An old friend

‘They are fighting again’ my mother parked herself on the chair and started increasing the sound of television. ‘A person can’t even watch tv in peace’ she had said to no one in particular. I ran outside to the increasing voice of people all shouting at the same time. There were cuss words which I did not understand at that time. I could see too many people around. Few near them and rest all placing themselves at their convenience. It was like a television show which my Mother was trying to watch; only this one was live.

They lived across my house. A two floor blue colored old building. A divided family of two brothers. I have never seen it but they say there is a straight wall across the whole house separating them. I wondered why they keep fighting when they don’t have to deal with each other anymore. How naïve it was of me. I parked myself on the small boundary wall of my house and watched him. He was there, sitting on the stairs while his family screamed at each other. And then something different happened. His father ran towards his mother and all went silent apart from cuss words and ‘it’s all because of you’. There was no sound of kicks and punches, but only slaps, how wrong they show it in the movies I thought.

His mother cried and was trying unsuccessfully to protect herself from the blows, her nose was already bleeding I think it was broke but I was not sure. While pulling her hair and taking her out on the road, his father tripped on a brick and fell. She grabbed this chance and picked the little girl, Shekhar’s step sister and ran. Passing all the onlookers, in few seconds she vanished. This was the last time I ever saw her. She never came back, if she did, I was not aware of it.

It all went calm. My mother reduced the volume of the tv. All the viewers were gone. The show was over. I came back into the house and looked out from the window, he was still sitting there. And then he glanced at me, straight into my eyes. I can never forget those eyes, shining in the dim street light. He was not crying, in fact he was smiling, or may be its just me creeping out I thought. I shut the window and watched my mother to feel safe. What I did not notice was the drop of sweat crossing behind my ears. I was scared to hell.

From that day I tried not to look at him. I felt he has always been watching me. Whenever I crossed his house or sat near the window or played in the balcony he was always there, sitting on the same place, fanning away flies from his father’s wounds. I don’t know what was wrong with his father. My mother said he was suffering from severe illness. She said it was God’s punishment for killing his first wife, shekhar’s mother. For a long time I thought it was true but later I came to know that she was not well for long and lack of proper treatment killed her and it was not a sudden death, she was bed ridden for almost an year before she died. Everyone blamed his father. Real murderer was poverty or may be his father was the murderer since he did not do anything to save her or get her treated. I had seen him sometime selling baked groundnuts but that was only once or twice.

One day I returned from the school and he was not there. Though from the corner of my eyes I used to see him staring at me but today I turned my head to search for him. He was nowhere to be found. I sat near the window for almost a week but he was never there. His father was still there I could see him lying there on a charpoy wailing, moaning of pain, cursing his fate and what not. His brother from the divided house sometime left a plate of rice and water for him to eat. He ate like an animal. I covered my mouth every time I see him eating. And one day he also vanished like his son. My mother said he was dead but I saw no one. I never thought death would be so silent. None talked about him or his son or his wife or the little girl. Whole family was disappeared as if it never existed.

After few years I completed my twelfth and was sent to Mumbai for further studies. My father said, ‘don’t get lost in the city, for holidays come home to visit’. I complied. Twice a year end of every semester I came home. Best thing about a small town is that nothing really ever changes. Hair grows grey, belly gets fatter and that is that, houses are same as they were ten years ago, roads in same pathetic conditions, electricity always forcing you to sleep sweaty and struggling with rise of temperature, I could see the pile of garbage at the same place accumulating, which I used to see ten years back. Nothing changes in a small town, not even habits. I sat near the window and looked at the empty stairs of Shekhar’s house.  It was no more his house. His uncle has broken the wall and it was one house now. Sometimes a dead family can be a reward for someone.

It was the vacation after fifth semester. I was at home watching tv when there was a knock on the door. Windblown hair, thin athletic physic, shiny brown eyes, extensively shaved cheeks and dusky skin color I knew who he was. He had grown in a fine young lad and I could compare him with many of my friends in collage. He wore a plane blue shirt with black trousers as if a sales representative of a motor company. He smelled of some aftershave which I could not recognize.

‘Shekhar?’ came out of my mouth and a twinkle from his eyes. He smiled, ear to ear, a full smile of a genuine happiness.

‘I thought I would have to introduce myself’ he said.

He handed me a fancy envelop and waited. It was a marriage invitation card. ‘Anu’ I read. His name was nowhere to be found. I looked at his eyes, they were still smiling. ‘My sister is getting married’. His step-sister he meant. The little girl of his step mother. I tried to hide my surprise. I wanted to know the story but there was no courage to ask. He might ask, ‘why bother now?’

‘I am not inviting anyone else but you.’ He waited while I tried to grasp his words. He must have understood my confusion and went on explaining.

