Mein Alag Tha...

Spare my hindi here folks...this is an emotionally touching adaptation of Frankfinn Institute Advertisement that keeps running on the T.V and pestering normal people how being different and being Air host/Hostess is so cool...

Mein Alag tha...Mein Udna chahta tha...
Bachpan mein school mein bhis kuch khaas padhai nahi karta tha, pur mein jan-ta tha ki mein ALag tha...kyunki mein Udna chahta tha.

College mein grace marks sey pass hua, papa nein jaan khali...pur main jan-ta tha ki mein Alag tha - Mein Udna chahta tha...

Phir ek din mujhe kuch like minded dost mile, jo sab jan-te the ki woh alag the, woh sab Udna chahte the...Aur hum sab milke GANJA phukte the...

Aaj samajh mein aya hey ki mein alag nahi tha...pur aaj bhi UD zaroor raha hoon...

God said, ‘Let there be Light,’ F.M retorted, ‘Let it be taxed,’ M.S.E.B added, ‘Let it be cut during the peak hours.’

One morning, I was getting ready for going to work…usual week day. I offered my prayers and sat for breakfast.

Suddenly, God appeared from the thin air and asked, ‘Child, tell me, are you happy with your country?’
‘I very much am God. I get electricity for 20 hours, water for 5 hours a day and good roads for 6 whole months in a year. The most important thing is - I was born in Free India 26 years ago and our country has been free for almost 60 years. What more could somebody ask for?'

‘God, if you don’t mind, I am getting late for work and I would not want to loose my incentives. Furthermore, my boss would not believe the excuse that I was chatting with you.‘

‘Child, don’t worry about that, God said. I’ll take care of it. Come; show me the things that you love about your country.‘

‘God, I love almost everything about my country. The only flip side is that buying a house in Mumbai is probably more difficult than securing a place in Heaven.‘

‘Since in this lifetime, I would not be able to achieve the former, I was wondering if you could put up a word for me and my family with St. Peter for the latter. We are ready to offer 14% more prayers in a month than we do now, every month, for the next 5 years. ‘Child, your offer is subject to Earthly & Heavenly risks,’ I will go through your offer carefully before accepting, God said.’

The Car cranked and I and God were soon zooming on “The Expressway” to Pune. God marveled at the sight of his own creations (beautiful brown mountains, lush green trees, vast farmlands) and the sub-contractor’s – The Expressway.

We were passing through a tunnel and God asked me to stop there. I argued with God that it was not allowed to stop in tunnels and/or on Expressway. But, God again assured me that he would take care of it and hence I obliged, though I was skeptical about how God would bargain with the Traffic Police, if we were caught, i.e.

God started laughing with joy and said ‘Child, look at the mouth of the tunnel, this proves my theory – "There is light at the end of the tunnel."

‘I agree God, I said. But there is also toll booth at the end of it. Further, two wheelers, three wheelers, bullock carts, cycles and jay walkers are not allowed.’

‘I hope you have Indian currency for the toll as nobody is allowed to pass for free on the Expressway and you are only God, not a Politician.’

Municipality culling Dogs. Police taking care of Humans.

Various sections of people from the entire country criticized the actions of Bruhat Bangalore Mahanagar Palike (BBMP) recently.

The BBMP had culled a bunch of waiters of a certain hotel for they had mauled three children, one of them, the CM’s son; the reason – children demanded food after the closing hours. Dogs from various areas were also killed for they had mauled small children, however, Dogs of Bangalore have been unfortunate in this regards – neither contraceptives nor sterilization; no food or life!

The central government has also come down heavily upon the Karnataka State government for its’ utter callous approach at curbing the Dog and Hindu menace – as recently seen in Bangalore mauling incidences and Mangalore riots. The top officials of the Karnataka government, on condition of anonymity, told our reporters that there have been direct orders to put to sleep, both these factions. All the money, thus saved, is to be used for upliftment of the minorities and families of the victims of dog bites, if they are minorities i.e.
All the resources, natural or human are to be claimed by the minorities first, said the P.M.

