I am tired, I am afraid.
I fear.
I am afraid of the monster that would take me away if I don't behave myself.
I am afraid of every crushed lemon waiting to unleash its curses on the person stepping on it.
I am afraid of the ghosts lurking in the dark waiting to make a nice meal out of me.
I am afraid of the vampires on the trees in graveyard.
I am afraid of mails and sms telling me to forward to ten people or else god would punish me.
I am afraid of god and his punishment.
I am afraid of my name, making it spell “Onkkaar” would change my luck, yesterday my numerologist told.
I am afraid of the number 13.
I am afraid of what the next person would think of me.
I am afraid of what society thinks of me.
I am afraid that I won't be able to give justifications.
I am afraid of the question mark.
I am afraid of Reason, I go for faith.
I am afraid of knowledge, ignorance is bliss, for it creates god and I feel happy when he is responsible for everything.
I am afraid of responsibilities.
I am afraid of my own image in the mirror.
I am afraid of the truth.
I am tired, I am afraid.
I fear.
This fear is consuming me.
I want to break free.
I want freedom from this fear.
I want to live.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
Irrelevantly relevant
"Hello Sameer, how are you pal?"
"Oh hi Ninad, I am fine, how about you?"
"Me too doin good. Hows workload these days?"
"Same story. Fluctuates from 8 to 12 hours, hows yours?"
"Consistent at eight hours."
"Lucky you are!"
(Two minutes of silence)
"So what else in life?"
"Nothing much. Just the same. Chalo milte hain kabhi.."
A typical conversation. Anywhere you can hear it. Anything missing in the above exchange? The "exchange" itself is missing. It just has inquiries hows-ur-workload, how-do-you-do.
This is where the relevance of irrelevance pitches in.
I love calling one of my friends. She speaks everything from the latest book read to latest
movie watched.Also about the workload and everything else inbetween. In the reply I babble on latest olympics or tennis tournaments or irritate her with technical PJs. Another friend of mine, once there is a call,the chat between him and mine will range from girls to ethics. He will overwhelm me with the details of his latest crush bearing all the while my sarcastic comments.
We think that telling about the funny misunderstanding you had with your boss may not be relevant to your friends. We think that its not relevant to say how you ate almost all the sweet dish prepared by your mother yesterday. We think that its not relevant to speak about how a girl at the ice-cream parlour held you spellbound (or eye-bound). We think that it doesn't matter to the next person how silly you danced at the birthday party of some other friend of yours. Nor does it matter how much you liked the T-shirt you bought yesterday.
Then whats relevant? As the lives go on separating due to inevitable circumstances what we have got to tell our friends? Nothing except hows-the-workload and how-do-you-do and what-else-in-life! I believe that all "irrelevant" things are in fact most important to make a friendship survive the barriers of distance. I do not proclaim that I am a master in these things. But some experiences have taught me to ask a lot of questions to the other person and to open the "exchange". Many times these efforts go in vain and the friendship goes on weakening. At least I used to call
some of them before few years/months. Nowadays I dont even scroll over their names in the contact list in my phone. They have become just a memory location in my cellphone. Nothing more that that!
Finally I thought I'd write it up. Lets become somewhat irrelevant. Lets care less about the business point of view of does-it-matter-to-him-or-her. Lets not sacrifice the friendship at the expense of "relevance". Friendship is beautiful.
"Oh hi Ninad, I am fine, how about you?"
"Me too doin good. Hows workload these days?"
"Same story. Fluctuates from 8 to 12 hours, hows yours?"
"Consistent at eight hours."
"Lucky you are!"
(Two minutes of silence)
"So what else in life?"
"Nothing much. Just the same. Chalo milte hain kabhi.."
A typical conversation. Anywhere you can hear it. Anything missing in the above exchange? The "exchange" itself is missing. It just has inquiries hows-ur-workload, how-do-you-do.
This is where the relevance of irrelevance pitches in.
I love calling one of my friends. She speaks everything from the latest book read to latest
movie watched.Also about the workload and everything else inbetween. In the reply I babble on latest olympics or tennis tournaments or irritate her with technical PJs. Another friend of mine, once there is a call,the chat between him and mine will range from girls to ethics. He will overwhelm me with the details of his latest crush bearing all the while my sarcastic comments.
