CHEERING INDIA!

I know from the thought of movement to the real move, has taken me quite a time but the positive development is I am here. And am giving my blog the attention it needs. I have lately been off blogging and took a whole year or more,being on the social networking sites. Was on facebook for quite a while but when every friend and relative knew the exact moment I was sneezing,I realised its time to move on to twitter.Like I tweeted once, facebook is the living room,twitter the bedroom and google plus (doubt how many really take it seriously) is the guest room of social networking apartment. While you have all your visitors coming in and being nice on facebook, you can be your true self in twitter ...and google plus,well, how many really use the guest room??
I am pretty unsocial in the real life but thanks to a close friend, I managed to befriend a lady in the last few months,whom I know not much but just through her tweets,.She comes across as a pleasant and a warm person and intrigues me with her journey in India. Today while going through her blog, I realised that being Indian in India when you were not born there is not easy.Its an uphill task. You are not accepted as Indian because you dont 'sound' Indian and you have a whole lot of languages to get the hang of before you can proclaim that you know India. I appreciate her for her bravery in leaving a life of comforts in the West and moving to the hardships of India and travelling in India the way an average Indian does.The fact that she doesnt catch the slums and hunger in India on her camera and pen; or portray India as a land of snakes and tigers is something the non-Indians (I mean NRIs and foreigners by that) need to learn.I dont know her reasons for moving to India, and she must surely have 'not-so-nice' experiences and complaints about the country, but while she is yet to learn her hindi, she has lots which the so called Indians can learn from her.
I have been away from India for more than an year now and seeing the country from the other side, does show me the positives of the country. An Indian, forever flaunts his complaints about the country. Its kind of a fashion to complain and crib about the country. Spit right there and then talk about the lack of cleanliness in India. We all have a lesson to pass to others. What I want to talk is the positives of the country.
For one, the democracy really has a strong hold. Right now being in a country where democracy is yet to find roots, I realise how strong it is in my country.We still follow the rules of democracy no matter what. There are a lot of complaints about corruption and agitation in various forms for the same, but every attempt is to get the same done democratically. We may have 1001 reasons to hate the way the government works- we fight, complain, shout and protest, but still are waiting for the government to complete its term before we can again give our mandate. There are cheats and dirty politicians all over but there are still a few clean ones whom we try to get into limelight. We are democratically oriented, which is a good thing.
Another bright spot for us Indians is that  though God has given less in the sense we deal with cleanliness and traffic sense but given enough to work hard and think harder. We spend a lot of it in dealing with our life and work and so may be are left with less of it when it comes to dealing with the civic sense. But the Indian diaspora all over the world is at the places where brain is needed. Unfortunately, most of us,including me, get frustrated at not getting the opportunity to use it the way we want in India and move to other countries. so we land up being surrogate mothers- develop and nurture ideas but they are never ours to own or used for the betterment of our country.
There is a lot to be done, always will be, and talking about the positives is one of them....and I just did my bit there....:) 

Time To Get Over The Inertia

I am blank in my thoughts as I sit here to write but I am determined nevertheless to write. Its been more than an year since I visited my blog.I dont know if its the lack of thoughts or the lack of drive to puts the thought across which kept me away. Lots has changed and lots more will but somehow I seem to be just a bystander watching  time slip by. Rather I am letting time slip by....As I once mentioned in my tweets, I have so much to do but its all in the thoughts, to get them across into action, I lack the drive and I sometimes ponder if its the same me or someone else that is living in my body. I was never so laid back and boring. Thoughts were brought into action before they could be heard by the person next to me- thats how energetic and interested I was. But lately, I just see myself holding onto those thoughts........how much am I really doing to get that thought in action is something I myself cant answer.
Is it my age which is nearing 40 and the fear to take risks ........to make a move? Is it disinterest or the fear of failure and need to start it all over from a scratch? Its all easy to talk insipiringly, but how much do those thoughts do to inspire someone is really what matters.Words looks wonderful when decorated and lots being said in a line but for me those words have only made a beauty statement ......to make them work in action is what I still am looking for.....Its probably the inertia......the inertia of not having done what I want to-which is taking time to set the ball rolling...
I guess we all get into this mode where we have more advices to give and very less which we really follow. We all have lots to talk but never have an ear to listen.Human nature- thats what it is .. no one to blame for that..But when things go wrong, the finger is always pointing away.......the magnetics of the system of never-accept-failure-as-your-own- thats the physics behind it...
Never really thought I had some thoughts to pen on "sweet salt and bitter" but once I started to write I have managed to set the ball rolling........its time ......to LIVE LIFE.......AND STOP READING AND TALKING ABOUT IT....DO AND LIVE AND ACCEPT THE FAILURES AND SUCCESS WITH EQUAL GRACE....the words are for me and hold no advice for anyone......I am off to take the breath of life and do what I wish to......so until next time....and thats gonna be sooner than the last time I said it......for sure!

Time to be back!

I have been missing from bloggeroom for almost an year now. With facebook and twitter casting its spell on me (like on many others),Iguess I just gave a step motherly treatment to my bloggeroom. But now,its time to move from 140 words of status to pages of flowing thoughts.:)

YES...YOU CAN!

