My echo, my shadow and me...

One more post and I will be hundred. I noticed it the other day, from the numbers in the archive section of the side bar. It was beyond my imagination, that I will be able to make it so far, when I started blogging back in the summer of 2005 inspired by Soumyadip . That was just as an experiment. I had never tried writing anything more than the dry dead news reports before. The biggest question was 'Can I write?' I was a bit scared, a bit hesitant...but with time it evaporated and I slogged it to the century. Can this be a reason to celebrate? Is this an excuse big enough to gobble some bottles of beer and talk nonsense? "Tum ladko ko peene ke alawa celebrate karneka koi achha tareeka nehi choojhta kya? Bus bahan chahiye..." ("Can’t you guys think of a better way to celebrate? Always looking for excuses to drink?") No, hundred posts in a span of two years is not at all impressive. But, why these land marks? Why reaching hundred so important for you? Why do w...

My echo... Slowly the cracking sounds of the dry leaves died out and I got a feel of the rocky ground I was walking on...only sounds remained were that of wind and the last rays of the setting sun getting reflected after striking on the sharp edges of the uneven rocks... "Is there any one around? Can any one hear me?"...ear me?...r me?...r me?...me...e?...e?...e?” Words kept on bouncing till they lost all their energy in the roughness of the rocks and died out. My shadow... I saw him standing in front of the mirror with the same old tool box. "Hey, what are you doing?" "Can't you see? Trying to fix a smile!" "What a big job that is?" "Why don't you help me out? I have been trying for past one hour. But some how none of the smiles are looking good on my face?" I got busy with the screw driver...fixing different curves on the face, to fix the smile that looks perfect...after struggling for one hour mo...

There was a small stream flowing just outside of the school boundary, running parallel to it. There was a small bridge over the stream but we hardly cared for it as the stream was too small. But a year ago, last time a year ago when I had to cross it there was no way to avoid the huge concrete bride over it. The stream has grown into a river... It was a Friday and as usual there was excitement as there will be an hour long lunch break which we are going to invest in the game of cricket. That also mean's there are chances that the lunch will be sacrificed in the name of cricket. It was ensured that the bats and wickets were in perfect conditions. The moment the bell announces the lunch break, Nupur will rush to the nearby market to buy a ball. And everything happened as per the plan. The problem came when Ratul choose to hammer hard a full-toss ball with a full flung bat resulting into an 'over boundary'. The ground was not 'that big'. As per the rules of the game (a...

Sneaking in through the white fog screen the morning sun presented a new face a smile warm enough to fuel my walk thousands of miles and more... 'Smile today-tomorrow is going to be worst' If you are inspired by Murphy's philosophy, you will find yourself trying to abstract each and every ounce of reasons to put on a smile, a genuine smile and yes, there'll be no dearth of reasons when you seek... You will not be able to keep yourself from smiling when you find the squirrels and house sparrows getting into a mild fight around the issue of possession of the flatted rice you have spread on the roof top. It will definitely be difficult for you to resist feeling the bliss when in a few moments you find both the squirrel and the sparrow have given up the fight and sharing the grains like affable neighbours...one of the sparrows even dared to sit on the head of the senior most of the squirrels, and the squirrel, usually restless, choose to remain still as a host...a...

As if the winter has infused fresh blood into everything...the house sparrows seemed extremely happy as they skipped and jumped on the branches of the creeper in the front grill...the squirrels were unusually noisy. Adding to these happy music were the magpie and the fighter bulbuls...all these produced a musically noisy Saturday morning, forcing me to leave my bed earlier than usual...and I was happy with no particular reason... "What it is that you are happy about?" I tossed a question towards the man inside. But there were no answers, a silence inside that did not sound unnatural. So I tried rephrasing the question, (something I have been doing professionally through the past four years) in order to extract an indirect answer..."What makes you happy?" Ahoy! It did the trick...The biological search engine turned up with thousands of random answers in response and in a few moments I found my mind stuck in a thought-jam. Now the task in hand was to assort ...

"In the morning I had to drive with him to the tax office. Through out the way he lectured me on value addition, increasing knowledge bla bla bla...it was such a torture..." “You have had to listen to him only for an hour. I have to sit just next to him and listen to all these crap all through the day...” "Hey I have heard he was to be transferred to another position. But till now there's no symptom of that happening. If he remains in the department for a little more, is sure I am going to switch over...I just can't bear him any more." Sitting among the three I decided my next post will be something about the species called 'Boss' and the unique relationship between the bosses and their subordinates (we will be calling subs hereafter), well presented by the joke The assistant makes a mistake. Irritated, boss open fires at him... Boss: Kabhi Gadha Dakhe ho? (Have you ever seen an ass?) Assistant: (With lowered eyes) No Sir. Boss: Niche kya dekh rahe h...

Blankets of fog on both sides of the road showed winter is making inroads into Delhi. For the next few months, the city will be a pleasant stay. Lazy traffic movement on the road added to the deserted morning cityscape. As if being forced to leave the pleasant winter morning sleep, disgusted, the vehicles were moving on snooze. All these including the smooth movement of the vehicle, the road side trees running backwards produced a mirror with a hazy reflection of me in it...with time passing by it became clearer, to the extent where I can see the tiles of different colours that I am made up of...some of them with throbbing colours, some of them faded with layers of dust gathered over time... I found myself following the instinct, got busy dusting the tiles... Perhaps I was too consumed in restoring the fading colors and realised it only when the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, tossing me out of my place... "Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, ...