We think that telling about the funny misunderstanding you had with your boss may not be relevant to your friends. We think that its not relevant to say how you ate almost all the sweet dish prepared by your mother yesterday. We think that its not relevant to speak about how a girl at the ice-cream parlour held you spellbound (or eye-bound). We think that it doesn't matter to the next person how silly you danced at the birthday party of some other friend of yours. Nor does it matter how much you liked the T-shirt you bought yesterday.
Then whats relevant? As the lives go on separating due to inevitable circumstances what we have got to tell our friends? Nothing except hows-the-workload and how-do-you-do and what-else-in-life! I believe that all "irrelevant" things are in fact most important to make a friendship survive the barriers of distance. I do not proclaim that I am a master in these things. But some experiences have taught me to ask a lot of questions to the other person and to open the "exchange". Many times these efforts go in vain and the friendship goes on weakening. At least I used to call
some of them before few years/months. Nowadays I dont even scroll over their names in the contact list in my phone. They have become just a memory location in my cellphone. Nothing more that that!
Finally I thought I'd write it up. Lets become somewhat irrelevant. Lets care less about the business point of view of does-it-matter-to-him-or-her. Lets not sacrifice the friendship at the expense of "relevance". Friendship is beautiful.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I think therefore I am
Who am I?
Whats the purpose of my life?
You are what you are. Nothing more can be said about it.
The question is not what you can do.
The question is what you want to do, what you choose to do.
What you choose to do will become the purpose of your life.
Whats the purpose of my life?
You are what you are. Nothing more can be said about it.
The question is not what you can do.
The question is what you want to do, what you choose to do.
What you choose to do will become the purpose of your life.
Monday, March 17, 2008
He was an obedient man
He was an obedient man.
He started walking to the bus stop. Fortunately, today his position in the queue was within the first ten. He felt glad, now he could hope for a place to sit. Somehow the bus was little late than usual so along with the sports column he also finished reading the editorial. Meanwhile, the queue had grown to fill the entire standing space. The bus came to the stop, being late almost filled up but not so filled up to quash his hopes for a place to sit. People standing in the queue started boarding the bus. Suddenly he heard a ruckus. People standing last in the queue had run to the forefront of the battle for boarding the bus. Within a blink of an eye the bus got filled to the last doorstep. No chance of getting in, again he would be late for the office.
He was an obedient man, he wouldn't break the queue even if he is thousand times late.
Lets go for the railway, he thought. He caught an auto to the railway station. Again he was facing a queue of some twenty five people. He would manage to board it just in the nick of time, so he thought. He reached the counter. Just before he could pass the money to the guy behind, a lady barged in. "Sir, please excuse me, thoda jaldi hai", she requested. He obliged. Again feminine sound, this time directed towards the guy behind the counter for three tickets. "Twenty one rupees madam, please give change", the guy said in a hoarse voice in response to a hundred rupee note. The lady said she had none. The counter guy said he had none to pay back the balance. The lady, being late, raised her voice accusing the counter guy of stashing up the change and intentioanlly putting the customers into discomfort. The voice of the counter guy became more hoarse. Meanwhile, the train reached the platform.
He was an obedient man, he wouldn't board the train if he hasn't got the ticket.
He got the tickets but it was the next train he could board. He went in and was standing on the footboard. Luckily, two of the three fellows occupying a bench next to him got up. He occupied the corner seat and was thinking about the positive side of the day, namely being able to get a seat. The rustic man beside him started chewing the tobacco. After twenty minutes or so, he noticed some movement. The man beside him had spit below the bench. His eyes fell upon the board right in front of his eyes requesting people not to spit. He showed it to the gentleman who had just freed his mouth to be able to speak. The gentleman kindly observed that the rules are not made for him. The gentleman was correct.
He was an obedient man. The rules are made only for obedient men.