‘You gave me what I needed the most. I could never have survived if it was not you. Every time I saw you and the life you were living, your family, your school uniform, your cricket bat, cycle you rode, all made me live the same life, I could see myself playing and going to school. I remember once you shut your window, it broke my heart, not because I could not see you watching tv but because I could not see myself watching tv. You know what? You gave me motive; you gave me motive not to die like my father but to live.’ 

I stood there looking, at him and further beyond, inside deep in his soul he was not that small boy anymore. He was far greater than any of us. My father used to say, one cannot be great by just living a normal life. The more you struggle the more you are moving towards greatness. You worry about all those small hurdles and get depressed. What you do not see is the life beyond you. Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. It’s full of mysteries and miseries. One does not become great by flunking and running. One has to face it and answer the questions.

Here I was seeing a young man who was of my age, answering the questions with confidence. He was in a position to choose the audience of his victory. The card I was holding my hand was nothing but the mark sheet, the result of his success. I was proud that I was the one he chose.

‘I would really appreciate if you can make it to the marriage’

‘I sure will’ I had said, what I wanted to say was that I would not miss it for half of my life. I wanted to know rest of his story. I wanted to know how he answered the toughest questions life has thrown on him. I wanted to see that little girl, who kept crying while her mother carried her away. I wanted to know how the boy, who was indifferent of the events at that time towards his step-sister, was now inviting me for her marriage.  I wanted to know it all.

By the time I came out of my thoughts he was already gone. I saw him walking away. He did not go back to his house. He did not even throw a glance towards it, which was once his own house. He had outgrown it. I had read it somewhere, person who believes in himself, never looks back at what is lost. He looks towards what is coming to him. Life is all in present and what you make out of it in future. Past is for hiding. Courage never hides, it faces from the front.

I looked back at the street; he was nowhere to be found. I realized that I did not even ask him for a glass of water. ‘Who was it?’ my mother asked peeking out of the kitchen.

‘An old friend’ I said.

Doorbell !!

Almost two years in a developed country can make you a different person. Lazier and used to of comfort and a luxurious lifestyle. each and any kind of task is just a phone call or a ride away. twenty four by seven electricity, water, heater, air conditioners, internet and what not. no government officer asks for bribe, no corruption, every one follows rules and regulations. Of course i am talking about general population as every society always have some or the other kind of criminal minds and rule breakers. here they are countable, unlike what we see in India. here countable population are of those who follow the rules.

And when i decided to return back to home country it was a shock for all who came to know. why a person in sane mind would decide to leave a comfortable life and move back to the chaos. valid question indeed for which i have had no answers. My friends in India were equally surprised, all they wanted to move out of the country and here there was me, who was willingly returning back. 

I had long discussions with my colleagues, specially my manager, and heard all those problems one has to face while working in India, as if i have never been there. starting from well increased house rent and deposits, weather conditions, horrible traffic and narrow roads, people everywhere, pollution, air filled with carbon and dusts, corruption, money needed even if a traffic police just calls you irrespective of your documents and all and much more of these with your salary which will now be in INR. all of which i was already aware of, still i was adamant to travel back, they were disappointed, for them it was an irresponsible, childish, emotional, foolish decision to make. I was not sure may be they are right. 

Sunday i was sitting again in beer market. we were almost regular here from last few days, to be precise, regular since the day my friends and cricket team mates came to know about me traveling back to India. 

'No change in the plan?' Kaustubh asked me, keeping his tall sam adams glass aside. he is senior most in our group and also captain of the team, which is named 'redhawks'. we were already out of the tournament so there will be no harm me leaving it. there would have been an issue if we had qualified to next round as we do not have any other wicket-keeper in our team. 

'not so far' i replied. 

'i dont think there will be any change, as your return date is already set.' he said, i smiled and took a sip out of my dosxx.

'okay then, all the best and be careful while buying a doorbell for your house in India' 

We all turned to him. 'Doorbell' he had said. what role possibly can a doorbell perform in your life and how was it related to my travel? we all were curious and he knew it. but instead replying to us he was busy sipping his beer creating more suspense. once environment was set and all eyes were on him, he put the glass aside.

'You see i was newly wedded and we rented a new house in Pune. initial setup of apartment was a disaster. every other day my wife will say, i need an extra plate, one more pan for tea, two more glasses for guests, and many such small stuffs which she wanted as and when she needed. one of them was to put a doorbell. we went buying it and after listening to almost thirteen sounds, we zeroed on one of the fanciest cuckoo sound doorbell, which rang for no more than two minutes. it was nice and we both liked it. shopkeeper offered to fix it in our apartment for free. so far all good. next morning, 6 AM, milkman rang it as an indicator that milk packets were kept on the door, 2 minutes bloody cuckoo screamed in morning 6 AM. Newspaper-man rang it. my wife orders flower garland, he rang the bell. we all love to sleep in morning and for none of the rings you really have to open the door as they all are just indicators' but still every time my pet cuckoo kept shouting and shouting and shouting. so now you already know which doorbell to buy. ting-tong'

We all laughed. he really had suffered. and none of us thought of this really minor but important part of daily life in India. Now as i was all set to travel back. one thing i was sure about and that was the doorbell.                

