Life: A pleasure or..

Here came the dawn,
Oh! beautiful it seemed,
with the lovely dew drops,
and the rays that peeped.
The bubbling water, and the gurgling river,
with the stars twinkling out of the sky's quiver,
The cool, calm breeze, that gave me peace,
with the lovely blossoms swinging on the trees.
I felt secured in the laps of LIFE.
Ah! Life's a pleasure, with no signs of strife.

But then came something, shaking my mind and soul,
and turned my painting sad on the whole..
A pair of sad eyes, reflecting the darkness of heart..
Looking hopelessly at me..I was really hurt..
He was in rags, with a sack on the back,
sorrows n' darkness, that was all in the sack.
I asked, if he ever liked to study.
He burst out-"Are you playing a joke on my poverty?"
"When hunger and cries-they all are around,
I have nothin to worry, but a grain and shroud!"

I couldn't utter a word you know..
I had no courage for even sympathy to show..
I felt guilty of myself, and guilty of my wealth,
Of what use was it, amidst all these sorrows I felt..
The adult childhood as if slapped me at once,
and revealed the darkness, that couldn't be lit up by a thousand suns,
The dawn to me seemed horrible as never before,
and the dew drops were now the tears ashore,
The rays made me feel afraid of light,
And I tried to hide my face out of fright,
The river had gone dry, like the joys in his heart, I was sure,
The stars had gone dimmer, and twinkled no more,
The blossoms this time were dull and dry,
For the bud that was nipped had made them shy.

I felt insecured in the laps of sorrows,
At the thought of those, who had no dawn, no morrows..
The struggle n' strife were revealed somehow,
..n life was no more..a pleasure to me now...

Lets spread some cheer ppl!!

Nothing like situation extraordinaire..just a commonplace conversation not lasting more than two minutes..but that left a feel good factor lingering behind..so much so that I am scribbling this almost two weeks later.
So I was visiting this restaurant located at a really busy hub for lunch with a friend. Needless to mention, it was weekend, so the parking had some waiting..and while we were supposed to be complaining about the crowd, and the traffic, and the weather, and the work, and the neighbors, and their maids, a petite lady in her late twenties walked towards us with smile. She was clad in a plain uniform saari, and with her bindi, and neatly braided hair, looked like any ordinary working class female. There was some cheerful aura about her...and in a truly pleasing demeanor, she asks:"Sir, aap yahan lunch karne aaye hain?[smile]"

We nodded.
"O..Rajdhani me kya[smile]?"
We smiled back.
"Sir, wo kya hai..abhi parking thodi full hai[and a short grin]..par 5 minutes..just 5 minutes me number aa jayega..waise bhi aapko lunch karna hai..5 minutes should be ok naa?[and a continuous smile] "
We couldn't obviously say no to the invitation.
"And sir, here's your parking ticket. Isko Rajdhani me dikhaiye..you'll get it refunded.[smile]"
We hand off the parking fees, and grab the ticket.
"Have a nice lunch![smile]"
And off she goes..to the next car in the queue.
And while she goes about spreading the same cheer, without showing any signs of fatigue after having stood for so long in the sun, and catering to the maddening rush, we realize that she just did a magic trick, and we were talking about her while smiling all the way instead of complaining about the world around..
She had no reason to treat strangers like us that nicely..and yet she did it..
And I should have thanked her for doing this then and there..but somehow I din't.
So here, this blog's a testimony to the parking lady, and everyone like her, who do their jobs with a smile, and are the real life cheerleaders!
And while I sign off, let's make this world a better place to live in.
S.M.I.L.E ppl!!

Footprints...

I am sure it happens to everyone.

People touch your life with their presence, then become an integral part of your joys and sorrows, and then in a whiff, go away. It is ironical...when you are with them, the mere thought of parting causes an ache in the heart, but when it actually happens, you tend to move on with your lives, that makes you feel…was that all? All those times we laughed together…and cried, all those days when we would spend hours talking...and those when we never knew, what to talk...beautiful memories…and darkest fears...all get packed in some remote corner of your memories...only to be opened in one quiet moment like this today..

It happened to me at school...parting with friends...and it happened again at college…I don't know what happened to so many of my friends...no idea what they are doing and how they are doing...no idea what they look like…and no idea if I'll ever meet them to tell, "Hey, I care."

