Imagine something you have been doing for thirty five years at a stretch. First thing that comes to mind is that it requires lot of patience and concentration. Now add to it continuous separation from your family for extended periods of time, sometimes hostile and most of the times uninteresting working conditions. The work itself is unrewardingly thankless. Pay just enough for bare survival and feeding of the family of five. Add to this again three demanding children, bright in some ways. Life would definitely be easier if they just meant to be fed and brought up. But it definitely requires a lot of willpower to believe that they are meant for something special, can do better than the average. This belief and will power is one of the things that get the desired effect. It is like the egg and chicken problem. Are kids bright by birth, or the hardwork and belief of their parents make them so. This is a different debate, but I belong to the side which says the way parents bring them up matters a lot. They mean expenditure, emotional, time wise and financial. Life would really be easier if it were not so. But it is a choice you make.
And make a choice he did, fast forward twenty years or so and here are the results. One engineer and two doctors are the most visible things. But they are just trophies at the twilight of two dedicated lives. Behind it lies a barren landscape of hurt tears, numerous sacrifices each one big like Himalayas. The world threw all its problems and it was replied by a sacrifice bigger than the problem. The problem finally was shamed into submission and the day won. Just to sleep for a few hours before next day brings a bigger problem. I know that this is not extra-ordinary. It may be rare but not definitely a never done thing.But this one was for us, hence it matters a lot.
A typical day used to start at 4.30 in the morning, waking up and getting ready for 5.00 am tuition of mathematics and physics. It will go on till 6.30. By then food and lunch box will be ready. The kids will wake up and the only family meals together . We preferred to eat at 6.30 early mornings just to feel together. This was followed by a 19 KM ride on a bicycle to the school where he used to teach. Teach maths which is his own subject as well as science because the teacher is not there. You would expect certain looseness after the ordeal of getting up at the godforsaken hours and running private tuitions of your own. But the results speak for themselves. Before he joined that school in Nalgir, there was not a single SSC passout in ten years. But within 7-10 years of working, maths and science, the bane of rural students, used to get 80%-100% of results.
Even if those days were hard, we were really happy together. We never missed our visits to nearby theatres,twice a week. Very few of our wishes were denied. I still remember borrowing money on 100% monthly interest rate for my school-trip to forts in Maharashtra. This was how important money was to us then. Dada one day nearly drowned in a sudden flash-flood while cycling the 19KMs from Nalgir. Aai and he, both were drying the 50 RS notes whole night, around 900 Rs, his salary then which he was carrying . This was how important money was to us then. None of the needy relatives went away without some help. Moreover we never ever spread our hands in front of our wealthy relatives. We enjoyed those days to the fullest, worked as hard as we could and more than that and was prudent like hell. He used to correct SSC state examination papers for the additional income it used to provide in summer vacations. We used to have unwanted visitors almost on daily basis who wanted to increase the marks of their wards and used to offer sizeable amount of money for doing so. None of them was successful but more importantly, none of them was turned away before they were offered a cold glass of Ruh-Afza OR Rasna. This was how much money was important to us then.
Worse was the time when he used to be posted away and used to visit us weekly once or twice. He was torn between the urge to be with us and do duty and earn money. They had decided that he will concentrate on earning for the family and Aai will look after us. There were lot of easy way out: such as we leaving Udgir/Latur to join him in the school he was teaching in OR Aai taking up a job so that the expenses are balanced. But they took some decisions and stuck to them through thick and thin. Those may not be the only right decisions that could be made, maybe too strict and dangerous sometimes, but those were the right ones, at least for us.
Now that he is finished with his jobs and has retired, he is back to the things he loved most and cared about the most. Back with his family, back with his grandson. I know that he will get everything he sacrificed and he will get double the amount. I will be very glad and blindly entrust my son to his care. I think some values,even if they feel old-fashined are universal and do not change with time.
This is the part of the story everybody knows and appreciates. I am not here to tell that part, I am here to underline the role played by the other wheel. It is my Aai. She suffered and toiled twice as hard. Sacrificed inifinite times more. Studied with us. She had just her SSC degree when she got married. Studied and got BA and double MA. She used to study with us. One of the thing that amazes me about both of them is that they were never short on time. As we never missed our twice-a-week movies, she never missed her 6.30 AM lunch. Somehow it used be ready before the tuitions are over. She studied hard and passed all the exams, made sure she is in a position to get a job. And sacrificed it to concentrate on bringing us up. She was the backbone of our family in all the senses of the word. She provided stability by filling in where she thought she will fit the best. Used to take over the decision making role of Dada when he used to be posted away and like a backbone she was prudent and straight. I have a lot of shocking anecdotes about that. I sometimes remember them and feel really proud.
Dada had retirement celebration and got a send-off also. I am just taking this opportunity to congratulate Aai also on her retirement. She has her husband all for herself, maybe for the first time after her marriage. I know that this is going to increase the work for her. But I am sure she will not enjoy anything else more.
Happy retired life Aai.
Monday, December 11, 2006
आई रिटायर होतेय
कल्पना करा की तुम्ही एक गोष्ट पस्तिस वर्षे करताय. सर्वात महत्त्वाच म्हणजे यासाठी खुप जास्त धीर आणि एकाग्रता लागते. आता जर ती गोष्ट साध्य करण्यासाठी तुम्हाला कुटुम्बापासून नेहेमी दूर रहावे लागत असेल्, हाता-तोन्डाची गाठ होइल इतकाच तुटपुन्जा पगार मिळत असेल, तुम्ही केलेल्या उत्क्रूष्ट कामगीरीबद्दल जर कोणि तुमची पाठ थोपटण्याचीही तसदी घेत नसेल्, कुठेतरी सुदुर आदिवासी भागात आणि खेडेगावात काम करायला लागत असेल, जिथे मन लावून काम करणे अशक्य तर असतेच पण धोकादायक सुद्दा असते, तर ती गोष्ट हळु हळु खुपच अवघड होत जाते. पुन्हा त्यात तीन चुणुकदार वाटणारया मुलान्ची जबाबदारी म्हण्जे सर्व बाजुनी कोन्डमारा होत जातो. कारण आपण त्यान्च्या सन्गोपानामध्ये काही चुक तर करत नाहिये ना, त्याना सर्व सन्धी मिळतायात ना अशी टोचणी नेहमी मनाला लागलेली असते. खरेतर तो प्रत्येक कुटुम्बाचा निर्णय असतो, की महत्त्व कशाला द्यायचे. त्याच वेळी जर सुखसोयी हव्या असतील, हातात जास्त पैसा हवा असेल्, कुटुम्ब जवळ हवे असेल तर कुठेना कुठे याबाबतीत तडजोड करायला लागते. ही तड्जोड कधी करायची आणि कधी नाकारायची हा प्रत्येक कुटुम्बाचा निर्णय असतो.
