Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna

It was this day, 79 years ago, when three brave sons of India walked proudly towards the ultimate sacrifice. Singing 'सरफरोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है' as legend has it.

I dedicate this post to the three of them, as well as an entire generation of lesser known Indians who chose the path of fighting for what they believed was right, against all odds, driven only by a fire fueled by desire to see the country independent.

Also, Bhagat Singh being my idol, this is in remembrance of the maturity, grit, tact and foresight shown by this great leader, visionary and thinker who gave the freedom struggle its cutting edge and brought it to the foreburner of day to day politics. All at an age of 23 years.

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if he was saved (I believe Gandhi could have) and having a firebrand like him in the first cabinet to run the nation. However, none of this happened and India was deprived of somethings he was definitely capable of.

Signing off with the below lines which I sincerely wish were true but are not. Sadly, hardly anybody remembers our martyrs.

शहीदों की मजारों पर लगेंगे हर बरस मेले
वतन पर मिटने वालों का येही बाकी निशाँ होगा

Of unsung heroes and glamorous underachievers

The Sunday Times of India, March 21 2010 was not a paper I was looking forward to. Mumbai Indians, ‘my’ team simply because it is led by Sachin, had lost meekly to Royal Challengers Bangalore, and that was a reason enough. However, as I read through mechanically to ease off a lazy Sunday morning at home, there was one piece that caught my eye between the loud and glitzy IPL coverage

Milkha Singh, the flying Sikh, has decided to hand over his life story for a movie being made. All for a sum of One rupee. Sheer greatness. Here is a man who in 1947 saw his parents murdered in front of his eyes, hid among corpses in a train to escape to India, ran barefoot in initial competitions, and went on to win Asian Games, Commonwealth and later on an Olympics record. Today also, he stands tall as he runs a distress helpline. 20% of film’s profits will go there.

What a pity, icons like him are hardly known of amidst the shrill and glitz of things like IPL which, at best, is a murky money minded madness with a little bit of sport thrown in.

Hats off to this proud son of the soil, quite literally.

Atithi tum kab jaaoge

Admittedly, I am no movie buff. Back in college, I used to be the last guy to be seen near a theater. Further recently, my movie sprees are limited to 'No other option available' scenarios. Similar was my today's encounter with this movie.

However, this is one impressive movie, though I guess is is not gonna be a respectable hit. With witty references to a common Indian's psyche, the movie goes on to touch pretty much all the unexplored areas that we either don't know about, or are not interested to touch. This includes the self induced aloofness of our lives from our famed family systems, utter disregard for little pleasures and pains of life that go on adding up, and in some cases, sheer indifference towards the values that we pick up and impart subconsciously.

At least in my case, this one managed to inspire some thought and introspection. Must watch if you are looking for light humor and substance packaged into one.

A different 'Jeetega Bhai Jeetega'

There is probably no Indian who doesn't relate to the three words in the subject line... Whenever Sachin takes guard, whenever Zaheer starts run-up, whenever Dhoni rallies his troops on ground, whenever the most prolific team India makes a circle after rounding another wicket, the chants rule the ground. But today, I insist on a different one... a 'Jeetega bhai Jeetega' for our national sport.

The Hockey world cup has been ridden with controversies, ironies, rumors and what not. Ironically, cricketers, shooters and actors had to be roped in for advertisements since, sadly, no hockey face is advertise-able. But all that is in the past now.

This is to a team that stood together against callous management, critical media, blatant officials and tentative sponsors, and finally stands tall, amidst chants of famous 'Jeetega Bhai Jeetega', trying to win hearts of Indians like ever before. To try and relive the lost glory of four decades of unquestioned world domination, unparalleled by any other sport (Including Cricket) played in this country of one billion. 

Sorry, I dont know my hockey. I dont know who is in playing eleven. I hardly know the captain's name. But nevertheless, I cheer for this Team India. For the records, we are 4-1 leading Pakistan as of now.

And the crowd is chanting.... 'Jeetega Bhai Jeetega!!'

Tribute to Team India

A living legend sends the opposition on a leather hunt, like he has done for 20 long years
A maverick continues to redefine the boundaries of scoring rate
A braveheart bowls his heart out before subsiding with an injury
A charismatic captain leads from the front to devastate a world class bowling attack
A team becomes the best team in the world… again

Cheers to Team India for regaining the No 1 Slot.