And in such solitary moments, when you start turning back the pages of life, it’s not just people you recognize as friends, but many other unnamed relations, which cross your thoughts…this post today is a recollection of some of those people, and the footprints they left behind…

The earliest memories that beckon me are of “Maan ji”- a frail old widow, always dressed in 5 yards of humble white cotton, a wry, toothless face showing the signs of all pains that life had inflicted on her, and a pair of gentle, pale eyes with a hint of pearly grey, that would shower us with all the blessings known to mankind!
And oh! The important part - she wore beautiful and really heavy anklets, which made her vulnerable to all sort of greedy eyes.
We had no ties of blood with her…but from the times I recall, I had always seen her coming to our home very often, almost on a daily basis…she would nurse us as kids, and we would treat her as a granny…her family had taken all her property, and abandoned the poor soul…and for all the love and care she found in our family, she would keep on blessing us endlessly…”Neesa” is what she would call me…I have seen you aging maan-ji, and then going to a state of complete loneliness…you couldn’t walk then, and stayed in a small, very small, damp, shanty abode, and I would often have to accompany my mom, despite all the nagging, to your place to give you food…I still recall your last days, when you would want to say so many things, but your body won’t let you…you would want to talk to someone…anyone, but I would not have the patience to listen…or the care to stay…I was wrong Maan-ji…I shouldn’t have been so mean to run away, when you once held my hand tight, and wanted me to sit and talk…but then..I was a kid, wasn’t I? I wasn’t sad, when you died, and no one else was, but if I look back now, I wonder at how you were able to retain all your sweet goodness, despite life being so bitter to you…

Move on…and I can see “Chote maharaj” standing with his calm smile, gleaming with a divine halo, which I am too ignorant to write about…we had just moved in into a new neighborhood, a place surrounded by what people call “The Ashram”- a holy abode of some saints of Naath sampradaya – a sect that worships Lord Shiva. I was in class 8, when we started visiting the Ashram on a daily basis…come teatime, and we would rush for our daily prayers, and Prasad, along with the assignments Chote Maharaj had given us to finish…he was the one who inspired me to write…write about a wide variety of topics, and before writing, do all sort of research possible…we did not have internet those days, so research wasn’t that accessible, and I remember digging into all sorts of old newspapers and magazines to find out information that was relevant…those essays, and later poems helped me form some strong, fundamental ideas about good and bad, developed the traits of reasoning, and debate, besides helping me strengthen the way I express myself…you constantly inspired me to do better, to grow as a human…time went on passing by…as I grew busy with studies, my trips to Ashram changed from daily to weekly to monthly…and now it’s been years… today I have no idea where you are Chote Maharaj, but somewhere deep inside, a part of me will always owe so much to you!

They say that life is the biggest teacher. For me, life came in the form of “Neelu maa’m”-my English teacher back in the high school days…you arrived when I just needed you the most…and you instilled in me the confidence to conquer all that I wanted…and then you left…no idea…to where…but I hope to meet you someday maa’m, and want to hear it from you, that I make you feel good about being a teacher…the world is too small…and I am sure someday, our roads will cross again…I have no idea, how to find you…but somewhere deep, I’ll always respect you…and love you!

Lots of thoughts drifting in my mind…and a lot many footprints still need to be dug up…and cherished… 26 years after all is a long time!

Some part of me still wants to hold those past memories together...cocooned, and take them along to the future...and keep their warmth alive...

Here's a toast to all those old memories.
Cheers!

Loss of innocence

I was touched. Again.
I cried. Again.
The sheer realization that I am living in a world where being innocent, and genuinely caring for others leads you nowhere just hit me..was watching "Dasvidaniyaan" again tonight, and was truly relishing the child like innocence of Vinay Pathak...he zealously grabbing a handful of 'imli' candies in the flight for his childhood buddy..and then telliing the airhostess--"Mere dost ko bahut pasand hain!!"...and then landing at his place..feeling dil-se happy that he has prospered..and then being turned down disdainfully by the snobbish, so-called self proclaimed sophisticates...because they think..nobody would travel half way round the world..just to meet an ol' pal!
Not that I was watching this for the first time, but the whole idea of how majority of this world thinks and works has me in tears today..and I need to look inside..shield myself from being THEM...but am scared..scared even to look inside..coz I might realize, that I am already one of them!! Yes..I am not the same person, I used to be..and I am feeling miserable about it..few yaers back, I was much more thoughtful..much more caring..and I could empathize more with people..
I still recall..I couldn't sleep the whole night on the day Gujarat was hit by that ghastly earthquake..we were having food when the news broke..800 people die..for a minute, I was numb...and when my senses came back...I could hear my family talking about it...post dinner everybody was back to their own lives..as if nothing had happened...and as if it was just another piece of news..were 800 lives just a nothing..why were they not feeling sad about it..how could they be so ok, when so many people have lost their near ones..More than the death toll, what worried me that night was the lack of empathy in my fellow beings..the fact that it didn't matter to them mattered to me..
Huh..that was then..and now?
I believe, I have become more selfish. In other words, I have grown up.
I do not send out hand made cards with personalized poems written on them to friends any more..I do not think months before mumma-papa's anniversary gift..I do not arrange surprise B'day parties for my flat mates...and do not play any pranks with pals...what's wrong with me?
My emotions have dried up..and oh..have I started thinking twice before passing a smile to people..on the surface, it might feel, that my life is more stable than before..things are under control..am doing reasonably ok in my career..but inside...is there a hollow somewhere..a feeling that I don't belong here..and that I need to preserve whatever little is left of my own self..or else..this loss of innocence and warmth would leave me dead...
No. I want to be alive. Again.

