Sarfaroshī Kī Tamannā

                                

Travel sojourns not only fill the void of monotonous life but also widen our horizon and enriches us with beautiful experiences of life. Lately, we travelled to our honeymoon destination - Andamans & Nicobars after twenty-three years. The only difference was that this time we visited with the price tag (that usually comes along with marriage) - our little miss Snoopy :)


Her bizarre questionnaire and queer understanding have pushed our travel experiences to another level. Along with regular touristy tasks, the most which intrigue her is the history and the tales of the freedom fighters associated with the place. Port Blair offers such fables in abundance! The most picturesque archipelago and pristine beaches roar the weirdest tale of brutality by the British and the darkest chapter of India’s struggle for freedom.

                                           

KALA-PANI or CELLULAR JAIL stands tall till date and quavers with rage while narrating the soul-breaking stories of our great freedom fighters. As the light and sound show chronicles the barbarity of the Irish jailor, David Barrie: children like my Snoopy realise the cost of freedom our martyrs have paid for the privilege of the motherland.

                                          

As the grand Peepal tree started reverberating inhumane suffering of the Patriots, (Fazl-e-Haq Khairabadi, Yogendra Shukla, Batukeshwar Dutt, Babarao Savarkar, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, Sachindra Nath Sanyal, Bhai Parmanand, Sohan Singh, Subodh Roy and many more) goosebumps appeared all over the body and eyes welled up involuntarily. Their sacrifices jolted equally irrespective of their caste, creed or religion. They only sang one song in harmony “Sarfaroishi Ki Tamanna Abb Hamare Dil Mein Hai.”

Forty-five minutes show infused us with patriotism, we moved out with the mixed bag of emotions. Snoopy fretted, so much so wanting to flog David Barrie’s ghost.
I appeased her with candy and a book about freedom fighters, and myself tuned in a news channel. Regardless to say the fight on the news channels was more heinous, and many appeared to me like jailer David Barrie.

Our forces were being questioned.  Communal fissure being created to propagate 'KISSA  KURSI KA' more critical than the motherland. Coincidentally that day our Braveheart, Abhinanadan was handed over to India. The euphoria of the public was unparalleled. The whole nation was glued to the television, young men were dancing with the drums --- for a moment I thought his contribution would go to the history like freedom fighters, but the very next day he went into the oblivion and talks about ‘only trees being uprooted by our forces’ surfaced all across the news channels. They belittled the gutsy effort of our forces.
In the times, when our netas are addressing dreaded criminals as ‘JI’ and forces as ‘KYA KIYA JI?’ is it even heroic to fight for the country?

In case netas have forgotten the price tag for the freedom, and need some insight,  I think they should board a flight and visit KALA-PANI!
                           

#RewariRapeCase

                                   

"Beti Bachao; Beti Padhao" a slogan so derogatory in itself; belittling female infants, girls and women.  Bachao from whom? Who are the predators?  Fathers? Brothers? Uncles? Relatives?

Somehow, 'Bachaa Liya'! Then what? Padhao - Likhao, for a bunch of scoundrels to make her a bait? To let her dreams and aspirations squeezed by the lusty fangs of some venomous creatures? Or to slog from one police station to another to expose her scars to make the officials believe that such a heinous crime has been done?  Or for the endless debates on the primetime news for a couple of days?  Or to be left to live in despair and gloom?
Has anyone answers to these questions? Hopelessly - no!

Haryana girls have notched up to space,  have brought gleaming medals for the country, have set precedents in every field. Nonetheless, men treat them like doormats - to get over their frustrations, nympholepsy and lewdness.

Gang-rapes in Haryana has become a norm, a sensational headline for newspapers every day. #Rewarirape case, where a topper of the state is being offered a spiked drink, raped for eight hours by more than eight men,  hopped from one police station to another to register an FIR. No police officers visited the site of crime as every official was busy at CM's rally, her critical medical examination suffered (SWABS SAMPLES) because of the delay in filing a complaint. And CM said yet again, "Law will take its course and assured that culprits will be punished."

Culprits give two hoots to your laws, Mr CM! Judicial procedures and punishments offer no deterrent to these criminals. They goof up with regulations and boggle your law and order again and again.
People talk about gender sensitisation, I want to talk about law-sensitisation about police-force-ethics sensitisation; about human-values sensitisation! Even animals don't behave like these rapists. We as a nation are failing to impart core values to our fellow citizens. Our primary education is not going in the right direction. I think we need to change the curriculum, and the first and foremost need to teach respect for each woman and human . This nation has learnt to protect the cow, when will they learn to protect a woman?
As a woman, as a mother of daughters, my blood runs cold. Even after educating my daughters in the world's best universities and schools, my pulse runs more than usual until they step inside the house. What is the use of such education? How does it empower a woman? Or what will it take to enable men to understand that an abominable act of few minutes can make a women imbecile for whole life?
Last night primetime news was loaded with #rewarirape case and the hurricane in USA and Philippines.  The images kept haunting me till wee hours. People suffering from storms will emerge out in some time, but will this girl ever be able to come out of the tornado of ravishment? Will, the scars of sexual assault,  keep haunting all her life? Or that bus ride in the hope of higher education will detest her from any further journey?  Questions can be many, but where are the answers?