Our wrong understanding of rituals.

Next day of my marriage was surprisingly calm. the hectic and over the top marriages tend to drain you like a last drop of lemon. after a week of extremely stressing environment, suddenly all seemed peaceful. a bright sunny day in month of February is always a bliss in Northern part of India.

It was all true till i climbed down the stairs. There was no sign that marriage functions were over. all seemed busy. but busy doing what? i held my cousin. 'whats going on?' 'they are all coming to see the bride, what you call it? yeah right 'mu dikhayi'

The hell, one more unwanted event. haven't they all seen her on the reception stage or in the marriage? but that's how it was. i was relaxed as none of them wanted to see the groom, so i was off the hook. but i thought of her, poor girl, its like a never ending nightmare, suddenly leave home, leave parents, come to a completely stranger family, where you have no idea of what to do and what not and on top of it face all these unknown faces of gossip makers, commenting and judging her, a nightmare it is.

'How long this will go?' and answer was 'till the time people keep coming' Gosh. i wanted to peek in the hall room where all this drama was happening. And i did. Believe me it made me furious. there were four ladies, i didn't know single of them, and buaji, elder sister of my father, who was acting in charge of this drama, all sitting on sofa and there was she, not looking up at all, sitting on ground, on an old mat.

I was dumbstruck. This is how we were treating her? at least five more person could sit on those sofas, but she was made to sit on ground, in front of those bunch of neighbors, whom i don't even know of.

'what the hell is going on?' i almost shouted in front of my Mom, who was busy preparing snacks for those godlike aunties enjoying there divinity. she was the one who has said that we will treat her like our own daughter. she had no idea what i was talking about. 'why is she sitting on ground?' 'why are we behaving like a illiterate, uneducated culture less morons?' she understood now, and yes it was a big deal.

She went to the hall room running and came back. 'I cant say anything to your buaji' she said worried 'and also this is how it has been, bride has to sit on the ground. If i say anything it will be like insulting her, she is eldest.' she kept explaining me that she is helpless. but then she said something different altogether. 'i want you to go there and make her sit on sofa'

Now it was my turn to rush. i walked out there, pulled a single sofa near her. she was still not looking up. 'come sit here' i said. all eyes were on me. she looked up to me, i don't know if it was expression of doing something wrong or doing something right, but it was flavored with elements of surprise. but she didnt get up. she knew it was against our so called culture. but i was adamant. 'you don't have to sit on ground, now please come and sit here'

I walked out of the room leaving a pin drop silence and gazing eyes of my buaji. and also her, who was still watching me with her teary eyes. My Mom was waiting just near the door. 'yes, she is sitting on sofa now' and she smiled.

This is just an incident. In our culture there are lot many rules and rituals which symbolically deteriorate a person from being equal. we don't even notice them and follow with our eyes closed. Even girls who are going through all this, accept it saying 'this is how it is'. we talk about being well cultured, we boast how rich we as an Indian are in our values. but we all are blind and suffering from wrong understanding of rituals. Just because elders are saying, that doesn't make it right. One has to use their own conscious to make right or wrong out of it.

A small act towards equality is just a first step towards the fight against discrimination.

Birdhouse !!

It was long pending. Now as the marriage date was around the corner, we thought Renovation of complete house might take longer and also shall affect the budget. So we decided just to go with the hall room. Being an old house walls were in quite bad shape. some self proclaimed expert relatives and friends of my father suggested to drop the idea of putty and go for complete tiling of the walls.

It was not a bad idea. Sighting the ever lasting problem of paint dropping off the walls due to moisture, we thought that will be end of it forever. After some online research i found that it was trending as well.

After few days, when all was done and i looked at the hall, it was changed completely. It was looking good but i felt there was something which we had missed. i couldn't find what it was.

While having lunch, a took few grains of rice and tossed it towards the window. and then it struck to me. For few days i was not seeing it. It was gone. The bird, which was always there to share my lunch, which used to live in the small hole in the top corner of the wall, which was also an opening for the electric wire connected outside. We had closed it. Our construction had destroyed it's home.

I couldnt eat anymore. It was no big deal if you think in a way. But somehow i felt terrible. I told my father that we need to open it back. I dont know if it was the same bird, but i have seen a bird always there.  have seen it falling down after hitting the fan and flying back, i have seen small babies of it jumping down on the ground and shouting whole afternoon till their mom came and struggled to put them back.

