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Actions taken - the nations owes an apology

Hi,

It's my first mail to the first citizen of India. And i have just one agenda that you will join the campaign of seeking an unconditional apology from Kerala's CM V.S. Achutanand.

Rahul

ID: presidentofindia@rb.nic.in
Please send your version of such mails to the president, prime minister, CPM party chief and other leaders and people in general.

This is a test of our democracy.

It's not a post...it's a campaign

I want unconditional apology from Kerala's Chief Minster V.S Achuthanandan.
And immediate removal of this a****** from power.
If you agree with me then find ways to disseminate the message far and wide till we get rid of this man, if you still think he is one.
Here is his sinful comment: “"If it had not been (Major) Sandeep's house, not even a dog would have glanced that way," said Achuthanandan, a day after being chased away by the father of the officer.

इंतज़ार का सूरज
चमकता रहा
बिन एक बदल के
और सपने जैसे चाँद
उधार की रौशनी से सराबोर
एक ग्रहण भी न लगा
काले बदल भी गए भूल
भेजना बूँदें
की जिसमे भीग
होती कुछ तपिश कम...

"Main Jeetay Hoon." I am Jeetay

Sharing the cab with five women was quite an experience of my life. Mr. Murthy about whom i have already discussed used to sit with the driver whose name was Bunty. And I used to brave the phenomenal majority of fair sex. One fine day Bunty ditched us all and vanished.

Then came Jeetay and the fact he hated was that all the women without fail while talking about him said Bunty is...g===,b==,u====...poor Jeetay kept on asking me this question who is better Bunty or him??? The ladies without understanding his problem kept on saying, “Bunty thoda dheere chalao”..Bunty go slow.

He became enemy of someone he never met. And all those ladies never understood his problem. Their casual attitude toward his name was the cause of his agony. He always wanted to say, "Main Jeetay Hoon." I am Jeetay.

It’s natural

He says,"it is natural."

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Who is he?

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In fact it's natural.

He just found this (naturally) torn banner in Noida.

He’s not a Gay right’s champion like Priyanka Chopra. He’s not even a straight right’s champion…lols…just a good observer.

I like those women, who...

Mr. Murthy is a genuinely nice person. One in a millions, abides by the book for everything, follows the rules, well-read, well-fed, a quality man...so what's the big deal? I used to share a cab with him. Mr. Murthy used to shower his bounty of knowledge on me. He speaks little and very sensible.

I am starting this cab tales series where i will share some of my experiences in the cab. One day our cab system came to a sudden halt because of Delhi and Noida police. The person who was running the cab service got fed up of police harrasment. Mr. Murthy came to our rescue with his old car. He was so modest, just mark these words uttered to otherwise foot soldiers :), "Your are most welcome to join me but i have an old carrrrrr."

The car was a luxury to say the least when you compare it with DTC buses. Another member of our car pool was Rita, a perfectionist. When at home doing all the household chores and when at work doing rest of the house hold chores...ha ha ha. No an excellent worker at workplace also. Very quick witted and intelligent…She also joined Mr. Murthy's car after the cab went for a toss.

Mr Murthy after getting a male majority in the vehicle became slightly more vocal. Other wise in our cab five women outnumbered two men in every respect ;). He had all the information about financial sector, latest branding trends and other current affairs. I could understand the level of boredom Rita faced after having the overwhelming majority she was a minority. But she maintained a dignified silence with sprinkle of words here and there.

Once in a very good humour (and the only time he became illogical - why only women), Mr Murthy said, "I like those women who speak less." And he didn't stop at that, "Ladies should avoid speaking more than required." And Rita already chat starved was witnessing Mr Murthy saying this and expecting a yeeeeeees. Isn't it naive or of Mr Murthy? i thought it is.

But the deadliest blow was he said, "You know Mada'm, what i like about you is that you speak very little." Rita was silenced and pushed to such a high pedestal that now whenever she meets her other cab mates she tends to speak less because...I LIKE THE WOMEN WHO...ha ha ha

The most populated Date

It's been a very hectic month so far, cardiologist, clinic, ticketing…all crazy stuff happening around. Some heart breaks, burns and attacks...still life is moving on with a steady pace. Firmly following its course making mockery of our plans...i have seen quite a lot of that in blogosphere also.

Na na no...i am not going to share any thing gloomy. My friend came from Lucknow to visit a famous cardiologist in his last attempt to avoid his dad’s bypass surgery. His would be in-laws were also visiting Delhi with his would be wife. And i thought i must earn some punya (reward of good work) by making the couple meet. And let me tell you, it's quiet a task. They both were at my place and wanted to go somewhere alone...and the very word going alone raised some eye brows. Finally we clinched a deal that five people will go on this hilarious date.

I was supposed to go with one more friend to drop the couple at a nearby mall. Her dad pushed my friend’s brother-in-law in the party. This world's most populated date started at the entrance of the mall. I asked myself how to counter this bhai-behen prem (brother-sister love). (Ref: The song "Chand sitaron ka sabka kehna hai....). I wanted the couple to sing: "jab pyaar kiya to darna kya...(why to fear when in love)" But the girl was not ready for the ride. So at the entrance, i started talking to her brother with the other friend covering his view. And the couple disappeared in a hurry.