He reached office and started working like an obedient man. Now it was lunchtime. He opened his tiffin and started munching his daily cud. The honourable fellow in the next cubicle had begun eating much before the lunchtime and it was his habit to have a banana after the lunch. Honourable fellow ate the banana and threw the peel out of the windows. He observed that the dustbin was kept just outside the room. Honourable fellow explained that he hates getting up every time and going to the dustbin, why can't office administration keep a dustbin near every cubicle?
He was an obedient man. He sympathized with the honourable fellow for bravely bearing the torture inflicted by the administration.
Note:
Hello all,
These thoughts were circulating in my brain for so many days. I don't really understand the natural urge of we, the Indians, to break every possible rule while boasting of high moral values. This is pure hypocrisy. And this hypocrisy is everywhere though I mentioned only about breaking the rules in the article. We brag about being most civilized culture and the next moment we shoo away the begger as if he is no human but an animal. We talk against the racism but refuse to accept a lady as bride if she is slightly darker in complexion. We complain about people suddenly changing the driving lane and the next moment we are ready to break the red signal. The person who pays bribe once, decides somehow to earn it back by accepting bribe himself instead of deciding that at least he would not accept bribe not inflicting the similar pain on others.
There is some inherent flaw in the character of our nation. And instead of repairing it, we are hell bent upon digging it into a canyon.
He started walking to the bus stop. Fortunately, today his position in the queue was within the first ten. He felt glad, now he could hope for a place to sit. Somehow the bus was little late than usual so along with the sports column he also finished reading the editorial. Meanwhile, the queue had grown to fill the entire standing space. The bus came to the stop, being late almost filled up but not so filled up to quash his hopes for a place to sit. People standing in the queue started boarding the bus. Suddenly he heard a ruckus. People standing last in the queue had run to the forefront of the battle for boarding the bus. Within a blink of an eye the bus got filled to the last doorstep. No chance of getting in, again he would be late for the office.
He was an obedient man, he wouldn't break the queue even if he is thousand times late.
Lets go for the railway, he thought. He caught an auto to the railway station. Again he was facing a queue of some twenty five people. He would manage to board it just in the nick of time, so he thought. He reached the counter. Just before he could pass the money to the guy behind, a lady barged in. "Sir, please excuse me, thoda jaldi hai", she requested. He obliged. Again feminine sound, this time directed towards the guy behind the counter for three tickets. "Twenty one rupees madam, please give change", the guy said in a hoarse voice in response to a hundred rupee note. The lady said she had none. The counter guy said he had none to pay back the balance. The lady, being late, raised her voice accusing the counter guy of stashing up the change and intentioanlly putting the customers into discomfort. The voice of the counter guy became more hoarse. Meanwhile, the train reached the platform.
He was an obedient man, he wouldn't board the train if he hasn't got the ticket.
He got the tickets but it was the next train he could board. He went in and was standing on the footboard. Luckily, two of the three fellows occupying a bench next to him got up. He occupied the corner seat and was thinking about the positive side of the day, namely being able to get a seat. The rustic man beside him started chewing the tobacco. After twenty minutes or so, he noticed some movement. The man beside him had spit below the bench. His eyes fell upon the board right in front of his eyes requesting people not to spit. He showed it to the gentleman who had just freed his mouth to be able to speak. The gentleman kindly observed that the rules are not made for him. The gentleman was correct.
He was an obedient man. The rules are made only for obedient men.
He reached office and started working like an obedient man. Now it was lunchtime. He opened his tiffin and started munching his daily cud. The honourable fellow in the next cubicle had begun eating much before the lunchtime and it was his habit to have a banana after the lunch. Honourable fellow ate the banana and threw the peel out of the windows. He observed that the dustbin was kept just outside the room. Honourable fellow explained that he hates getting up every time and going to the dustbin, why can't office administration keep a dustbin near every cubicle?
He was an obedient man. He sympathized with the honourable fellow for bravely bearing the torture inflicted by the administration.
Note:
Hello all,
These thoughts were circulating in my brain for so many days. I don't really understand the natural urge of we, the Indians, to break every possible rule while boasting of high moral values. This is pure hypocrisy. And this hypocrisy is everywhere though I mentioned only about breaking the rules in the article. We brag about being most civilized culture and the next moment we shoo away the begger as if he is no human but an animal. We talk against the racism but refuse to accept a lady as bride if she is slightly darker in complexion. We complain about people suddenly changing the driving lane and the next moment we are ready to break the red signal. The person who pays bribe once, decides somehow to earn it back by accepting bribe himself instead of deciding that at least he would not accept bribe not inflicting the similar pain on others.