My wife wanted me to help her write an editorial for her school magazine.I came up with this.I don't think she found it good enough for her magazine, but I guess its good enough to have a space in sweetsaltandbitter room.So, here goes..

Yes..you can!

What you think today can be a reality tomorrow and the power to make it happen lies within you. Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try. No matter how high the building, the construction always begins with a single brick.

There was once a boy who loved football. He was never too good at it. But every match that his school played, he would reach the ground and watch his team play.His father knew of his liking  for the game and always encouraged him and joined him everytime he went to watch. The coach took notice of it and when there was a need for an extra player, he took him in. The boy was on cloud nine and called his father immediately to tell him the good news.Tears of joy ran down the cheeks of the proud father. Thereafter, whenever the team and his son played, father would be there in the audience encouraging his son to play better. Unfortunately, the boy was not the best of the players in spite of the sincere efforts he put in the game.Most of the times he would be sitting in the dug-out while his father sat in the audience encouraging him not to lose heart.

While his team was practicing for one of the important match of the season, his father suddenly passed away. Tears rolled down his cheeks and with a heavy heart, the boy asked his coach if he could take the day off practice. The coach told him to take his time and be with his family. The do or die match was the next day. The boy went home crying and thinking about his father who never stopped encouraging him in the game he loved.

The next day, the team was losing badly in the match while the boy watched it. He went to his coach and begged to allow him to join the team. The coach was reluctant as the boy was not a good player but since nothing was working for the team, he gave in. Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before, was doing everything right. And the boy won the match from the clutches of defeat for his team.

Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had left the locker room, the coach noticed that the young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone. The coach came to him and said, "Young man, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"The young boy looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?" The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!"

Most of the important things in the world are accomplished by people who keep trying when there seems to be no hope at all. So,friends never lose heart. If you fail in achieving something a 100 times, you have not lost anything because you have discovered 100 ways of how not to do something and that only reduces the chance of error the next time you do it.Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes,courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow”.

Rules of Condolence

Having gone through one of the most trying situations in my life, the loss of my father recently,I have just realised that when it comes to grief,most people,irrespective of how qualified or well read they are, fail miserably at condoling.We have a rule book about everything,but I guess there is one badly required to make people understand that there are certain rules which we all need to understand and follow while being with the people in grief.
1. Condolence is not about pushing the person in grief to the point of breakdown and making him/her miserable all over again.Most people seem to think that this is the way to condole.One needs help to come out of grief and not to be pushed deeper into it.
2.One needs support, a pillar to fall on but not a pillar which talks about itself.Talking of your own loss and your period of grief,DOES NOT help in bringing down the grief of the person who is currently going through it,nor does it do anything to make him/her feel better.
3.Never make an excuse for not condoling on time.THERE IS NO EXCUSE.If someone matters, there is always some time and space available to convey that you are there with the family who have suffered the cruel blow.
4. Make the condolence message short and just enough to convey what you feel.Beyond that you are just using words which don't matter to anyone.
5.Its a family which has shattered like a piece of glass......to pick up the shreds and get in shape takes time.Give the family the space that they need.Be there when they want....... not when you want.
6.A friend in need is a a friend indeed.We all know this idiom.If someone wants to live by it,this is the time.
7.People call and talk often, thinking they are being of help.Words don't matter after a certain time.......the deeds do....So, if you really have nothing much to offer other than words, keep them to a minimum....believe me, its more pain than help to receive the calls and talk and cry while you are actually trying to find the best way to deal with your loss.
8.Offer views when asked for...... its one thing all like to give for free all the time.This is one occasion, when you can spare the family in sorrow, from it and that will be a big help.
9.Do not analyse the death.........thats the worst way to condole.No one wants it and NEVER EVER do it......spare the family of the torture,they are in hell already.
10.Its very important to use the right words....the worst that I heard was "heartiest condolence".I guess, the person wanted to say "heartfelt or deepest condolence" but miserably messed up in conveying it properly.Your thoughts might be right but make sure,so are the words.

Lastly,the family who has lost their dear one, should realise that no matter what,you can't get back the person you have lost.The only way to go,is to move on.Life doesn't stop for anyone and do not expect that people will be with you forever.......take time, but just enough to give you energy to move on.....standing there and looking back will not change anything.....the tribute to the departed,lies in doing things the way he/she would have wanted you to.

Dearest Papa

Dearest Papa,

I dont remember how many letters I have written to you in the 35 years of my life ...some made you laugh, some made you mad and some were surely meant to make you feel good.....this is the only one where I will never know what you felt like after reading it...in fact,I dont even know if you are reading this anywhere.......but surely that doesn't stop me from writing it..because you are there for me and for our family...in every act of ours...just like you always were..