Color coded!!

They say..a picture is worth thousand words..so here are two thousand from me:)

Yes..m playing with C.O.L.O.R.S these days..and thoroughly enjoying!

Experiencing SOS..

"Akka, please come to my home na..pleeeeeeease, pleeeeeease!!", and before I could say something, a tiny hand grips mine tightly, and we start running across the green field with a bunch of others towards the HOME. The warmth is infectious, and the invitation a genuine one, straight from the heart, and I just keep following them to their respective HOMES. They take me in, and their mother welcomes me open-heartedly. A neatly arranged house...nothing fancy..two simple wooden sofas with clean, cotton upholstery and nicely arranged cushions, right in front of the entrance, a dining table towards the left, and a painting of Jesus on the right wall..little further inside, you find a beautifully illuminated temple area, with lots of deities, and something in the air just makes you want to join hands and say a little prayer. My fellow companions introduce me to their family excitedly, and then show me around the house.."Akka, this is my bed..and this is our cupboard for school uniforms..Akka, this one belongs to Prasanna",and he opens it quickly.. "Haw..you keep your cupboard so messed up Prasanna!!", bang comes the comment from him, as if he was already prepared to say this. I can' help but smiling at their banter. He's still holding my finger..and showing me his bedroom...a dorm like setting..neat and simple..meanwhile, his siblings have also joined us and I am showered with questions.."Akka...when will you come back?"..and questioning eyes..I don't want to disappoint them, but then I don't want to give them any false indications just to keep their heart..so I try moving on to the next question..but I can't. He insists, "Akka..please come naa"..and a toothless smile..God..he knows the tactics so well..An invitaion with such a beautiful smile is not easy to turn down..I tell him.."I'll come back soon", and give him an assured look.

Tring tring..my cell rings..and its Deepali at the other end. "Hey Nimisha! Hurry up! We got to leave!"..I don't feel like leaving..and don't feel like believing that the day is just over..I give him a hug, say good bye to the rest and rush to catch the bus..cheerfully waving good bye to others I met on the way to the bus.

And the day is indeed over..but what a truly amazing day it was! It all started at 10 in the morning at the SOS campus, where we picked up the kids and their mothers and started off for Birla Planetarium and Science Museum. We were few folks from office, and we divided the kids, around 95 in number into 8 groups. Each of us led a group of kids for the day, and they were our responsibility today! I quickly got to know the names of many, though they found my name a bit confusing..nimisha, manisha..whatever..and who cares..they could just call me "Akka". My group was a bunch of second class kids..4 girls and 4 guys, all full of energy..truly excited for their outing.No..not all..most of them..I found one of the girls really shy, and not getting along with most of the other kids initially..but later she was alright. Anyways, we decided to call our team "Jhinga la la", and our team cheer turned out to be "Jhinga la la..hoo ha!"..no surprises here.

As our fully loaded bus jostled its way through the dusty roads, I realized I was packed with these bundles of energy. We started shouting our team cheer in high spirits..we were the first team to come up with this, and hence had already made headway here..soon Tarun's Dons pitched in..5th graders..and smart ones..their pitches easily made ours go psssssssst! On the way...we played Antakshari..of course I was just a spectator..I know nothing of Telugu music..and we talked about Chiranjeevi, and Anushka, and Charmee, and Gopichand..and a bunch of other actors I can't recall..we discussed what they want to be when they grow up...and their ambitions are as varying as they are..Priyanka wants to be a software engineer(should I show her the reality of our lives..lols), Adisheshu wants to go to the army..and Vaishnavi wants to do painting..and Meera.she just wants to help others! Nothing different so far..kids are kids anywhere..and that's the best thing about them. Unlike grown ups, they don't judge you..they don't care who you are, what you do, how you look, and how you speak..all this reminds me of the song:

I don't care who you are,

where you're from,

what you do,

as long as you love me.....

Just love them..and you'll get it back.

Back on track..the bus was full to capacity, and I found place on a pedestal..I had no qualms sitting there, and was sitting perfectly okay when a pair of hands rested on my shoulders. I looked up, and behold! All the kids had squeezed themselves to make space for me..they asked me to sit there..and the chaalu that I am..I took the promise, that they are not gonna fight, if they want me to sit with them..win win situation for me! And to nobody's wonder, I found myself squeezed between them in a minute.