दादानी देखील याबाबतीत निर्णय घेतला. आणि जर आपण चीत्रफीत विस वर्षे पुढे सरकावली तर आपल्याला त्या निर्णयाचा निकाल सुध्धा कळेल. दोन डाक्टर आणि एक इन्जिनीयर हा त्या निर्णयाचा निकाल आहे. पण या तीन बक्षिसान्मागे दोन जिवान्च्या उमेदिच्या काळातिल त्याग आहे. पूर्ण आयुष्यभर खतपाणी घालून वाढवलेल्या आणि जपलेल्या रोपाला आलेली तीन फळे आहेत्. सर्व बाजुनी अवाढव्य सन्कटे आली आणि त्यागाच्या अचल खडकावर आदळुन मातीमोल झाली. सन्कटे लाजुन दूसर्या दिवशी परत येण्यासाठी गेली. अशी पुष्कळ कुटुम्बे असतात जी अशा सन्कटान्चा सामना करतात. आमचे कुटुम्ब ही त्यापैकीच एक.
जेव्हा त्यान्ची नेमनूक जवळच्या गावी असायची अशा वेळी दादान्चा दिवस सकाळी साडेचार ला सुरु व्हायचा. पाच वाजता ते गणित आणि विज्ञानची शीकवणी घ्यायचे. ती साडे सहा पर्यन्त चालायची. तोपर्यन्त जेवण आणि डबा तयार असायचा. मुले उठायची आणि सगळे मिळुन सकाळी साडेसहा वाजता जेवायचो. मग दादा एकोन्विस किलोमिटर सायकल चालवत त्यान्च्या शाळेकडे जायचे. तिथे ते गणित शिकवायचे आणि विज्ञानाचा शीक्षक नसायचा म्हणून विज्ञान देखिल. नळ्गीर्, जीथून दहा वर्षात कोणीही दहावी पास झाले नव्हते तिथला गणित आणि विज्ञानाचा निकाल ८० ते १००% लागायला लागला.
ते दिवस अवघड असले तरीही आम्ही एकत्र असल्यामुळे सुखी होतो. आम्ही कधिही आठवड्याचे दोन चित्रपट चुकलो नाही. आमच्या कोणत्याही इछ्छा नाकारल्या गेल्या नाहीत. मला अजुन आठवते, मला महाराष्ट्राच्या सहलीला जाण्यासाठी पैसे नव्हते तर दादानी १००% महीना दरानी व्याज काढून मला सहलिस पाठवले. दादा एकदा नळ्गीर हून परत येताना ओढ्याला पूर आला आणि खिशातले ९०० रु., दादान्चा तेव्हाचा पगार्, भिजले. आई आणि दादा मिळून त्या पन्नासच्या नोटा रात्रभर स्टोव वर शेकवत होते. आम्हाला तेव्हा पैश्यान्ची इतकी चणचण होती.
पण आम्ही कधीही कोणाकडे आर्थीक मदत मागितली नाही. दादानी प्रत्येक दिवशी आनन्दात घालवला , खुप जास्त मेहेनत केली आणि कधीही कोणापुढे झुकले नाहीत. दादा उन्हाळ्याच्या सुट्टीत दहावीचे पेपर्स तपासायचे. आपल्या मुलान्चे मार्क्स वाढवण्यासाठी खुप लोक पैसे घेउन यायचे. त्यापैकी कुणाचे ही प्रयत्न सफळ झाले नाहीत्, पण कोणिही थन्ड शर्बत पिल्याशिवाय परतही गेले नाही.
पण सगळ्यात जास्त त्रास दादा लाम्बच्या गावी जायचे तेव्हा व्हायचा. ते आठवड्यातुन एक दोनदाच येवु शकायचे. आई व दादानी निर्णय घेतला होता की आई नोकरी न करता आम्हाकडे लक्ष देईल. आम्ही दादान्च्या नोकरिच्या गावी सुध्धा जाउन राहू शकलो असतो, किन्वा आईनी नोकरी केली असती तरीही त्या दोघान्चे कष्ट ही कमी झाले असते. पण दोघानी एक निर्णय घेतला आणि तो पूर्णपणे तडीस नेला.
आता दादा रिटायर झालेले आहेत आणि त्यान्साठी सगळ्यात महत्त्वाची गोष्ट म्हन्जे त्यान्चे कुटुम्ब त्यान्जवळ आहे. त्यान्चा नातु त्यान्जवळ आहे, मला खात्री आहे की आयुष्यभराच्या कष्टाला आता फळ येते आहे. मी माझ्या मुलाच्या भवितव्याबद्दल निश्चिन्त राहू शकतो कारण त्याला वळण लावण्यासाठी आईदादा आम्हासोबत आहेत.
आतापर्यन्त सान्गितलेले जवळपास बर्याच जनान्ना माहिती आहे. आणि हे ही माहिती आहे की या गाड्याचे दुसरे चाक सुध्धा इतकेच खम्बीर होते म्हणून हा गाडा इथेपर्यन्त पोचु शकला. दादान्च्या निव्रुत्तीमद्ये तिचा ही खुप मोठा विजय लपलेला आहे.तिने सुद्धा खुप कष्ट सहन केलेले आहेत. लग्न झाले तेव्हा ती फक्त दहावी पास होती. ती बी.ए. झाली, एम्.ए. झाली. तीनी आम्हासोबत अभ्यास केला व परिक्षा पास झाली. एका गोष्टीचे मला खुप नवल वाटते. आई व दादा दोघान्कडे देखील कधिही वेळेची कमी नसायची. दादा नळगीर हून सायकलवर यायचे तरीही सीनेमा पाहाण्यासाठी आम्हाला नेहेमी वेळ असायचा. आईचा सुद्धा परिक्षा अस्ताना सुद्धा सकाळी साडेसहा वाजता स्वयम्पाक तयार असायचा.
