The flutter in being an Indian, and, a Mumbaikar...
It doesnt hit you always, the patriotism-feel, does it? And when it hits, it does hard. Very hard. Traumatising, Saddening and Unforgettable images etch in mind reminding you of your nation, of who you are to this soil.
Sitting in the rickshaw today, my thoughts were streaming one after the another.....
"What if this rick gets blown up now?
Will I live to see my love once more and tell him that the petty fights or arguments don't matter, but our life together does and he is the best guy I have ever known in my world.
Will I be able to hug my family and let them know that no matter how much they haul abuses at me for not being caring enough towards them, I still love them the most.
Will I hear the voice of every friend of mine ever again to crack a joke at their expense as always and apologise sheepishly saying I love them a lot.
More importantly, will I live enough to pay the fare of this ride and walk into my office, greeting my ever smiling watchman...."
"Madam, pahunch gaye....Saatth (60) rupaye...Chutta do..mere pass nahii hai"
I literally wanted to hug the auto-wallah..(He could have fainted, if I did..poor chap) Thanked him lot many times, and went on, "Bhaiyya, desh humaara hai. Kissi aur ko itni jaldi thodne nahii denge." Confused soul. He smiled back, "Darr humein bhi hai madam, par zindagi kahan rukne waali hai...Aur mumbai toh apna jagah hai. Aaaj kuch khoye, kal saath rahein toh waapas paa bhi lenge"
True Indian..True Mumbaikar.. Jai Hind!!
May all souls rest in peace who are victimised in the blood-shed on 27/11/2008 and following. Amen.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
urge to break-out...
I yearn to break free, to break-out in rains, lest those pearls get stolen by piercing eyes,Its the inner breath, raring to lead its way out, when will you let me, O' ruthless world?
I do not want to be loved, do not want to be cared for, not to be thought of,
Let me break away, break-out for once..
Shy lights, stare down on me, sneering endlessly, mocking me, leaving me to die,
Its unbearable, ah! the pain so deep. Can't get over it, don't want to come out of it, maybe?
Words cease to come, Music stops at a note, I look up, sneers continue,
My heart doesn't speak anymore, neither cry, nor smile, does it?
Let me out, Let me free. Its what it appears, letters on fire.
The difference hurts your eyes, but the pain, I can stand no more.
I do not want to be loved, do not want to be cared for, not to be thought of,
Let me break away, break-out for once..
Monday, November 17, 2008
Adiga's White Tiger + My Roomie's Love Letter
Strange, as I got my hands on both together..The first on self-spent money (came cheap) and the second, flew into my hands (was expensive!).
Adiga, a man of nerves, I would say...Though he starts off as my most non-cherished writer, CB*, he makes it a worth-while read for amateurs,A booker sweep. (Last I heard, Rushdie was flushing himself down somewhere..."What the heck man, I though only complicated ones win Booker. They werent supposed to be understood!!" Hee haww...thanks Mr. Rushdie for the joke at ur expense!)
Not quarter as sophisticated as his predecessors, Adiga really hits the note with simple and dark writing. Lame and rudimentary at places, he still manages to keep the reader half-hooked to his Tiger.(Note: My other half was hooked to my roomie L*'s love-letter/break-up letter/scare letter/apology letter to her family-loving mate, P*.)
Adiga didnt leave me gasping for more, like L*'s letter did, thanks to her amazing word power ! Words that flow out from a Chopra's scriptwriter's hand for a "Mujhse Dosti Karoge" was completely all over her 6-paged saga..
"I dream of us being together for years, celebrating all our birthdays and anniversaries together, me waking up early morning at 6 (she was precise about the time, she still wakes up at 6.Practicing hard.)making tea for you, my daddy, your daddy, my mummy, your mummy.(I wonder why did she not include their dog Snuffy too...forethought!)" and blah-blah-blah-blah...till in evening, "I will wait by the dinner table trying to avoid sleep waiting for u to come back from office.." Phew ! are my girl-friends listening? Time to accept that Saas-Bahu epics are working their ways hard into minds of young, savvy, nymphets too...
And the five pages went on with lil-wil mushy-pushy dreams...until the last.That was my eye-pop-opener dahlings (this bloody word is thanks to Bombay Times)!!!
"I dreamt of all this endlessly, until I realised that u r finding me unlucky for u, and hence I think I wan2 break up...coz I cannot be unlucky for u...I always wanted to be lucky..I respect ur family, but u think I hate them..I dont really mind u spending money on them, but then, u think otherwise...dont think its going places.. Bye P*,,,urs forever, loved u a lot, L*..."
the page put the former pages in past-tense, i realised later...things are falling into place now...Why L* happily holds hands with her new mate Y* and trolls off every evening till late... but then, P* was just few weeks ago.......Never mind, Adiga, Ur White Tiger Rocks man !! It kept me sane through to this morning atleast !
Strange, as I got my hands on both together..The first on self-spent money (came cheap) and the second, flew into my hands (was expensive!).
Adiga, a man of nerves, I would say...Though he starts off as my most non-cherished writer, CB*, he makes it a worth-while read for amateurs,A booker sweep. (Last I heard, Rushdie was flushing himself down somewhere..."What the heck man, I though only complicated ones win Booker. They werent supposed to be understood!!" Hee haww...thanks Mr. Rushdie for the joke at ur expense!)
Not quarter as sophisticated as his predecessors, Adiga really hits the note with simple and dark writing. Lame and rudimentary at places, he still manages to keep the reader half-hooked to his Tiger.(Note: My other half was hooked to my roomie L*'s love-letter/break-up letter/scare letter/apology letter to her family-loving mate, P*.)
Adiga didnt leave me gasping for more, like L*'s letter did, thanks to her amazing word power ! Words that flow out from a Chopra's scriptwriter's hand for a "Mujhse Dosti Karoge" was completely all over her 6-paged saga..
"I dream of us being together for years, celebrating all our birthdays and anniversaries together, me waking up early morning at 6 (she was precise about the time, she still wakes up at 6.Practicing hard.)making tea for you, my daddy, your daddy, my mummy, your mummy.(I wonder why did she not include their dog Snuffy too...forethought!)" and blah-blah-blah-blah...till in evening, "I will wait by the dinner table trying to avoid sleep waiting for u to come back from office.." Phew ! are my girl-friends listening? Time to accept that Saas-Bahu epics are working their ways hard into minds of young, savvy, nymphets too...
And the five pages went on with lil-wil mushy-pushy dreams...until the last.That was my eye-pop-opener dahlings (this bloody word is thanks to Bombay Times)!!!
"I dreamt of all this endlessly, until I realised that u r finding me unlucky for u, and hence I think I wan2 break up...coz I cannot be unlucky for u...I always wanted to be lucky..I respect ur family, but u think I hate them..I dont really mind u spending money on them, but then, u think otherwise...dont think its going places.. Bye P*,,,urs forever, loved u a lot, L*..."
the page put the former pages in past-tense, i realised later...things are falling into place now...Why L* happily holds hands with her new mate Y* and trolls off every evening till late... but then, P* was just few weeks ago.......Never mind, Adiga, Ur White Tiger Rocks man !! It kept me sane through to this morning atleast !
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