There is some inherent flaw in the character of our nation. And instead of repairing it, we are hell bent upon digging it into a canyon.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Just friends
"Mom, I am going to meet Ninad. Cya.."
"Wait a minute. When his majesty wants to be back home?"
"8 o'clock. As usual I'll be late by an hour ! And if you start talking now,
it will be one and half hours.. Hehe.."
Ninad and I grabbed places at a table at Coffee Corner, our usual place for
philosophical discussions. These philosophical discussions are very useful
in the sense that they are ideal for passing all the extra time you have got
by postponing all the assignments to the last day before deadline. On top of
that, though these discussions are completely useless in a certain way, you
don't exactly feel like you have wasted your time.
"Two coffee please. And there is no hurry. Take your own time!"
"Ninad, isn't Sameer coming here?"
"No, as usual some stupid reason. He knows that I know thats a lie. Still
we observe that gentleman-like courtesy of not calling a spade a spade."
"So what has our Mr. Philosopher got to tell me?"
"Today in college, the last lecture was Economics. That professor has the knack
of making it sound the most boring lecture in the world. So I decided to bunk
it and and went to bus-stop. There I saw Priya standing in the queue. And then.."
"Oh is that the lady love in your life? Isn't she a junior of yours?
Cool Ninad ! Sameer told me all about that !! Is she too a Ms. Philosopher?"
"Onkar, I simply hate this habit of yours of interrupting almost every sentence
that I speak !"
"What a coincidence ! I too hate this habit of mine ! Great minds think alike !..
Ok ok, sorry boss. Proceed, Mr. Socrates."
"So Priya and I got into the bus. Thankfully there were empty seats. And after maybe
ten minutes of time she realised that she had forgotten to buy a book for F.A.- Financial
Accounting- of which tomorrow she has to submit an assignment."
"OK Priya, no big deal. No need to go back. You can simply drop in to my home at
about 5 o'clock and collect the book as well as the notes if you want."
"Yeah thats good. Thank god I met you here or else I would have had to go back all
the way in this scorching heat. Yeah, I'll surely drop in by 5 o'clock."
"And yes, I forgot to ask you one thing. You remember, last week you were not
picking your cell so I had to call on your landline number?"
"Yeah, by mistake I had kept the phone on silent mode even after I returned from
college. Why? What happened?"
"The weird thing was that before passing on the call to you, your dad conducted a police
enquiry of me. Whats my full name? What do I do? Where do I stay? Whats my dad's
occupation... Didn't he tell you about that?"
"Nooo and after hanging up your call, you know what, he asked me all these things
he had asked you ! Oh my gawd, my dad is reaaaally orthodox to the core. But I clarified
everything at the end by saying that I see you like my brother.."
"What? Come on! you are not my sister. We are just friends. And thats all. Nothing
more than that, nothing less than that."
"Whats the big deal? Come on, if you are not boyfriend to a girl, you are just like
a brother to her.. Isn't it?"
"Onkar, don't give me that mischievous smile. Let me finish what I want to say and
that too without you making faces. Or else tomorrow's newspaper will have a front
page news - Tortured youth strangles his friend with bare hands ! Ok, what was I telling?
Oh yes.. then after this she got a phone call and we left this topic there itself.
When I got down at the bus-stop, Sameer was buying some stuff in the general stores
in front of the bus stop..."
"Oh Ninad, so sorry. Because you saw me, you didn't get down with her. Extremely
sorry man, I made you miss some of the precious moments of your life. Hey Bhagwan,
agar aapko mujhpe aur meri sachchaai pe jarasaa bhi yakeen hai.."
"Dammmiitt, stop yaar. Come on there is nothing like that. She gets down at the next
stop..."
"But she could have got down here too. Pyar parbat bhi hilaa sakta hai! Aur agar tere
pyaar me jaraasi bhi taakat hai toh..."