There are everyday events which make me realise that you never left us in lurch.....you lived your life meticulously and things still are the same way when you no longer are with us physically...you taught us in life and you continue to teach us in absentia.I can go on and on about how much we miss you and how tough life is .....but thats not what I wish to talk about..you were with me for 35 years of my life and the rest 35 (if I live as much),I want to live thinking of the good moments and my good fortune of having you as my father.
I read the other day that memories are fine but the problem with them is that you cannot touch them, feel them, hear them and they are never the same as the moment......that is exactly what I miss.......your voice,laughter,the mannerisms,the way you bit your lip when you wrote, the way you washed your face, the way you moved, the way you called us.........so many things which just defined you...
I wear your T shirts, your tie, use your shaving brush, smell the account books you maintained....feeling your presence your touch and smell in it...just pray that the smell doesn't wear off ...please stay in some form...just to give me the strength to stand....to take my step... to move on...life is way too tough alone...but as my uncle said, "A man is born, after his father passes away!' I see a lot of meaning in that.
Things haven't been and never will be the same now that you are not with us.As a doctor, whenever I saw people facing death, suffering and writhing in pain, living a morbid life and waiting for death to call them,I always dreaded it could be me seeing my father suffer like this. Death is inevitable but its only the angels who fly off to heaven, the rest wait their turn suffering and waiting for it to come.You always were an angel and I am glad the same was proven when you left us.
Time will change a lot of things - many say time heals,I don't think anything heals.....we just learn a way to live with the change.All I want is just come to us,Papa,when we really need you....come in some form... in some way...just a flutter in the air would be enough to let us know that you are around...that would give us the strength enough to take the next step...

Hand of God!

Change of place and terror of using the right words to write trivia is what kept me from coming back to sweet,salt and bitter.But then it just takes a millisecond of a magnetic happening in my life to makes me rush to this iron board to spill my thoughts out.

I don't know if any of you believe in karma,fate and the hand of God.....(I use the phrase because its so suited in the football fever!).I am not too much into spirituality and before you can deduce that I probably fall on spirits and wines in moments of gloom,well,I don't indulge in that pleasure either...But an incident yesterday, really made me feel that there is the Hand of God and his watchful eyes on troubled souls and so here I am talking of it.

I just finished my operations and was heading back home having the satisfaction of made a couple of people's lives a bit better not knowing that my own life was going to be in troubled waters and I mean that literally...Entering into an empty, soulless house (my family just left for home and so the string of pathos in the adjectives that I use..)and did the most normal thing that 1 million people all over the world want to do after coming back... wash my hands.. and lo..panic gripped me when I saw the tap looking as if it had suffered a sudden stroke and landed into unrevivable paraplagia..not a drop flowing down.Panic,fear and all the negative emotions known to man thought of being friendly to me that very moment and I was in doldrums on what to do....it may appear not to be so alarming but it was a saturday......friday and saturday out here in this alien country are the times when even the birds don't chirp because its an official holiday!You aren't allowed to die on these two days because ...cmon.... its a holiday!

So where would I get a soul to find pity on this thirsty,panic stricken human..Anyway, once in water, you got to make an effort to save yourself from drowning (even the metaphors are related to water.. gosh!), so off i treaded along to the hospital administration to pull me out of this quicksand.But what  awaited me there was no mystery.Just a single person in the company of vacant seats around him sat there giving me what-the hell-are -you-doing-here-on-a-holiday look.I got on with the watery saga looking at him as if he was my knight in shinig armour.His reply was just two words "its saturday", enough to make me feel guilty that I had taken a saturday to run my taps dry!

And so I returned to the soulless and now drought struck house borrowing the keys of my friendly neighbour to use his toilet when nature calls (and it sure calls more often when you least want it to!).Resigning to my fate and cursing the water company, I got on with cooking and eating lunch when I had all but decided to rest the aching legs, the door bell rang.
The bell hardly rings in my house except when the garbage is due to be collected in the evening....so wondering who it could be ....I opened the door and BEHOLD....there stands my apartment maintenance incharge standing to ask me if I have any problem......I could almost see a crown with the halo around him and would not have minded accepting him as Lord Krishna, if he had said that .......he is anyway pretty close to being a Godly figure having a name of Mohammed.I just could not believe this stroke of luck.......on a saturday,I have the person whom I have been desparately wanting to meet standing at my door asking me for any complaints without me even writing one.He said it was a routine check.......I was zapped! I just poured out my problem even before I took a breath as I didnt want this to be a dream........ and even if it was let the water flow,Lord, before thy vanish from my sight!!!He heard and he left and the next time I opened the taps, the water was gushing and puffing like a wild boar through the tap...........can't really attribute this stroke of luck to anything else but............. THE HAND OF GOD! 

Can We Tolerate a PADOSAN?

Its a Sunday - a lazy beginning to the routine.I just played some old music to add to the lazy mood and the evergreen songs of Padosan were filling the quietness of my apartment.The thoughts went back to the movie and how the magic of some movies fails to diminish with time.They have the diamond touch....time just makes it more priceless.
Also,I was led to think if the same movie could have stood the test of current times.A movie which has got all the ingredients for success - humour,entertainment,nice music - would surely have got lots of brickbats if its release happened in 2010.A pig tailed south indian,played by a muslim Mehmood, would have not been allowed to get accolades and laughs ........in fact nothing that the movie has gained would have been possible.The magic would be lost in discussions at the Big Fights and Face the Nation shows of the so called premier news channels of the country.There would be media frenzy and the tamil political force would be all over the press and tv baring their fangs at the movie which makes a "mockery" of the dravidian culture .......the actor would be slapped with a number of cases against him from hurting religious sentiments to being anti national and would be running for cover trying to escape it all giving interviews and issuing public statements of apology.There would be widespread demonstration for stopping the movie.....time and public property would be damaged in bringing down the cinema halls and loads of sms campaigns would be trying to make a quick buck asking people to sms silly yes or no answers (as if it would solve the problem!!) about the the insensitivity of the moviemaker or something like that.No doubt the movie would have made a good deal of money with all the controversy and the producer would surely have had the last laugh but the sole purpose for which Padosan was made would be lost.......there would be no joy or entertainment.......just charred remains of hurt, anger and dissent would be left for discussion.