P.S. When I said last week that we will win the next one, few believed

Invictus... Beautiful Words

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Of Heroes and Senas...

So finally, the long drama surrounding the SRK and his famed release seems to be ending, with the sena clearly and emphatically being shown its place in the dustbin of Indian History. With effigies of Thakre scions being burnt, the common Indian has shown that the sounds of hollow rhetoric and unwarranted hate propaganda do not make sense to the major chunk. This is the third major reversal for the sena in recent days, the others being the utterly mistimed attack on Sachin Tendulkar - the God of Cricket and the forgettable duel with Rahul Gandhi - the emerging youth icon.

This leaves just one thing to be pondered over. Even though it is amply clear that the concept of 'Mumbaikars only in Mumbai' is totally impractical, unwanted and unworkable, why is it that it gets so much mileage? Has the Indian social fabric, with all its famed ethics and morality, become so feeble that it is unable to filter out the good from the bad?

I remember the blasts in Sankat Mochan, a major temple in Varanasi. After that, Vinay Katiyar gave a hateful speech directed (or misdirected) against muslims. However, the 'Mahant' of the temple got him out of the mandir campus, called upon the 'Imam' of nearby mosque and gave a message of togetherness. The degree of appreciation was immense, and disgraced face of Katiyar made it to the news nest day.

But are these pockets of sanity enough? How to tackle this social menace of regional politics? Is it a major flaw of our educational system which, by emphasising on local language, creates a cultural rift that widens with time? Today seems to be a day of questions. Maybe someday I will post an answer.

All time Favorites

Luck...

        He worked by day, and toiled by night...
        He gave up play, and some delight...
                Dry books he read, new things to learn...
                And forged ahead, success to earn...
        He plodded on with faith and pluck...
        And when he won, Men called it luck!!!

And miles to go...

        The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
        But I have promises to keep, 

        And miles to go before I sleep

Don't Quit 

        When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
        When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
                When the funds are low and the debts are high,
                And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
        When care is pressing you down a bit,
        Rest, if you must, but don't you quit 

Random thoughts of a fluttering mind

Don't have anything else to do, and hence this random blog...

Yesterday was the Birth Anniversary of one of the greatest sons of Indian soil. One who did for India what most others would have thought as impractical, maybe even insane. Yet, sadly, nobody remembers. Nobody that i talked to remembered, except one. And I am sure that most people will be google-ing to see who I am talking about after listening to what i said just now. To put in perspective, i guess more people remember SRK's birthday (Which, interestingly, I don't remember :D)

Seven suicide attempts by school kids in a day, can you believe it... In the city of dreams, probably the weight of expectations has started weighing a bit too much on young minds... and I can still only imagine the level of stress on kid's minds that would drive them to such extreme thoughts... Lack of maturity definitely, but it only goes on to highlight all that is not right with our social system in general and educational system in particular.

Pakistan Government feels 'cheated' by India (IPL, to be precise) and they ask for 'action from Indian Government'. Secondly, they want to 'Pay India back in the same coin'. For the first one, well, this is by far the most farcial comment I ever heard. They rule a land where murderers of innocent Indians move around like heroes, and 'Inaction from political establishment' is the blame on India. Major LOL. And as far as the second one is concerned... "Are aukaat dekh ke baat karo na yaar, pehle cricket khelna to chalu ho tumhare yahaan, baad mein Pakistan Premier League banao, Indians ko invite karo, Dhooni aur Sahin apply karenge, then u reject them.... How fantastic is that!!" is all I can say.

Dear Diary... or, Maybe Not...

Somebody asked me... Do you write a Diary? I had no idea whether writing a diary was cool, fashionable, 'chic' or the 'In Thing'. "Well", I said, "I blog", thinking of saving grace by presenting the most similar aspect of my virtually event-less life.

Reaction: Disapproving.

Frankly, i never thought of writing a diary. It seems to be so much of load to me. Why? Simply because, so long as I have sufficient Gigabytes or Terrabytes in my own memories to remember all the good things in my life, to keep track of all the dreams that I ever dreamed of, to remember to pass the smiles back to those who keep passing it to me, and to remind me of thoughts that keep me who I am, Why do I need a one?

Verdict: It turned out I was apparently a stupid idiot with no sense of emotional well being.
Reaction: A carefree grin/giggle/laugh from me
Counter reaction: Utter disgust

Reactions....