Our sluggish system, our callous authorities will forget this episode in no time. But, I would like to raise one question, if this whole paraphernalia is not enough to take care of each woman of the state at least provide one toll-free number for such victims where they can reach - and a dedicated police officer and a doctor come to record their statement and offer instant basic medical aid.
At least save them from the disgrace of pleading to register an FRI after the wreaking havoc. At least do this much!
Or soon #MeToo movement will become passe and #Gang-rapeToo will become synonymous to Haryana :(

FOR THAT SMILE

                 

                 

" Oh, mother earth are you infuriated or oppressed?

   Why your own land has become so deplorable?

   Why are children and old groaning in agony?

   Why is the swill of floodwaters making everyone thirsty?

   Why are foods and farms under your gnawing teeth?

   Is the endless deluge is nothing but your rage?

   Or is that we have done something blasphemously wrong?"

  I am sure these words must be pounding in every person's head in GOD'S OWN COUNTRY.

The Malabar Coast of the nation, kissed by the Arabian Sea, sprinkled with palm-lined beaches, backwater, mountains and spice plantations are panting for breath. All this happened in the month of the ONAM...the harvest festival of the state! But what are we reaping this year?  Pain, misery, distress, hopelessness and above all homelessness.

Now that the Kerala flood has been declared as 'SEVERE CALAMITY' funds are pouring in from around the world. Nevertheless, the deluge-ravaged Kerala doesn't need rehabilitation it needs a rebuild. And the courage and resilience of our fellow countrymen can reassemble and reconstruct Kerala in a better manner, I am sure of that. But keeping in view the intensity and magnitude of the floods and landslides in Kerala, the funds needed for this elephantine task is colossal.

The political tussles are on one side and harsh realities on the ground on another. Some authorities say we want to donate others say we don't want to accept. NDRF has released 600 crores, but much more is needed to accomplish, recondition and rehabilitate GOD'S OWN COUNTRY.

We as a humble citizen can contribute too, even if it's a drop in the ocean.  Dears,   'little by little fills the pot'!  And donation in kind and cash are the best options (donating your old clothes and shoes and earning some dharam-karam is a big NO in the name of contribution).

And, we are in no dearth of inspiration for the same:

An expectant mother’s water bag burst - a life she was nurturing for the months in her womb was in danger. She survived and gave birth to a baby boy after being airlifted. Contribute for many such lives those were ushered into this world in such grave conditions and have no home to go back.

A months old child whose mother kept her in the vessel to float above the water at the mercy of water gods. She might have been rescued, but she has to live beyond this.

                                                     

For the elderlies who are almost in the last leg of their lives and of course didn't deserve to see this anticlimax on the peaceful piece of land.

                                               

To appreciate the stellar contribution of Indian forces, to adore their valour and sense of duty. This one picture portrays the commitment and dauntlessness of our Jawans. Contribute to make their efforts more meaningful.

                                       

                                                                       

  SALAM as a salutation for the hundreds of NGOs who worked day and night selflessly. They can only spread their wings only if we contribute generously.

                                                                       

For all the mothers and fathers, who have spent sleepless nights so that their children can sleep peacefully. Let's become benefactors for such mothers so that they can also catch a few peaceful hours of sleep. 

A big shout-out for all the volunteers you have worked relentlessly for the welfare of distressed people, unperturbed.

                               

             

And last but not the least, a homage to all the pandits, priests and Maulvis, who rose above the religion, caste and creed to show respect towards the humanity. Out of the catastrophic episode, if something has shown the ray of hope, it is the reflection of unity and integration. This indeed calls for a celebration in the otherwise fractured nation.

                                                                  

                                                   

 However, if none of the above motivates you, look at the million-dollar smile of this gentleman. His livelihood (probably) on his shoulder and a complacent smile on his face when he is deep down in the water will surely make you think... ‘We can still celebrate life’.

                                               

   

   

OUR CRUMBLING HERITAGE

Last week Karnataka's political drama beguiled us all! The elements of the drama were bizarre, and the characters were taken to refuge from one place to another.
By chance, we checked in the same hotel - in Hyderabad - where the puppetish characters were rehearsing their next scene. My husband and I were delighted by the fact that we might witness people moving in and out with black briefcases. Nevertheless, we couldn't see any of it as, by the time we reached the hotel, they were deported back to Karnataka.

