself and calling myself stupid. My situation was similar to Kareena’s railway station scene of JAB WE MET.

We reached the bus stop and there I saw a miracle- The bus had returned in search of me!! My tears of dismay turned to tears of rage and I had a big fight with the conductor for his carelessness. Half the people blamed me for being careless, while other half supported me. After the big scene created, I was asked to get inside the bus to resume the journey. Hastily I got inside and the bus speeded on the U.P roads.

I realized that in a hurry, I had not thanked the gentle man for his kind act. I don’t know his name, neither could see him clearly in the dark. But his presence was next to God’s presence for me.  Thank you uncle for your helpfulness. I wish I could meet you and thank you in person. Thanks giving day is a good occasion to express my heart felt gratitude to you for that day.

God bless you all.

Ladies' Special

It’s a common place for students and working professionals. It’s a common place for Ladies to bind together. It’s a place to take refuge in each other’s comfort. It’s a place where the ladies shed their frustrations and kilos. 

Surprised? It’s my neighborhood ladies’ Gym, The Gym Fitness Factory. I am not a frequent visitor, nor do I hit the gym, however at times I drop in to collect the house key from my sister or take shelter from the rain.

A small place equipped with basic gym machines, only for ladies.  Steppers, swiss balls, treadmill and other machines whose names I am unaware of , are always occupied with ladies working out on them. FM radio playing in the background makes the gym a lively vibrant place accompanied by the chatting of the fairer sex. “I gained 2 kgs after consuming chocolates” sighed Arti while working out on the tread mill whereas Prerna’s happiness knew no bounds to see the weighing machine measuring her weight two kilos less.

The instructor Raju, popularly addressed as “Bhaiyya”, irrespective of the age of the ladies, in the gym is a friend-philosopher-guide for all. They can confide in him and believe him blindfolded. The diet chart becomes no less than LOC which they follow strictly, more than their religion. When nobody has time to listen to the stories of their fluctuating weight or a tempting dish which they resisted, its Bhaiyaa who lends his patient ears to the repeated emotions. Friendly advice, sweet motivation and a warm smile is what he showers like an angel. Bhaiyya definitely commands the place along with their respect.

Dr. Rekha, a practicing doctor in AIIIMS, Juhi, a college student, Mrs. Sharma, a mother of two kids, Nina, an engineer, Smita, an aspiring model and my sister Preeti, are few regular visitors of the Gym. Different age groups, different professions, different races, all dissolve in one mission- Loose weight and keep fit. The common mission binds them together. Nobody mocks at those are overweight, nobody laughs at those whose clothes are always bought oversize, its care and concern for each other hence giving them a much needed mental support.

This ladies gym is not a modern expensive  airconditioned gym, but definitely its class apart. After a hard day in college or work, the ladies socialize in this fitness factory. They vent out, speak their heart out and most important, share the experience of their bravery. Yeah, their stories of how bravely did they avoid ice cream at someone’s birthday or pitied themselves watching others hog Golgappa’s. Ladies in the factory do not have blood relations, but share a common goal, have a close support of each other. I found all eyes staring at me, once I had entered the gym to meet my sister for some work. I could sense the perplexed looks on their faces about my questionable presence there, since there was no extra fat which I had to lose. Amidst the eyes following me, slowly I grabbed a seat in the corner of the bench waiting for Preeti to finish her abs. Bhaiyya was busy helping Geetanjali, another plum lady, to do her sit ups. Preeti made me sit at Bhaiyya’s place and I played a fitness instructor for the first time. I enjoyed helping her do her sit ups and realized how much do these ladies go through each day! The social taboo of being tagged as Obese or “Tuntun” is actually tormentous. Social acceptance becomes a big issue for them which chases them in their nightmares too. Preeti ‘s goal is to keep fit rather than loose weight (She is not fat, by the way), which the ladies should follow.

The fitness factory is a religion, a mission, a common platform, a thread closely tying individuals towards the pain they share, the social acceptance and the social taboos.

I see you, do You see me?

Contest entry for blogadda.com http://blog.blogadda.com/2010/06/30/being-invisible-for-day-contest

Refer to Pringoo.com

Mr. India had sent ripples across the county by its innovative concepts. I refer to my friends as Mr. India who barely show up online or keep in touch. Be it Navjot or Prithvi, they have earned the proud title “Mr. India” from me pertaining to their “invisibility”. Years after the movie hit the box office, it still creates a fantasy. I still wonder, what life would be if I turn invisible. End number of times I have participated in school essay writing competitions about the same. Same nostalgia comes running to me through this bolgadda contest today.