I was so used to of it that i tossed the rice even after not seeing it since the construction started. I hated myself for ignoring such an important part of my day. I realize it now and i wanted to make it right.

'It must have made a new home somewhere else. its been days we have closed it' was the response of my father. I always knew he was way to practical for such things. i looked to my mom and she just gave a sympathetic smile. It didnt feel any less guilty.

Whole day in back of my mind i thought it was my fault to make someone homeless. My parents dont expect a grown son of them to behave like a child. I didnt. I never asked to open the space again.

Next day I bought a wooden bird house. My mom was little surprised to see this. They never thought that i was so attached to it. Even i didnt know till i lost it. This is how it works. You dont know what small things unconsciously become integral part of your life, till you lose the very same thing.

I fixed the birdhouse in the top corner of the wall. It made me feel good. Next day while having lunch I tossed few grains of rice and waited.

It did not come back. I still throw few grains everyday in hope of it to come back. It never came. It is gone for long now, if not forever.

I still sometimes throw a glance towards the empty hanging birdhouse.

wonder what was the story behind !!

it was an usual morning. over crowded airoli-borivali bus number 123. smell of ocean's rotten water mixed with smell of sweat of people occupying the minimum space required for their shapes. bus conductor very comfortably making space for himself in between nearly impossible gaps. all these were so incredible yet so ordinary in a person's life who is a regular commuter of BEST buses in the city of Mumbai. 

headphones stuck almost touching my eardrums, D K Bose song playing in loop to the maximum capacity in cellphone, i was on my way to the office. every now and then throwing a glance on my cheapest fast-track watch, not to see the time but to think of a new excuse to give on the question 'why are you late today? again!' i myself was pissed on the same old truth of traffic conditions, day by day worsening to the limits.

lady beside me stood up and three of them standing on the aisle blocked the way not to stop her but to occupy the seat. somehow she walked out and disappeared in the crowd, i was forced to slide towards the window so that people struggling to find the seat could sit, at least one of them.
seat was not empty, there was a book. title 'what the hell'. i myself was a reader but never had heard of this book, well no one could possibly know all the books, specially if they are published to compete with the growth of mushrooms. i picked it up and unplugged my earphones to concentrate more on the book.
first page:

it was handwritten. 'To the only person who is the inspiration behind this book, its not a book, its our story'
quite clear the book was a gift from the author himself. There was a line, again hand written in a different handwriting.

'leaving this in a crowded bus, no one will ever know that the book was written on me, for me. I am sorry'
i realized that the lady was in fact not reading but writing on the first page of the book. bus was already moving, she was already gone. last stop which crossed was kandivali. i was still there, holding the book in my hand, wondering what might be the story behind it...!!   

Union Budget 2014...a dream come true !!

Staying away from home in an eleven hours lagging behind time zone is like your ass is on fire for last several hours and only after eleventh hour you start feeling the heat. you are left with no choice but to see how much damage happened already.

Same feeling this morning. while i was in sound sleep, our beloved finance minister aka defense minister aka second most popular leader of Bhartiya Janta Party (at that time Mr. Amit Shah did not cross my mind) who somehow, like a miracle, had managed to lose election at a time when whole country was painted in whatever color Gujrat is painted, has already finished with his National Democratic Alliance's second manifesto aka union budget of India.

Curious as hell, i opened three tabs of 'The Hindu' 'Facebook' and 'Twitter', there was nothing on Facebook, shocking, but that also means budget has not offered anything which will add a feather in the cap of the image of Mr. Narendra Modi ji. It was beyond imagination that something good was offered or i should say promised and it was not hyped on Facebook from his innumerable supporters.

'The Hindu' article on budget was all which i needed to know. Income Tax exemption limit was raised by 50,000 to 2.5 Lakh, a sigh of relief, though he himself had promised for 5 Lakh made me sick of the double standard. 'Twitter' where the hashtag of '#budget2014' was trending, was full of jokes and concerns. they said their was nothing offered to lower middle class and below. while going through the highlights i fell the same, cheated.

The schemes offered were all good, No Budget ever offers a bad scheme. you can go through all the budget speeches since our independence, apart from few here and there wrong decisions, all of them offered good schemes. Close eye gives a clearer picture. all these offers are based on contracts and rest on committees ~ 5 IITs, 5 IIMs, 4 AIMS like institutes, Kisan TV, Internet connections in villages, Ganga cleanup, Sardar Patel statue (BTW it will be named as 'Statue of Unity), metros, increasing women safety, 100 smart cities, all brilliant plans and promises, i felt exactly the same when i read the election manifesto (doesn't matter of which political party more or less all were same).