However, my zest to explore the antiques of the city of Nizams kept me going. When I started digging into the history of 'Hyderabad', I found out that the city of Hyderabad was born out of love - the love of gusty Muslim prince, Muhammad Quli Qutab for a young Hindu courtesan  Bhagmati. He was so enamoured of her beauty and voice that he would ride to the village of Chichalam across the river Musi, to meet her beloved. When his father Sultan Ibrahim heard about his alliance with a Hindu girl, he was devastated, but later relented and constructed the  Purana Pul - a massive stone bridge so that his son can reach to his beloved easily.

After ascending the throne, prince defied all the traditions and married Bhagmati. In 1951, he laid the foundation of a new city which he named 'Bhagnagar' after his beloved queen. And, Bhagmati embraced Islam and changed her name to Hyder Mahal and Bhagnagar was renamed Hyderabad after that.

Isn't this Hindu-Muslim love saga a motivational tale in this much-polarised phase of our country?  Do name and religion are over and above the humanity? Or the politicians are juggling 'casteism', 'religionism', 'states' like tangerines in their hands to lure the floating voter.

Anyhow, me and my little bub, far too innocent to understand all this, started to explore the next day and landed at THE FALAKNUMA PALACE.  (also called as 'the mirror of the sky' and now, The Taj Falaknuma). The majestic building took our breath away. One-thirty-four years old pristine-white palace still stands taller than the palace of  Versailles. Then why after more than a century we are failing to construct sturdy flyover bridges or buildings which keep collapsing now and then?
Regardless of technology and delicate machinery probably sincere intention is missing!
Though we left the palace after a couple of hours, the grandeur and opulence travelled along.

Before retiring to bed, I narrated the story of CHARMINAR to my bub, that the King of Hyderabad nearly 527 years ago, knelt and prayed to ALLAH to end the epidemic - plague. Miraculously after a few days, the disease ebbed.

To celebrate the end of plague and to thank the almighty he erected the majestic structure at the very point where he knelt. The grand edifice - a melody set in concrete -  is still trying hard to sing a rhapsody of its past.

The story ended, and we went to the see the alluring beauty the next day. It was around nine in the evening - a month of Ramzan - Lad Bazar effervesced with the food and ITTAR. My bub and I swarmed through the burka-clad women, men and children to reach near the CHARMINAR.

Alas! All the sprightliness faded as we approached near the CHARMINAR - it was crowded with all sort of peddlers - selling Chinese goods around the inspired piece of architecture.  The structure was not even cordoned off. One of the MINAR was covered with the grubby green cloth - trying to hide its falling grace. I looked at the monument with bleary eyes!
Every time I see our golden heritage - abandoned, fragmented and ripped - I feel robbed!

Sometime back I visited one the oldest fort of India, Ranthambore Fort. An approximately 1300years old fort was in shambles - walls scribbled with chalks - women washing clothes is 1300 old HAMAM, after being declared as world UNESCO site.
Corroding TAJ MAHAL is a familiar story.

My little bub asked, 'So mom where did  the KING kneel exactly?'
I looked around - the chaos in and around the ailing MINAR turned me deaf and dumb. I snapped, 'It's late now - let's go back to the hotel. '
But are we late to save our heritage? I thought. And, then I thought - one or two black briefcases could save our splendid allegorical monuments. 

But would anyone like to woo these monuments? That is a question of concern.

Baba Black sheep!

                                               

Baba Black sheep have you any wool?

No girl! No girl, for I am a wolf.

I am not blindfolded, and I am not  a fool,

Baba Black sheep you are not a wolf!

Oh, girl! Oh, girl! If I am not a wolf,

Let's go into the den and let me give you wool!

Baba black sheep you are copious and warm,

Oh! Baba Black sheep, I love your charm.

Oh, girl! Oh, girl! Are you captivated by my charm?

Shoo away now, or you will crumble down.

Yeah, I am blindfolded, and I am a fool.

 You are not a Black sheep, but you are a wolf!

  Oh, girl! Oh, girl! Yeah, I am a wolf :)

 - Amita Thakur Dogra

NIRABHAYA

                 

Winds were brazen; clouds were dark.

The crisp wintry night that was!

But my spirit was sprightly, buoyant and czar.

My bosom friend's warm embrace was ajar.

We joyously hopped onto a bus. 

We sizzled and giggled, losing ourselves in each other's warmth.

We cared a little who was in and around.

But we realised very soon,

hawks and vultures; beasts and goons were floating around.

My bosom friend tried to shoo them away,

Instead, he fell prey to their hawkish eyes.