It fills me with trill and leaves me goose bumped with the thought that I would be invisible! Mr. India’s gadget would me strapped to my wrist and people wouldn’t be able to see me! Imagine the excitement and the sunning things I can do! Often I have heard others saying that the invisible power would make them rich, would eradicate all their problems an all. But aren’t there so many things to do beyond getting rich? Isn’t there a world beyond greed, where one has all the capability to do anything, feel happy, and make the world a happy place? Ah! I know I am sounding philosophical, but that’s true I swear!

I don’t want to loot money from rich to help the poor, like Mr. India did, neither do I want to be an invisible Robin Hood . With such an incredible power I think of doing wonders! How about travelling across the world without paying airfare? Or the idea of visiting the Africa wild safari, the mesmerizing Egyptian pyramids, the Bermuda triangle, being invisible, just leaves me breathless! Considering, that travelling happens to be my passion, this power of invisibility would take me to places where I could not imagine going as visible. What a trip would be like, around the world in 80 days or in the eight wonders of the world? I can hear my heart pump with excitement…lub dub..lub dub…

I wouldn’t have had to bother about buying a costly ticket to witness the thrilling FIFA world cup or IPL matches, which set the adrenaline pumping high and the crowd roaring with every score! I’d love to be invisible. Ah! Hopefully some day!!

If this power is used positively, then sure Maoist attacks could be prevented and save the lives of the Indian soldiers. I wish I could detect the deadly plans and stop the attacks..Ok, my patriotism overpowers my fun factor here.

Wearing the gadget and becoming invisible any time certainly gives me an opportunity to spook my Hari sadu  boss. (Only if he doesn't use his red goggles to see me. hahaha!! ) Sneaking into an ice cream parlour to hog on my favourite flavours, travel free of cost on the Metro trains, be a part of hi–fi social event, the freedom of doing anything, going anywhere and the list continues..and so does the dream of being invisible one day!

I would walk on Ma’s favorite carpet with my slippers on, but  she would not yell at me! My sis will not question anybody when I’d wear her top which I like so much! I can imagine my brother bumping into me with a stunned look on his face. But not even once would he wonder that what did he bump into?  The cup rising in air and the coffee being sipped by the invisible me. My family being aware of my presence but definitely cannot see me with naked eyes. Feels good to be attend glamorous functions, and of visiting the wonders of the world free of cost. But what’s the point when I can’t get my pictures clicked? What’s the point socializing without having seen by people? The fun & excitement is a little short lived to be turned to reality.

Though it gives a feel good factor for some time, had blog adda not brought up this topic, the fun would have been lost in the pages of old essays without triggering that excitement or wandering of the mind in the lanes of creative thought! Mugambo Khush Hua..Ya true!!  :-)

The small wish list..

I picked up the folded paper from Tarun’s table and saw names of movies scribbled on it. I was about to trash it when he snatched the paper from my hand and thrust it in his pocket.

“What will you do with this stupid list”? I asked him, cleaning the mess on his table.

“It’s a list of those movies I wanna watch before I turn 25” replied Tarun seriously.

“Are you retiring post you turn 25?” I snapped back.

“There are so many things in life I wanna do. Its just a small wish list before 1/4^th of my life, so that I don’t crib for things I missed”.

I wanted to tell him how I had also made a wish list couple of years back. The only difference was that my wish list consisted of books to read and places to visit. However I didn’t say anything and smiled back at him.

His simple words had depth and lot of meaning in them.

Preeti has always been cribbing about being overweight. God save me whenever she goes for a diet plan. Thanks to internet that she came to know about GMD, an easy way to lose weight without working out. More than her, it was tough for me… (to chop kilos of fruits and vegetables and cook a quantity meant for 5 people. Trust me, it’s horrible!).

“I want to lose weight through GMD because I don’t have time to hit the gym .I want a new job which would leave me with some time for myself”.

Few months later…………

New, better job..more time for self.. joined gym…but……….

“This is not a good gym. I want a better one”. I silently prayed she dosen’t resort to GMD again.

And her wish list continues till date.

Akash wished, God wouldn't have snatched his wife to leave their 5 year old son alone in his company.

Rohit wished, he could earn more and improve his family’s financial condition. He wished for a decent job.

I wanted to write more, but running short of time…may be I see this in a form of a book some day. (Ah, another wish !!)

Lord make everybody’s wish list come to an end, may be, some day.