I started asking him all those questions without any interest in answers. Some questions you may need them sometime in life

Who is better Shahrukh or Salman?
When do you go to office?
What do you do there?
How is boss like?
Who do you like more Katrina or Kareena?
Do you smoke?
Do you have a girl friend?
Are there more arrest happening in Delhi blast?
Do you love your job?
Is your girl friend beautiful?
Are you planning to marry her?
Does she like your job?
What's your salary?
What do you think about new nuclear deal?
What do you feel about India’s medals in Olympics?
Many more…

Huhh!!! ha ha ha…

While i was barraging him with questions my friend was getting some private moments with his would be wife amidst the crowd unknown. By the time his brother-in-law could understand how irrelevant my questions were he had already answered my dozens of questions. All three of us were donating blood to a long queue of mosquitoes…as all is fair in date and friendship.

Instead of saying, he had to keep an eye on his sister, he said, "we are getting late – aren't we?" I said, “yeahhhhhhhhhhh” and started telling him tales of my friends eloping successfully. Because he told me in one of his answers that he has a girl friend. He listened to all those stories with open mouth – i could manage to squeeze out another half an hour. Then finally his dad's words became better of him and he said firmly, “now we should go back.” And that is how this most populated date ended.

कोशिशे मायूस हो...

कोशिशे मायूस हो...
बैठ गई है किनारे पर
और तुम्हें पता है?
भटक भी भटक गई आज
तलाश की तलाश में गए थे
कल और परसों मेरे
अंदर का सन्नाटा तुम्हारे सामने है
ये जो नई सिलवटें है
क्या ये पुराने दर्द की करवटें है
उदास रेखाओं के बीच फसे हजारों सवाल है
कोशिशे मायूस हो...
बैठ गई है किनारे पर
पतझड़ की शाख सा तुम्हारा चेहरा ऐसा
की ग़म का एक तिनका भी ना टिका
कुछ इतना गहरा हो चला है सन्नाटा
की अब शोर भी आवाज है चाहता
अजीब असमंजस है
बेरूह है बेजान नहीं
लकीरें गहरी है पर निशाँ नहीं...

उस रोज मैं बहुत दूर निकल आया
पर ये क्या मेरा हाथ थामें ये कौन
ये तुम्हारी याद साथ ही
चली, उठी, बैठी और रही,
फुर्सत के हर लम्हे दिखी
और बाकि दिन भर छिपी,
भागना चाहा मैंने इससे,
पर ये तुमसे जुदा थी
तुम तो जैसे रेत पड़ी एक लकीर थी,
उस रोज लहर के साथ हो ली,
और तुम्हारी याद,
ये तो पत्थर से लिपटी लकीर की तरह,
लहर दर लहर...रही अनमिट, अकाट.

Moralist moron

Directly coming from the heartland of the country i would not name the caste, creed region or color otherwise you will mark him as Bihari, UP wallah, Tamil, Telugu, Marathi...He came to make his career in the field of journalism. And in the third week of his journalism he was full of himself now i have got something worth hitting headlines no less. He went rushing to his editor Eureka..he said never use this term again. I am already fed up of this term. Everyone now and then, i get calls for vacuum cleaners or water purifiers. So i wouldn't publish your report even if you have credible news about World war 3.
The person is now all the more jittery, he is blaming his overexciting. And with first strange shrug now his jaw is amply dropped that it's almost on his knees. Then his editor said, "in spite of your grave mistake, i am magnanimous enough to have a look at your story." Oh! you small town Moralist (=Moron) don't even know that prostitution happens out of choice also...go and explore the world but don't get surprised like this.

PS: http://in.news.yahoo.com/137/20080920/736/tnl-new-breed-of-elite-prostitutes-cater.html

Aadmin hoon Aadmi se oops logon se pyaar karta hoon

I remember i was discussing my credulity with a beautiful girl that how easily i trust people. I cited two lines of a famous Hindi song Aadmi hoon aadmi se pyaar karta hoon (I am a human being and love fellow human beings). And she immediately broke into laughter saying ab pata chala (now i know) why are you single? I was immediately classified as a case of gender bender.

In India, you quite often come across people in full blown mascara and foundation talking about their son and wife. In one such instance, i congratulated one of my acquaintances when her ooops his wife delivered a baby boy. I said, "family ka pehla mard mubarak ho (congrats for first male member of family)." It's bad - isn't it. It's a kind of stereotype our society is victim of.

I subjected my friend with mockery because he could not lead the life he wanted to। I became subject of mockery because people still find it difficult to swallow that being a gay is not fashionable or a choice. It's natural.

PS: http://in.news.yahoo.com/32/20080928/1074/tod-happy-not-gay.html

BUM…py Ride

Women think that males are behind their curves, brain doesn't matter. They are so very right in thinking this way. But one thing they don't understand that males look at every female species; it's not just those tailor-made / customized beauties fitting into your cornea with ease. They give due respect to everyone. These curves always cause problems – a German robber's curves landed her into jail. Her enormous bums left such an indelible mark on 61 year old uncle's mind – or shall i say occupied all the memory space :) at uncle’s disposal – that he instantly recognized her Jab they met the second time. And she landed in a jail :(.