"Goddamn you, Sameer. Stop those filmi dialogues. And I told you, she is not my
girlfriend ! We are..."
"Oh, so is she your sister then? Did she tie a Rakhi to you this Rakshabandhan? Tell
me, what has..."
"Look here Sameer, she is neither my girlfriend, nor is my sister. We are just friends."
"Oh don't give me this crap. This is a very standard excuse every lover-boy gives. So
tell me what are the plans for coming Valentine? I tell you, the best thing you can gift
is..."
"And Onkar thats how it went with Sameer. And he must have added extra spice to this
story before narrating it to you. Tell me Onkar, she said she should be like a sister
to me. But I can't call her a sister.You know, what my didi means to me. Its altogether
different. Until some lady means to me like what what my didi is, I can't call her a sister.
Its not a trifle thing for me to call a lady my sister. One has to live up to those words.
But does that mean she is my girlfriend, like Sameer says? She is a good girl, but definitely she can't be my girlfriend. She is not someone whom I may like. Can't we be just friends?"
"If you have convinced yourself Ninad, then why not?"
"OK, convincing myself is one thing. But if Sameer, our close friend says something like
that, what may society talk like? I was just thinking Onkar... I tried to analyse... The
mindset of society takes generations to develop. You know, I couldn't remember a single
legend or story in mythology in which a young guy and a young girl are just friends. When
it comes to friends, its either only girls or only guys. The only way a guy and a girl of same age are related is through love which is either marital or non-marital. OK, the mythology is old stuff. The mindset of the society does change. But have a look around, do you recollect any example in modern literature, which we studied in our schools or junior collges, showing friendship between a guy and a girl even somewhere near to the guys-only or girls-only friendship? Are there even a handful number of movies showing this? After thinking all this, I am really confused.
You tell me Onkar,
Is it that a relation between a young guy and a young girl should always be declared to the society as either brother-sister relation or a relation of love? Can't they just be friends, nothing more than thator nothing less than that?
Do you have an answer?"
Do you have an answer?
"Wait a minute. When his majesty wants to be back home?"
"8 o'clock. As usual I'll be late by an hour ! And if you start talking now,
it will be one and half hours.. Hehe.."
Ninad and I grabbed places at a table at Coffee Corner, our usual place for
philosophical discussions. These philosophical discussions are very useful
in the sense that they are ideal for passing all the extra time you have got
by postponing all the assignments to the last day before deadline. On top of
that, though these discussions are completely useless in a certain way, you
don't exactly feel like you have wasted your time.
"Two coffee please. And there is no hurry. Take your own time!"
"Ninad, isn't Sameer coming here?"
"No, as usual some stupid reason. He knows that I know thats a lie. Still
we observe that gentleman-like courtesy of not calling a spade a spade."
"So what has our Mr. Philosopher got to tell me?"
"Today in college, the last lecture was Economics. That professor has the knack
of making it sound the most boring lecture in the world. So I decided to bunk
it and and went to bus-stop. There I saw Priya standing in the queue. And then.."
"Oh is that the lady love in your life? Isn't she a junior of yours?
Cool Ninad ! Sameer told me all about that !! Is she too a Ms. Philosopher?"
"Onkar, I simply hate this habit of yours of interrupting almost every sentence
that I speak !"
"What a coincidence ! I too hate this habit of mine ! Great minds think alike !..
Ok ok, sorry boss. Proceed, Mr. Socrates."
"So Priya and I got into the bus. Thankfully there were empty seats. And after maybe
ten minutes of time she realised that she had forgotten to buy a book for F.A.- Financial
Accounting- of which tomorrow she has to submit an assignment."
"OK Priya, no big deal. No need to go back. You can simply drop in to my home at
about 5 o'clock and collect the book as well as the notes if you want."
"Yeah thats good. Thank god I met you here or else I would have had to go back all
the way in this scorching heat. Yeah, I'll surely drop in by 5 o'clock."
"And yes, I forgot to ask you one thing. You remember, last week you were not
picking your cell so I had to call on your landline number?"