नोकरी मिळणे शक्य असून देखील आईनी नोकरी केली नाही. ती आमच्या कुटुम्बाचा पाठीचा कणा आहे. मग कण्याचे सर्व गुणधर्म तिच्यात आहेत. दादा जेव्हा आठवडाभर बाहेर असायचे तेव्हा तीच कुटुम्ब प्रमुखाचे स्थान घ्यायची. कण्यासारखिच ती कडक आणि न वाकणारी आहे. तिच्या स्वाभिमानाचे काही मासले मला आठवतात आणि मग मला थोडेसे हसायला ही येते आणि आदरानी श्वास भरून सुद्धा येतो.
दादाना तर पुष्कळ लोकान्नी सेन्ड्-ओफ दिला. कार्यक्रम केला, आम्ही तिघे मिळुन आता आईलाही तिच्या रिटायर्मेन्ट बददल शुभेच्छा देतोय्. लग्नानन्तर आता प्रथमच आईला एकटीसाठी दादा भेटतायत. खरेतर आईचे काम वाढ्णार आहे. पण मला खात्री आहे की हे वाढलेले काम आई आनन्दानी करेल.
दादानी देखील याबाबतीत निर्णय घेतला. आणि जर आपण चीत्रफीत विस वर्षे पुढे सरकावली तर आपल्याला त्या निर्णयाचा निकाल सुध्धा कळेल. दोन डाक्टर आणि एक इन्जिनीयर हा त्या निर्णयाचा निकाल आहे. पण या तीन बक्षिसान्मागे दोन जिवान्च्या उमेदिच्या काळातिल त्याग आहे. पूर्ण आयुष्यभर खतपाणी घालून वाढवलेल्या आणि जपलेल्या रोपाला आलेली तीन फळे आहेत्. सर्व बाजुनी अवाढव्य सन्कटे आली आणि त्यागाच्या अचल खडकावर आदळुन मातीमोल झाली. सन्कटे लाजुन दूसर्या दिवशी परत येण्यासाठी गेली. अशी पुष्कळ कुटुम्बे असतात जी अशा सन्कटान्चा सामना करतात. आमचे कुटुम्ब ही त्यापैकीच एक.
जेव्हा त्यान्ची नेमनूक जवळच्या गावी असायची अशा वेळी दादान्चा दिवस सकाळी साडेचार ला सुरु व्हायचा. पाच वाजता ते गणित आणि विज्ञानची शीकवणी घ्यायचे. ती साडे सहा पर्यन्त चालायची. तोपर्यन्त जेवण आणि डबा तयार असायचा. मुले उठायची आणि सगळे मिळुन सकाळी साडेसहा वाजता जेवायचो. मग दादा एकोन्विस किलोमिटर सायकल चालवत त्यान्च्या शाळेकडे जायचे. तिथे ते गणित शिकवायचे आणि विज्ञानाचा शीक्षक नसायचा म्हणून विज्ञान देखिल. नळ्गीर्, जीथून दहा वर्षात कोणीही दहावी पास झाले नव्हते तिथला गणित आणि विज्ञानाचा निकाल ८० ते १००% लागायला लागला.
ते दिवस अवघड असले तरीही आम्ही एकत्र असल्यामुळे सुखी होतो. आम्ही कधिही आठवड्याचे दोन चित्रपट चुकलो नाही. आमच्या कोणत्याही इछ्छा नाकारल्या गेल्या नाहीत. मला अजुन आठवते, मला महाराष्ट्राच्या सहलीला जाण्यासाठी पैसे नव्हते तर दादानी १००% महीना दरानी व्याज काढून मला सहलिस पाठवले. दादा एकदा नळ्गीर हून परत येताना ओढ्याला पूर आला आणि खिशातले ९०० रु., दादान्चा तेव्हाचा पगार्, भिजले. आई आणि दादा मिळून त्या पन्नासच्या नोटा रात्रभर स्टोव वर शेकवत होते. आम्हाला तेव्हा पैश्यान्ची इतकी चणचण होती.
पण आम्ही कधीही कोणाकडे आर्थीक मदत मागितली नाही. दादानी प्रत्येक दिवशी आनन्दात घालवला , खुप जास्त मेहेनत केली आणि कधीही कोणापुढे झुकले नाहीत. दादा उन्हाळ्याच्या सुट्टीत दहावीचे पेपर्स तपासायचे. आपल्या मुलान्चे मार्क्स वाढवण्यासाठी खुप लोक पैसे घेउन यायचे. त्यापैकी कुणाचे ही प्रयत्न सफळ झाले नाहीत्, पण कोणिही थन्ड शर्बत पिल्याशिवाय परतही गेले नाही.
पण सगळ्यात जास्त त्रास दादा लाम्बच्या गावी जायचे तेव्हा व्हायचा. ते आठवड्यातुन एक दोनदाच येवु शकायचे. आई व दादानी निर्णय घेतला होता की आई नोकरी न करता आम्हाकडे लक्ष देईल. आम्ही दादान्च्या नोकरिच्या गावी सुध्धा जाउन राहू शकलो असतो, किन्वा आईनी नोकरी केली असती तरीही त्या दोघान्चे कष्ट ही कमी झाले असते. पण दोघानी एक निर्णय घेतला आणि तो पूर्णपणे तडीस नेला.
आता दादा रिटायर झालेले आहेत आणि त्यान्साठी सगळ्यात महत्त्वाची गोष्ट म्हन्जे त्यान्चे कुटुम्ब त्यान्जवळ आहे. त्यान्चा नातु त्यान्जवळ आहे, मला खात्री आहे की आयुष्यभराच्या कष्टाला आता फळ येते आहे. मी माझ्या मुलाच्या भवितव्याबद्दल निश्चिन्त राहू शकतो कारण त्याला वळण लावण्यासाठी आईदादा आम्हासोबत आहेत.