Love Pakistan? Not yet...

The Times of India has started a bold new campaign on the New Year... Love Pakistan. Some arguments and counterarguments are bound to come up there. At the outset, I concede that I am on the side of naysayers. I also dare say, this seems to be a gimmick but one with intent of doing something good.

It actually feels odd to see India, Pakistan and Love in the same sentence. And can anyone be blamed for this? It is not just what we have been fed over the past 60 years of ‘hate propaganda’. Any well meaning individual who feels for the common man and specially for the armed forces will have this odd feeling.

Also, when all previous attempts of extending hands has met only cynicism and counterproductive results like terror attacks, it makes common sense to be wary. The sadhu who keeps on tending the scorpion that bites back may not have to stop tending to the scorpion. But he definitely needs to take care of the sting before taking care of the wound of scorpion.

After all these years of gore and attacks in my country having been propagated by Pakistan, I can easily love the common people, cricketers, singers, etc on the other side of the border. But loving Pakistan... boss... I know better than that. I love the likes of Karkare, Saluskar, Kamte, Nachiketa, Unnikrishnan, Suri and common Indians too much to love the hand that killed them all.

कुमार बिस्वास... कशी यात्रा

कोई दीवाना कहता है..कोई पागल समजता है..
मगर धरती की बैचेनी..को बस बादल समजता है...
तू मुझसे दूर कैसी है मैं तुजसे दूर कैसा हु,
यह मेरा दिल समजता है न तेरा दिल समजता है...

महोबत एक ऐसे रोग की पावन सी कहानी है
कभी कबीरा दीवाना था कभी मीरा दीवानी है..
यहाँ सब लोग कहते है की मेरे आँखों में आंसू है..
जो तू समझे तो मोती है जो न समझे तो पानी है..

बहुत टूटा बहुत बिखरा थपेड़े सह नही पाया..
हवाओं के इशारो पर, मगर मैं बह नही पाया...
अधूरा अनसुना ही रह गया यह प्यार का किस्सा...
कभी तू सुन नही पार्यी कभी मैं कह नही पाया...

भ्रमर कोई कुमदनी पर मचल बैठा तो हंगामा
हमारे दिल में कोई ख्वाब पल बैठा तो हंगामा...
अभी तक लोग सुनते थे किस्सा महोबत का...
मैं किस्से को हकीकत में बादल बैठा तो हंगामा...

समुन्दर पीर का अन्दर है लेकिन रो नही सकता...
यह आंसू प्यार का मोती, इसे मैं खो नही सकता...
मेरी चाहत को तू दुल्हन बना लेना मगर सुनले..
जो मेरा हो नही पाया वोह तेरा हो नही सकता...

स्वयम से दूर हो तुम भी.... स्वयम से दूर है हम भी...
बड़े मशहूर हो तुम भी...बड़े मशहूर है हम भी..
बड़े मगरूर हो तुम भी... बड़े मगरूर हो तुम भी..
आतः बड़े मजबूर हो तुम भी.. बड़े मजबूर है हम भी...

'Never Forget 26/11'

It has been one long year since the brutal attack on the country's most talked about city. This post is an attempt to be a different take than the more commonly viewed angles that keep appearing on National Television. So this is not a commemoration of the attacks but an introspection of what we are as individuals, as a society and as Indians.

Notwithstanding what the attack and its aftereffects were made out to me, let us be brutally honest. The attacks were a 'huge success' from the viewpoint of the attackers. The sophisticated armed men roamed the city striking targets at will, even as media covered all the angles and a mockery of our social security system was made on all the available media.

Three of the best fighters in the establishment who dared to rush in when everyone was rushing out were allowed to lie there in their own blood for 40 bloody minutes before someone could tend to them.

It is said, 26/11 was India's 9/11 (In different date formats, though). While US had the balls to go for an all out war against the perpetrators, we have followed a passive, if not undetermined, approach. However, all said and done 8 years later, the superpower in question has neither been able to win, nor disengage from the war which has been dubbed as the biggest strategic error since the Vietnam War. Face it, Pakistan is no Lebanon or Palestine. How, in the wildest dreams, can someone in his senses suggest that India launch a war against an irresponsible nuclear armed state and assume that we shall live happily ever after? This when 40% of our fellow Indians live without electricity and farmers commit suicide on a weekly basis? Defies logic.