"Yeah, by mistake I had kept the phone on silent mode even after I returned from
college. Why? What happened?"
"The weird thing was that before passing on the call to you, your dad conducted a police
enquiry of me. Whats my full name? What do I do? Where do I stay? Whats my dad's
occupation... Didn't he tell you about that?"
"Nooo and after hanging up your call, you know what, he asked me all these things
he had asked you ! Oh my gawd, my dad is reaaaally orthodox to the core. But I clarified
everything at the end by saying that I see you like my brother.."
"What? Come on! you are not my sister. We are just friends. And thats all. Nothing
more than that, nothing less than that."
"Whats the big deal? Come on, if you are not boyfriend to a girl, you are just like
a brother to her.. Isn't it?"
"Onkar, don't give me that mischievous smile. Let me finish what I want to say and
that too without you making faces. Or else tomorrow's newspaper will have a front
page news - Tortured youth strangles his friend with bare hands ! Ok, what was I telling?
Oh yes.. then after this she got a phone call and we left this topic there itself.
When I got down at the bus-stop, Sameer was buying some stuff in the general stores
in front of the bus stop..."
"Oh Ninad, so sorry. Because you saw me, you didn't get down with her. Extremely
sorry man, I made you miss some of the precious moments of your life. Hey Bhagwan,
agar aapko mujhpe aur meri sachchaai pe jarasaa bhi yakeen hai.."
"Dammmiitt, stop yaar. Come on there is nothing like that. She gets down at the next
stop..."
"But she could have got down here too. Pyar parbat bhi hilaa sakta hai! Aur agar tere
pyaar me jaraasi bhi taakat hai toh..."
"Goddamn you, Sameer. Stop those filmi dialogues. And I told you, she is not my
girlfriend ! We are..."
"Oh, so is she your sister then? Did she tie a Rakhi to you this Rakshabandhan? Tell
me, what has..."
"Look here Sameer, she is neither my girlfriend, nor is my sister. We are just friends."
"Oh don't give me this crap. This is a very standard excuse every lover-boy gives. So
tell me what are the plans for coming Valentine? I tell you, the best thing you can gift
is..."
"And Onkar thats how it went with Sameer. And he must have added extra spice to this
story before narrating it to you. Tell me Onkar, she said she should be like a sister
to me. But I can't call her a sister.You know, what my didi means to me. Its altogether
different. Until some lady means to me like what what my didi is, I can't call her a sister.
Its not a trifle thing for me to call a lady my sister. One has to live up to those words.
But does that mean she is my girlfriend, like Sameer says? She is a good girl, but definitely she can't be my girlfriend. She is not someone whom I may like. Can't we be just friends?"
"If you have convinced yourself Ninad, then why not?"
"OK, convincing myself is one thing. But if Sameer, our close friend says something like
that, what may society talk like? I was just thinking Onkar... I tried to analyse... The
mindset of society takes generations to develop. You know, I couldn't remember a single
legend or story in mythology in which a young guy and a young girl are just friends. When
it comes to friends, its either only girls or only guys. The only way a guy and a girl of same age are related is through love which is either marital or non-marital. OK, the mythology is old stuff. The mindset of the society does change. But have a look around, do you recollect any example in modern literature, which we studied in our schools or junior collges, showing friendship between a guy and a girl even somewhere near to the guys-only or girls-only friendship? Are there even a handful number of movies showing this? After thinking all this, I am really confused.
You tell me Onkar,
Is it that a relation between a young guy and a young girl should always be declared to the society as either brother-sister relation or a relation of love? Can't they just be friends, nothing more than thator nothing less than that?
Do you have an answer?"
Do you have an answer?
Monday, February 11, 2008
He does not understand
He went inside a home in a locality looking like a slum, along with about ten of his friends. It was home of one of his friends. They occupied the chairs and sofa in the hall. After some introductory chat, his friend's mother went to the kitchen. When she came out, she and her daughter were carrying trays containing plates of sweets and glasses of juice, one each for all the people present. He was sitting at the end. When it came to him, there were more than four glasses and plates. His friend's mother asked him, "Is it ok for you to eat here among us?"
He picked a plate of sweets and a glass of juice. But he did not understand the question.