Vultures ripped my body; beasts gashed my soul apart.

Goons hurled us out of the bus; naked, bruised and agape.

We cried we bled, almost till our last breaths.

After five years of the barbaric and devilish act,

I heard they are going to be hanged to death. 

One vulture, one hawk; one beast and a goon,

will go away from this earth very soon.

What about the looming hawkish spirits?

Can you hang and bury them forever? 

Till then I am not - 'Nirbhaya.'

Purple Pulp!

PURPLE PULP!

I was green, my greenery gave solace to everyone.

For a while, my foliage was enough to bring radiance and luminance on everyone's face.

I tried hard to serve propitiously!

                          ****

I was pink, my pinkness took over greens and blues. 

My pinkness made everyone blush and flush. 

I was gazed upon with love and lust. 

I was kept tight - high and low, far and wide.

Till recently a purple tide came, I became an eyesore for everyone.

I was abandoned, I was burned, I was molested and deserted.

                            ****

I am Purple, I am rhetoric and grandiloquent.

I know I am acting bit pricey right now. 

It's only my final effort to tell you all .....

Usher me tenderly, love me honestly, place me where I belong to.

'Bhaioon aur Bahno' - I don't want to be pegged out like pink !!!

Happier Heart :)

World Heart Day

In a coldhearted world, today we dedicate the day to our tiny little 'heart'!

The heart is a biological organ, assigned to a human body for pumping blood to all the parts of our body. Till the time we are alive its performing its job sincerely. But are we sincere to this small little muscular mass?

Cardiac diseases are taking a maximum number of lives, BP is the most common ailment. And angioplasty and by-pass surgeries are most fashionable surgeries of all. 

Have you ever tried to hear the thumping beats of your heart? If not, please understand it now! How rhythmic and in sync it is with your body and soul. But we are totally out of sync with it, we do everything that goes absurdly against its wishes. 

Show us Indian sweets, Cholle-Bhatture, starchy oily food and our taste buds start dancing against the melody of our heart beat!  Let heart skip a beat or two, but taste buds should quench the thirst first. 

Food is not only one of its foes, but our lazy genes are even bigger culprits to take away its strength. Blame on to the genetic composition or our upbringing; we are comfort lovers, and nothing can prevail over our comfort zone. Physical exercise is our last priority, our mind does excessive manipulation how to avoid it. Summers are too hot, winters are too cold, autumn is full of dust and spring is full of allergies! We have all the lame excuses to give to our heart when it asks for some 'cardio'. But poor thing beats in all the seasons 'lub-dub-ta'   in tandem. 

Food, genes and third is the stress which is the enormous threat to our tiny red little thumping organ. Stress gives it all sort of wrong signals, continuously tries to kill its harmony and peace. And ultimately disturbs its melody and puts it on the nodes of BP pills.  

But what is this stress? In this competitive,  ambitious and lusty world, stress comes as a package. It runs parallel with all our desires. Right from a school going child to a grandparent everyone is suffering from some or other level of stress. The stress of achieving, the stress of competing, stress of outshining and blah, blah, blah; plethora of pressures puts a mega stress on our heart. Poor muscular bag beats along with extra pressure nevertheless.

But how long and how far? Can we do something to be its good companion?

Can we do something to ease its journey? Can we fine tune its melody?

Yes, by all means, we can!

We Indians can rejoice our food as much as we want, our food is the most healthy and nutritious in the whole world. We only have to be wise enough to pick and choose our food according to our lifestyles. Should stop having fast-food and shall switch to homemade food as much as we can. 

We are the luckiest to be born in this country, where nature showers all its shades in abundance. We see the sunshine round the year; rain snow and wind spurt out their colours off and on. Ever weather adds our health and body. We should use most of it. Walk in the sun, walk in the rain feel the wind and if you are lucky enough witness the snow as well. Play like a child and let your heart feel young again.

Stress it the most serious issue to be dealt with. We call it 'stress full times'; but times are same its our thought process which has filled the vacuum with stress. Live in the moment, do your best, try to be selfless and breathe out to let go! Stress may go as well. 

No two individuals are same. No two hearts are same, no two minds are same, so lets stop ourselves comparing to hundreds and thousands.

Its our life lets live it our way! Its our heart let it beat its own way! Lets just try to be in sync with it, this is best we can do to make it stronger and happier :)

Happy Heart day indeed!

Homage to Pullela Gopi Chand !

                                   

He was meant for some sport, he figured out early in life. 

He fell in love with shuttle and racquet in no time.

His soul was trapped inside the walls of the court.

He leapt and bounced at the tune of his coach. 

Collected used shuttles from every corner of the world to attain new heights at every shot.

For he could not afford to use the new shuttle for every practice game!