We reach the venue..and its already lunch time..all of us sit down in the gardens in respective groups, and the kids open the lunch boxes they've brought with them. They wash their hands, spread out a clean napkin and keep their lunch boxes on it. A variety of smells..pulihora, sambar rice, lemon rice, cauliflower and chapati enter my nostrils..and then they realize that I am not carrying a tiffin unlike them. So they all share their lunch with me..and i felt so nice about it..I mean it doesn't happen with you everyday that you share food with someone..especially since I have joined this corporate world.

Food was over, and we lined up for the planetarium visit..and I was bombarded with questions..half of which I could not even understand..wish I knew some Telugu! They were amazed by the stars..the vastness of the universe..and particularly liked the constellations. I could hear their "wows and whys" all through the show.

Once the show was over, and we headed off to the science museum. The concepts of science like friction, optics, energy, etc. were obviously alien to the 2nd graders, and it was too much to expect that they would understand them. So I just let them be..they loved the equipment..pedals..and cycles to convert mechanical energy to heat..a ball that kept hanging in the air because of air blowing out..some swings to understand pulleys..mirrors and lenses for optics..concepts that even I found long forgotten. We saw the dianosaurs' remains and soon it was time to wrap up. The kids were tired by now..and we assembled together for a small address by Major Raju, who was managing the center. Soon we were back on our way HOME. Most of the kids slept on the way..and the bus was quiet this time. On reaching back, we assembled in a hall, and the children seemed just getting out of control, as they found themselves in familiar surroundings. The brief sleep had probably replenished their energies, and it was all showing up well. And then suddenly..someone switched on the TV..to our utter consternation..all noise stopped immediately, and all eyes set towards the telivision set! This is the trick that they use to calm them down. After five minutes the TV was switched off. The manager of SOS said words of thanks to all of us..the kids handed over some greeting cards to us that said "Thank You", and the manager insisted that each kid should thank us from the bottom of their hearts for what we did today. I found this a little too much..as to why the kids should be so over-thankful..I mean..please just let them be like any other kids..why do we need to make them feel they are different..

While we were still assembled in the hall..one of the girls wanted to dress my hair..she pulled out my band..combed my hair with her tiny fingers..made a tight pony tail..and gave an approving smile..as if everything was okay now..need not mention..I was touched by the familiarity of this unknown girl...The last time when somebody did this to me was at the hostel I guess..and its been years now.

One of the girls looked at the greeting I had received, she was disappointed when she couldn't see my name on it. Then she decided to fix this. She borrowed a marker..then diligently copied the spelling of my name from my ID to the card..and handed it back..not to mention..with a smile again..God..did they have the slightest idea..they have made the day for so many people!

A few camera clicks happened after that, and the kids started scattering..

I also started tying the laces of my shoes..thinking it was a well spent day..and then..suddenly a hand gripped mine and said, "Akka, please come to my home na..pleeeeeeease, pleeeeeease!!"

A well spent day indeed!

[For the uninitiated, SOS Villages are homes for children. It would be unfair to call them orphangaes, as each child has a mother to take care, and a house to live in. He/she shares it with other kids, and all of them live as siblings. So these kids are no more orphans..they have a HOME to live in!]

:):):)

I am happy..don't ask me why..coz I myself dunno! Feels like there's some hidden joy waiting to burst out in this silent corner of my house..and all of a sudden, I realize that the key to my happiness is in my very own hands..I am sitting all alone in my house with nobody to share the Diwali sweets here in this remote place called Hyderabad..This is my first Diwali ever, away from home..and my mum's voice kinda chokes on phone while thinking of me. But I am surprised, at my own potential to keep myself brimming with this divine calmness..and it feels great by all measures.Its nice to be in your own control..especially for a girl, who's so damn emotional about things.
After a long while, I am happy for my own self, for the fact that I exist, for the truth, that I add value to my own life, if nobody else's. Something inside me wants to fly, and reach out to new dreams, spray fresh colors on some canvas..sounds good, especially when I just thought, Jindagi boring ho chali hai! Sorry, but I was wrong, there's still so much more to do, to learn, to create..life's just too short.
So got to hurry up..and sign off.
And yeah.."Happy Diwali"..Hope Life's a celebration for all...Amen!

Saturday Mornings

"Good Morning Teacher!!"

A bunch of kids greeting me in their chorus sing song, and all standing in unison, and that's what Saturday morning brings for me.They are just like the other kids you've come across..some smiling, some shying away from your inquisitive glances, some wanting to come closer and have a tete-a-tete, and then some Einstiens's lost in their own dream world..sounds like just another primary school class setup, right..but may be not.Unlike you and me, they are the kids of those slum dwelling construction workers, who keep changing places because of their changing jobs. As a result, their kids can't have a formal education, and are deprived of this very basic need.