PS: http://in.news.yahoo.com/139/20080924/959/tod-big-bums-and-felony-don-t-mix.html

Uncle aapka packet gir gaya

Uncle! Your packet has fallen. These were the last word uttered by the boy in whose hand that crude bomb exploded today in Delhi.

Dear Brother,
I don't know who are you, what religion you belong to, what are your demands, what grudge / appreciation you hold against us?
I am sure you must be happy now blowing nine year old boy to pieces. He was trying to return your packet; so unmindful of him that's why your packet blew his head off. His poor parents imbibed right kind of values in him. That came quite handy today.
Tell me if i am incorrect.
I am very happy for you. Today you successfully fed the monster of death and ogre. This vicious cycle of death and pogrom needs people like you. May god bless you.
And i also wish you never weep on your child's body like the residents of Mehrauli. I wish your life doesn't come to a sudden halt because of something untoward.
If you still need some more lives then come to me i will offer myself so that you can lead a peaceful life like others. Because you are spending all the time thinking about killing us and we are spending all the time fearing about getting killed.
I have two more people to offer, my parents rather our parents (you are my brother - aren’t you?). My mum can't sit on floor and do few activities because of her spine surgery last year but how does it matter to you? She will add to your list.
My dad recently had tooth extraction any ways toothless he will also add to your list. If you want, very soon he will get his artificial dentures back, in case you can wait. And this is not just a family of three, borrow my eyes your list will get inundated, it's my entire world.
Please let me know, i want to see you victorious.
Take care, eat good food today, have good night sleep, if you can really.
Your brother,
Rahul

Dedicate to all those people who are free

Beautiful song enjoy

जवाब

एक अरसे से मैं छुप रहा था

आज जवाब ने मुझे खोज ही लिया

जिसका तस्सवुर भी था मुश्किल

आज जवाब बन सामने है खड़ा

मेरी जुबान की उँगलियाँ रही है काँप

पकड़ पड़ रही है ढीली

ये शब्द बिछड़ना है ही कुछ ऐसा

जो जवाब बन सामने है खड़ा

एक अरसे से मैं छुप रहा था...

Deli-belly

Here are some official versions of feedback about my performance in the first job:

• Frequent deli-belly
• Apart from adjusting with food in Delhi he is OK.
• He should be more cautious about his dietary habits.
• He sometimes shines but during critical periods his physical conditions mars his performance.

The constant rigmarole in my tummy was because of the safest nature of this problem. You can have it any time and yet you don't have to give a proof. It could ignite any time and give you enough personal space in and out of the office. Go and sit in the loo for an hour, far from your boss's eyes. Your colleagues will ensure that you get half day, if it's a small organization with four people and just one loo. :)

Spending few extra minutes there will win you half day. It used to win me. My bag used to be full kit for all kind of exigencies. Money used to be a consideraton, so i couldn’t afford full day leave.

This is one problem where boss doesn't ask for proofs. So half day's salary used to fetch me bus fare too and from the interview venue and tasty road side chole kulche also - food of all the unemployed and semi-unemployed people (i used to put myself under this category during those days)

So all the calls for better jobs created that rigmarole in my boss's mind (deli-belly). As soon as i knew i had an interview lined up. I would go to office in proper trouser and shoes but shirt would be shabby because i had to fell ill also. I would go start working there and then would take the refuge of loo and will remain there for some time and listening at least five people coming upstairs in desperation to see if the loo had been vacated.

They will fight the case for me in front of Mr. Gondal (my boss). Girls will say, "let him go he is such a nuisance today." You can overhear such comments and it gives you a kick - mission accomplished. But now i think they were right and i was a big nuisance indeed. Because the entire nation (i m talking about public places) has been turned into a big public toilet: courtesy Bhartiya purush (Indian males). They love their walls with streaks and they can't stand to site where a wall is clean.

But sometimes your requirements leave some in desperation and some in tizzy.

Agley Janam...

This week presented one after the other shock. Harshita's blog (A tale of three marriages) set the tone and a Noida hospital case pinned me down; i am reeling under a bout of depression. I planned to take leave from office to go and sit in solitude. This is probably the last posting of this month.

(It's a real story with just pinch of fiction because protagonist is an infant; so the words are fictitious. The setting is Noida and the incident was covered extensively by media. A couple claimed that they had a male child which was exchanged with a female child by the hospital. The protagonist is the unwanted female child. She is lying in hospital’s cradle and contemplating and explaining her maladies.)

I am one of those unfortunate children who take birth months after the death of their parents. You must be wondering how it is possible that my mother died months before my birth. Yes she did…in the same female body on which i survived for nine months. So i passed months before birth in my mom's grave. And today only, i managed to leave that grimy and dingy graveyard.