This is the new us......an intolerant human force....which like the 6 blind men trying to imagine each part of the elephant's body as per their imagination never managed to appreciate the beauty of the elephant.....we just keep reading between the lines and never try to understand what is really being said!
The makers of Padosan were just lucky not to have the current crop of mean politicians and the likes of Raj Thakerey as their padosi (neighbours) or else a gem in the collection of classic movies would not have retained its sheen and lustre!

ABOUT 3 MORE IDIOTS...

First of all, a very happy new year to all..Don't know if happiness is so easy to usher in by just changing the year but then it is a thought and practice carried out for so long and carries a positive vibe, worthy of being spread and passed on.
I had my family with me for the holidays and it surely brought a lot of joy and happiness meeting each other after a gap of 4 long months......especially for my little darling daughter,who I feel ,is unknowingly sacrificing the most in this decision of mine to take up the job at Port Blair.The worst thing about the holidays is that they end and make life more tough because you have just started romancing and getting to love it more and more when it suddenly moves away.So, my wife and kid moved back to their routine last Sunday and I returned to mine.......and just to keep that smile on my face stuck for some time more, I got a pirated dvd of "3 idiots" to watch; instead of cursing the time for passing by so early.
The movie is no doubt good and very enjoyable which every person who has led a life in hostel would surely associate with.I could draw a lot of parallels with my life in the medical college hostel where I spent almost 8 years of my life.I just got transported to the year 1993 when four words on a piece of telegram changed my life forever.It said : Selected for MBBS course.......
After the initial joy and partying,I remember moving out on 27th July,1993 from Pune with my father to join the course.We reached the college after a long and tiring journey and though I was nervous and scared like a wet cat to enter into the new world of being alone and catering for myself,I was nevertheless determined to go through it.After getting over with some paperwork, I was asked to undergo the medical examination which was being conducted in the physiology lab.And there, I saw a glimpse of my batchmates who would get embedded in my memory later as the guys who came as boys and girls and walked off the same college with a prefix to their name : DOCTOR- one word which carries a lot of trust and hope for every human on this earth.

My first medical check was quite a disaster.Don't know why, but my blood was under too much pressure and shooting and the doc who examined me checked twice and then asked me to rest and not to get tensed as this was a routine affair.Fortunately, the blood stopped being a cooker and the pressure came under control in some time.The next check really caught me off pants.........the surgeon wanted me to bare my nuts, a routine test done to check for conditions like hydrocoele and hernias which I learned later...but at that point of time, it was something shameful for me.......I was caught unawares but I had no option but to let my genitals get molested by the surgeon :(
And there as I was zipping myself feeling like a rape victim,I met the first idiot of my story.....Pravin Salunke,Salu for short......... jeans,shirt,finger combing his hair and acting more like a bollywood wannabe than a wannabe doctor......I moved on...The torture soon ended and the check ups were over and I was finally admitted as a first year doc to be....a dream come true..
We entered the hostel after 15 days of "Orientation" (a silly idea of the college authorities to make the new kids on the block stay in an ashram and get to know the Gandhian way of living.....surely  an extended party for all the fuchchas) We never learned anything Gandhian but had loads of fun in his name and got to know each other a bit better.
As we got our bags ready, we all felt like a chick coming out of the egg shell with no idea of what lay ahead .It was more scary than I had imagined and as the bus dropped us at the entrance of the hostel,I had  a feeling of getting caught by the enemies as prisoner of war. And the same was the feeling felt by all the guys with me........some more and some less but nevertheless all shaking in their pants.Myself and the Shahrukh look alike Pravin turned out to be neighbours and all we could do was sit in the room and wait for the clock to tick till it was finally time for dinner.Like slaves in a prison,we formed a queue and started with our first ragging act of banging our plates with the spoon all the way to the mess.We had also shaved our mouchtaches and the third button on our shirt was red, as instructed by the ragging inc.

We were then in for a long haul of ragging, some pleasant and some  not "decent" enough to be mentioned here, but enjoyable nonetheless.As the time passed, the ragging became fun and we started gelling with the seniors and batchmates alike.We jumped like frogs all over the hostel rooftops,had midnight campfires on the rooftops to celebrate birthdays and gave birthday bumps throughout the night while the intricate biochemistry charts and scary anatomy books waited for us to come and give them their due respect.It was a party never willing to end.
And the anatomy class brought in the forefront another idiot of my story...Vikrant Pulliwar,Pulli for short......a lean,fairly tall, spectacled dude who no matter what the time of the day had to keep his hairstyle intact and would spare no effort to do so. Anatomy was like taught to him in the womb....he could tell all the attachments of the muscles and the course of the arteries as if he were inside the body and tracing their path! And there was one more thing which he was known for ..........his STINKING SOCKS! In dearth of any anasthetic agent,they were surely "ram baan" to make a person faint! No exageration there....
Study wasn't easy.....seeing the body with which we were born, in a totally different perspective and learning the art of being a healer from a sufferer took around 5 years of our life.But what kept the wit,smiles and joys alive all this time was the friendship and pranks we 3 idiots had together.We hailed from Nagpur, Bombay and Delhi and once,for the holidays, we just planned to visit each other's house together and see the places too.We shopped at fashion street in Bombay and managed to convince the hunk among the 3 of us....Salu... to buy a short tight T shirt and make him get into that in the sulabh shauchalaya  to flaunt his muscles on the street.When we reached home and his sister saw him in the attire,she burst into splits of laughter and then she educated us that we had landed up buying an undersized female top for our muscle man which he flaunted all over Mumbai........We even have a picture of him in that........