But not always, if you have a SMILE school around:)

SMILE schools are an initiative of Samyukta Foundation, which cater to the educational needs of such children.These schools have permanent faculty, that teaches children six days a week.

And we, a couple of folks, go to these schools every Saturday morning to see, how the children are progressing, and track individual children of their progress.Some of the brighter folks make it to permanent schools as well, and believe me, the sense of introducing a child to the world of knowledge is so fulfilling.

I started doing this only a couple of weeks back, and it wasn't an easy thing for me initially to get out of my bed at 9 on a Saturday morning, when you would instead like to loll cosily, after a hectic week at office, and when you got to sleep only at 2 on the Friday night. Believe me, for the first time, I had to use all my will power to do so..and then there was the dreaded language issue..the kids don't understand Hindi or English, and I have no doubts on my Telugu proficiency.

So I thought, I might not continue this for long...but dunno what kept me motivated, and I am glad, it did:)

I look forward to Saturday mornings now, waiting to be greeted by those smiles. These kids are from a different background. They look different, and some of them don't even take a bath regularly..Most of the time, its rags that make up for their school uniform, and some of them have slates in one hand, and a younger sibling's finger in another. Yet they are as innocent as any other kid..and the pleasant fact is that they love to learn..in fact, more so than their privileged counterparts..probably because when you don't get something easily, you learn to appreciate it more. A shack for a school, with no electricity, and these kids learn there..all motivated, all set to work.

They introduce you to a different world..a world of needs, worries, and uncertainties..and also to a world of hope..one where they would some day be fulfilling others's needs..and one where they would stand up for themselves.

I go there, teach them all using gestures, chalks, and slates,.. and bring back a few smiles in return...and all the effort is worth it!!

Smile Please!!

After a looong time, its time to do nothing:)..I am OOF(Out of office) for NINE whole days..wohoooo!!
Nine days of doing Nothin...eating..lolling happily in the bed...freaking out..and chilling!
And when I say chilling..need to mention my trip to snow world yesterday..Priya's here at Hyderabad, so early in the morning yesterday(that was at 1 p.m.), madam demanded that we visit the famous Snow world..and we set off!
After a gruelling time between the Hyd traffic, we managed to reach the place, shelled out some 600 odd bucks for tickets, and after all the wait in the queue, we found the whole setup utterly disgusting...there was no snow, and the place was not at all maintained...I was kinda feeling cheated for all the effort, time and money.
But then, something happened that made my day..and I am still smiling thinking about it.
The snow world shows are hourly, and they batch people for each show. Apart from us, our batch comprised mostly of couples aged 65-70, and they were a big group. It was sheer joy to see them enjoying the whole thing with a child like hullabaloo, trodding in their long jackets, gloves, and snow boots. They were playing merrily like a bunch of kids just released from school..jumping, enjoying rides, and even snow boarding!!
And while I and Priya were figuring out what next, I suddenly heard a really cute "Smile Please!"..Curious, I turned around...and there was a pair of toothless smiles awaiting!!
One of the elderly couples was posing for photographs, and an old 'daddu' was trying to set the right pose for them.."uh..aise nahi, haath pakdo, aur thoda sa Smile Please": I heard him say.

They smiled.
I smiled too!

Reviving the lost freedom!

I woke up to the sounds of "Jhanda Ooncha Rahe Hamara" today morning from the nearby school..and in a flash..all of the memories of this special day that I have nurtured since childhood came alive...and then I was wondering..how my definition of "FREEDOM" has changed over time.
Long back, at kindergarten, "FREEDOM" was something to be celebrated by drawing a tricolor using pastels, and taking it to school, all dressed up for the parade, early in the morning. Of course, I am not forgetting the boondi laddoos, we used to get in return, after listening to hours of patriotic speeches, and songs.
Then came the next stage, when the idea of INDEPENDENCE day started meaning a Holiday. I remember celebrating many such independence days with family, and friends all going to a picninc spot. Of course, the patriotic songs now got replaced with Antakshari, and tambola games.
Growing up further, all my NCERT books taught me the freedom struggle, and the sacrifices people made to make India a free country. Henceforth, I would remember those freedom fighters in great awe, and thank God, that the Britishers have left.
Then there came a time at high school, when I wrote speeches to mark this day. .and then practised for hours in front of the mirror, making sure, I do not mess up, on the D-day. I still remember my trembling feet, when I gave my first Independence Day speech in front of an entire school..my nerves shaking, and my hands wet with sweat, even in the month of August.
By now, I had started appreciating this day, and its significance in the life of Indians..and to me, it meant an occasion that NEEDS to be celebrated...But then my little heart was shattered as I started realising, that in essence to most people, this day does not mean more than a public holiday, a dry day, and a day to savour free laddoos, or a day to make some money by selling tricolors at traffic signals, and that most people even don't realise that this is a special day..Believe me, I was in tears, when I realised the apathy of people towards this day for the first time..even wrote a poem pouring all that I felt on paper..I was probably too shielded from the real world problems to understand that you can't celebrate freedom, when you have needs like food and clothing to worry about..and when you don't know, when you'll be having your next meal, and when you have a leaking roof that needs to be catered more importantly, than celebrating freedom...So freedom loses all meaning without the basic needs being addressed.