Alas! The place i landed is even grimier and dingier. What i am seeing here is that i am not at all wanted. And minutes after my birth another birth took place with a little biological difference. And this male child is an instant hit, a hot property sought after by two families. Two set of parents are jostling to get their names entered on his birth certificate…what a place to see your name. (Think about Draupdi and Dhritrashtra of Mahabharata who had this pleasure hundred times and they died alone.)

I am a kind of abuse both of them don't want to have. Don't forget - one pair is my Mom's and Dad's grave. I am lying on a cradle and waiting for a worse tomorrow. Because my parents passed away way back and if modern science matches my genetic signatures with the graveyard i left few hours ago. My life will become hell.

I have started my life from the abyss. I hope everything could only become better provided i am not back closer to the graveyards i left this morning. I am wondering if i survived all this tumult and ever become a mother what would i do. At least i would not let a girl visit this place called India. Mothers are abusing their motherhood...by killing new born daughters...by determining sex of their children. Are they child making factories and am i a product? If yes then what’s so bad about me that no body wants me.

The man who is responsible for my birth is so fond of women and getting rid daughters. He doesn’t even thinks what his son would do if every one started thinking like him. Or may be he is planning a forced gay in his son.

At the moment i am getting full media coverage because no body wants me. Am i not very young to think all this? But when you are an uninvited guest to a party and nobody attends you; this kind of feelings are inevitable? Normal human beings try to find an exit; i too am looking for an exit to never return.

Don't sympathize with me...i have not come here on my own. I am a by product of a couple's aspirations and fun...who disowned their own act. If you can’t do something forget about me.

I request to GOD Agley Janam mohe bitiya na kije; Kije jo bitiya to India se bacha lije (in the next incarnation don't make me a daughter if you do please save me from India).

समझ हर पहलू की दर्द ही देती है शायद
ईसने तो दीवारें ही बनायी
मेरी समझ का रोज एक दीवार बनाना
और तुम्हारी का उसे तोड़ने से मना करना
नुक़सान तो हमारा ही हुआ
हमारे बीच सिर्फ़ दीवारे बनी टूटी नहीं
आज सोच कर परेशां हूँ
बचपन की उस सुबह
जब तुम्हारे हाथ को पकड़
नीम के साये तले
क्यों कहाँ था मैंने?
भगवान् हमें बड़ा कर दो
उसने तो बड़ा बना दिया बड़प्पन छीन कर
समझ दे दी मासूमियत छीन कर
और अब हम दीवारें बना रहे है
बचपन में होता तो शायद यही पूछता
तुम ठीक तो हो उस पार???
अब तो डर लगता है मांगते ये भी
की छीन लो ये समझ
न जाने क्या हो अंजाम?

The Wall

I am gonna talk about a wall no not Rahul Dravid...Chinese wall. But some other wall. This wall is at the centre of the storm in the Middle East. The wall that separates Israel from Phalestine.

Ye kissa nazariye ka hai (this story is all about perception). People say that it's the final nail in the coffin of Phalestine aspirations. Some say it's the safety measure Israel was forced to take. I would say this is the only thing common between these two people.

But i am surprised to see how much blood they have shed for such a small piece of land. Arre bhai samay rahte india aa jate to teeno ko (muslims, christians, jews) alag-alag jameen de dete saare khush...(if they had come to India within the time, we would have given separate places to each of them, all happy).

Now jokes, apart they are really crazy lot - this land has produced three of the greatest religions the mankind has ever seen. All of them are baying for the blood of one another. Ab bhagwan ko area dekh kar messangeer bhejne chahiye the...par unki bhoogol thi kamjor kar di gadbad (God must have sent his messengers after carefully examining the area...but she / he "trying to be politically correctly" was week at geography and messed it all). Phir phir soch samajh kar hasna (again think before smiling). Moses, Christ, Mohammad must be thinking mere daddy bhi bas (our dad is too much).

Jews were the oldest that's why they have longest list of grievances. Christians are well off because the Vatican happens to be in Italy and Waise bhi christ bechare khudi sara dard samet chale (any how Christ himself bore all the burns). Muslims have the Mecca but they have Al-aqsa also, which is in Jewish control and that makes them the latest aggrieving party. Main to kehta hoon bahut ho gayi ladai ab kar lo sulah safai (In my view, a lot of fighting has taken place, now it's time for ceasefire).

I was thinking about telling something about the architecture of the wall and ended up telling history. khair bhagawan mujhe chod de (Any way, Oh! god spare me). The blood is used for water, bones for bricks and flesh for mortar - i recommend the architect to use sanity for water, forgiveness for bricks and forgetfulness for mortar to rebuild this wall.

So that i can go there again with my partner, without any Jew or may be Muslim or may be Christian; I'm sorry human driver offering beauties for some $s; of course in front of her at least.

As I am afraid next time i might change as well just like the wall.

Shalom - Tel Aviv

It's has been a whirl wind tour and a very learning experience. I don't know why everything looks so artificial, even the peace and rule of law. I landed on such an important city's airport (Ben Gurion, Tel Aviv), it's beautiful and huge but deserted. Immediately, i was approached by a beautiful girl (security officer) asking some questions and then letting me go...her last words were enjoy your stay in Tel Aviv.