आतापर्यन्त सान्गितलेले जवळपास बर्याच जनान्ना माहिती आहे. आणि हे ही माहिती आहे की या गाड्याचे दुसरे चाक सुध्धा इतकेच खम्बीर होते म्हणून हा गाडा इथेपर्यन्त पोचु शकला. दादान्च्या निव्रुत्तीमद्ये तिचा ही खुप मोठा विजय लपलेला आहे.तिने सुद्धा खुप कष्ट सहन केलेले आहेत. लग्न झाले तेव्हा ती फक्त दहावी पास होती. ती बी.ए. झाली, एम्.ए. झाली. तीनी आम्हासोबत अभ्यास केला व परिक्षा पास झाली. एका गोष्टीचे मला खुप नवल वाटते. आई व दादा दोघान्कडे देखील कधिही वेळेची कमी नसायची. दादा नळगीर हून सायकलवर यायचे तरीही सीनेमा पाहाण्यासाठी आम्हाला नेहेमी वेळ असायचा. आईचा सुद्धा परिक्षा अस्ताना सुद्धा सकाळी साडेसहा वाजता स्वयम्पाक तयार असायचा.
नोकरी मिळणे शक्य असून देखील आईनी नोकरी केली नाही. ती आमच्या कुटुम्बाचा पाठीचा कणा आहे. मग कण्याचे सर्व गुणधर्म तिच्यात आहेत. दादा जेव्हा आठवडाभर बाहेर असायचे तेव्हा तीच कुटुम्ब प्रमुखाचे स्थान घ्यायची. कण्यासारखिच ती कडक आणि न वाकणारी आहे. तिच्या स्वाभिमानाचे काही मासले मला आठवतात आणि मग मला थोडेसे हसायला ही येते आणि आदरानी श्वास भरून सुद्धा येतो.
दादाना तर पुष्कळ लोकान्नी सेन्ड्-ओफ दिला. कार्यक्रम केला, आम्ही तिघे मिळुन आता आईलाही तिच्या रिटायर्मेन्ट बददल शुभेच्छा देतोय्. लग्नानन्तर आता प्रथमच आईला एकटीसाठी दादा भेटतायत. खरेतर आईचे काम वाढ्णार आहे. पण मला खात्री आहे की हे वाढलेले काम आई आनन्दानी करेल.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Inner Ring Road
It is cold and eerie; it had rained some time back most probably during the day lending bite to the air putrid with stillness. It is not the comforting ticklish cold enjoyable in front of a TV set with a steamy cup of milk; neither a memorable cold cherished with a group of friends spent in a rickety bus heading nowhere.It is a sort of cold which makes you pity yourselves. It is the cold you feel when you wait for somebody you are sure is not going to come and the only person you are waiting for is yourself to come to senses. It is the cold which tells you to brake all of a sudden and dive headlong under the next tempo passing by roaring. It is that bone shattering / teeth chattering cold.But he has to endure it; like Ashwathama bears the wound on his forehead. At least Ashwatthama did not have a choice. In his case, this wound is given by himself. Has he ever wondered when the shining diamond of his being was taken away from him and replaced by the curse of immortality till death? Most probably he is too much engrossed in living the curse to evaluate. One more day of fighting somebody else's battles is over. It is very easy to fight others' battles once you have lost your own. He thinks about this and gives a little chuckle. Grips the dew-wet handlebar and pedals on.
The still air suddenly feels alive, biting with thousands of needles. Suddenly it is the only kin he has; causing pain ; helping to forget deeper wounds. The wet road sliently slips under the tyres. Blood starts pumping through tired legs; red eyes are actually enjoying the biting cold after the strain in front of the monitor. Head is clear of all the feelings; feet push pedals and the ever obliging cycle responds. It creaks because of no maintainance;but has not lost the speed. He is the knight in the shining armour; he is Alexander leading his forces across Hindukush; He is Columbus coaxing his men through unknown seas; dreaming about pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; he is Horatio Nelson; writing his own Trafalgar; taking on the world. A secret world of his own.
A truck speeds by blowing horn but suddenly the horn also does not seem loud; its sound suddenly freezing in the cold air; hanging like a mist; caught in the frame of time for eternity.It distrots the stillness a bit;making the picture more beautiful; it shakes for a while like the still water of the pond shakes by mild summer breeze only to settle in its old harmony and he pedels on.
He pedels for eternity; thinking about the good deeds he did. Thinking about the diamond on his forehead. In this case he is not like Ashwatthama; he has not lost the diamond; actually the wound is there only because the diamond is there.That is the advantage of having an invisible diamond; the disadvantage is that you have to carry both; diamond as well as the wound; together. It hurts more. You do not lose it for good as Ashwatthama did; you do not live forever with the festering wound either. Something deep within knows this truth and breathes life into him even if he himself does not know.This is the life force that drives him and many; most probably all; even them who cause the festering of his wound.
And then there it starts. He has reached his most favourite road. A mad grin suddenly appears across his lips.Surprisingly all the lights are on. The moon is hiding behind dark hideous clouds. Lights seem to be losing the eternal battle between them and the darkness. They are somehow holding on some yellow frozen cones; barely trickling till the ground. It looks like twenty frozen yellow gulmohors hung in mid-air. The darkness is incandescent with the arrogance of the victor. But he does not miss the mischivious light shining sometimes on top of a cold improptu pond; sometimes onthe dark emerald of the tree leaves; mocking the darkness. Only this city can have a forest in the middle of it. The breeze in now moving as he moves away from the buildings, freezing or evaportaing the beads of comforting sweat he is proudly holding across his forehead and the back of his neck. The vegetation is pretty thick. Suddenly something jumps in the nearby pond. It must be a tortoise. He was really fond of the one he'd caught long time back.Curous animals; there tortoises; he thinks and gaily pedals on.
There is a stable nearby and some horse changes its standing position in sleep.tawk,tawk; the noise surprises everybody ; him; the cold night; the steady breeze ; the pond and the lights seem to be shocked for a second; oh, but of course!! and everything gets on with their own business of pedaling, being cold, stinging and so on. The black road offers a nice slope and suddenly there is a big turn. The road is banked and he pedals till the road is just a blur under the wheels. It keeps slipping behind the tyres and he could not watch it as it somehow hurts the eyes.