No party or any other news media, other than the Animal Welfare board, RSS and our news channel praised the efforts of Gujarat government for effectively carrying out sterilization of 45000 dogs in the city of Ahmedabad alone, since, such acts of balance by an opposition party was considered a threat to the central motto of – India Poised. The cotton farmers of Vidharbha though, are still poisoning themselves against the backdrop of booming economy and a linear growth in inflation.

The left factions meanwhile praised BBMP, not for they believed in culling of dogs, but because their Chinese comrades asked them to.

The communists further informed that culling humans was also not a bad practice if aesthetically done for pragmatic purposes. Large scale human massacres could also be justified if done for land acquisitions…

From each according to their abilities (fertile lands from the farmers) and to each according to their needs (Rs. one lakh car manufacturers and SEZ owners).

I, from the bottom of my heart, give zero Marxs to such innovative policy makers. May god bless them and rest their souls in peace (here, I pay homage to the murdered dogs and the mauled/killed little children of Bangalore).

* All names have been withheld for security reasons; the crimes are of such magnitudes that neither ‘The Bahadurs’ nor ‘The Bhaiyyas’ are willing to guard the witnesses. They have (witnesses) sought protection from Italian Mafia, at a hefty price of course; instead.

Gollum seeks The Ring and a Bride.

We started for mulshi dam (about 40 Kms from Pune city, India) at about 15.30 hrs. (The name of the village, where the Dam is built on the river Mutha, is Mulshi, hence, Mulshi Dam). There were two couples, one married and one in mutual agreement to marry each other in the near future. Tagging along with them were three ‘Stags’, including me. I wonder why the married / about to be married men are not addressed with such grace as well.

Probably because once the rings are exchanged and marriage ceremony completed; though the man is the ring bearer as well, wife assumes the position of the ring master and once a ‘Stag,’ the man is reduced to an acrobatic monkey, ever changing his antics to please the master, but, time has proven that almost all men, in due course, choose willingly to be such monkeys, thus proving that a Stag’s brains are inversely proportional to their spirit (of freedom).

We changed lanes at chandni chowk, Pune and were on the course to Mulshi Dam. The road, right from the start, was full of twists and turns. The young minds were inclined on proving their prowess on the tarmac. Packed with 67 BHP (break horse power) and 15 BHP in a car and a bike respectively, seven souls were racing towards the destination for we didn’t want to miss the sunset. The beers were getting warm as well! Paradoxically most of the horsepower was concentrated in the car, wherein, both the couples were seated. It seemed ‘Stag’ term wasn’t so graceful after all (assuming stags to be as powerful as horses). I was craving for a large Royal Stag; I am talking about the liquor of same name, by the way.

Mulshi Dam lies amidst the Sahiyadri range of mountains, the pride of Maharashtra. The view from the road on practically each corner was breath taking. Asthmatics and people with weak hearts should refrain from visiting here. Sincerely, the scenery was full of flat lands; most of them were sugar cane farms. Strategically placed mountains encompassed the horizon, which gave a feeling that Gods owned these lands. Yeah Yeah…Kerala as well.

On the contrary, we did come across villages time and again. Looking at the poor farmers and their houses, mystic thoughts were crushed with sullen reality. Vested democracy superseded God’s creations to bring about feeling of a depressing joy. I wondered if God had directly created Rum instead of Sugar canes, the farmers would be a rich class of people and visiting Mulshi would be a cheer(s)full journey for all humans.

We reached Mulshi at about 1730 hrs. and quickly found a great Dhaba (Shack), Paradise Café, which provided awesome food and an approach road that directly took us to the banks of river Mutha. It was a 15/20 min walk from the Dhaba. We were looking exactly due west, straight at the Sun. It was shining brightly, just like I do during the closing hours on a Friday evening at my workplace.

A great mountain stood tall, exactly opposite us. The river curled around it in its natural course only to be stopped by a dam(n) on our right side a few kilometers away. Tata Power generated electricity from there. And yes, we still have 4 hours of load shedding in Navi Mumbai, which is approximately 100 Kms. from Mulshi Dam.