Truly speaking i was disappointed, not because i was expecting some miracle, that expectation died soon after NDA's election campaign was started, any sensible person would have known that all that was promised were just a Vote pulling strategy, an product launching ceremony, moreover they were impractical by any standard. So miracle was not at all expected.

Expectation was to start from the basic, a party with clear majority in loksabha can do wonders in terms of decision making. But then all money, like always, was just handed over to a particular department. Inflation in retail was not even considered. nobody talked about improving standards government schools and hospitals, no one talked about sky raising fee of private nurseries and private schools, they dont talk about reducing prices of normal house holds, transport. basic requirement for all those new schemes of Kisan TV, internet, is electricity, Villages do not have electricity but they have a channel to watch now, what a joke. was any amount provided to encourage small business? to create new jobs? to reduce unemployment? to tackle corruption?  

One thing is for sure, they dont put money where they cant get a benefit, each and every scheme offered, can be exploited, and is a money making factory. what we need is proper implementation and sensible use of hard earned money of tax payers.

By the way, if you smoke, you have been burnt. And for me, well for me its a dream come true, i am going to buy new shoes.... !!!

To sleep or not to...

Machinery requirement is achieved only when it is drained to the maximum power. same applies to our body. after a long day of running, running towards the sky in carrier, running to the treasure for family and running to the rainbow for love, running running and after more running, or body needs a break, heat generated by this friction, needs to be cooled off. machinery needs to be shut down, so that again when its switched on, it can work to its fullest capacity.

Sleep is what we call it. brain is half dead and only fatal part of it is active, the part which does not require any command, heart still beats, lungs still function and blood still runs, but all to their minimum level of power. so every morning the whole body feels like full of voltage, ready to run to its full power. 

Last few days, every morning i felt my body was not completely charged. i calculated the time and it came on an average around 7 hours and 35 minutes of sleep. it was within the essential requirement a body needs. 7 to 8 hours is what is called to be a perfect shutdown time. But then why i was feeling like i need some more? i realized that even after taking sleep of more than 9 hours, i was not feeling fresh, eyes struggle to open and body behaves like a zombie. whole day for even walking straight i was putting extra efforts. every now and then while working, eyes started to shut down in face of the monitor. every day i was making extra efforts to get more and more sleep, sometimes more than 10 hours, but nothing changed.

But this morning when i woke up, it felt different, better than last few days. day went fine without any hint of sleep deprivation. when i calculated the time i slept last night, i was really shocked. Only 4 hours of sleep. i realized that i was talking on phone for almost two hours yesterday night and went to bed only around 2:45. my alarm, without fail rings at 7, so it was just 4 hours of sleep and i was feeling alright, in fact better than the days when i slept for more than 8 hours. what was happening? i had no answer. 

I realized my sleep requirement has been decreased. what does that mean? does my machinery needs less rest in order to be perfectly functional or is it some kind of sleep disorder which needs to be fixed before machine is over heated. 

whatever it is, one thing is for sure, now i know what the problem is and a step ahead, i know what is the solution for this weird problem. i will keep a tap on the sleep as it needs some more research before reaching any solid conclusion, so only dilemma remains, to sleep or not to....

Artificial world we live !!

Look at the projection all around, you would know that its a 'show world'. from a small child to an adult, we all are busy making ourselves presentable, making others believe how good we are, how good we look, how good we are doing, how good our life is, all presentations. We all have created a parallel world for ourselves and in that world everything seems to be so good, of course this world does not totally overlap with the real world, so every now and then we realize that our life just sucks.

For instance, look at the world's largest community, Facebook or Twitter for that matter
, How beautiful the world seems, everyone over there happy, enjoying their lives to the fullest, everyday i open it and my timeline shows, couples romancing, families holidaying, people getting new jobs, they are getting engaged, watching movies, eating in restaurants, cooking for their wives or husbands, hundreds and hundreds of birthday wishes, millions of comments and billions of likes, marriage pictures, newborn babies, and even honeymoon pictures, i mean literally you can find them kissing, hugging and romancing. then there are mother's day, father's day wishes, they forget to wish their mom, but never to the other citizens of this artificial country. what a beautiful world it is.

Effect: Drastic, first thought, apart from me, everyone is happy. now everyone wants to do the same to be happy, its a fashion trend. if you dont do the same, your are ancient. unfortunately in reality, you have a job, a boss, who gives you orders, you dont have leaves, your have bills to pay, there are EMIs, home loans, rent, daily traffic, no pay hike, increased prices everywhere, in all real life sucks, but its only yours, others are happy, wont beleive me? go and checkout Facebook..