Time has passed and we are now in different streams - Pravin is a Neurosurgeon, Pulli is an Orthopaedic Surgeon and well I became and Otolaryngologist (ENT Surgeon).But the smiles and fun have never failed to cross our faces when we reflect on the past...........thanks to the 3 IDIOTS ........3 more idiots have managed to relive their past!

1984 - THROUGH MY EYES

I was just watching this documentaryon NDTV 24x7, on the riots of 1984 and the story of an australian lady married to a sikh and their life thereafter.When everyone is reminescing those gory days in the silver jublee year of the mishap, I can't help but reflect on the same time in my life.

I was practically brought up in Delhi, my father having moved in there in 1978, following his transfer.We moved into a house in West Delhi, an area called Janak Puri and I still remember the house in every detail. Green and blue walls in the two rooms that we had and a small kitchen which my mother, who is passionate about neatness and order, had arranged  in the most user friendly way possible.We were admitted into a popular school nearby and life just seemed the way it should be with four of us in the family playing our roles to perfection.

It was October 31,1984, and doordarshan was the only channel available.We came back from school and there was a rumour that something had happened to Mrs.Indira Gandhi.She was killed - "assasinated" was not a term very popular then because the only assasination that we knew till then was of the Mahatma.I was 10 years old and only thing on my mind was -hopefully I wont have to attend school the next day.My parents had been trying to know more  by catching the news on the radio but all that they could gather was that Mrs.Gandhi was shot at and critical.

At 6 pm, my father switched on the the black and white "Crown" tv we had with us and we all were gazing at the now very famous logo of doordarshan beginning to roll on the screen.And then the news began and the news reader finally confirmed the death of Mrs.Gandhi.We kids were glad that the holiday was confirmed.But how long the holiday would extend and that it would be embedded in the memory as the worst nightmare was not something we knew.
As the night approached, the mood got darker.The rumour got thicker that Hindus were angry at the happening and the Sikhs were in danger of being attacked. But the mind always thinks that such news and violence are not something that you would become a victim of.And so we thought this would be something we would read in the newspaper the next day and everything would pass off.But it was not to be.
It was a bright sunny day but we had no clue of the dark clouds that would hover on us later that day. I think, it was around 10:30 am when we started hearing the shouts and a cacaphony of voices with a lot of anger in it.I remember my mother immediately making efforts to check that all the latches were secure. We were in a locality where we had bungalows in a circle and a park inbetween where we used to play. It was an area dominated by Sikhs and there were lots of Sikh families in the houses around us.I still remember vividly a group of people attacking the first house in the row opposite to ours on the right............ they broke open the gates and men started running away with VCRs and TVs , making the most of the oppurtunity in hand.And then the angry mob pulled out the Sikhs in the house holding them by their turbans and started beating them mercilessly.A mob has no mind of its own and so they were guided by the heat of the situation and in moments,the victims were bleeding from every part of the body.
In some time, the mob became uncontrollable and started searching for every house which had a sardar inside.Unfortunately, with the symbol of Sikhism adoring every house which they occupied, the task was only made easy for these rogues.In some time, we suddenly started seeing flames rising from the houses .......the houses were just mercilessly being burnt.........and suddenly there were blasts .....loud and ear shattering.......the mob had resorted to an easy way to set things on fire......they were opening the gas cylinders and setting fire.The number of houses in flames just kept increasing......the shrieks and cries for help and mercy were ringing in the air.......even as i write this, I can clearly hear those voices of pain and agony.Also, the sound of bursting cylinders became more and more frequent and we were told later that the Sikhs were being tied to the cylinder to make sure that they were killed along with the blasting cylinders.How true was this..is something I never came to know .......and would never like to know because the devil is not what I want to remember any human being as.
One particular sight I clearly remember, is that of the house of the Handas which was close to the market area being attacked.The lady of the house was on the terrace with a cordless phone in her hand and kids of my age with her and shouting "bachao... humein maaf kar do..in bachchon ko maaf kar do" while the mob with no feelings set the house and curtains in flames........while her wails of pain and fear kept growing with the flames which wrapped their once beautiful house.
We were now experiencing real fear.My father asked my mother to pack all the money,jewellery and valuables in a small bag and all of us were holding each other fearing the worst to happen.We had suddenly and unknowingly become a part of one of the worst violence to hit Delhi.God had mercy and we realised it that day when the mob moved away after 12 long hours but somehow we were left untouched.
We faced fear and violence in the bare naked form........and believe me its not something anyone wants to face or recall.
Time has passed and 25 years down the memory lane .....I see that many wounds have healed......the houses have been reconstructed with no evidence of the damage done.........but the scars of the wound remain hidden deep inside ............forever!