I was in a fix at that spot for, to my North direction (the water, Mountain & the setting Sun - w.r.t compass, west direction) provided hope that tomorrow would be better. Its not that today is bad, but why not hope for the best.

To my west direction (huge river & a long streak of mountains) provided courage as I did not know anything about the places that lay in that direction. And the local trains were min. 50 Kms. away, wherein, I could buy a map of Maharashtra & probably come up with some logic to counter argue the phrase ‘West is the Best,’ whoever disagrees with me should go visit Kurla west. The only things ‘Best’ there are the buses.

On my east direction was the dam site, which was neither visible nor were we allowed to visit there. The power station brought about feelings of anger and loss of faith (in our current government). Another parameter that annoyed me with east direction was a group of people who kept on screaming and shouting needlessly. And last but not the least, the concentration of communists in east direction (of India) is in such magnitude that it irks most of the nationalists of our country, including me. At that point of time near the river, I hated east direction.

I was sitting closest to the river and all my cousins; bhabhi (cousin’s wife); would be bhabhi (another cousin’s would be); two of my relatives (stags like me) were all due south to me.
They are my loved ones and my life. Of course one of the cousins could not join us because he was busy mating…err…in meetings. I wished my sister, her husband and their little toddler was there as well. They would have loved that place.

The setting Sun, rather, the Earth’s revolution and Beers were a function of time and both were disappearing relatively fast.

The Proposer and the Proposee, yes, I am talking about the couple who intend to marry each other. The girl’s father was against the idea. Hence, they had not exchanged any rings, yet, to pacify themselves they did gift each other all the 3 parts of collector’s edition of ‘The Lord Of the Rings’, I do not know why.

Unlike any other Neo corporate executives, their love for each other was as pure as that in the medieval times, a strange phenomenon. They had made a 3 point program to achieve the final goal of binding themselves in holy matrimony, they were as follows:

1.The Fellowship of the Ring -

In near future, the couple would exchange the rings. In Hindu marriage system, the rings are exchanged before the marriage as the part of the engagement. The rings would then be kept safely, in the custody of two of their closest friends. These slug heads would also sign the marriage registration as witnesses and would indirectly be an accessory to the small percentile increase in India’s already inflated population. Did I mention that the marrying couple is commerce graduates? The fellowship of the ring was thus, created.

2.The Two Towers -

Now I would not like to directly disrespect the girl’s father and call him ‘The Dark Lord, Sauron and there is no question of calling the boy’s Father/Mother anything because they did not have any qualms with the marriage. So, let us assume for a while that the girl’s mom and pops are the ‘The two towers.’ The girl’s parents would either have to give consent to the marriage or face the might of ‘Love’ and specie that would help the couple in their ordeal was the ‘Gollum,’ for he is still in search of his ‘Precious & the ring.’ And he has a pure evil mind that would support the couple in their marriage.

3.The Return of the King –

If everything went well as anticipated by the couple, they would get their marriage registered and return as King and Queen to happily live ever after and help ‘The Gollum’ in his pursuit of finding his ‘Precious.’

It seems that even ‘The Gollum’ wouldn’t want to stay a stag. Let’s hope the best for Gollum and pray that everything goes well for the couple.

Curry Chicken for the soul.

' Hey honey, are you ready to wake up. Its probably going to be a killing business day today,' said David. 'Carol looked so beautiful and at peace while she slept,' David thought.

Carol lazily opened her eyes to find David smiling. Carol was the smartest in her lot and a vital stats to kill for. David looked very smart and had toned muscles at requisite places that made sure most of the cocks stayed away from Carol.
'You know how the system works. We are the only dying hope for our little ones,' David said. He was right as usual.

David and Carol had been together for past two months at a suburban poultry farm. They had 4 little chicks who would soon grow up to become whats inevitable in lives of most of the chicken -- end up being stewed, grilled or barbecued.

David could sense for the past 2/3 days that their time would soon come. He was scared, yet stern. Carol was petrified of going under the butcher's knife nevertheless she had long ago accepted her fate to be on a humans plate, along side or marinated along with David.