He was returning from the school along with one of his classmates. He was being teased by him right from their exit from the school. They were walking for about fifteen minutes. Being a shy boy, it was becoming difficult for him to bear the onslaught of teasing taunts which referred to a girl. Finally he screamed at his friend. His friend exclaimed, "No wonder you are a cry-baby. After all you are son of a Brahmin family".
He became more angry and spoke in a wild manner. But he had not understood the remark.
It was one of those chaotic recesses in his junior college. They all gathered together and opened their tiffins. Being a group, they used to eat their tiffins together. He opened his tiffin. It was one of his favorite dishes. Two plain Omelettes and bread. Looking at his tiffin, one of his friends blurted out, "Hey you eat eggs ! You are not a pure Brahmin. I do not eat any such stuff. I am a pure Brahmin, unlike you."
He was not a kid not to understand the remark. But he did not understand what was meant by purity in this case.
He was attending a social function. It was buffet time. There was a long queue. He got bored. The queue was looking like a never ending one as more and more people were accommodating themselves in the queue if they found someone they knew. Irritated, he remarked about it to the person standing in front of him. The ball of conversation started rolling about. It was turning out to be a pleasant exchange. The person asked him his name. He told his name. The person asked him his full name. He told his full name. The person remarked, "Oh, so you are one of us!"
He just waited for his turn for food.
He was meeting a senior from his undergrad college. Academically she was two years senior but agewise the distance was about three years . They were good friends. In the flow of conversation she happened to mention that her parents were looking out for a groom for her. He said it was a great news and it must be funny going through all that process. She said that wasn't funny in any sense as the groom was not only required to be Brahmin but also from belonging to different gotra than hers, not to mention her other demands. She explained that people from a specific gotra are said to be descendants of the same rishi and in that case they all would be siblings. Fully aware of the concept, he tried to argue that if there are only a handful of gotras and if both the parents did belong to different gotra in all the marriages, then all the people of their caste would be siblings of each other as a child would inherit genes of the father as well as the mother. She said the gotra of a child is inherited from his father. She also added that he did not understand the concept at all or else he would not speak of it in such a manner.
He felt her remarks were true. He had not understood the concept at all.
Take care,
Onkar
He picked a plate of sweets and a glass of juice. But he did not understand the question.
He was returning from the school along with one of his classmates. He was being teased by him right from their exit from the school. They were walking for about fifteen minutes. Being a shy boy, it was becoming difficult for him to bear the onslaught of teasing taunts which referred to a girl. Finally he screamed at his friend. His friend exclaimed, "No wonder you are a cry-baby. After all you are son of a Brahmin family".
He became more angry and spoke in a wild manner. But he had not understood the remark.
It was one of those chaotic recesses in his junior college. They all gathered together and opened their tiffins. Being a group, they used to eat their tiffins together. He opened his tiffin. It was one of his favorite dishes. Two plain Omelettes and bread. Looking at his tiffin, one of his friends blurted out, "Hey you eat eggs ! You are not a pure Brahmin. I do not eat any such stuff. I am a pure Brahmin, unlike you."
He was not a kid not to understand the remark. But he did not understand what was meant by purity in this case.
He was attending a social function. It was buffet time. There was a long queue. He got bored. The queue was looking like a never ending one as more and more people were accommodating themselves in the queue if they found someone they knew. Irritated, he remarked about it to the person standing in front of him. The ball of conversation started rolling about. It was turning out to be a pleasant exchange. The person asked him his name. He told his name. The person asked him his full name. He told his full name. The person remarked, "Oh, so you are one of us!"
He just waited for his turn for food.
He was meeting a senior from his undergrad college. Academically she was two years senior but agewise the distance was about three years . They were good friends. In the flow of conversation she happened to mention that her parents were looking out for a groom for her. He said it was a great news and it must be funny going through all that process. She said that wasn't funny in any sense as the groom was not only required to be Brahmin but also from belonging to different gotra than hers, not to mention her other demands. She explained that people from a specific gotra are said to be descendants of the same rishi and in that case they all would be siblings. Fully aware of the concept, he tried to argue that if there are only a handful of gotras and if both the parents did belong to different gotra in all the marriages, then all the people of their caste would be siblings of each other as a child would inherit genes of the father as well as the mother. She said the gotra of a child is inherited from his father. She also added that he did not understand the concept at all or else he would not speak of it in such a manner.