Ok, even if we declare war and annex Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad. Then what? As if the simmering north east, red belt, Maoists and Naxalites are not enough on the plate.

Coming back to 26/11. Are we not as clueless and as defenseless as we were one year ago? Shows of solidarity are totally relevant and recommended, but they are no good if not followed up by action by government, you and me. I am not competent to make recommendations to the north or south block, but can surely say that it is up to the 'intelligent middle class' to come out of their drawing rooms and start keeping things in line. We already have enough people who don't vote, don't pay taxes, don't follow social etiquette, bribe at the drop of the hat but are never short of advise.

Lastly, salute to the martyrs of the fateful day and all other less talked about events, bravehearts who defy all odds and fight for the nation, so that we can safely go to sleep each night. Let us never forget that there was a 26/11 that changed Mumbai forever. If we forget, we better rest assured there are going to be more.

What is this life, if full of care... We have no time to stand and stare

Have you ever watched kids On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down. Don't dance so fast.
Time is short. The music won't last.

Do you run through each day On the fly?
When you ask How are you? Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores Running through your head?

You'd better slow down Don't dance so fast.
Time is short. The music won't last.

Ever told your child, We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste, Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch, Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time To call and say,'Hi'

You'd better slow down. Don't dance so fast.
Time is short. The music won't last..

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift.... Thrown away.

Life is not a race. Do take it slower
Hear the music Before the song is over.

Breaking Free... from life

There is a major reason why I am choosing to update this virtually dormant blog on this day. Actually i reckon that if I don't do this today, I may not do this at all.

Well, for the immediate update, I am just back from a very relaxing two day trip to a lovely and secluded beach surprisingly near (4 hr drive) to Mumbai. I surprised myself by realizing that there are so many beauties has to offer that I grew up with, and then somehow got so entangled in this thing that they call fast track life, that I have forgotten when last I enjoyed these things.

Walking in the moonlight, feeling the grass wet with dew with bare feet, getting up to the sounds of koel and mynah in the morning, cool fresh breeze in face and hair, soft waves playing with feet ankle deep in clear sea water, admiring the shapes of tree leaves and patterns on tiny sea shells, listening to nothing but the music of wind through palm trees and the sea waves playfully striking each other on the coast... I could go on and on.

But the most important realization was the fact that there are so many deep rooted thoughts in our minds, buried deep down that clutter of day to day crap that we immerse ourselves in, which keep pleading to surface but are always pushed further down by the sheer weight of our own mind. Sometimes we find these thoughts too unimportant for our time to be spent on them. At other times, we are not ready and willing to confront them. But once the mind gets uncluttered and al this haze clears, we realise that these are the thoughts, feelings and opinions that are actually ours... ones that really matter... ones that ought to shape our lives. Unfortunately, they are reduced to background noise in our daily decision making.

Now, I am afraid that when I wake up tomorrow, I too shall be too caught up, busy, afraid and what not that I will again forget the lesson learnt. Hope things keep happening in my life that makes me unlearn all the dirt around help me follow what really matters.

Signing Off... Yours Truly.

Republic Day Parade

Watching the Republic Day parade on Rajpath is indeed an experience on its own. A showcase of country's military prowess, cultural diversity and development unparallelled in the whole world. France is the only other country that indulges in the self-appraisal and display of glory, that too on a lesser scale and grangeur.

However, what bothers me is the complete detachment of Indians to this exuberant ceremony. The stands seem deserted, commentary on door-darshan medicore and media coverage minimal.

How many people were present to witness Obama take oath? 25,00,000. Does it speak volumes about our 'Patriotism'?

Protagonist in Dasvidaniya

Who is the protagonist of Dasvidaniya? There don't seem to be many apparent answers to that. However, as the movie made me realize, The bespectacled guy hanging on to life, before and after the realization that he is about to die, represents each one of us to a great extent.

He goes to office, comes back, but forgets to live life in between. Keeps a track of things to do daily, but loses track of things more important to him in life than the geyser repair and LIC policy.

Suddenly, after the realization of the time left for him to live, he starts doing things. Things which are not our of ordinary or out of context. Simple things that he could have done anytime in his life but never cared to. Learns that most of the things in life are just there for taking, if you care to stop by and take notice. Strikingly close to the person we see in the mirror, isn't it?