He lived like a hermit for the love of medals.

But instead of medals life put him on crutches.

He crumbled for a while, but the desire to be donned with tricolours kept him alive.

After major knee surgery, he conquered all the major tournaments in the world.

He missed out so desirous Olympic medal.

He promised himself he would get it one day.

He did it not once but twice.

He was compared to Dronacharya - while Dronacharya took away Eklavaya's thumb, he took away billions of hearts! 

My wallet's Night Out !

                     

Last Sunday was full of thrill, excitement, and passion as I was at the promotional event of my book. It was a scorching afternoon, and Pragati Maidan was full of enthusiastic readers, I  thought so!
Little did I know that along with bibliomaniacs there were kleptomaniacs and pickpockets as well.
After the thorough promotion of my book and shopping a couple of them for my daughters, I thought I had a splendid day. Merrily, I moved out of the venue, took the shuttle service organised by the authorities and joyously stepped into my car. On the way, I opened my handbag and skipped a heartbeat or two as I found out my wallet was missing. I freaked out and checked left,  right and centre. I called up every shop and counter I visited, even spoke to the Police on duty. I was guided to contact Tilak Nagar Thana to lodge a complaint. Promptly, I got a message, 'This is Delhi Police will get back to you shortly.' Nobody got back to me till now, though :) All the effervescence of the day evaporated, and I felt so much like a flat coca-cola without a fizz.
My mind tried to quickly calculate what all I had in my wallet, how much cash? What kind of documents and how many credit and debit cards? Poor at calculation in general and in such circumstances even most destitute! Some part of brain commanded, "Stop calculation and block your cards!" Luckily I got through my bank in the first go and blocked all of them in a shot.
I was a bit relieved but still couldn't get out of the shock that when and where someone sneaked out my wallet! Back home I hugged my daughters and tried to de-stress, counselling myself that I did some charity -  let the pickpocketer be happy. But deep in my heart, I was sad for I  had lost my favourite wallet as well. This promotion was indeed costly :( At ten in the night, I got a call from an unknown number saying, "Madam I found your wallet on the floor of my shop, I tried all the numbers on your cards and finally got yours!"  I couldn't believe my ears, I fumbled, asking, "Is there something inside my wallet?"
Bang came to the answer, "Yes Ma'am it has all kind of cards, some medicines, and a  hundred-rupee note!" Wahoo! How generous is this pickpocketer? He left at least 'Kiraya-Bharra' for me! Then who was the gentleman who is trying to be so kind I enquired!
"I am a vendor, I found your wallet on the floor, I will keep your wallet safely with me tonight, you can collect in the morning from my stall," he replied. Now, who he was? None my concern! Little did he know my wallet was more expensive than all the cash put together in it, and I would be more than happy to have it back!
Next morning I got my wallet back, safe and sound! Thanks, dear for taking my wallet for a night out, and returning back safely! You are more sensitive, compassionate and prompt than Delhi police!

My Aaradhya by Amita Thakur Dogra

Rain, rain and blame game !

A lazy day with low clouds and mellifluous drizzle, a third cup of tea since morning, radio playing the most romantic and mushy songs of the 70s and 80s.  Rare quaint moments of life. But only if you can afford to sit at home.

Last night was a different story when it rained heavily for two hours, and our very own Gurugram came to a complete halt. Commuters were stranded for hours and hours on the highway and in the by-lanes of Gurugram. One of them was my daughter who left from MG road at five and reached home at eleven in the night. It was a very anxious, frustrating and hopeless commute for my daughter and even more for me. Five hours for ten kilometres drive .....for some even more. We are a developing country, it happens!

Every year in monsoon we get such anxious moments. Politicians start blame games, mud slinging, arguments, counter-arguments. Same happened this year as well. Since morning I have been reading and watching on different versions of different parties and politicians. Best came from Mr Sisodia, "Jumlon se Jam Nahin Khulega (platitudes won't resolve jams)."  Very correct sir, per Kaise khulega wo batiye?

Funny to read that Mr Khattar is blaming Delhi for rising water levels in Gurugram and vice versa. After the city is wholly drowned in rains, Mr Gadkari orders for a team to assess the situations. Sir if your team had visited earlier things would have been much easier for them.

Right now it's a complete circus going on, one Domino pizza guy slipped on the highway, and his pizzas floated on the water absolutely free. Few are playing cards inside the stranded cars as they can not move an inch. Shona road is ready to take a boat ride as our vehicles are yet not available to float. Much more I cannot describe as I can not dare to move out. But I pray for those who are stranded. 

But let's not just blame our slow-paced government machinery, we also contribute to this mess. Clogging mainly happens because of garbage and polythene which we unmindfully use and throw here and there. At least let's pledge to do our bit until we can not mend our potholes and highways. 