THIS CHAIWALA IS NO SLUMDOG.......BUT SURE HAS A MILLIONAIRE'S HEART!

Life has different ways and means of teaching you a lesson.And for me this time its came from a chaiwala whom I have befriended in this alien island of Port Blair. Its become a daily routine to have tea at his stall since the day I discovered this chaiwala at the clock tower, a prominent landmark in the Aberdeen bazaar here. Its a small inconspicuous stall at a very prominent location. The place is most frequented by the traffic policemen who are stationed there and dont mind a tea to keep their spirits high and keep them tuned to their tough job.
The first time I was introduced to the shop by my good friend, Dr.Rajeev, I was hardly impressed by it.But the moment I tasted the vadas,which had an alcohol like addictive taste to it, my opinion changed.Just the right taste and no dripping oil in the preparation and it requires a really strong will to save oneself from stopping at eating just one. Me and my friend are yet to succeed in that effort till now.
A couple of visits and the chaiwala started recognising me and besides the tasty wadas and hot tea there was always a happy smile greeting me.Unfortunately, I am not the first to make the move in most conversations and so it was the chaiwala who broke the ice in my next visit.As usual the talk started with the question of what do i do. And once I blurted that I was a doctor, his smile travelled from ear to ear and the predictable question of how I landed up in this island was followed by my well rehearsed answer.Reciprocating the gesture, I asked how long had he been doing the job.He didnt exactly remember the years but said it was more than 25 years since he got into it. And then he said with his warm smile, if all become doctors and engineers who will be left to cater to the basic need of food and hunger. More than what he said it was the fact that he was doing his job with pride and dedication which attracted me. He told that his daily chore begins at 3 am grinding the batter for the vadas and the hot idlis for the early morning breakfast. The day continues with the serving  of hundreds of cups of tea and coffee, rejuvinating the people of Port Blair to get back to their work. He has been following the same routine with no regrets and has mastered the art of  handing every cup with a smile on his face although he has no perishable paper degree to certify his expertise  in hotel management.
Many flock the shop for his tasty delicacies but what is different is that there is no accounting of the vadas you eat or the number of cups of tea you gulp down. He just serves you his preparation with a smile. In fact, you can just pick up what yours taste buds demand and as many as you like. He trusts the customer on his word and charges only for what the customer says.But no one cheats, all pay........thats the reward his trust and dedication brings, I guess. There is a strong bond  this guy shares with a panwala and another associate of his, who run the shop as a trio.The Ambani brothers have a lot to learn from these guys because they reveal a simple trick to make the business tick - friendship and trust- two words which dont knock at the Ambani house.
My first cup of tea and coffee was complimentary from him but since then it has been more for his smile and hospitality and  the inspiration for working with dedication and happiness which draws me to my favourite chaiwala. I think it this spirit which trickles into his vada and tea, and brings all and sundry in this small island to the clock tower to taste it, at least once a day. His conversations with every visitor are no more than a few routine questions about the well being, but they lift up my spirits enough to make me move into the next day with a wish to emulate this chaiwala in my job, as I deal with the sick people who flock my OPD.Surely, this chailwala is no slumdog..........and serves more than just tea and vadas!

ANALYSIS OF A DEVELOPING NATION

Its another weekend in the room alone and away from my family (Its been almost two months since I moved into Andamans living the forced bachelor's life) and idle mind does come up with some sensible thoughts occassionally. I was just thinking that India is referred to by derogatory words like "third world" and "developing nation" but  there are certain aspects where this country and its people have made really fast advances. For one, the communication sector. Its been around 20 years since the communication wave started to build and we almost have every part of the country connected with the cell phones now. I am in fact, right now far away from the heart of the country in a teeny weeny island in the Indian Ocean and writing this blog with a small modem to keep me wired to the cyberspace.So, how come on one hand we have a farmer who is commiting suicide not having enough money to cater to the basic needs of his family while at the same time ,we also have a rickshaw wallah pulling out a mobile and listening to FM and talking to his near and dear ones while he goes around with the daily chore.
I guess the answer lies in the effort of the government and also the mindset of the people. Competition creates the best oppurtunities for the needy and that sure has helped in bringing the call rates from astronomically high costs in the past to less than a rupee for long distance telephony in the present. The entrance of the private sector surely makes the competition tough as the rates have to be kept low to make the service attractive and simultaneously one has to maintain high quality of service so that the faith in the company and the product stays on.
Now for the mindset of the people.I don't know if its a world phenomenon or a man thing- but gadgets have a thing to impress. You want to use and fiddle with every new mobile handset that you see. A man may not have learnt the numerics in school but he would make no mistake in quoting the right number of the nokia model in the market. I guess gadgets have some x factor like the females. You may not own it but you will not forget to notice it- I guess that's a universal truth for females and gadgets.I guess because of this fetish for gadgets, every man (who in most of the households decides where the money is spent) builds up enough to invest in the purchase of a mobile phone irrespective of his need or earnings.
Another thing which has an omnipresence is the video and cd industry.The technology in the tv and video industry has changed manifolds- with first the vcps,vcrs, video cds and now dvds. But be it village or a city,all have kept up to the times. You will get the pirated movies in all the latest formats in every nook and corner of India with the availability of the latest player for putting it to use. Its all because of the common man's deep rooted interest in getting the latest with the times in entertainment which makes this possible.
So, my idle mind thinks that two key things to make progress happen are : desire and interest.The mobile and dvd industry are sureshot proof that if we put our desire and interest together, we can achieve a lot.But unfortuntely, the two feelings are restricted to very few aspects of life and that leaves us tagged as "developing" nations. Till we develop the desire and interest in every field of life,we can only be considered as "developing" nation and that is one tag we shall find very difficult to get rid off.