We were not a free country in my eyes now.

As time passed by, I found myself guilty of losing my childhood perspective on this subject, and was facing the obvious consequences of growing up, and getting more individualistic at the same time.
For me, 'MY' freedom was precious..freedom to do what I want to do in Life, freedom to skip prayers at home, freedom to go to movies at will...But there was a growing anguish inside...when I started learning, that I can't do all that I want..and that I am bound by the family, and society at large to make sure, my actions do not break their medieval aged rituals, and their hard set of unshakable rules which never made any sense to me...

Neither India was free, nor I was.

And then it was the last weekend I finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. Set in the backdrop of Afghanistan, the novel is a devastating tale of two women who endure the unendurable at each and every step in their lives..You start reading the book, and a lump starts growing in your throat..and just when you start thinking..nothing worse can happen..you are thrown into the next piece of wreckage.Even the basic human rights were denied to these women under the Taliban regime.The atrocities that they tolerated during that time are enough to make your hair raised at ends..
Turning every fresh page made me realize how much more FREE I am..how much more blessed I am..and the almost dead, hopeless freedom suddenly got resurrected with a new, fresh face.
Happy Independence Day!!

What is love?

Well..this one's an excerpt from the internet..a survey was conducted on what love meant to kids ..and the replies were more profound, and close to heart than what we grown ups can think...couldn't resist posting it here:)

See what you think:

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when hands got arthritis too. That's love"

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on cologne and they go out and smell each other"

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of French fries without making them give you any of theirs."

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired"

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK"

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday"

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well"

"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore"

"My mommy loves me more than anybody.You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night"

"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken"

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and says he is handsomer than Robert Redford"

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day"

"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones"

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." (what an imagination!!!)

Amazing..eh!! So what's your definition of love??

Seven things I can't stand

1. The mention of my marriage to my mummy by my mummy's aunt's chacha's bahu's friend. I mean boss..mind your own lives..your nose ends where mine begins.
2. Women bitching about their in-laws(Well that's the most common breed)..or anybody else for that matter.
3. Lizards..eeeeexx!!
4. Kids acting too grown up for their age.
5. Saas bahu serials.
6. Intrusion in my space..its sacred to me.
7. Bugs in my code!!!

Rant time

God!! I have been off blogging for such a loooooooooong time..in fact I have been off so many things I love to do for weeks now:(
Huh..this software industry does strange things to people...and to sum up..life gets constrained within a few coffee sips from the pantry...bundled up with those outlook calendars...and oh..not to mention the deadlines hanging with them...and on top of giving your life and blood to it, you end up being a "RESOURCE"..Oh how I hate that term..kinda lends me a non-living character..and to worsen it all..suddenly everybody starts talking about your marriage..Damn!!!
Seems only one of them can survive at a given time..either the project..or my hypothetical projected marriage that happens every time I plan to go home...
Now, now..i know I am cribbing..its not that bad after all..with all "so fat pay packets to flaunt"..so what if you don't have the time and energy to spend it after slogging your guts out for an eternity...
Wait..cribbing again!
Let me start afresh..am I doing this job for money..or do I really like it?
I guess the answer is "Both". Yes there's this financial independence which I won't give up at any cost, but then every piece of code that runs gives me this sense of achievement..and to be honest..as long as I am sitting in front of my comp coding..its just plain fun..every bit of it.
The only issue I see here is that too much of any thing can be obnoxious..and that includes code.
Guess..I am not working this weekend..not logging into my dev machine at office anymore...no more of .NET and Sharepoint going in my head..and that's a promise to myself...but oh..I just got some mail..Be Right back!!