I was recieved by a driver from the embassy and he dropped me to the hotel - Hilton Tel Aviv. The city everybody says here is very busy but i didn't find it busy. Anyways they say so many things, and everything is relative. For some it's full and for some it's half empty...

Enough of philosophy...the jew driver who took me to the pilgrim tour of the old city Jerusalem offered me a beauty on bed for 300$. Alas! he didn't find me macho enough to say yes. His son came to drop me from his home. And on the way he offered me the same product for 100$...to his dismay i still found it costly...(i am talking about character...ha ha ha) Bhagwan ke liye mujhe...nahi sorry Devi ke liye...again sorry...don't read it if you have already read...then don't understand...if you have already understood...then don't laugh...if you have already laughed...then you're the sinner and bhagwan tumhe naa chode.

Sorry! phir (again) distraction, Tel Aviv is is city not heavily populated but people are beautiful (physically). They have managed to build a nation of fit individuals. By and large people here are fit. The thing we should try and emulate...again philosophy...par bahut chaloo hai (they are very clever) I wonder how any one can manage to make such a small peice of land so prosperous when you have fought so many wars and odds are always against you.

But the moment, you interact with them you will know they can do anything. When they have managed to turn everything to their advantage they want peace - isn't it clever. Everybody talks here about peace. But one thing i wonder why such introvert people (jews) were targetted in the history by one or the group...i will try to probe...if you know the answer then post it...why to make me work...

chalo chodo tumhe nahin pata to pareshan kyon hote ho (Don't worry if you don't know the answer)...bench par nahin khada kareige (i won't be asking you to stand on bench) bhagwaan tumhare paap dekh raha hai (God, Allah...is seeing your sins)...Will update more about Tel Aviv in the next post

धुंए में गर्क सुबह शाम
तुम्हारी याद अधूरी फरियाद
जिस्म से रूह का सफर तो था मुश्किल
हर कश में थी मेरी कशमकश
हर जाम एक कदम मुफ्लिशी की तरफ़
ज़माने से मुझे नज़रे-इनायत भी नहीं मिलती
कमबख्त मेरी गुरबत भी तो दिल की है
मैं मुझ्मे और मैं मुझ्मे नहीं
मैखाने में रोज मैं एक नया मैं बनता
पर वो जो धुंए में दिख रहा अक्स
क्यों कहता है रोज...की पैमाने छलक न जायें कहीं

पता नहीं ठीक से
की आदत रात की ख़राब है या मेरी
रोज आती भी है और परेशां भी करती है
और किसने कहाँ की गर्मियों के दिन लंबे होते है

यहां तो सिर्फ़ रातें ही लम्बी है मौसम कोई भी हो
हर लम्हें उकेरती है हजारों ख्वाहिशें
ख्वाहिशें जो अधूरि है
पता नहीं ठीक से

की आदत रात की ख़राब है या मेरी
जो पूरी हो गई वो एक भी बात
नहीं आती है याद रात

Window of understanding

Today I had a plan to visit my friend to explore Window Vista Microsoft’s new kid on the block. As I was going towards his place, I bumped into a dead body lying on a bus stand. I called up my friend for advice whether I should call police or ambulance. He said, “I am coming.” The friend is a qualified lawyer practicing in the apex court of the land.

I was supposed to explain him Window, but I lost my window of understanding on the way itself. The things I couldn’t understand let me list:

A qualified lawyer was scared of calling police no (100) from his own cellular phone.

And two lawyers dissuaded me from using my phone. Why they were so scared themselves when their job is to bring respite to common man if threatened by the police?

How can a man starve to death in a city (Delhi – NCR) where even street dogs are overweight? The dead body was all bones no flesh. It was apparent that the person was hungry and sick for quite some time.

How at all the police solve any case in India with its stringent area rules defined by Criminal procedure code? In the first place the famous 100 no call about the semi dead man, actually dead, to the wrong sector police station and after looking at the spot the first thing it said was, “this is not our area.”

When police arrived a man most probably a software engineer came to me and said he had seen the body three hours before I saw and informed traffic police also but to no avail. In these times why at all any one expects help from strangers?

Is starvation death not news for media? Because the journos my friend tried to contact with the news that the person died probably of hunger was not interested without any blood or wounds.
This moron is again confused can anyone help

It's just so unimaginable some years ago...today i m reading news of passing away of field marshall Samuel Manekshaw flanked by one pakistan and two bangladesh nationals. The surgeon breath his last whose child is the worst victim of climate change.
The Political climate of the subcontinent has also changed so much...i had a blast of time last evening all sponsored by our colonial cousins.
People around the globe are not good or bad, it's just fear that becomes better of them. Fear of hunger, poverty, unemployment, lonliness, death and many others put pressure on poeple to which they succumb. I met this amzingingly diverse bunch of prosperous people from poor countries and they were well-behaved kind generous just like any other westerner who weeps at the conditon of third world countries.
My trainees are beutiful group of people doing great things...they are flying to their homes tonight...after the most amazing remarks about the training session they seem to be distant relatives who came visited and went back it hurts when you create a bond with people and leave them...but i m relieved also...huh!!!