Other and bigger artificial world is Television. I mean seriously, major part of the television is fake. First of all there is nothing called as 'reality show' and News channels are no different, but still we tend to believe it like its happening in our own life. serials and soaps are like killing our family mindsets. one person marrying thrice or more, every family has someone whose whole and sole purpose is to harm others, young people are in this world only to fell in love and then its cool to fight the world for their true and eternal love. Parents have only one task to oppose, well at least one of them if not both.

Effect: Joint families are old fashioned, fathers of daughters, search only for those guys who live away from family, or is single son. making girlfriend/boyfriend is must, always ready to fight opposing parents, tragedy is new cool you see. most importantly in a joint families people are loosing trust on each other. Its all expectations which are soaring high, and when they do not fill, which mostly don't, one feels like he has compromised in life and living a burden.

Then there comes a major stakeholder, commercials. think exactly what you see in any commercial? word is perfection, which does not exist in real. perfect girls everywhere, perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect figure, perfect voice, perfect dress, perfect makeup, everything about the girls in a commercial is perfect. Male gender, stud, height-weight equation in equilibrium, not a single hint of fat, dream boy of every women. why? only because product must be sold.

Effect: we all want to be the same. girls want to look the same, boys want to be the same, and believe me nobody is able to achieve it, not even the people who are already their in those advertisements. the people whom we see in those ads are result of heavy makeup, high lenses cameras and most importantly, editing, mixing and photoshop. everything is made perfectly according to the script, yes its a script not the real world.

Problem is all these things have become an integral part of our life, so much that our happiness, sadness, jealousy, love, likes, care and all other emotions have become slave of these artificial world. this is making us more unhappy, looking normal is no reason to be sad, but we become sad, because we fail to look good. we become sad that others are holidaying and we are not, others traveling to different countries, we are not. others are falling in love, we are not. others eating in particular restaurant, people are watching movies, buying cars, buying houses, apartments, dogs, cats, buffaloes and what not. I am bald, i am not fair, i am not having a good looking wife, my husband is fat, all these criteria, what do you think has come from?

Only answer i can think of is the artificial world we live in !!  

‘Food security Bill’ or ‘Vote security Bill’

Recently this Bill passed in Monsoon session has created a lot of fuss in and out of the parliament. Media has named it Vote Security Bill and the opposition has not really opposed it as they are not the one who is going to risk their own quota of the votes. Ultimately it’s all a part of politics, call it dirty or healthy our leaders or should call them politicians, have sweared on politicizing everything, literally.

Half of the people who are opposing or who are supporting it do not even know what exactly this Bill is about. Their behavior is like a sheep in herd and they just follow the herd. So what is this Bill?

“As per the provisions of the bill, beneficiaries would get rice at 3 rs/kg, wheat at 2 rs/kg, and coarse grains at 1 rs/kg. These rates would be valid for three years. Every pregnant woman and lactating mother would get free meal during pregnancy till six months after child birth. They will also get a maternity benefit of 6,000 rs in installments. Children up to 14 years would get free meals. In case of non-supply of food grains, states will have to pay food security allowance to beneficiaries.”

Now who are these beneficiaries no one knows yet. I heard that Government is starting a survey to identify them. Here one noticeable thing is there are already schemes which are providing really cheap food grains to people who are below Poverty line. There are already mid-day meals for children country wide. And already free check-ups and medicines for pregnant women. So what extra benefit this Bill is going to provide? Now they say, number of beneficiaries will be much higher. Bravo…

‘There is no free lunch’ was a saying till now and I am sure our government is hell bent on proving it wrong. You want to see where is the free lunch? Please come and visit India. India, at one point of time one of the fastest growing economy has imposed a great amount of risk on its already sinking economy, by providing free lunch. Why? What a stupid word is this ‘why?’, of course to lure the people who really vote.

Now question arises how it will be done? I am not really a economist but I know how a simple give and take works. But first we have to identify who is the giver and who is the taker. Giver is for sure the Government treasury, which we all know is filled by the tax payer’s money, I will come to it. Takers are the poor of this country, which happens to be 32.7% of the population i.e. approximately 400 millions of people, but in this case as the beneficiary limit is greater than that as per the Bill, which consists of farmers, daily wage earners and also people who does nothing.

Now the government will buy food grains from farmers, with higher payment (prices are shooting already) and then they will give back the same grains to them with negligible prices, also to them who do nothing or work on daily basis. Think of the effect, why do you think the daily earners will work anymore? They already got what they work for. Why do you think a person who does nothing, will do anything if he gets already what he would earn. Living in this country and doing nothing has become a bliss for them, now they just need to Vote and keep doing nothing.

Who is at loss? Government? Government is just a body who manages the country (ideally) by regulating money, collecting taxes and using that money in infrastructure, defense and welfare of the citizen. So the Money which government has is from salaried employees, businessmen, companies, organizations who are paying taxes. In short its people’s money which Government is using to pay and buy food for poor.