Mis-adventures of Kodeez 1.0-Part2

In the previous post, I just scratched the surface of what all happened during our Ooty trip..
N here's an add-on by Pallo, read on:

"But no , as if that was not enough , amid passing thoughts of getting back to Bangalore from nowhere, we half-heartedly decided to go to Ooty which was some 150 km (4hr) from that place( I dunno the name).
We took a local bus to Ooty that jostled us all through the way amid scenic beauty.
Upon reaching we were all charged as though all that misadventure of the night gone by had never happened.
Not that Ooty was not great, but we are dare devils of the kind that if together even in hell, would say “chal yar Yamraj ke maze lete hain” …

Our tryst with destiny (pronounced dhesstinyyy) did not stop here. During the motorboat ride in Pykara Lake the boat came to a grueling halt in the middle of it.. our songs (mile sur mera tumhara) soon changed to Hanuman Chalisa to bring us back to the shore... At least it did not develop a snag after refueling… (as our TT did)

The train from Connoor to Ooty also deserves a mention… we had a local rustic experience right between us (quite literally) the culprit again was a TT ;-) We could not catch a glimpse of each other, let alone have a dekko at the tunnels n waterfalls the train passes through.

Later the auto rickshaw I was in, displayed hiccups but somehow managed till the bus station.

No, alls not well yet… we boarded the bus to Bangalore …settled our huge luggage …found that was a wrong one … moved to another amid commotion.
That bus ride … Omigod ….we were so be-bus inside it….had we not held tightly to our seats , there were chances we were found off them / exchanged places with others …

This trip seemed to have been testing us on our commuting skills…"

One night @ a petrol pump!

What would you say, when 13 super-excited dare devils step out of their routine lives for three counted days, ready to explore new grounds of Munnar, and tackle new challenges, with spirits soaring high, and they get trapped at a petrol pump for an entire night, just at the very onset?Reason: Their much beloved tempo-traveller(TT) broke down at 1 in the morning at a secluded petrol pump, with no water(leave apart chai-thanda).
What would you do, if you were in their place? Curse the TT and its owner to your heart's content..and then frustrated..try to go to sleep? Damn..what a waste!!
Am amazed the way we made the most of the opportunity. After all, this was the place with no damned net connectivity..away from all emails, and deadlines, and we were the only souls in an area of a few kilometers..Wow!! We started off by trying to fix the hose pipe that had broken down..soap..wax..nothin did the trick though. 1 hour..2 hours..3 hours..nothing was appearing to go right..Arnab( D Makkadman henceforth) and Som had already tasted the divine waters of the leaking TT..n rest of us just enjoying the drama and action with music from the humming mosquitoes :D Few hours gone, and nothing happening, mehfil jama daali hum logon ne wahin pe..stepped up onto the TT, and sang all goddamn songs that I never knew..from "Mile sur mera tumhara" to "Chandrakanta ki kahani" to "ooooooooooooooooon huzzoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooor"..n it was so much fun..a dark star studded sky for a roof, and a TT for a home, pals for the family, and the warmth of our besuraa music to make up for the chilled air...and life was set amidst the plush green coconut trees..what more could you ask for!!
Don't recall, when we slept tight under the sky..but that one hour of sleep was again divine..the rays of the rising sun woke us up..and a second TT arrived. Super charged, we all hit the road instantaneously. But the story doesn't end here.
For the curious ones, our second TT broke down an hour after we started :D

Children of Heaven-Part II

There are those days, when you feel absolutely disgusted by all the right and wrong things going around you, and you crave for an escape from eveything, just searching for some solitude..gripped by the annui of a routine life, stagnant relations, pressing deadlines, and the burden of your aimless ambitions..and one such evening, I was just strolling the road to the historical south Indian temple in the vicinity, thinking all that I needed to tell dear "Rab ji"...and as if HE knew it all, something happened on the way, that just made me feel lighter by tonnes.

There was this bunch of kids by the roadside(yep, the same ones in tattered clothes, which lot of us loath, and detest touching), watching me curiously, as if I was an extra-terrestrial who just landed into their country. I tried to avoid this constant attention I was getting for a while, but then something from inside told me to pass on a smile(and trust me, it was a genuine one)to them..And believe it or not, the kids were so over-joyed as if I made their day..one smile from me..and I got so many in return..they followed me for some distance, waving and laughing merrily all the way..and I couldn't stop myself from joining them, leaving all cares in world beyond, and just living that blissful moment.

I did not go to the temple then..HE was there in the smiles of those kids.

Children of heaven

Am not a movie buff..not even a dash of it..but this one just refuses to get outta my mind..After a long while, I could feel a tear trickling down, not for my own self, but for the shimmer of hope I saw in the eyes of Zahra and Ali.

One of its kind, I would recommend everyone to watch Children of Heaven, an Oscar nominated Iranian movie by Majid Majidi. Its a simple yet heart-touching tale of two siblings, Ali and Zahra. Ali takes the only shoe of Zahra for repairing, and unfortunately loses it on the way back home. The entire movie is woven around the struggle to find a pair of shoes for little Zahra, so that she can go to school. Stunningly simple yet absorbing treatment of the emotions of the two lil ones keeps you hooked till the end, and wanting for more!!