मालूम है कब से है ये लकीर तुम्हारे चेहरे पर
धूप ने जब से छाओं का साथ देना शुरू किया
रात का झगडा था दिन से पुराना
पर धूप का हाथ छाओं के हाथ में
उस दिन से पहले नहीं देखा था मैंने
धूप बेचारी बेखबर है
रौशनी और अंधेरों के सिलसिले से...

Harbhajan: The Hero

Preity is pretty happy now a days but anxious also. She's invited Harbhajan to dressing room of Mohali. It's just one slap that turned Sreesanth from an aggressor to a performer. She wants ten more such hits. But Harbhajan has turned down this lucrative offer, citing the reason that he can't slap without uttering a particular abuse (m@@@@y).

This has not stopped here; many national cricket boards are in touch with Harbhajan to buy some slaps, if available. The BCCI is blaming media for creating all the hype about the acute shortage of slaps. Sharad Pawar has said, "All these allegations are baseless." Harbhajan's arm is fine and he is busy in devoting more time to slapping practice.

In the meantime ICC has intervened and said, "The BCCI cannot unilaterally decide हरभजन's slap schedule." The slap tour can be scheduled only after ICC's nod. The Indian media is seeing the turn of events as big racial tug-of-war between the ICC and BCCI.

Harbhajan Singh has so far shown calm and composure in handling the situation. He said, "it's a big responsibility and I looking forward to make the best out of it." Slapping such a diverse group of people in such a short span of time is quite a challenging job and i hope to live up to my fans' expectations.

Alas!!! Everything written above is false.

कोने ने से मुड़ती रौशनी हम तक भी पहुँची
तुम्हारे ना चाहने से उसका मिजाज़ न बदला
कम से कम तुम्हारा जोर रौशनी पर नहीं
कभी तो लगता है शायद है
क्योंकि वह रौशनी ही तो जिससे मैं
डरा, सहमा और चौक गया
खुदा के लिए गर तुम हो तो
बंद करदो यह रौशनी
बिन आँखों के थोडी मुश्किल होगी...

Flying to Lucknow

Why do literary artists abuse the places where I spent my childhood? Don’t they have something better to tell? Going down memory lane…it happens so often i get amazed to read literary artist marking those small alleys as dingy and filthy. I ask one question to myself: did I spend my childhood amidst filth? Probably yes – probably not. I used to play and chat there they were not filthy - were they? I had the luxury of time – which I have lost in this swank city. I owe almost all the employability to those, not so dingy, lanes; in fact not at all dingy.

Somewhere I read Arundhati Roy writing, stories cull authors to be told. I don’t know whether it goes with abuses too.

ख्वाब, चाँद, नींद और इंतज़ार
किताब, कलम, स्याही और कहानी
एहसास, कल्पना, खोज और जस्बात
दर्पण, रूप, श्रिंगार और तुम
यादें, खलिश, तन्हाई और मैं

कल रात गुजरते हुए उन रास्तों से
यूं लगा जैसे राहें कुछ सुस्त हो चली है
जब हम थे रहगुजर पे तो एक भागमभाग थी
जमीन जैसे कुछ पोली सी और फिसलन खूब थी

मुझमे मेरा कुछ नहीं

From where to start is not an easy find! A lean, for sure not mean, man leaves his place and staple comforts for a place called Delhi - the Destination Delight. For some (the smallest domain) he was innocent, for some lacked practicality for some he was foolish (the biggest segment).
Over optimistic about life and its fruits for him in store, he was behaving like a toddler who stands for the first time and refuses to sit the entire day.
The morning used to begin for him at six. Out of the room in next thirty minutes…sometimes with breakfast and quite often without.
But his optimism was not ill placed. The almond uncle came for rescue in the first week itself. A man from the hills of Himachal finds shade of his nephew in him. And his days started to begin with almonds.

कल कि कल्पना में गुमराह हो गया आज का दिन

Isn't it a great line? Written by a very good freind.
A life threatening accident in London has taught me this lesson: don’t spoil today
क्योंकि कल हो न हो
(there may not be a tomorrow)

ConfuSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSion...Galore

Mark my words - it's disgusting to be confused. But some duffers, i don’t want to say like me, can’t help it. Wayward is the only way, so far known to me. Every step meets a crossroad - a labyrinth. It’s confusing by the tiniest measure of time. People around are so sure...don't know how??? When i was a kid, i thought may be, i would be sure, once i would grow up. But confusion has grown with me. The more anxious, i am to be sure. The more ignorant and confused, i become. Probably fault is in the script; i am made of - genes.

गर जानता यूँ दोगी जवाब
तो पूछता सवाल... बहुत पहले
तुम्हारी हर पंक्ति
जैसे विन्यास...अमर तत्व की
तुमने भर कर रख दिया
किस लापरवाही से उस जवाब को
कि वो छ्लका
थोड़ा मेरे सवाल पर
थोड़ा मुझ पर

मोड़ पर छूट गई सुबह

मोड़ पर छूट गई सुबह

हाथों पर से फिसलते हुए हाथ

उँगलियों के सिरे जो आखिरी सम्पर्क थे

एक चीख से टूटी नींद

कुछ जल्दी आ गई बस उस रोज

निशान जो वहाँ थे साथ के

मिट गए क्या?