Till the time let's listen and think "Bhegge bhegge ratoon  mein, meethe meethe batoon mein , assa lagta hai ---------"

21st June !

                                

21st June! An important day in my life, it's my dear husband's birthday. United Nations made it even more relevant by marking it as international Yoga day. 

It's a reminder for me to draw in extra breaths during my Pranaam session so that day goes by extra smooth, without a tiff!

As they say, yogic culture goes back to Lord Shiva,  He is being considered as Adiyogi or first Guru. Yoga is not regarded as a religion or as a belief or philosophy, but it's a method. This statement was well proved when I did rounds of doctors from my physician to neurologist for a minor problem like a headache.  All the doctors tried various chemicals to tune my Brain's untuned chemical. In the end, all of them said, "Please practice yoga!"

 After being attended by all streams of medical sciences when this statement came in unison, I questioned myself ....."Do we need multi-speciality hospitals or we need Muti speciality yoga centres?" In the stressful times when we all are jostling within ourselves,  probably yoga is the only science which teaches us to be happy amongst ourselves. Media is going frenzy about 'Yoga day.' See any tabloid, all are full of different kinds of yoga - anti-gravity yoga, steam yoga, water yoga blah -blah- blah. 

But Sadhguru defined "Yoga" in a beautiful way. He said yoga is geometry,  it's all about proper alignment of our body so that all the cosmic powers can flow adequately. 

He gave an excellent example, people from at least my generation or older can relate to it easily. He said, "Till the early eighties we all aligned our aluminium antennas so that it can match the required frequency for the best television reception. Precisely our body requires an angle for the best cosmic reception. Yoga is not about trying 100 different postures.  It's not about sweating or losing weight. It's about precise alignment, and everybody has a different angle."

So husband dear I want to gift you a precise alignment on this birthday, please join and let me help to find mine :)

Happy yoga day to all - let's take charge of our mind and emotions to explore other dimensions of life in a better way. 

Agatha Christie for AgustaWestland scam !!!!!!

I am an ordinary citizen of a grandiose country, proud to boast about few things, modestly accepting many. All we can do is read in print or media discuss within our four walls and then silently wait for another. Latest in the air is AgustaWestland scam.  A for Augusta, B for Bofors, C for Commonwealth ... V for Vayapam and so on. We can assign one to every alphabet!  Dishonest methods to acquire hundred of crores is defined as the scam,  An average in math like me can't even figure out how many zeros it requires.

It's heartrending to read the names of defence admirals, politicians, babus and secretaries all joining hands together to rip off the integrity of the country they are serving for! The story of AgustaWestland says a deal worth rupees 3,600 crores was done to acquire 12 VVIP helicopters in 2010, which was six folds higher than the regular price. Later the deal was scrapped due to corruption allegation and for a kickback of some 400 crores only. But in due process country got three choppers and lost many crores!

An ordinary citizen like me listens to such stories and then gets back to mundane routine. It does not matter who took the money as we know it has gone to drain.  But a thought that tickles me is,  do such politicians ever imagine the scenes of rooftops of our buses and trains loaded with people risking their lives to reach back home? Have they ever noticed one auto rickshaw carrying twenty children to school? Have they ever saw daily wagers cycling on highways to achieve to their sites, or a rickshaw-puller riding his age-old rickshaw -  before asking a kick back for a chopper which has cabin height of 1.8 meters? Dear babus,  we all Indians are of average height 5 to 6 feet, we all require basic safety standards. If this money had not gone to drain, we could have had achieved many such standards.

With bleeding heart and agony in mind, like to do some mockery. Lend those three choppers to taxi drivers who are sitting idle these days, blocking roads here and there.  Let them fly AW101 and let a common man travel in regal babu style! At least some money will come back! In the meantime hand over the investigation to Agatha Christie :)

NAMASKAR FROM GURUGRAM !!!

नमस्कार गुरुग्राम् :) 




Yesterday it was all over media that we are not Gurgaonites, but we are Gurugramites!  The news came to me as if someone has pelted a stone at me and said, 'Catch it if you can, or you will be hurt!'
Gurgaon is often described as Singapore of India and is on the world map for MNCs, is now being face-lifted from its international image to mythological image.

For all the fellows who are curious to know about this 'Guruji', it's Guru Dronacharya who taught archery and martial arts to all the Kauravas and Pandavas. But lesser known fact about him is that he was the first test tube baby if Google history states it right!  Just trying to stress on a point that Guruji was born in such scientifically advanced time. He grew up in an environment where he was given best of education and was skilled to superhuman capacity.

Honourable Mr Khattar we don't mind to associate ourselves with such great warrior in any which way, but just his name will suffice the growing problems of Gurugram?