The Farm hands came to pick them up, just like David had anticipated, for the big past that night. David and Carols shrieks could neither reach farm hand's ears, which were used to such powerless tantrums nor the horizon and God beyond it.
David and Carol did not die together. Unfortunately Carol had to witness the entire process (done to David) first before it was her turn.

Under the butcher's knife the only thought in Carol's mind was 'Our afterlives would be spiced up after death has done us into parts.'

Chicken for the people...
Chicken of the people...
Chicken by the people...

The Haunted Begining

I grew up in a small town - Panvel, Navi Mumbai, Maharashtra. During my growing years, the late 80s and early 90s, India was going through a lot of reforms, developments with respect to infrastructure, housing etc. and so was our beloved town.

There was one bungalow though, which stood apart. It was an architectural masterpiece and an alleged haunted house. It practically never changed in the past 20 years and stood tall, yet slowly withering.
Me and my two friends, during the summer of 2006, decided to go there and stay for a night to detect and feel any paranormal activity inside and in the vicinity of the bungalow.

A lot of development had taken place in surrounding areas of the bungalow. The gate, which once used to be isolated, was now road facing. An undergraduate college had sprung up on its right side, on the left was a saw mill and on the backside, there were residential complexes.

‘How did the Land Developers advertise these houses man, Rest with Rent,’ said Brijesh, my childhood friend and a Land developer himself, who always had a witty yet unfunny way of putting things.

We had carried requisite materials for the stay that night: sleeping bags; a lot of fire wood; ample quantities of munchies and alcohol. Though there is no such phrase as “liquor keeps ghosts away”, we had imagined, when face to face with ghosts, breaking the ice would be a lot less frightful, if drunk.

Vinod, yet another childhood friend, an electronics engineer and a software programmer had decided to join us, as he was sure that it were these ghosts and not credit card telemarketers, who were haunting him daily on his mobile phone, thanks to a HBO series called “Strange Frequencies”.
He wanted to settle scores with them, like any other angry, young and independent man.

We reached the bungalow at about 21:30 hrs. and without wasting time, quickly set up our gear for the night. Out came our flashlights and two bottles of finest whisky. We then started the inspection of the Haunted area.
Only Vinod was optimistic about our task. He felt, if the ruling Communist Party’s Government officials caught us for trespassing before the ghosts did, we would have a slightly better chance of surviving the ordeal because, by chance, we were devouring, “Red Label”.

Spookily enough, the windows had been completely shut with wooden planks, as if to keep some one from jumping out and pouncing upon the trespassers. Little signs of, what once must have been sparkling white paint, remained. Since the door was heavily bolted, we had a bleak chance of getting in and we were hoping that the ghosts, offended by our presence in their territory, would come out to greet us, or rather, eat us.

Vinod, a true patriot, was hyper-active with what he thought as a great idea. He resolved to start a “Quit Bungalow” movement against the paranormal telemarketers, AKA Ghosts and demand a dominion status from them. Brijesh retorted, ‘Munna Bhai chup ho jaa, varna Ramsay Brothers aa jayenge, aur voh saat (seven), sath, hain.’

Joking around, we were noticing the area and it was a scenic view, in the moonless night. Most of the trees in the vicinity were dead. Zee horror show style noises were emanating from the dried leaves that were being crushed under our feet.

Two bottles had finished; and our drunk, charged selves gathered a huge lot of dried leaves, coupled with our fire wood, we lit a camp fire. The booze had taken its toll. Vinod’s I-Pod was blasting Enigma and some underground Celtic music. Ironically, our dance like actions around the campfire resembled more with Discovery Channel’s “Tribal Tuesdays” program than with a genuine call to the spirits, which was ruling inside us and in our superstitious beliefs; around us, in that bungalow area. I wondered, if we really came out unscathed tonight, we still would require heavy doses of liver tonic to exorcise the demons.

By dawn, i.e. around 5:00 in the morning, and no signs of ghosts later, we cozily settled in our sleeping bags and were in our own little semi-conscious dreams.