सुबह को वहाँ देखा क्या?

मोड़ पर छूट गई सुबह

अब सब है पर सुबह नहीं

वह रोशन सूरज जो करता था सुबह

वह नहीं है

आईने में उसे देखा क्या?

कलरव जो उठाता था मुझे

उसे सुना क्या?

मोड़ पर छूट गई सुबह...

धूप ने निचोड़ दिया एक और दिन

धूप ने निचोड़ दिया एक और दिन
की टपक रही आखिरी बूंदे
जिंदगी कुछ भाप बनकर उडी
और कुछ बूँद बन के टपकी
नमी का असर जो बाकि बच गया
वही है सरमाया मेरी कहानी का
धूप ने निचोड़ दिया एक और दिन...

तुम्हारे शब्द

तुम्हारे शब्द

अतीत की घास पर पड़ी हुई

ओस की बूंदों की तरह थे

जो यादों की किरणों के

पारस स्पर्श से स्वर्ण बन गए

रहने दो उन्हें अनछुए...तुम्हारे शब्द

तन्हाई की एक चीख

तन्हाई की एक चीख
पी रही है कतरा-कतरा
आत्मा के रस को

अंदर का खोखलापन बढ रहा है
दिन उबासीयों की और रात उदासियों की नज़र हुए
बाकि बस है तो वही
तन्हाई की एक चीख…

पटल पर उभरते चित्र धुंधले से
कुहासा यह चुगली करता
कि व्हो तो बिम्ब है अतीत का
बाकि बस है तो वही
तन्हाई की एक चीख…

कल रात कुछ अजीब थी

कल रात कुछ अजीब थी,
रेंग रही थी उंगिल्याँ उलझनों में
और दर्द की एक शिकन थी तुम्हारे चेहरे पर
एक अजनबी सी टीस मुझ में भी
यह रात और इसकी हर बात अजीब थी
उलझन से लगन थी
कयोंकी सुलझने में दर्द था
पता नहीं क्यों यूं लगता है
दर्द से भरी सुल्झन से तो
भली वो उलझन ही थी...

आवाज जो बीच थी अपने
साथ हो ली खामोशी कि ऊँगली थाम उस शाम
सहमी सी कोने में सिमटी सी
हमसफ़र थी भी और नहीं भी
मैंने सुनी आवाज उस खामोशी की
जो साथ भी और नहीं भी
सफर की अपनी कहानी है
आवाज खामोशी से साथ है लौटने को...

Taxi Wallah’s in London

London’s taxi is a sight to behold…spacious, comfortable and beautiful; but awfully costly. An automobile (accident of course) forced me to use this beauty. But taxi drivers can be so funny I never knew. I, with a ruptured duodenum, was struggling my way to hotel, hospital, hotel then again to hospital…and taxi drivers were becoming funnier by the minute.

After the doctor at St. Thomas’ said don’t squeak too much, it’s just a spasm nothing wrong with your tummy. I came out of the hospital slightly surprised but not pleasantly that nothing was wrong. I hired a taxi for St. Ermins Hotel, Caxton street. The taxi driver in his 50s was a quiet man. Through out the way, I was digging a gaping divide between the driver and myself by conversing in Hindi with my colleague.

The colleague who was dragging me to different places was visibly cursing me. He was trying to avoid me or pretending that it’s just an ill fate that he accompanied me. I had all my sympathies going for him. And it was actually very funny that reluctant helper was putting forth all kind of fake generosity. The taxi-wallah tried to drop us on the main road which was good 50 meters away from the hotel entrance. And with an undetected and unidentified ruptured duodenum, I was sure about being assertive. I said, “Please drop me inside as I am in pain.” The response was, “don’t say…I’m in pain, say I’m lazy.”

Then I had cheap thrill out his reluctance I said “you got it very right please drop me inside.” And he was left with no other option but to drop me where I wanted him to. After waiting for a full night in my hotel room, I was trying to get into a hospital. Again that reluctant attendant was there to help me reach an NHS centre. I asked him to bring the wheel chair as I couldn’t walk. He came with a blank expression in the room and said I had enquired the hotel had no wheel chair. I rebuffed, “No…I enquired they have one.”

Tragedy was becoming funny with me. I got a wheel chair but the lift was not big enough to accommodate the wheel chair available with the hotel. My colleague was finding it difficult to hide is happiness. I was disgusted beyond explanation. I walked into the lift and then towards the main entrance of the hotel. Some body from hotel got me a taxi. The taxi driver was a gentle looking white lady hell bent towards cleanliness. I can say this because what followed when she saw me.

The driver refused to get me into the taxi. As I had my hand on my tummy she was alarmed. She said he will puke in my taxi. I said, “No…I won’t.” She said, No you will.” I said, “I would put hand on mouth but please take me.” It’s a strange argument – isn’t it? But she bought the argument. I kept the promise I had made. One hand on belly and the other on mouth; I entered the taxi and headed towards the NHS.