The speed keeps increasing and it suddenly frightens him. The wind is pretty cold and his ears are almost about to fall off due to it.Even the comforting sweat is not ready to appear again. He wants to slow down but could not and pedals on. The road keeps unfurling heavy with expectancy; not ready for the events that any way are not going to happen. It is not a single turn like a shock but it is a contineous curve of surprises. There are no edges so there is no beginning or end; it unwinds at its own pace but it is now pretty steep and it causes one or two butterflies in his stomach. He wants to move with the curving of the road;being one with it.But he has his own pace which carries him faster. He regrets nothing more;he'd've surely liked to go with the road but like many others animate/inanimate things; has his own tuning frequency and does not rhyme well with the road; but still creates ever enduring notes etched in the fabric of time. What a pity these notes are not contineous; OR are they there because they are not contineous ?? Are they more beautiful because they are not supposed to last; neither are supposed to be reproduced with any sort of familarity with the original??Does the fallibility of life makes it more enduring ?? Do things are liked more because they are to be lost?? Do people are liked more because they are to be lost ??
But he cares no more and pedals on. The dawn smiles innocently like an infant on the east side nearly in front front of him.Smiling and again rhyming with the darkness before blasting it into oblivion.He has to sleep for sometime before he gets up and back in his favourite chair to fix his favourite problems; some more time pass to be done for the next day. Some more skirmishes awaiting eagerly almost making the sleep impossible.
The still air suddenly feels alive, biting with thousands of needles. Suddenly it is the only kin he has; causing pain ; helping to forget deeper wounds. The wet road sliently slips under the tyres. Blood starts pumping through tired legs; red eyes are actually enjoying the biting cold after the strain in front of the monitor. Head is clear of all the feelings; feet push pedals and the ever obliging cycle responds. It creaks because of no maintainance;but has not lost the speed. He is the knight in the shining armour; he is Alexander leading his forces across Hindukush; He is Columbus coaxing his men through unknown seas; dreaming about pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; he is Horatio Nelson; writing his own Trafalgar; taking on the world. A secret world of his own.
A truck speeds by blowing horn but suddenly the horn also does not seem loud; its sound suddenly freezing in the cold air; hanging like a mist; caught in the frame of time for eternity.It distrots the stillness a bit;making the picture more beautiful; it shakes for a while like the still water of the pond shakes by mild summer breeze only to settle in its old harmony and he pedels on.
He pedels for eternity; thinking about the good deeds he did. Thinking about the diamond on his forehead. In this case he is not like Ashwatthama; he has not lost the diamond; actually the wound is there only because the diamond is there.That is the advantage of having an invisible diamond; the disadvantage is that you have to carry both; diamond as well as the wound; together. It hurts more. You do not lose it for good as Ashwatthama did; you do not live forever with the festering wound either. Something deep within knows this truth and breathes life into him even if he himself does not know.This is the life force that drives him and many; most probably all; even them who cause the festering of his wound.
And then there it starts. He has reached his most favourite road. A mad grin suddenly appears across his lips.Surprisingly all the lights are on. The moon is hiding behind dark hideous clouds. Lights seem to be losing the eternal battle between them and the darkness. They are somehow holding on some yellow frozen cones; barely trickling till the ground. It looks like twenty frozen yellow gulmohors hung in mid-air. The darkness is incandescent with the arrogance of the victor. But he does not miss the mischivious light shining sometimes on top of a cold improptu pond; sometimes onthe dark emerald of the tree leaves; mocking the darkness. Only this city can have a forest in the middle of it. The breeze in now moving as he moves away from the buildings, freezing or evaportaing the beads of comforting sweat he is proudly holding across his forehead and the back of his neck. The vegetation is pretty thick. Suddenly something jumps in the nearby pond. It must be a tortoise. He was really fond of the one he'd caught long time back.Curous animals; there tortoises; he thinks and gaily pedals on.
There is a stable nearby and some horse changes its standing position in sleep.tawk,tawk; the noise surprises everybody ; him; the cold night; the steady breeze ; the pond and the lights seem to be shocked for a second; oh, but of course!! and everything gets on with their own business of pedaling, being cold, stinging and so on. The black road offers a nice slope and suddenly there is a big turn. The road is banked and he pedals till the road is just a blur under the wheels. It keeps slipping behind the tyres and he could not watch it as it somehow hurts the eyes.
The speed keeps increasing and it suddenly frightens him. The wind is pretty cold and his ears are almost about to fall off due to it.Even the comforting sweat is not ready to appear again. He wants to slow down but could not and pedals on. The road keeps unfurling heavy with expectancy; not ready for the events that any way are not going to happen. It is not a single turn like a shock but it is a contineous curve of surprises. There are no edges so there is no beginning or end; it unwinds at its own pace but it is now pretty steep and it causes one or two butterflies in his stomach. He wants to move with the curving of the road;being one with it.But he has his own pace which carries him faster. He regrets nothing more;he'd've surely liked to go with the road but like many others animate/inanimate things; has his own tuning frequency and does not rhyme well with the road; but still creates ever enduring notes etched in the fabric of time. What a pity these notes are not contineous; OR are they there because they are not contineous ?? Are they more beautiful because they are not supposed to last; neither are supposed to be reproduced with any sort of familarity with the original??Does the fallibility of life makes it more enduring ?? Do things are liked more because they are to be lost?? Do people are liked more because they are to be lost ??
But he cares no more and pedals on. The dawn smiles innocently like an infant on the east side nearly in front front of him.Smiling and again rhyming with the darkness before blasting it into oblivion.He has to sleep for sometime before he gets up and back in his favourite chair to fix his favourite problems; some more time pass to be done for the next day. Some more skirmishes awaiting eagerly almost making the sleep impossible.
Monday, September 18, 2006
There she goes ....
"There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains"
The road is awash with the early september rain. Morning sun is slanting its rays on brown murky puddles. I and bhagu are immaculately dressed up,resolute we solemnly hang by our father's index fingers. Our hair neatly combed and brushed back. Our faces powdered by the fashion of the day, wet gandh on our foreheads and a dot of black onthe cheeks, taai has made sure that we are dressed for the occasion.I in my favourite dark blue satin T-shirt and bhagu in his yellow.Oil on top of a puddle distracts me and I let go of the finger. It moves like a then-psychedelic color changing amoeba. A breeze makes the water ripple.I forget everything and watch this extravaganza with open mouthed awestruck ecstacy.