 Suppose Guruji's soul decides to visit his hometown in present times, the first thing he will have to look for would be a mask and a steroidal inhaler as our Gurugram has less of oxygen and more of dust and concrete. Next, he will have to carry a torch as we have 10 to 8 hours of electricity cuts.  A water tank, as Gurugram is not left with much underground water. His own vehicle, as metros are always overloaded, and we have no other public transport. But finally, once he lands at Gurugram, he will surely be impressed with all the skyscrapers, cyber hubs, pubs, hotels, malls and blah blah blah.

But what if he falls into the trap of our traffic and pot-holed roads? He will inevitably have to use his Brahmastra for evacuating himself!  He might question to himself," So  was this the town I ever lived, no I don't think so?"

So Mr Minister point is not Gurgaon or Gurugram - we need a Gaon where at least an essential quality of life is provided- clean water, gentle air,  24hrs electricity and some greenery so that our children can breathe.

Jotting down my Grievance number (at municipality website ) 20163264972 registered on 2nd March 2016 regarding such complaints. Status is still 'registered,' I hope now that name has changed the machinery of government will also change and will give Guruji some honour. After all, its GURU'S GRAM now!

Beautiful girls , fans are for cooling !!!!!

God Almighty decided WOMAN  to be the creator and perpetuator of this race called Mankind. From time immortal this has been happening, from giving birth to lending all her life, women have been busy taking forward the race called humans.  In olden times it was a lovely arrangement; all the men would go to work and women would sit back and nurture the race. In the evening men, women and children would sit together eat and drink merrily and then would retire to beds. I have not witnessed those times, but I think things were simpler, better and happier 

Time evolved, and so changed the thought process of mankind. Over the times, I guess women sliced and diced their virtue of being a woman!  They took a long hard look over their womanhood and probably reached a conclusion that, "We can do much more than just perpetuating this race ." From there begun the saga of their fortunes and misfortunes.

Fortunes I don't need to state we all know our women in space, in sports arenas, in Hollywood, in politics, in business and much more. Why I am saying misfortune? For the fact that many women have overburdened themselves in this arms race.  They have no option to shun their responsibility as creator and perpetrator, but they overloaded themselves with many others.  Though resilience and endurance of women can not be challenged but sometimes in the process to preen, our mind gets fatigued. And when the mind becomes weary, happiness ends.  And when there is no happiness or contentment what is the whole exercise for?

Women of our generation are pressurizing themselves too hard to walk the walk. Reasons could be different ( desire to achieve,  financial, or need of personal situation ), but I urge to all you beautiful women take a breather. Analyze your needs and demands and then reboot your soul, " How much I want and how much I can do ??".

Every day in the news, the suicides of celebrities rock us all, not only celebrities but girls next door also do this. It's boggling to see the powerhouse of resilience crumbling down like this!  If you are unhappy with the situation, please reach out to your dear ones. If that does not work, look for medical help. The irony of this time is, if Humans make you unhappy, pills may make you happy :).  But please please, please !!!!!  Your place is in hearts,  if not in one's may be in another's. You are too indispensable to end up yourself on fans :(  Fans are for cooling, sit under and cool your heels!  Time never remains same!

MORTAL REMAINS :(

Earning smiles :)

In today's time, everyone yearns to earn something or else, dollars, pounds or rupees, bank balance, shares, funds, equities, and properties. All these things are benchmark our lives. 

To earn all this, we put many precious moments of our lives at stake ........like spending times with our loved ones, peace of mind, the sleep of our nights, tranquility of our soul. Still at the end of the day, if we try, to sum up, the day's  earnings we get a grim smile on our face. And then to come out of such harsh situations, we sometimes try meditation, pooja path or other spiritual means. But still, the craving, hunger, and desire for earnings of life never end.  

But sometimes we earn very precious tangible or intangible assets in life with very simple deeds. I received a bonus today with an unadorned, but the thoughtful act of mine. 

It so happened that I became friends with an uncle who is a thorough gentleman. Unfortunately living without his better half to whom he loved a lot. From his narratives, I could make out that how much pain one yearns when the spouse leaves you lurching in middle of life, and children sail away miles across.

 He can boast about all the earnings of life I mentioned above, but still, he looked very desolated to me. Whenever I met him, I started spending five minutes with him. Mutual admiration grew, and we started talking more.  Somehow  I could see through that how deprived man can be of simple things if he doesn't have his woman by his side. And simplest of all is home made food .....so I sent across once. And that simple practice of mine earned me so much that I would like to share today's conversation with the uncle;

 Words can't explain but this honor is a big one ....if a bowl of Kheer can earn a father and daughter in today's time, then I would say things are not that bad yet :). With a choked heart and happy feeling; this treasure earned I will keep in the locker of my life forever and ever.