Blindfolded

India..the land of peace? The land of tolerance? Is it because of its tolerance, that it took more than one year to prove KASAB, guilty? Somebody who was seen on national TV massacring people, needed no introduction. However Indian Law, as bound by its nature of its outdated Justice process, struggled to collect evidence against him! To add to the shame, we were stranded speechless and helpless when Pakistan refused to accept Kasab’s Pak origin! Besides this, Kasab had the guts to deny himself guilty.

Post the tedious job of proving him guilty, Kasab fell ill end number of times. To keep him alive was a costly affair. Shifting him from one location to another in full security, guarding on him 24X7, expenditure on his medicines and daily provisions etc costed the administration a fortune. Not even a part of this amount was compensated to the victims. Had the same amount been spent for the repairs to the damages, I would have called the Indian jurisdiction a well managed intelligent body. News channels are bustling with headlines that the President will ensure the speedy execution of his Capital punishment. That’s so kind of her lest another hijacked aircraft should be ransomed for his release. Ah!! My heart bleeds to that.

Not only the cost, but there are chances of his appealing to numerous apex courts for reduction in his punishment or pleading for sympathy.

Needless to mention, India definitely needs revision in its policies and laws. It took more than a year for the law to prove Kasab guilty! It is ridiculous. Not only Kasab, there are numerous infamous cases in India which testify the fact that it’s high time for India to gear up with its Law book. Jesicca Lal, Madhumita, Nithari, Nitish Kataria, are few cases to quote which proves the inefficiency of Indian Law to provide timely justice. Delayed justice is often equivalent to denied justice. The Victim’s family keeps waiting for years before they get the final verdict. And for those years, the guilty becomes a liability for the administration. Is it worth?

Indian administration should set up a strong mechanism which would provide timely justice without the prolonged delay in scrutinizing the facts/evidences. When situation was so obvious and explicit, with a heinous crime like this, I guess much time was wasted in proving his Pak origin. Kasab too knew that it wasn't easy to prove him guilty so easily, in spite of the witness present. So much is the confidence of others on our loose law system! Manjeet Singh aka Sarabjeet Singh who was of Indian soil, was detained by the Pak authorities accusing him of crossing the borders illegally and levelled charges against him of bomb blast in Karachi. Without a concrete proof or evidence how easily did Pakistan pass a death sentence for him, while Indian authorities went head over heels asking Pakistan to agree to his Pak origin. Can somebody imagine the amount of precious time and resources ,we were at loss? In that span of time, Kasab could have been exchanged for another hijacked plane! Pheewwwww!!!! God save us and the snail speed Indian Law system.

The citizens of India are ready to spur venom against the national symbol of hatred-Kasab, yet it is taking a good amount of time to execute his death sentence. Can somebody answer why, when it didn’t take seconds for Kasab to recklessly shoot people during his killing rampage?

Sunny Deol starrer “Damini’s” dialogue “taareekh pe taareekh” stands so relevant here!!

Untamed

There was heavy blood shed. Brutal murder. My heart went out to those who lost their lives. My eyes were flooded with tears and I was a bundle of wreck. My heart was bleeding to see them die one by one. The bodies of the helpless men lied in pieces all over. Fire, dust, blood, weapons lay as an aftermath of the war. I couldn’t do anything but shed tears silently. The soldiers sacrificed their lives for their country. India must have been so proud of the brave hearts who didn’t think for a second to take the bullet in their chest and fight the enemies just for the country! Hats off to the brave soldiers. But loss of lives was definitely an irreparable loss. I felt helpless and so incapable of saving the heroes. It was sad, scary and a heart rendering view. The lights were switched on and the crowd started moving toward the exit. My cheeks were still wet after the super hit movie “BORDER” ended.

She was shattered. She was in tears. I hugged her and she cried like a baby in my arms. People around us stared at us. The man who was responsible for this, kept apologizing, but it was useless to say sorry post the great loss. The damage was already done.  She kept looking at what she had lost with swollen tearful eyes.  It was painful to part with the most loveable and precious possession. After all it had taken 6 tedious years to grow her beautiful hair waist long! The hair dresser felt like a criminal, ready to be blown apart by Preeti, to have her hair cut shorter than waist length. Tears kept rolling down her eyes the whole day.