Thanks to the movie for simple insights!!

How long are 24 Hrs?

Well, it seems another era has passed since I last blogged... so much so that I dont seem to remember what was the 'occasion',time of the day or even the topic of my last blog!!
This one is about a revelation. I remember commenting once after a visit to Bandra beach with a dear old friend when i was thinking aloud to myself how this sunset would have been so beautiful each day of the year, and how badly stuck are we in our lives that we do not find time for it even once a month.
Well, going a step ahead on that note... This comes up because I am at home now... after about a year, and maybe the only time in that period when my seemingly endless 'to do' list hasnt caught up with me. So practically after a year, I am having enough time in a day to sit back, watch life go by, laugh with family, go to small picnics, and the like. Any day of the week, this life is better that the one that we lead 'normally'.
And still I end up discussing with Mummy how bad an idea it is to visit me in Mumbai, since i ll be all 'tied up' and 'busy'. Irony? comedy? tragedy? or some other equally brutal adjective? Two lives that we all lead, one leads to the other, each one equally important and valuable in its own right.
Perhaps the only saving grace in my case... I love them both!! Just hope to maintain the required balance at all times.

Another walk through the past

Thanks to the ever helpful 'Microsoft Excel', I now know that it has been 254 days since I last blogged... and phew!!! Have things changed since!!!

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This time last week, I was returning back from one of the most memorable trips I ever made. A two day respite from the currents of life meant that we were free just enough to steal a small rendezvous with a world away from ours.

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Sky that was bathed in all colours of the rainbow in different times of the day, ranging from red as the sun peeked over the glorious western ghats to violet as the day receeded to dusk, making way for moon to play its way through the night clouds, casting a spell on anybody willing to get lost in the simplest yet most entrhalling of beauties that nature has to offer.

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Sand in the feet, breeze in the eyes... the vast stretches of beach near our abode... the looming treehouses... all making sure that we forget, at least for the moment, the tangled and noise-ridden lives that we lead and pretend to enjoy... sometimes fooling others and at other times, ourselves. Pondering over life from a third angle actually gives you a deeper understanding of what we have gained and what we have lost... as people, friends, persons and professional. A pity though, that all these insights that we gain on 'get-aways' like these get washed out like dry leaves as soon as the rush from our 'normal' lives gushes in our timetables like winds and rivers.

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Above all, what made things different for me, were the memories of my previous visit to the place with the guys that I am never gonna forget in my life. Back then, we had little money in pockets, but loads of moments to convert into memories. I re-dined in a restaurant. The food was same as before. So was the service. But something was not as pleasant as the last time. Maybe it is the tendency of human mind... to cherish the past rather than revel in the present. Maybe I was just wasting my time being nostalgic rather than enjoying the day. But all said and done... wish 'You' were there

Flashes in the again, but.....

... all dedicated to the best President India has ever had.

Waiting for the next President

For the records, Pratibha Patil is the person who shall take over the dignified auspices of the premises that have been home to some of the greatest visionaries India has produced. But somehow, it seems that something somewhere is missing. The pieces of the jigsaw are all there, but still, the picture is not complete.

Maybe I am waiting for a president whose addresses to the nation would consist of roadmaps to the future. One who had not only a vision of India's future, but also ideas about how to go about it. One whose life had been dedicated to the purpose of making India a developed, confident and dignified nations. One who was above all politics and dramatics that our 'men in white' indulge in. One who was as proud an Indian as can be. And above all, one who made the Rashtrapati Bhawan a 'People's Palace'.

Maybe, somewhere in the lobbies of Rashtrapati Bhawan, as the outgoing First Indian citizen packs his baggage and leaves, a nostalgic voice will call and say, 'We will miss you, Kalam Sir'.

India will miss you, Kalam Sir.

The drama and irony of the democracy

All the way, since I was a child and started learning about country and government from the NCERT Civics books in school, I had developed a deep sense of security in the system that we are so proud of... democracy. And today, I wonder...

Is the number of Indians that want Kalam out of office less than those who want a change? If yes, I sit down and shut up. But if not, then i question the very basics of the system of presidential election. Are the voices of Indians so badly lost out to political rhetorics and communal dramatics that we are nobody but numbers in the game called politics? Our votes do count. But then, is that the end of it? Our voices don't count?

Questions are many. any answers?