I suddenly feel I'm alone and run with all the might. I do not want to be left back. I want to be the first one to hold the bundle of joy. A nurse in white is standing on top of the steps leading to the clinic. We try to look at her but the morning sun shines directly in our eyes. She cracks some joke about not letting us get the baby cos it was never ours in the first place and an eagle/stork dropped it near our mom yesterday and she will anyway take it as my mom has two already. Me and bhagu are just through with daily reading session where the eagle-and-stork-dropped babies grow up and leave their families to search for their royal roots and glory. We do not want that to happen with this baby. My eyes suddenly well up with tears. I jump the nurse, use tooth and nails to scratch and bite,bhagu follows suit. We drag this so far that the look of pride in father's and spent and tired mom's face changes to minor irritation to an explosion of anger which sends us into the grasp of one of his arms and we return home with him balancing two of us on one hand and holding the baby and supporting my mom with another. This balance becomes a feature of us fivesome.We manage to balance and fit everywhere. On a bicycle, in only one machhardaanee, on two tickets in our twice-a-week visits to the nearest theatres, on the same bench on the ferris wheels.
We share things. books, school, classrooms, teachers, scholarships, speakers' dias, speech-scripts. Most of them hand-me-downs. She is the last user and the best. She outshines us two every time.I think; bhagu listens and she works hard.She is the quiet one, the last ugly duckling. But always most liked and appreciated by every body. Parents, relatives and teachers.She is the bottom of the protection-chain. She is the perpetual vamp in our three charactor plays. I'm the self proclaimed king of the kingdom of three. She is my most devoted subject. The look of admiration and devotion remains even when I fall flat on my face and becomes a laughing stock. My word is the final one, I'm the supreme authority on everything. I make mistakes, sometimes behave snotty, selfish, insensitive, brutal. She forgives without asking, understands, controls by suffering. The ownership slowly changes hands.Shw listens to us but we say what she wants. The servant becomes the master through serving.
We spend years together, sharing everything, fighting tooth and nail,understanding and misunderstanding, loving and hating. She is always there on the fringes of thoughts. Calming, influencing, supporting, understanding.
She never suggests but makes changes all the same. She is the spoilsport, the regular sqeaker. Many a adventures reach untimely end because of her in the childhood, many a love stories nipped in the bud in the youth.But she never allows anything to be too wrong or too dangerous. She is normally analytical and timid, but when she dedicates to something she can be as intense as anybody. She learns karate and lathi.We change roles and I become the punching bag. All the throws are practised on me. I, without any formal training know now how to fall, how to escape lathimar even how to grab a female without getting your kneecaps kicked in, eyes punctured, nose bleeding, teeth knocked in.
when you own and are owned so much it is so difficult to part. It is more difficult than tearing away parts of your body. I spend the whole day in the brand new dhoti and turban bought specially for the occasion.Whole day I have been flirting with the camera. But now I cower from the glares of the halogen bulb.I decide not to cry. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. She is going around touching feet of all her elders. I do not want her to see me cry. It becomes unbearable and uncontrollable. She reaches me,I donot allow her to touch my feet. Mumble something meaningless and nod her on her way on.
She does not go, just wants to steal some more time together. Something breaks within. She tries to console me,her inlaws join her, but my grief knows no bounds. We push their car out for some distance, everybody is alone and so lonely for sometime, maybe lonely for a long time.
There she goes with the pieces from my heart
There she goes and now my teardrops start
And `ere I go once again
Through these lonely heartaches and pain
That`s all remain
all remain
There she goes again
Chasing down my lane
And no-one else can heal my pain
and I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains
There she goes
There she goes
There she goes"
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains"
The road is awash with the early september rain. Morning sun is slanting its rays on brown murky puddles. I and bhagu are immaculately dressed up,resolute we solemnly hang by our father's index fingers. Our hair neatly combed and brushed back. Our faces powdered by the fashion of the day, wet gandh on our foreheads and a dot of black onthe cheeks, taai has made sure that we are dressed for the occasion.I in my favourite dark blue satin T-shirt and bhagu in his yellow.Oil on top of a puddle distracts me and I let go of the finger. It moves like a then-psychedelic color changing amoeba. A breeze makes the water ripple.I forget everything and watch this extravaganza with open mouthed awestruck ecstacy.
I suddenly feel I'm alone and run with all the might. I do not want to be left back. I want to be the first one to hold the bundle of joy. A nurse in white is standing on top of the steps leading to the clinic. We try to look at her but the morning sun shines directly in our eyes. She cracks some joke about not letting us get the baby cos it was never ours in the first place and an eagle/stork dropped it near our mom yesterday and she will anyway take it as my mom has two already. Me and bhagu are just through with daily reading session where the eagle-and-stork-dropped babies grow up and leave their families to search for their royal roots and glory. We do not want that to happen with this baby. My eyes suddenly well up with tears. I jump the nurse, use tooth and nails to scratch and bite,bhagu follows suit. We drag this so far that the look of pride in father's and spent and tired mom's face changes to minor irritation to an explosion of anger which sends us into the grasp of one of his arms and we return home with him balancing two of us on one hand and holding the baby and supporting my mom with another. This balance becomes a feature of us fivesome.We manage to balance and fit everywhere. On a bicycle, in only one machhardaanee, on two tickets in our twice-a-week visits to the nearest theatres, on the same bench on the ferris wheels.
We share things. books, school, classrooms, teachers, scholarships, speakers' dias, speech-scripts. Most of them hand-me-downs. She is the last user and the best. She outshines us two every time.I think; bhagu listens and she works hard.She is the quiet one, the last ugly duckling. But always most liked and appreciated by every body. Parents, relatives and teachers.She is the bottom of the protection-chain. She is the perpetual vamp in our three charactor plays. I'm the self proclaimed king of the kingdom of three. She is my most devoted subject. The look of admiration and devotion remains even when I fall flat on my face and becomes a laughing stock. My word is the final one, I'm the supreme authority on everything. I make mistakes, sometimes behave snotty, selfish, insensitive, brutal. She forgives without asking, understands, controls by suffering. The ownership slowly changes hands.Shw listens to us but we say what she wants. The servant becomes the master through serving.
We spend years together, sharing everything, fighting tooth and nail,understanding and misunderstanding, loving and hating. She is always there on the fringes of thoughts. Calming, influencing, supporting, understanding.