It was Astami, the 8^th day of Durga Puja in 2000. Mom, sis, my bro and I were heading towards the Pooja baari for the grand celebration, when suddenly my bro’s shoe broke and we returned home to get it changed. My Mom was struggling with Abhijit’s new pair of shoes while the door bell rang loud. I rushed to collect the telegram from the postman. Mom covered her face with her palms. Abhijit was too young to understand the reason behind the ladies of the family crying. I had been courageous and fought my tears back till I went to Dad’s shop to inform him of Naani’s demise. Mom was inconsolable. The telegram was clutched in her hand, and tears kept rolling down her eyes the whole day.

Divya returned to the hotel room while talking on the phone. She saw my red eyes and tear stained face. Instantly she came to know what was wrong. Disconnecting her phone immediately, she placed her hand on my shoulder and politely said “Don’t worry, I am there with you”. These consoling words of her made me feel weaker and lonelier. That day brings tears to my eyes even today. She tried to cheer me up and stayed with me the whole night. I felt alone probably for the first time. The thought, to live alone for the first time, had scared me. I touched dad’s feet to seek his blessings. The moment dad kept his hand on my head, my heart almost skipped a beat. I had to live away from my family, manage everything on my own and “grow up”. Dad left me in Divya’s company, my closest friend now and my favorite roommie. I returned to the hotel room and cried for hours missing my family and feeling lost. It was my first job in Delhi and the first moment when I had to be away from my family. Tears kept rolling down my cheeks till Divya came.

Tears….Untamed tears…!!!

REALITY SHOWS

I have been  watching “FEMINA MISS INDIA -the making “ on Zoom. Couple of days back I was following DANCE INDIA DANCE on Zee Tv. Sony TV is busy showcasing INDIAN IDOL these days like each year. Colors channel gained good TRPs with KHATRON KE KHILAADI and India’s got talent.TV channels have been bustling with unlimited reality shows and surprisingly people watch it whole heartedly inspite knowing the reality behind the scenes. Ah! that holds true for me too!! I loved Dance India Dance . India’s got talent inspired me to learn contemporary dance. Every reality show holds a special importance in everybody’s life. My friend Sid participated in Indian Idol-1 but was shown the exit during the initial screening. Still he watches Indian Idol without fail! My ex-colleague Swati was a part of MTV Roadies who watches the series with equal enthusiasm till date despite being voted out so heartlessly. She definitely cherishes the moments of adventure and fun.

But what makes the reality shows so exciting for everybody? Why do people watch these with so much interest and charm? Why do people flock to the gates of the auditions when they know they are not well trained? Well, there could be many reasons. Everybody wants to be in limelight, famous and be in news for some reason. One never knows where does the luck factor works or who knows the judges might like somebody instantly. There are many testimonials to this fact in end number of reality shows.  Indian Idol, Fame Gurukul etc are few shows to begin with the list of examples.(Of course I don’t want to name the participants on this social networking site lest their fans should outburst against me and write venomous messages for me!!)

All the ideas are copied from the western reality shows, none of Indian origin… anyway who cares!! !!! Big Boss , was one pathetic  reality I ever watched and hate it from the bottom of my heart( Fans please don’t kill me!!) I hated “Is Jungle se Mujhey Bachao” where the participants were asked to consume mixture of animal spleen, liver, testicles, do all sorts of crazy things in a so called jungle and crown the winner for the jungle mania!! (By the way, what was Mankea Gandhi doing then? I shouldn’t be saying this..I am a member of People for animals after all. Ok , don’t jump to conclusions before I say anything. The animals were domesticated ones which are nor endangered and are consumed in daily lives.) Whatever, I simply hated this horrible reality show of the jungle mess, the celebrity tantrums and the loosely written script.

Ya…reality shows are scripted, don’t be surprised. Even the results are pre-decided. Public voting just occupies the public and huge income for the telecom giants. A participant from a particular community, caste or tribe attracts audience from the same social circle who pleads for votes. No wonders why do people glue to these reality shows to vote for their “favorite” participant. No offences meant, my mom does that each time! A Bengali participant occupies a special place in my mom’s heart always…be it a singing show or dance competition.

Want to see real footage? Switch to National geographic or discovery yaar!!At least they make some sense!

A lost friend

He would have been a grown up man today, probably working in an MNC or running his business. Or may be pursuing some professional course -of his choice, of something which he liked. But what did he like? What was he passionate about? Let me think….uh!! to hard to recollect..it was a long time back that I remember anything apart from his shy smile and dark eyes. And we were too young .  Students of second standard, Prashant and I were classmates and next door neighbours. I was a frequent visitor to his place to catch up on my missed class work or to play with him at times. His younger bro Ankush and a cute sister Gudiya were adorable siblings. Prashant was a quiet child and very shy, to such an extent that he refused to go to anybody’s place for school work or notes. His mom used to call me to their place and that’s how I became a regular visit at Prashant Singhal’s place. We became best childhood buddies , used to play often and do our home work together.