Both of them were fast asleep, I did see ghosts that night though. The ghosts of my past. The ills and wrongs that, unknowingly, I had done to the people I loved and cared about.

The realizations of those wrongs, in many sub-conscious and rather subtle ways, had been haunting me. And there, in front of the elemental fire, I resolved to change and better myself for a bright and positive future.
Streaks of morning light hammered gently on the already dilapidated structure, which once must have been an abode of happiness for some family,now, perceived to be a ghost house.

The feeling of excitement and anticipation of searching for ghosts had been transformed. I had found my ghosts, within me, which were always there, dying, or rather, already dead. And yet, to be seen. These would remain with me for the rest of my life, including the CDs of movie Constantine...I was content with switching between channels, nevermind Heaven and Hell.

I only hope that out of most of our fictional or real experiences, if we would be able to draw optimistic conclusions,then, each day would help us become better persons and make us more Human.

Let the spirits live on...sans the excise duties, so that the parties can rock on for longer periods of time.

If you like what we have written, do forward this story to all of your friends, for every forward, me, Brijesh and Vinod will make enough money and by the end of year 2007, we might be able to buy three Maruti cars, thereafter, we intend to write our next adventure, for your reading pleasures, “The Punks who sold their Marutis.”

A cute Jam(b)ooree ....(the b is slient)....

Face defined with chubby cheeks and a flowing hairline,

A beauty personified, grace exemplified.

Powerhouse of grits is what your stay here has testified;

A little overweight but thats justified,

Where else would such a big heart reside.

A small summer flight and since you have soared in the 'sky,'

Little planes below are awestruck as they have watched you fly.

The bird feet explore these new sands inch by inch, mile after mile;

Caging fellow beings forever in that all prevading smile.

Politics of Chai....

The tea shop owner, Raghu, 45 years old, lived a few hundred feet away in a small slum with his wife, two daughters and a son.
My job, like most Indians, is from 9:00 hrs to 17:30 hrs. Late evenings are spent with friends at Raghu’s chai shop (tea stall), smoking cigarettes, devouring chai and chatting up.

Raghu’s house-size, a room rather, was such that it would make India’s population-density look negligible, its size was 10’ X 12’ X 8’ (LXWXH).
Raghu had invited us at his house for the satyanarayan pooja, holy ritual done by Hindus to please lord Vishnu, part of holy trinity, and we gladly obliged.
The exterior of his house was rather eccentric, painted in orange. The colour somehow made the house appear smaller than its original 120 square feet of area.
Just looking at that house/room was making me claustrophobic and Raghu shared this space with 4 other humans.
I wondered, ‘would Michael Jordan ever fit this “Space Jam”?’

Compared to the exterior paint, the interiors were very modestly done with a pearl white colour on the walls. Above, a 2 feet mezzanine floor kept their bedding; one corner of the house comprised of kitchen complete with one stove and a couple utensils; an L-shaped table near the kitchen area hosted Television and what probably looked like children’s school books. One mild steel cup board placed near the door must be used for storing the family’s clothes and whatever little jewellery Chandra mausi, Raghu’s wife, we called her mausi, name denoted to maternal aunts, out of respect.

We quickly offered our prayers at the pooja dais and settled outside Raghu’s house on wooden stools that he provided. He offered us tea, only this time, free of cost.
Raghu hailed from a state in North India & poverty & unemployment compelled him to migrate to Maharahstra, in our town. After working at a tea stall for couple of years, he had started his own tea stall and on basis of that venture, got married and had raised a family.
Most of locals and local politicians were making hue and cry that people like Raghu are straining the resources of the Municipal Corporation and State Government and therefore must be evicted from the city/town. Politicians at the centre (New Delhi) were counter arguing that Indians can travel anywhere in India without fear; hiding the facts however; that the State Governments of North India had completely failed in creating employment opportunities, thus compelling people like Raghu to migrate.

Going to Raghu’s house was a humbling experience. Raghu and his household is the epitome of below economy classes of India and the story is same in most of such slums, just like Raghu's.