So what’s the outcome? Indirectly half of the working people are spending their hard earn money to feed the other half. On the same lines I read somewhere -

“Just think what will happen when the one half gets the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them and when the other half gets an idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for. Well, it is when it is beginning of the end of an economy.”

 Only motive behind this Bill, according to Government, is to remove poverty which we don’t see is working and looking at the amount of corruption it is less likely that even half of the people who belong to this beneficiary list will even know about it and like other welfare schemes this will also end up filling political pockets. 

 Well, statement still has question marks ‘Food security Bill’ or ‘Vote security Bill’???

Ganpati Bappa Morya !!

Living in Mumbai there are something’s one has to learn. One of them is celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi. I am not saying that we have to learn to celebrate or learn to enjoy the festival which was once a symbol of unity. We have to learn how to tolerate the abuse in the name of almighty lord. The festival which was started in a small temple in Pune by respected Bal Gangadhar Tilak to unite all Indians against colonial rule of England now has turned his face. Good turns to Evil at some point of time and this is turning to be an example of it, good turning evil.

One would be thinking that I am talking about the pollution it causes to the city be it polluting the ocean, polluting the air or crossing the decibel limits with party songs creating an huge amount of noise pollution. These are just the tip of the iceberg. Real evil is the pollution of minds and pollution of behavior to an extent where some of them start treating themselves as the agent of God himself.

If you live in Mumbai, Pune or any city of the Maharashtra, you will know what I am talking about. Collecting money has become a fashion, if not a requirement. Few receipts can make your life miserable if you are fond of bargaining, especially if you are not a Marathi speaking cast. Yes, I would call it a cast, because behavior is similar i.e. hate other casts and they are no different.

One of the incidences will prove what I want to say here. It was Sunday morning and bunch of people rang the door bell asking for some donation for the Ganesh Chaturthi which they were going to setup just outside the colony. ‘But we have already donated to the people who came yesterday’ the guy said from the house.

‘That was for your colony, this is for the area’

At first it was too much for the guy but then if there are bunch of goons standing on your door, who would like to argue. He just went inside, came out and gave them a hundred rupee note.

‘Do we look like a beggar to you? You will spend thousands for your comforts, but when it comes for God you will shy away. You non-Marathi’s come here and then disrespect our God. We won’t take less than five hundred.’

What option is left? Can you take a stand against this? We all know where this money goes; surely not a penny from it is spent for a good cause. The soon you refuse to give those five hundreds. You are the one disrespecting THEIR God, which was supposed to be yours too. You are in front of a gang of goons, shouting, abusing and threatening to you and your family. All others around will come and start blaming you for not respecting the God and for creating a scene just for few rupees, so much that you start thinking about leaving the place and settle somewhere else. Is it just few rupees? And moreover is it a matter of money? Doesn’t a donation is something which a man does with his own will? If not, why it is even called a donation? Call it a ransom, call it a threat.

It so much threat that women and girls avoid crossing the mandap alone, huge amount of money is collected for a special queue which will take you to the idol faster, higher the money nearer you can reach the god. Donate a gold crown and you will be made to sit in the lap of the God. This is how it works now.

A beautiful event and a respectful festival, is slowly losing its value, its charm and its dignity. But then as it is said no Good can be good forever, slowly, eventually it turns to Evil.
In the end Ganpati bappa morya (oh Ganpati ! My Lord)!! all you already know …  

Just a small way..

‘Great, that would be really good. In fact i was about ask your father to tell you to come home for a week. It has been long that we have kept them waiting.’ My mother said trying to control her excitement. This was the reaction when i said i was planning to come home for few days, as i had some leaves and work was moderate, so was best time to come home. But now with her this statement i started giving a second thought on my travel.

I have been avoiding all this for long now. Its the age, which is to be blamed. My mother thinks its being late for me to get married now. She has already started the process of searching a suitable girl for me and has selected and rejected few of them on her level. And finally there were two of them who were, according to her, good enough for me to meet. As if i was the prime minister of India and i had to decide either i want to sign a defence agreement with US or Russia. I know i know defence agreement is department of defence ministry and president and not prime minister, it was just to explain the situation.

Anyway now real problem was ahead. I wanted to go home but not with this condition of meeting some girl. ‘what should i do now?’ i asked particularly no one, and that no one replied nothing, strange, isn’t it? There was no one to help or to provide some solution for this grave issue. I tried explaining the situation to many of my friends and almost all of them laughed on it and said what’s harm in meeting them and yes all of them asked to let them know what happened over there. One of them even said, when you meet the girl take a picture from your cell phone like shahid kapoor takes in movie vivah, ha...i don’t know whether to laugh on this or cry on the movie. Movies have become too unrealistic now days.