Let me put in black and white: the lady driver was just hygiene conscious…neither rude nor racist. When we reached the NHS centre, my colleague was busy pulling out bugs from his pocket and the driver was pulling me out of the cab. Both were extremely concerned, one was waiting that if could manage to go inside on my own and the other was busy ensuring that I wouldn’t puke in her cab.

Can anyone survive so many blunders in one evening?

My unruly tummy turned me into a squeaky good for nothing liability, I had rammed myself against the steering wheel while go karting. One of my colleagues was dragging himself to the hospital. Never ever so much of realization fell on me in a go that I was working in a wrong industry: communication (non personal persuasive communication – advertising and PR). I couldn’t convince a single person that I had done a great damage to myself. The only solace now is one thought: Had I faced so many failures in a normal day of my work life, I won’t have seen the next day. Good excuse. Isn’t it?

Only after six hours of futile attempts, I could reach St. Thomas’ Hospital in the UK. I took a taxi driven by an unconvinced driver that I was making efforts to remain together and intact. I am sure even the nurse who measured my BP wasn’t convinced; another Failure. And the people waiting with me in the A&E, St. Thomas’ Hospital were intermittently looking at me through the corners of their eyes. Their unimpressed or rather unconvinced eyes were going hoarse in saying: these immigrants are always a nuisance; an uncultured and ill-mannered lot. I was howling without giving a thought to the scorn on their faces.

The staff nurse asked me to wait. She could read blood pressure and temperature whereas I could feel the tumult inside. When I realized that the wait is inevitable; out of sheer frustration, I started an onslaught of meaningless questions mixed with shrill groan. Irritating people has always been one of my hobbies. So I was also enjoying all the twitches erupting because of my bawl.

Then after enjoying those twitches for two long hours, I heard my name Rahoooool Bajaaapi (Rahul Bajpai). Without loosing a moment; I was standing and walking without squeak – this was a strange wheel always squeaked when not in motion. My colleague and the staff nurse escorted me to a room. A medical student was gearing up to know what made me see the hospital. But natural inquisitiveness and circumstantial curiosity forced me into asking more questions about her than she asked about me.

The third-year medical student was very tentative and cautious while answering questions related to my medical condition. She gasped for air while answering my questions; I never told her that I began my career as a journalist. So I can ask nth number of meaningless, stupid, open-ended questions. Though I told her that I am an ‘Indian - a good enough synonym for garrulous’. Confusion was smeared all over her face. She must be thinking whether I was really in pain or passing time in the hospital. Then I was taken to a huge man.

This huge man was a doctor whom I wanted to meet every minute in those six hours. He hurled questions towards the taciturn student and garrulous patient. The doctor was grilling his student with some technical questions. And then he started his routine checkup. He got my urine tested. He reached an unbelievable decision: it’s just a spasm nothing serious. I listened this sentence in the form of suggestion, advice, analysis report and finally from a doctor. When I showed concern about my excruciating pain, his exact words were: if you hit steering wheel at that speed and you don’t have that’s abnormal nothing abnormal if you have pain. The only person who got convinced during that evening was a lorry driver from Nigeria who took me to a shop helped me buy some painkillers. Other wise everyone thought it’s just a spasm.

A threatening car by Tata - American & Indian values on display

American journalists reported recently an Indian car posed threat to America - read America as globe. This car will cause global warming and submerge everything. And there is a dreamer behind this conspiracy.

Ratan Tata, as he says, dreamt of giving Indian common man an affordable car. He recently realized the dream. As the car was within the reach of many Indians. It sent chill down the spine of many people - Competitors, Environmentalists, and the funniest of them all are American scribes. A journo, from the land of free enterprise, writing against a big breakthrough in the automobile industry is funny. I have all the sympathies going for Americans. This is the worst crises America is facing since 9/11.

Yep! TATA has no right to behave so recklessly. Producing such a cheap car!!! How dare he!!! Either the world is with America or against. And now our very own Ratan is against them. I wonder how he is feeling after standing in the league of Osamas.

Never mind Dear representatives of Uncle Sam, we have some Sunitas for your help. Sunita Narain is the Director of Center for Science and Environment, India. She is talking about higher taxation and end of subsidies for motor vehicle users, so that the people who dream of owning a car pay a fitting price. But as always she and other elite get these valid arguments late in the day. Now common man is finding it difficult to swallow her bitter pill.

Isn't Nano better and safer than auto rickshaws existing on Delhi's roads? In terms of fuel efficiency, is it not better than many big luxury cars used by the likes of Sunita - I mean to say elite? It's baffling, are these people just hypocrites or against common man? The state has already given so much to the rich in terms of subsidies (road usage, parking, etc.) if I go by Sunita’s argument. And now something is going the poor's way and they are concerned about pollution and clogged roads? Aren't those roads already clogged?

Tax bigger cars heavily and I guarantee these people will book Nanos for themselves; this is how the elite in India, rather every where, behaves. Long live hypocrisy!!!