She never suggests but makes changes all the same. She is the spoilsport, the regular sqeaker. Many a adventures reach untimely end because of her in the childhood, many a love stories nipped in the bud in the youth.But she never allows anything to be too wrong or too dangerous. She is normally analytical and timid, but when she dedicates to something she can be as intense as anybody. She learns karate and lathi.We change roles and I become the punching bag. All the throws are practised on me. I, without any formal training know now how to fall, how to escape lathimar even how to grab a female without getting your kneecaps kicked in, eyes punctured, nose bleeding, teeth knocked in.
when you own and are owned so much it is so difficult to part. It is more difficult than tearing away parts of your body. I spend the whole day in the brand new dhoti and turban bought specially for the occasion.Whole day I have been flirting with the camera. But now I cower from the glares of the halogen bulb.I decide not to cry. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. She is going around touching feet of all her elders. I do not want her to see me cry. It becomes unbearable and uncontrollable. She reaches me,I donot allow her to touch my feet. Mumble something meaningless and nod her on her way on.
She does not go, just wants to steal some more time together. Something breaks within. She tries to console me,her inlaws join her, but my grief knows no bounds. We push their car out for some distance, everybody is alone and so lonely for sometime, maybe lonely for a long time.
There she goes with the pieces from my heart
There she goes and now my teardrops start
And `ere I go once again
Through these lonely heartaches and pain
That`s all remain
all remain
There she goes again
Chasing down my lane
And no-one else can heal my pain
and I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains
There she goes
There she goes
There she goes"
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
paus
Paus mhanje satat osandun wahanaaraa nikhalpanaa
Maagche pudhche na pahataa anant andharaachyaa gartyaat taklelee udee
Winakaaran pudhe kelelaa madatichaa haat
aanee ugich dolyaat jamaa honaree aasavahee ...
Karnaanee bedarkaarpane udhalelee sampattee
Aaichyaa maayechee paakhar
tudumb dudhaat taaklelee bhargachh saakhar.
Konachee bhid bhaad nathevtaa badaa badaa kosalto tevaa tathaakathit hriday-samratanchyaa bhashanaanee prereet honaaryaa bedarkaar aanee titkyaach bholyaa bhabdyaa tarunaichee aathavan hote ..
Paus kadhee ektaa naahee yet .. Swataa barobar na disnaaryaa dolyaanee aajeenee shivlelyaa godhadeechyaa ubechee aathavan gheun yeto .. Gelele dive aanee ti lawlawnaree kandilaachee nirbal waat .. Utkanthelaa aalelee aste gosht aanee saglejan ekaach godhadeet kase base ghusaayachaa prayatna karit astaat ..
Kuneetaree ugach haalchaal karte aanee mag thand hawaa bhasaa bhasaa aat ghuste. Ardhee pillee aailaa chitakalelee astaat aanee baakee aajeelaa. Aai haluch haataanee baajuchyaa olyaa bhintiwar nirniralyaa janaawaranchyaa sawlyaa padte. Panyache oghal aanee thartharnaaree waat milun tyaa janawaraanaa haaltee kartaat ... Kadhee kadhee gosthichee bhattee jamat naahee. Mag haalchaal wadhte aanee kunitaree ugich thand hawaa aat sodte. Sagalyaancha tilpapad hoto;shevtee kunee taree mast paikee godhadee udwun lawto .. Thoda wel odhaodh hote anee aai aanee aajichee bolnee khane sampeparyant kandil wizlelaa asto.
Mag aajee ekdam thevnee talee gosht kaadhte. Paawsachaa aawaj sobateelaa gheun aajee mast paikee shabdchitre kaadhit aste. Punhaa ekdaa gosht rangaat yete anee itkyaat fatak waajte .. Ekach gondhal hoto, "Baabaa aale,baba aale" .. "Thambayache nahi kaa kuthe??" wagaire
Baabaa tudumb bhijlele astaat, pan ek pishawee matr tyaanee kasheetaree bhijnyaapasun wachawalelee aste. Bachhe mandaleechaa dolaa tevaa pasun pishavee varach asto. Pishavee haluch aaichyaa haataat jaate. bachhe mandaleechee netrapallavi hote, sagalyanchyaa chehryaawar hasu fulalele aste.Baabaa hasu pahataat, kadaacheet te pahanyasathee te samudra wagaire suddha pohle aste.Aajeechee gosht matr ardhyaatach rahun jaate.
Kadhee kadhee ugich athavadaabhar tumbum basto ... Manaat sathalelyaa waishamyasarkhaa .. malabh datun aste ...jashi ratrabhar talamalat thevnaaree thasthasnaaree junee jakham.. ugich wadhat jaanaaraa gairsamaj. Kadhi kadhi to khelto khelto ashee ugach bhitee daakhawnaaryaa Kambli pramaane aathavade aathavade ugaach adkun asto . Haa paus saglyaat wait .. Padat hee naahee aanee jaat hee naahee .. Ugach baapdyaa balirajyachaa Jwarilaa kaajlee laagel ashee nishkaran kaaljee laun thevto
Jeva kosalto teva kadhee asahyya agatiktaa aanee kadhee anaawar unmaad !! Saglyaa junyaa chukaanchee bochnee aanee junyaa jakhamaanchyaa khaplyaa koralyaa jaataat Ugach junee wiraanee aiku yete .. Taree ugach tumbanyaapekshaa te bare ... Ganitachyaa mastaransaarkha to badav badav badavun jaato
Pan te fakt paus sampe paryantach , paus aplaa dho dho padun jaato, je kaahee aadve yeil te dhuwun aanee bhijwun kaadhto ... aanee jasaa aalaa tasaach thambto .. Saglee srishtee thodeshee gondhalaleleech aste thoda wel taree. Mag kuthun taree ekhadyaa limbalaa bhan yete .. Warachyaa zulukeebarobarach to aaplyaa fandyaa fadfadun gheto .. Jasaa kaahee pudhlyaa kshanee aakashaatach udnaar aahe ... Mag halu halu sagle shuddheewar yetaat
Urlesurle pawasache themb tajyaa suryaprakashaat daaginyaansarkhe mirawataat
Divalee dasaryaasaarkhee aakaashachya nilya bhintiwar indradhanuche toran chadhavale jaate aanee srishtee parat aaplyaa dainandinit guntun jaate ...