I took the printout in my hand, staring it, one thing was sure that i was going home and that too in next four days. I was yet to find a way to avoid meeting any girl. I thought, thought and thought about it. Next three days just kept thinking. And yes there it was, a solution and a perfect one.

I was standing in front of my home, smiling on the brilliant idea that came out of my own processor. Controlling my smile i pressed the doorbell. She opened the door and her jaw dropped, here i was head shaved. ‘too hot isn’t it?’ i asked and winked. She was still standing on the door, mouth opened.

make peace with yourself...

After pressing the send button on my mail box, I started thinking if this was right. I guess I already knew the answer. And moreover I knew there was no reply coming back. My mind said I should have never done this, as this is not going to help in anyway, rather it’s going to complicate the life further. This was one of the very rare cases, in which I had not listened to my mind, I had ignored it completely. They say this is the way it works, you stop listening to your mind. Now I have started to believe it.

Time was passing, every few minutes I was checking my mailbox, and each time there was a slight ray of hope that there will be a reply. And every time that ray was dying in the shadow of no-reply. Hours passed, but hope is something which does not accept defeat easily. It takes its own path and time to fulfill, to transform in reality. Sometimes it does, sometimes the answer is no. but you wait till you get the answer. That is why it is so powerful, gives patience to hold on.

I was holding on to it. Back of my mind was the current situation, a perfect one. Nice paying Job, a developed country to live, family, friends, though far but always there, easy going life, but then there was something which was missing. A pinch of salt maybe. An extra dose can spoil the recipe I knew, but still I wanted to add it. I was like a student who gets satisfaction only when he solves a complicated problem.

There were no complications. But now by this mail I had created one and in case a reply comes it’s going to be worse, if not bad.

Nine hours later, a mail popped up in my mail box. It was with the same subject line, with a prefix of RE: Hope had found the answer. It was positive. A pinch of salt was added, yet to be tasted. I opened it, felt my heart racing.

It doesn’t matter what the reply was. It doesn’t even count. What matters is you take a step to change the feeling which bothers you day and night. Do what you think you should do to make peace with your mind. Let it be a threat to your easy going life. Let it create some complications. But if you feel this is something you need to do, do it.

Now coming to the reply of the mail, it can be different for different people,

Like for someone reply may be, ‘your resignation has been accepted’, for someone else a simple ‘I do’, for one it could be saying, ‘I am also breaking up with you’. It can be reply from your father that he forgives you for your mistakes. Or it can be a reply which says, ‘don’t ever try to contact me again’.

Mind always resists change, but you ought to do this for it. An unfinished task, half left talk, unsaid feelings; never shared thoughts are just a reply away. Whatever the reply is, is the answer. An answer which helps you make peace with yourself.

If everyone answers 'c'

I don’t know how many of us thought about it, but this might be a sure shot way of getting a highest grade, if grading system is based on highest scoring number.

 

I recently finished my MS degree and this thought has occurred many a times in my mind. What if you are able to convince all your classmates for it? Think of the result. Everyone having highest grade, no failures, all at the same level, no five pointers and 6 pointers.

If you have still not understood what I am trying to convey, let’s understand it by an example. Let instead of 80 people in your class, there are four, going through the plan each one has selected option ‘c’ as their answer. Now what will happen while checking? If all questions are having answer as ‘c’, all are correct else all are wrong, but all are same, highest. If one or two questions are having answer as ‘c’ still the result does not change. If you are thinking what if the questions are not in order or jumbled, then think again, cause if you think closely it doesn’t matter at all as far as all have answered ‘c’.

I know what I am talking here is illegal as our whole society is based on law of competition and it’s perfectly righteous. I was just talking about the power of unity, once you unite, anything can be changed, be it the system itself.  

Now if anyone wants to question ‘why only C? Why not A or B?’ you can laugh on yourself.

I remember one of the personality development trainings in which the trainer gave us all a balloon and a pin and announced, ‘let’s see who manages to keep his balloon safe by others and he will get a prize’ and that’s it, the next moment whole room turned into a war zone, trainees were hell bent on bursting others balloon, there were some smart moles, who managed to remove the air from it and kept in their pockets and blew back again once the exercise was over, but later that was declared illegal. No one was left with a safe balloon.

All eyes were filled with shame when the trainer said, ‘I never asked you to burst others balloon, I just asked you to keep yours safe’.

A knife is not always to kill, why we as a human take a path of destruction when we get even slightest of power? Power is to protect, to maintain peace, not for demonstration, not to destroy.

Now if anyone wants to question ‘Then why he gave a pin to all?’ well nice question, answer will be because a donkey does not have horns.