Raghu meanwhile attempts to legalize his citizenship in this state but in vain. We keep going at Raghu’s chai shop, hoping someday, all Indians will be treated equally, when no body needs to make “first claim” on our already diminished resources.

Lights, my ire.

18/01/2006.

What is the motto of our current government ?
'Sadak, Pani, Bijli' for all or 'Sirf Sadak ko Pani aur Bijli!'

Electricity, Roads & Water departments in New Panvel are under CIDCO's authority.
Strangely New Panvel & most of Navi Mumbai are reeling under load shedding for about 2.5 hours daily as this is winter. The hours would increase during summer season.

Ironically day before yesterday, in New Panvel, the street lights were ON, at about 11:00 am! and today on Sion-Panvel highway, the street lights were ON near Kalamboli & Kamothe node at about 11:15 am!

Some areas in New Panvel (eg Sukhapur) are facing water problems but the authorities have this precious commodity in abundance to water the 'cement dividers!'
The kind of signals such examples give is in no way indicating CIDCO is doing anything at all to curtail the acute electricity shortage.

Most of CBD 'The Nariman Point' of Navi Mumbai is facing load shedding from 11:30 am to 02:00 pm. Small business owners who can not afford inverters will have to shut down shops if our esteemed CIDCO keeps up this good work.

While India's economy booms, CIDCO is giving us a preview of our doom, that too, for no apparent fault of ours.

Authorities complain that they want to hike the meter rates, i say double them but please give us electricity; don't push businesses in to non-functional oblivion.
The world moves towards paperless office concept & we are now reforming our office to computer less!

And shamelessly enough, they want to fine people who 'use' more electricity. At least they are not 'wasting' it.

I feel that Vidarbha farmers & Thane's malnourished children are not enough to open their eyes. They want to kill small time entrepreneurs and businessmen as well; nice innovative way to keep population under control, eh!

People, don't be surprised if you see a 26 year old, expressionless, eyeing the tubelight utters 'BIJLI,' just like that old woman in movie Swades does, after she gets electricity in her house.

Welcome to Navi Mumbai, The City OFF 21st century.

Jai Hind!! Jai Maharashtra!!

Fun & Frolic in the 'biased' Air.

I was looking at a picture of an Australian group performing at the Gateway of India, Mumbai, as a part of Mumbai festival, in one of the dailies. The photo brought back sad memories of a show which was intended to happen there but never took off; rather it was not allowed to start. I’m talking about I Rock 2005.

If anything is truly synonymous with Mumbai for the past 20/22 years, it is the Independence Day Rock, without fail it happened every year, sometimes delayed, but sure to happen; a phenomenon closely relative with our lifeline, ‘Local Trains.’ Our Authorities should have incorporated it in the ‘Mumbai Festival.’

Sometime back (September 2005) after our hallowed month of Independence, every rock & roll fan in Mumbai and surrounding cities was gearing up for live event of his life, ‘20th year of Independence Rock at Gateway of India, Mumbai.’

“So what if they did not allow us to rock at Rangbhavan,” a friend said, “we will rock harder at the Gateway of India.” "Indeed," I thought.

But, to our horror, the Mumbai Police struck down the hammer, for ‘Archeological’ reasons. Truly, as weird as it sound, allegations to shutting down the show before it started was ‘sound damages the monuments!’ Ironically political speeches and sounds from ‘Phirang’ vocal cords strengthens it.; No disrespect to the phirangs.

Till this day, I have kept my tickets for that show. Those tickets are an epitome of prejudice; How authorities strike ruthlessly upon a group of people who do not fall under their definition of ‘vote bank,’ a theory proved in the Anti-Reservations issue. The motivations of our esteemed politicians have gradually shifted from ‘Principles of Gandhiji’ to ‘Gandhiji on their compounding principle.’ No doubt Gandhiji is still revered for different reasons I suppose.
I wrote this article with a broken heart hoping this might revive Rangbhavan, after all the only thing that we do own is ‘the spirit of Mumbai,’ right ?