For most of the people from the part of the country I come from, Diwali is just an occasion to burst crackers. It was not much different for me too. The very thought of Diwali was scary (!) for me. My poor lungs were too weak to bear the amount of pollution in the air, thanks to the tons of crackers burnt. As the days closed in to Diwali and people around start count down, I would be crippled by the images of me, sitting in a corner of my bed, struggling for breath. I have had sufficient reasons to hate the festival. Even then there were certain things I liked about the festival. I was scared of it but waited for it...waited eagerly to watch the lines of diays that maa (mamma) would put around the house, making it look like a heavenly abode...I longed for the day when there will be silence all around; I would sit on a chair and watch the flames dancing with air waves. Sight of diyas struggling to keep themselves alive when air movements became too ruthless evoked countless thoughts i...

How tough can making chapatti be? If you are a natural cook, you will frown,"Making chapatti tough?" Ask me, I have been trying to learn that for the past four years.Just to add to the variety of food a bachelor can have at his own auspices. Even then I am miles away from proficiency. Demonstration of my imperfection starts right from the stage of preparing the atta dough. Either it will be too hard or too soft , as if to create problems at the time of rolling the dough into a disc. There will be no dearth of reason for the discs to be uneven, at times taking the shape of the map of India.As I was never good at drawing, a map of India used to take "more or less" the shape of a disc. Now, the chapatti discs I roll take more or less the shape of a map. The major disaster happens at the last and final stage, browning the discs. My teachers say chapatti can never be called well-prepared until and unless it puffs while browning. I have never seen that happe...

Photo courtsey: www.robi-bobi.net

"Yuji San! Are you happy?" asks Frank. (San is the Japanese equivalent of Mr.). Yuji looks at the space in front in a meditative mood (as if he is trying to work out whether he is happy or not). Then he draws a typical big Japanese smile on his face that reflects extreme happiness and shake head heavily, "Yes, Yes"(the second yes to confirm the first yes). This would set all five of us into a roaring laughter. This was the second time I met with Frank. He is 67 and a manager of a European auto giant. He works till 2 O'clock in the night (!) and gets up at 6 in the morning. In spite of that I have never seen him dozing off on a ride as long as four hours. I also have never heard him raising his voice to express dissatisfaction. His silence was enough to set all of us into motion to correct what ever mistake made or occurred. However his voice shakes everything around when he is happy, when he laughs. Yuji is an engineer. As it happens with almost all Japanese, Yu...

a prayer for those who have lost their lives in the mumbai blasts on 11th of July, 2006...an also for those who is suffering because of this brutal act... photo courtsey www.lapster.smugmug.com

After fretting for a long time about the sameness of the days it was time to have a taste of the other side of the coin. At the end of a week long race against time and spaces, I am physically exhausted but mentally prepared to live n number of weeks like this. There were hundreds of occasions that made me aware of my limits. But there also were multiple of hundreds of factors that inspired me to strive to defy these limits. The three hour journey from Mumbai to Silvassa was a picturesque ride among the lush green hills, charged by the touch of monsoon. Watching them with wide open eyes, I struggled for words to appreciate the beauty. But somehow I failed to enjoy the sight. Open eyes does not necessarily mean sight. To enjoy beauty you need to have imaginative eyes, need to integrate the inputs from eyes with the imaginations of the mind. But the later was busy in searching ways to manage the loss that Mumbai rains have caused, messing up all our plans. Trapped for hours on the Mumbai...

Do you have any language preference for your thoughts? I mean to ask do you think in any specific language. Not un-usual, until a few years back I used to think in my mother tongue. There was a sudden change when I had to shift to Bhopal in search of a career. In order to adjust with the changed language environment I have had to change the language preferences for my thought process. Then only I realised what difference it can make to you, thinking in your mother tongue and language that you have acquired. It was some kind of a jerk and my mind waves, thoughts often stumbled making me feel helpless. You search for your vocabulary for the perfect word and it comes up with a blank screen, forcing you to go mute in between conversations. The only option is to use a word that somehow resemble. You use that option. At times the one in conversation with you either feels offended or burst into laughter. I have got the chance of becoming "a laughing stalk" numerous times so far. At ...

I usually don't peep into the affairs of others around me. But I failed to avoid noticing that the girl (in her early twenties) sitting next to me was dozing off with a book open in her hands. Allan Pease's "Body Language: How to Read Others' Thoughts by Their Gestures"...I felt the curves on my face taking the shape of a big smile. Perhaps it's the period of life when almost everyone craves for a peep into the life of the people around. I too tried my best to acquire the magic power of reading one without letting know that I was doing that. It started with my reading of a piece of Allan Pease's article in the magazine Competition Success Review about the importance of the ability to read body language of people, how mastering it can make things different for one, improve communication skills etc etc...inspired deep into my heart, I tried to grasp everything I can get on the topic. I n the same process I came in terms with the art of analysing handwritings...

Let's celebrate... Thanks Motivated Motions

The other day, Rita posted a comment on my blog, "You've been tagged. Check my blog." The tag was to list six of my wired habits! Hey what about the scale to measure the amount of weirdness? I do not know whether the habits I am listing are wired or not...but just following my mind... 1. I like to believe people. I like to be able to have faith on people around me. I believe, except for a few who have the habit of making phony statements, people generally do not fake or trick. Back in my university days, once I was in a long queue in my bank to deposit ten thousand bucks. I was in a hurry and the bank security person offered to deposit that on my behalf. One moment and the man inside me said, "Yes". My friends said it was foolishness on my part. Even I thought so. But I was not surprised that he did not tarnish my faith. 2. I have a heart weaker than my brain. Cause, I have used my heart thousands of times more than my brain so far. And I know for sure, it pai...