Singhals were a happy family. A happy go lucky family of our neighbourhood, as a child I had always seen them smiling and enjoying each moment of their lives till that unlucky day. I still don’t remember  the date..after all I was young. So was Prashant. I have the faded picture of his in my mind when I had saw him last evening. Well, actually the last evening of his life.

He loved cycling. That evening too, he went on his bicycle to enjoy the evening. (I think now I recollect one of his hobbies-Cycling. But how irrelevant is it now, I suppose). His grand mom felt quite restless when he did not return till late. His mom went crying to the police station with his dad to report Prashant’s missing from the place where he had gone cycling. The whole night saw a tensed Singhal family, probably for the first time. I remember my mom worrying about him and peeping into the Singhal house every fifteen minutes. Prashant’s father was frantically wandering on the streets with his scooter to search for his eldest son. It was a terrible night for everybody.

And the news arrived, the next morning..of what I guess most of them had anticipated. Prashant’s body was fished out from the manhole right outside the construction site of their new house. Time of death- late evening.Last remains- his slipper in the right foot and his cycle outside the house. What pushed him to his death was the reason that he was not accompanied by anybody to the construction site where the open manhole invited his death while he was jumping over it, all by himself. Days passed mourning and wailing in the Singhal house grieving over the irreparable loss of the eldest son of the family.

Soon, things started turning normal and Prashant started fading from the memories of everybody. Yesterday when I was talking to my brother Tarun (catch him at tarunisblogging.blogspot.com) he sounded upset. He too was grieving over the loss of his facebook friend whom he had befriended three days ago. Consoling him, suddenly Prashant’s thought struck me. Had he been alive, he would have been somebody like me.

I can’t say I miss Prashant, however I do feel that every human life is meant for something, lives for a purpose and creates a void after he leaves. I was too young to feel that void, but I do feel bad that he left the world much before he could see anything.

God bless your soul my friend.

This was an ode to Prashant Singhal.

A day in life of anybody

I like my boss, she is supportive, but my job profile sucks.

I love the job, but I have b#%@ colleagues.

My workplace is too far from my residence, which drains all my energy while commuting.

My job pays me well, but I hate the work.

Seems, people keep cribbing each day with new excuses yet they go to work. Why? Coz life has to move on. Simple! Sometimes its money which stops you from changing your job, at times u have no other job in hand. U hurl abuses at ur boss or ur job profile, u still come to work every morning to make a living for urself.

Even the fingers of our hands are not equal, so how can life be a smooth ride? Impulsive people like me leave their jobs without keeping an option in hand. Others create a job opportunity and then make a move. But atleast I don’t crib! Haha…I was at peace of mind for few days before I began job hunting again.

I remember I continued to work in a BPO unwillingly since I had to take care of my MBA course fee.I had the worst boss on this planet, I hated my work but thankfully I got colleagues who were angels for me. I could endure all the pain at work because of the good companions whom I had befriended at the workplace. Nidhi, Tarun, Vikram still continue to be my good friends long after we quit that organization.Its important to have supportive colleague at workplace I guess. Bless you guys.

We get good education to grow and earn in life, have a family to support, money keeps u running and perform the responsibilities. No what bogged down u feel at work, no matter how demotivated u feel, u still have a reason to keep going. Correct me if m wrong. U might be fighting at home and vent it in office and in return bring the frustration back home, the cycle still keeps going. U ought to think positive and move ahead.

God hate me, so he has piled up all problems for me only…….Love life screwed up. At office boss insults me, To add to the deep wounds I don’t get a conveyance to commute and miss my meals too. My appraisals are on hold, my colleagues mock at me and I vent it all at my child or family member.I had a fight with my best friend and fought with the autowala too. At night I shed tears and pray to god to help me.(Funny,nobody prays to God when one is happy). Anyway, that’s a typical diary of a common man whose level of frustration is getting high each day. Yet he dosen’t quit hopes and continues to struggle…..because there are no gains without pains.We should be thankful to god that we have the physical ability to work. Think of the ones who are visually or physically impaired. Think about those “special children” whose parents cry each day and leave no stone unturned to give them a normal life.

Life is not a cakewalk.U need to be tough and prove ur mettle in every step,lest one should overpower u. Be thankful be gratified and keep moving ahead gradually.