He felt her remarks were true. He had not understood the concept at all.
Take care,
Onkar
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Pledge
I am proud of the pledge of today's India.
India is my country
All Indians are my etc. etc.
And my motto is
What do I have to do with that?
Good morning, I open my eyes
Low whispers of crowd echo in my ears
Local don chopped down his son last night
Didn't used to pay him regular hafta
I give out a big yawn
"Oh! Has he shot down my son?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I leave for office, I walk to the bus-stop
In the square en route I see his sister
A heart-broken ruffian, a bottle of acid on her face
She cries for help
Crowd and I sing in unison
"Oh! Are you my sister?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I board the bus, watch the beautiful scenery
I hear a loud crash at a traffic signal on the way
His severely wounded brother cries for help
All the passengers echo me gleefully
"Eh, are you my brother?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I reach my office, relax in my A.C. cabin
He enters staggering, says in a collapsed voice
The boss found in him another candidate of V.R.S.
Warns me tomorrow it could be your turn
I say sympathetically
"I agree but has he fired me today?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I return to my home, switch on a news channel
A beautiful smile on the face of a beautiful newswoman
There is just another a billions rupees scam
I remember his father was one of the investors
Must have lost all his provident fund
I laugh carelessly
"Has my father lost even a penny?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
My wife and I go to a five star hotel
To enjoy our money with a candle-light dinner
Wife suddenly lowers her voice
Says yesterday his wife got molested
By few friendly political activists
I bark at her
"Don't spoil the romantic mood, was it my wife?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
We enjoy the night, go to bed
Once again I recite my holiest, dearest pledge
India is my country
All Indians are my etc. etc.
And my motto is
What do I have to do with that?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wrote it in the second year of my B.E.
My English was surely weaker then than it is now.
But somehow it couldn't prevent me from scribbling down these lines.
Perhaps things are a little better or my point of view has changed.
Just thought I would post it before it completely loses its relevance because of either improvement or degradation of the situation around.
Take care,
Onkar
India is my country
All Indians are my etc. etc.
And my motto is
What do I have to do with that?
Good morning, I open my eyes
Low whispers of crowd echo in my ears
Local don chopped down his son last night
Didn't used to pay him regular hafta
I give out a big yawn
"Oh! Has he shot down my son?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I leave for office, I walk to the bus-stop
In the square en route I see his sister
A heart-broken ruffian, a bottle of acid on her face
She cries for help
Crowd and I sing in unison
"Oh! Are you my sister?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I board the bus, watch the beautiful scenery
I hear a loud crash at a traffic signal on the way
His severely wounded brother cries for help
All the passengers echo me gleefully
"Eh, are you my brother?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I reach my office, relax in my A.C. cabin
He enters staggering, says in a collapsed voice
The boss found in him another candidate of V.R.S.
Warns me tomorrow it could be your turn
I say sympathetically
"I agree but has he fired me today?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
I return to my home, switch on a news channel
A beautiful smile on the face of a beautiful newswoman
There is just another a billions rupees scam
I remember his father was one of the investors
Must have lost all his provident fund
I laugh carelessly
"Has my father lost even a penny?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
My wife and I go to a five star hotel
To enjoy our money with a candle-light dinner
Wife suddenly lowers her voice
Says yesterday his wife got molested
By few friendly political activists
I bark at her
"Don't spoil the romantic mood, was it my wife?
Then what do I have to do with that?"
We enjoy the night, go to bed
Once again I recite my holiest, dearest pledge
India is my country
All Indians are my etc. etc.
And my motto is
What do I have to do with that?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wrote it in the second year of my B.E.
My English was surely weaker then than it is now.
But somehow it couldn't prevent me from scribbling down these lines.
Perhaps things are a little better or my point of view has changed.
Just thought I would post it before it completely loses its relevance because of either improvement or degradation of the situation around.
Take care,
Onkar
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