Whatsapp

Another holiday somewhere on earth is culminating with a lot of fond memories, fun, and experiences. Every journey is "out of the box "  learning process. We imbibe so many things knowingly or unknowingly. This holiday I was forced to notice that technology has done wonders.  The World is smitten by this app or that app, but of course, the king of apps is WHATSAPP👑.  First time on our international travel we didn't buy a local calling card, WHATSAPP took care of calls. 

Every morning at breakfast lounge seven-course breakfast meal was laid with beautiful colors and delicacies, but hardly did I see anyone noticing that. All I saw everyone's plate full in one hand and phone in another.

 Hardly did I discern anybody admiring food because WHATSAPP messages were pouring in, which I hope were more amusing or entertaining.  This is probably the reason our digestive enzymes are so confused these days 😄 because they can't understand WHATSAPP.🤔

No matter what age, creed or nationality everyone is hit by this WHATSAPP bug. Not only calling or messaging it has become informative in many other senses as well.

Let's mock about WHATSAPP DP (display pic ) first. Many are there on our contact list but still few are our favorite and like a morning ritual first thing first we all check their DPs. 

Teenagers first ...., their reaction to DPs are best, "Oh man so and so had DP with so and so last night; It isn't the same? Gosh, they broke up last night that means! " 

 " Poor thing is always flocked by the bunch of friends, I think he is single!' " I have no status to show let's put a DP with mom, dad, bro or sis at least it's comforting ☺️."  When you see a couple smiling, clung to each other with so many hearts as status, you can bet couple is going smooth and having the best time of their lives 😆😆.

We middle aged people also have many stories to tell through our DPs and status. Our birthdays,  anniversaries,  Mothers day,, Father's Day are all wished first on WHATSAPP than verily.

 Travel destinations, our achievements, kids results are also displayed beautifully on WHATSAPP 😍. Many a times status also reflects husband and wife had a terrible fight last night or things are not so good here and there. After reading the status, we start calling, and we get the answer, "it's all ok now yaar,  It happened last night I forgot to update status 😌." 

Parents of our generation are struggling as well to get into the groove of this WHATSAPP addiction.Though poor things are trying hard,  my dad mostly sends messages at wrong contact. Doesn't matter they will also learn with time 😍.  

Sum total WHATSAPP has become an open diary of our lives. It's addictive, interactive and entertaining but yes those essay type jokes are the most irritating feature of WHATSAPP 😁. Technology has really revolutionized our lives, but still, I crave for one such app which is more tangible and brings each of us more close than tabs and US 😄.

SCHOOLING ....NOW AND THEN !!!

In the past two decades, our country is struggling to emerge as a developed nation. I can't comment on all issues,  but as far as schooling is concerned  India can proudly boast of having one of the finest schools in the world.

Yesterday was the sports day of my five years old tricky daughter,  who is somewhat prankish and modestly frank at home; but to our amazement, we witnessed her as a most obedient child there. For sure it was a magic wand of the school.
It has been almost twenty-six years since I passed my school. Fond memories of school always remain with us but if I go in the series of flashback, our sports day reminded me of everyday white uniform with white Bata canvas shoes (extra finished with CHALK to look sparkling white).

 PT time and then; Kabaddi, Kho-Kho, Badminton, TT  and at the end of the sports day two ladoos!  I was never into any kind of sports, so for me, sports day didn't mean a lot, (though now I realise how important it is ) nor our schools propelled us for the same.

 I can't blame my school, at the modest amount of Rupees 15 per quarter it gave me a lot ( yes believe it or not this was our fee at  Kendriya Vidyalaya ). It gave me worth that now I can afford Rupees X per quarter for my daughters. But money is not the point here. I am talking about the paradigm shift in the education system. When three to five years of tender kids ( of different nationalities ) showcased their skills and knowledge of global sports, in amalgamation with their academic skills on the playground, we parents were wonderstruck.  The whole ambience was so vibrant and inviting that we also wanted to be kids again!

But still melancholy prevails with a thought that how many children are privileged to get this kind of education?  Still, the majority of my country's children go to Anganwadi, State schools, and Kendriya Vidyalaya.


Nothing much has changed there. Now also tender hands are forced to write a,b,c or 1,2,3 without being given any exposure towards sensitivity to mankind, environment, and moral values.

 No wonder we hear stories about intolerance, revolution, and suicides at the college level!  Today only  I listened to the fiery yet emotional speech by Madam Smriti Irani .....poor thing was herself so baffled, hurt and deluded. She showed determination to bring some change . Madam, please visit over primary schools. If at all anything can be changed it can be modified there. Rest all of us have passed the school!