THE TWITTER SONG!

Just thought of saying it in rhyme

what news channels are airing all the time

mr. tharoor used the twitter

but alas for him, all went bitter

using the word "cattle class"

has pricked his life like shreds of glass

tharoor thought it was just a tweet

but his party didnt find it sweet

still dont know what happens next

but mr.tharoor please mind your text!

My take on the INDIAN SWINE FLU!

The thoughts below are purely original (I swear!).ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANY PERSON OR ANIMAL, LIVING OR DEAD, IS PURELY INTENTIONAL.
Has anyone ever wondered why the swine flu not start in India and how come it spread so fast once it was here.
Com'on guys,what's there to wonder!There are enough swines in both human and animal forms in this country which probably made the flu think of another destination to get noticed and once it was here.... with so many swines (more human than animal),from politics to workplace already on their job,it took just a jiffy for the numbers to mount!
Ain't I right??? :)

The Conversational SMS!

Its been ages since I posted something on this blog, the reason being ...........hmmmm...... there is none actually....as we say in hindi बस ऐसे ही. To think of it, there are so many words and phrases that we use so routinely in hindi which to go by the meaning of it really doesn't mean anything but conveys the message to the person involved in conversation.
Let me try to put some of them here....
In Delhi one of the most common words that friends use everytime they meet is ...और (aur) which means "and" but then actually means " what's new in life? "
The answer to this by a dilliwala would be "बस" (bas) which really means "enough" but stands to convey " everything's fine".
Another common way of starting any sentence almost always is with " अच्छा" (acchha) which anyone knowing a bit of hindi would know means good but it is actually a way to take a breather to organise your thoughts before conveying them. A favourite word of those desirous of using english in their conversation but still are miles from knowing it well is "means". I can't really tell what they intend to convey by using it, but it definitely tells the other guy that there is still a lot of hardwork required before his friend can sail on the sea of english language.
So,I guess every language has some of the SMS lingo involved in the regular talk and not all the credit can be taken by the invention of cellular phones......don't you think so?

PINK SLIPS REQUIRED ....PLEASE!

In times of recession, everybody is talking about cost cutting and saving what they have. I still see a lot of things which no one seems to be talking about but which, in my individual opinion, has nothing to do with growth and can really be put in the background for a while.
Lets start with the game that Indians just can't stop talking about- CRICKET. I really see no difference in the Casinos of LA and the T 20 matches of India - both have something to do with addiction and wastage of money.At least in the casinos, one honestly accepts there is a splurge of money and no one calls it a game of "national importance". Is it not criminal to waste BIG money on individuals playing with bat and ball while every person from Chichpokhli to China is busy trying to generate some cash.
One game that I have never failed to understand is GOLF. I really see nothing logical or interesting in wasting time and large acres of land in trying to put a SMALL ball in an even SMALLER hole situated somewhere in an expanse of a 100 acres!! ABSURD is what I think of this game. Don't those who protest against the SEZ and cry about it eating up the farmer's land think its more of a wastage to let go large acres for such a meaningless sport.
And surely, one sport which has meant only loss in terms of fuel and lives is GRAND PRIX. I don't think any activity which means a meaningless waste of fuel for some Tom, Dick and Harry's passion for speed deserves any sort of recognition and infact, in my opinion, should be declared unlawful . And just think of the number of people who have shamelessly lost their lives trying to follow their dream (rather nightmare!) racing the manmade animals of iron and steel.
I think a fewPINK SLIPS if passed to the above sports can surely save some money in these troubled times!

Slumdog Thinking!