While Ali tries to find a pair of shoes for Zahra, the two are aware that their poor Dad is not in a position to buy one. So they refrain from telling him, and manage with the only pair of torn sneakers that Ali has. Every day, Zahra goes to school in the first shift, and then comes back running all the way, so that Ali can wear them in the second shift. (Suddenly, I have started realising how blessed I am!) This becomes a daily phenomenon-a race against all odds. A pair of shoes, and that becomes the centre of universe for the duo. A race is announced for school kids, where the third prize is a pair of sneakers. Ali tells Zahra about it, and also promises that he'll come third, come what may. The twinkle in Zahra's eyes at the thought of getting a pair of shoes is something you can't afford to overlook. The race happens and despite his best efforts, Ali comes first. Suddenly he's a star and everybody including his principal get themselves photographed with him. Everybody is elated, but for him. Fame, prizes, photographs mean nothing to him. The pair of sneakers have eluded him once again. The movie comes to an end, and the epilogue says that though Ali couldn't win the third prize, he gets a successful career ahead as a racer.

This seemingly simple narrative has been treated with all the naive innocence of the kids. The spectrum of emotions that Ali and Zahra have managed to exhibit with all the earnesty makes the movie a visual delight, and language does not become a barrier at any time during the movie.

The simple sequence of Zahra chasing the shoe when it falls into a gutter, makes you feel like running by her side, and help her grab it. You just make an instant connection with the pair, and start feeling for them.

Its amazing the way the director gets into the child psyche, and shows the bonding between the siblings..their little moments of joy amidst all the struggle for their everyday needs. The scene when Zahra and Ali start playing with the soap bubbles formed when Zahra tries to clean the dirt-smitten sneakers is plain heartening..small things in life giving so much joy to kids..and we as grown-ups just don't know how to savour them. There's one more sequence worth mention, when Ali goes to uptown with his dad to make some money. They indeed make some, and the conversation between the two takes you to a different world, where dreams start unfolding- "Son, we'll soon have some more money, and then we can buy a refrigerator, and may be rent a better house, and your mom will get some better treatment...", "..and a new pair of shoes for Zahra, Dad?" is all that Ali says..nothing matters to him more than that..ah!

A movie to savor-do I need to say more?

And yes, on a closing note, it reminds me of the famous story by Premchand-"Eid-gaah", which again revolves around a a deprived child, and his poor granny, trying to make both ends meet, and in the process, trying to save some pennies, so that poor Hamid gets an 'Idi', and gets to live some share of his childhood(most of which is already tattered in the battle against abject poverty, save for his dreams that his ammi and abba will someday return from their trip to heaven, and bring him goodies).Hamid, on the other hand keeps thinking of his grandma, who doesn't have a 'chimta'(pair of tongs), and her hands get burnt every other day while cooking. He goes to the mela, and is a mute spectator, when all his friends are savouring mouth-watering sweets, and enjoying merry-go-rounds. He eludes all the temptations of the child within, and buys a chimta. Amazing story encompassing all the maturity of childhood!!

Dreams Unlimited!!

This one's from my diary..m a dreamer..din dahare kabhi bi, kahin bhi khuli aankhon se sapne dekhna shuru..its but natural, that some of them do shatter, and leave a lil tear rolling down somewhere in that deep secret corner. Dreams do fly high, but they do fall down as well..amazing world..they fly, and I fly higher..and in the wink of an eye..lo..they are gone..but no matter what, I'll not stop dreaming:-)

Cheers to all dreamers!

From the window of my dreams,
My thoughts do fly,
Aiming high,
Into the limitless sky,
Softly they whisper
into my ear everyday,
"Don't shut this window dear,
Come what may.
We as dreams,
You can give us a try
Some of us might live with you,
and some of us might die.
But don't shed a tear for us,
and promise you'll never cry,
'coz the footprints we've left,
will always guide you by."
..and to keep my promise,
I open this window everyday,
To nurture new dreams,
and old memories that stay,
..for every new dream
is a brand new beginning,
a sunrise, bringing in me
new hopes, with a bright new ray!!

Mon ami

Just feel like making a new friend today..what better than a pet!
So here's ami-mera naya dost.say hello buddy:)

adopt your own virtual pet!

D first one..

Okie..This one's been due for a while..or a looooooooooooooong while shud I say!!

After months of procrastinating, and finding excuses like I am still finding a name for my blog(lame as they could be..but its easy to fool your own self), I have decided to take the plunge!

And as this is gonna be a reflection from some small, yet precious moments of my li'l life..decided to call it Nimisha (Nimisha==> a moment). So hereon, all my endless blabber will have a more concrete form..will pour in whatever I feel like, and don't feel like saying..rantings..musings..technique..anything and everything..glimpses from all corners of my life..after all each moment is worthy of living:)