The whole world is talking about the "slumdog" from India and so naturally I can't resist writing something about it. I think we need to give the whole credit to the American director for having thought of making a movie written by an Indian, based in India and totally done in Bollywood style.After all, how many directors can we think of, from India, who can go to France and make a movie almost fully in French and win the hearts of the people with it.I don't think anyYash Chopra or an Ashitosh Gowarikar would even dare. And even if they did, they would not win the same accolades because the world abroad is a a biased place.Can you imagine a movie called SLUMDOG AMERICA madeby an Indian,making it big in the Oscar circuit and working its way up to getting some 10 nominations in the Academy??? I think we are still a nice 50 years away from something like that happening in this world.
That apart... I have not much positives to talk about this film and the filmmaker.There is really nothing different in this movie for it to be talked about so much. It has the same masala of puppy love, brothers separating to take the good and evil paths and love reigning supreme in the end...........it has BOLLYWOOD written all over...and every Indian has seen this story on the screen and pirated cds and dvds sometime in their lives.Now about the music.... well its good and nice but please... we have heard something closely similar in Khalnayak (just hear ringa ringa and compare it with choli ke peeche). And Rehman has done far better work in his life which did not get noticed earlier because he made it for Indians and for an Indian director.
I am more angry at the fact that a much much better and sensitive movie,Taare Zameen Par(TZP), lost out in the race much earlier because it was an Indian Khan and not an American Boyle who directed it. I bet by now all of you would have seen TZP and I am sure all of you ended up choked and moist eyed at the end of the movie.
Dear judges of the Academy,don't you think a movie which moves you so and makes you think twice before you scold your kid for not doing well in the exams deserves a tag of Oscar rather than some SLUMDOG running in shit to catch an autograph of Superstar Amitabh.I guess, its the slumdog attitude of the Academy of Motion Pictures which makes them appreciate David Boyle's work. They relate the slums and underdevelopment, poverty and cheating to India and when that is shown on the screen.........well, thats worth all the appreciation for them.
I really want your response to this thought. Please don't be silent readers of my blog and do leave a few comments -sweet, salt and bitter... all are welcome :)

Budget : Lalu style!

Ten Things Indians Can Do Without!

I was just sitting idle the other day and one thought that suddenly came to me was what is it about us Indians that puts us apart.Well, the mind kept ticking and I then realised there were quite a few things which makes us what we are.
1. Our obsession with the colour white. I don't know what it is with us but the moment we see anyone with fair skin we start oggling and salivating like a hungry dog does on seeing a bone.I think most species have only hatred associated with colour of the skin of people, but for us it is different and that sure puts us apart.
2. Our second obsession is with covering everything .Where in the world would you find so many varieties of sofa covers,dining table covers, car seat covers,remote covers, washing machine covers,TV covers, covers for cell phones..... you name it and we have a cover ready for it.No matter whether we use it or not, WE HAVE TO COVER IT (except for one thing which if covered while at work would do something really good to control the population... sorry for being a bit cheeky ;)) In fact, I think we have more varieties of the covers rather than the product itself.
3. We love BURPING! And the louder it is, the more satisfying it is. I don't know why the person next to you has to suffer because of your passion for food.
4. And this one is thanks to the men alone........ the habit of grabbing their twin jewels in public!The beard and the face isn't enough to let the people know your sex, the signature act is.... the "ball-grabbing" act!
5. And all know kiss and piss story..... no to kissing but yes to pissing in public..... in fact the Indian male bladder is almost passionate about emptying itself in public!
6. Who can forget our obsession with loudspeakers anytime we think of God. I guess, we leave no stones unturned to make God HEAR us. Its almost like making God listen to you at gun point. The less the melody in the voice of the "devotee", the louder the music has to be.
7.This one sure is a thumbs up for the Indians.Our celebration of marriages in the grandest possible way like no one else.Thanks to the likes of Suraj Barjatya and Yash Chopra the big loud and pompous Indian wedding is known all over now and may be that plays a part in making the marriages last longer than most places in the world.
8.We have an uncanny knack at picking habits and accents. It would take a decade for an American to get the Indian accent, but it just requires a few hours of interaction with an American for us to catch the American accent and to love their pastas and pizzas.... :)
9. We know how to litter well. Be it India or America, we always mark our zone with loads of litter and filth. I guess that's what has played a major part in developing immunity to diseases in India.
10. Well lastly, I guess its the habit of making a mockery of anything Indian that contributes ironically to us being Indians.That's true for me and I proved it by writing this write up....:)
Whatever be it..... the bottom line is .. MERE BHARAT MEIN HAIN SAB PARESHAAN PAR PHIR BHI HUM KAHEIN : MERA BHARAT MAHAAN!

Happy New Year!

Its that time of the year when all the channels on TV are busy getting all their old clippings in line and setting up a list to show over and over again calling it the best and the worst of 2008. Actually, I guess this is the time when the news channels have to do least research and lie back and enjoy the new year as there is hardly much to think and show for at least a couple of days till something new and big comes along.

On a more serious note, I think a few names which were never heard of till last year, but now would ring a bell anytime they are mentioned would be :

Abhinav Bindra who got India the sole Olympic medal, for which India should thank the richness of Abhinav's father to have been able to afford the world class training which could channelise the talent of this shooter

Vijender Singh :who has been showing his teeth and face more than his boxing arms since Beijing Olympics.

Saina Nehwal for making it into the top 10 of World Badminton Female Rankings

The now very famous phrase in the north " SINGH IS KING"

A new Khan  and a new Kapoor in Indian movies : Imran Khan & Ranbir Kapoor

Aamir Khan gave barbers a reason to cheer : the new ghajini cut set their cash registers ringing though it is still to become clear whether the movie does the same for the producer.

An infamous Ajmal Kasab : whom the Pakistanis won't own and the Indians can't pardon

I guess its been a mixture of good and bad just like all the other years in the past but as usual we will talk and make a big hu-ha about it. The new year is not going to change the universe, but just brings in the hope that it would make the world a slightly more tolerable place to live in.

Happy New Year To All!