Maagche pudhche na pahataa anant andharaachyaa gartyaat taklelee udee
Winakaaran pudhe kelelaa madatichaa haat
aanee ugich dolyaat jamaa honaree aasavahee ...
Karnaanee bedarkaarpane udhalelee sampattee
Aaichyaa maayechee paakhar
tudumb dudhaat taaklelee bhargachh saakhar.
Konachee bhid bhaad nathevtaa badaa badaa kosalto tevaa tathaakathit hriday-samratanchyaa bhashanaanee prereet honaaryaa bedarkaar aanee titkyaach bholyaa bhabdyaa tarunaichee aathavan hote ..
Paus kadhee ektaa naahee yet .. Swataa barobar na disnaaryaa dolyaanee aajeenee shivlelyaa godhadeechyaa ubechee aathavan gheun yeto .. Gelele dive aanee ti lawlawnaree kandilaachee nirbal waat .. Utkanthelaa aalelee aste gosht aanee saglejan ekaach godhadeet kase base ghusaayachaa prayatna karit astaat ..
Kuneetaree ugach haalchaal karte aanee mag thand hawaa bhasaa bhasaa aat ghuste. Ardhee pillee aailaa chitakalelee astaat aanee baakee aajeelaa. Aai haluch haataanee baajuchyaa olyaa bhintiwar nirniralyaa janaawaranchyaa sawlyaa padte. Panyache oghal aanee thartharnaaree waat milun tyaa janawaraanaa haaltee kartaat ... Kadhee kadhee gosthichee bhattee jamat naahee. Mag haalchaal wadhte aanee kunitaree ugich thand hawaa aat sodte. Sagalyaancha tilpapad hoto;shevtee kunee taree mast paikee godhadee udwun lawto .. Thoda wel odhaodh hote anee aai aanee aajichee bolnee khane sampeparyant kandil wizlelaa asto.
Mag aajee ekdam thevnee talee gosht kaadhte. Paawsachaa aawaj sobateelaa gheun aajee mast paikee shabdchitre kaadhit aste. Punhaa ekdaa gosht rangaat yete anee itkyaat fatak waajte .. Ekach gondhal hoto, "Baabaa aale,baba aale" .. "Thambayache nahi kaa kuthe??" wagaire
Baabaa tudumb bhijlele astaat, pan ek pishawee matr tyaanee kasheetaree bhijnyaapasun wachawalelee aste. Bachhe mandaleechaa dolaa tevaa pasun pishavee varach asto. Pishavee haluch aaichyaa haataat jaate. bachhe mandaleechee netrapallavi hote, sagalyanchyaa chehryaawar hasu fulalele aste.Baabaa hasu pahataat, kadaacheet te pahanyasathee te samudra wagaire suddha pohle aste.Aajeechee gosht matr ardhyaatach rahun jaate.
Kadhee kadhee ugich athavadaabhar tumbum basto ... Manaat sathalelyaa waishamyasarkhaa .. malabh datun aste ...jashi ratrabhar talamalat thevnaaree thasthasnaaree junee jakham.. ugich wadhat jaanaaraa gairsamaj. Kadhi kadhi to khelto khelto ashee ugach bhitee daakhawnaaryaa Kambli pramaane aathavade aathavade ugaach adkun asto . Haa paus saglyaat wait .. Padat hee naahee aanee jaat hee naahee .. Ugach baapdyaa balirajyachaa Jwarilaa kaajlee laagel ashee nishkaran kaaljee laun thevto
Jeva kosalto teva kadhee asahyya agatiktaa aanee kadhee anaawar unmaad !! Saglyaa junyaa chukaanchee bochnee aanee junyaa jakhamaanchyaa khaplyaa koralyaa jaataat Ugach junee wiraanee aiku yete .. Taree ugach tumbanyaapekshaa te bare ... Ganitachyaa mastaransaarkha to badav badav badavun jaato
Pan te fakt paus sampe paryantach , paus aplaa dho dho padun jaato, je kaahee aadve yeil te dhuwun aanee bhijwun kaadhto ... aanee jasaa aalaa tasaach thambto .. Saglee srishtee thodeshee gondhalaleleech aste thoda wel taree. Mag kuthun taree ekhadyaa limbalaa bhan yete .. Warachyaa zulukeebarobarach to aaplyaa fandyaa fadfadun gheto .. Jasaa kaahee pudhlyaa kshanee aakashaatach udnaar aahe ... Mag halu halu sagle shuddheewar yetaat
Urlesurle pawasache themb tajyaa suryaprakashaat daaginyaansarkhe mirawataat
Divalee dasaryaasaarkhee aakaashachya nilya bhintiwar indradhanuche toran chadhavale jaate aanee srishtee parat aaplyaa dainandinit guntun jaate ...
Sunday, September 10, 2006
About a boy ...
What happens when you hold your firstborn close to your heart for the first time ??
You are filled with joy,ecstasy. More than that you are content. Full like a glass filled till its brim.
Not bubbly like a glass of champaigne, frothing and overflowing. Inviting and tempting others.
But a glass of calm water. Pure and transparent. Happy in itself. Content to be left alone with your bundle of joy. Maybe a cocaine junkie may feel so. Or a sufi does so. Maybe they feel different, who knows, who cares after that day??
I was at my best jittery when I used to hold any infant in my arms. Not that I went out of my way to hold them. I mean I like kids and all, but infants look too fragile to me. My relations with them can be summarized in one word: amazement. On both sides: I am amazed at God (Ok, amazed at evolution) and the kid amazed at my nervousness. I used to have two left feet, several uncontrollable hands and used to tie myself in knots all over. It was second biggest miracle of God(after the infant) that I did not drop any of those.
When I saw him first, he was just half a day old. Was resting from the strain of birth, near to his very tired and equally excited mom. She beamed a smile to me and I fell in love all over again, we will talk about that sometime later:) . Breathlessly she reported the baby's progress. He had cried very little, was curios about everything, but not over-excited. Took the surroundings in, made necessary connections and drawn necessary conclusion:"vokey so this lady is tending me and all over me. She must be my mom. Point noted. Who are others. Let's see .. Hmmm .. Nobody very important, at least right now. But let's just flash a smile: just in case.". Here he lets out one of his first smiles. Cheers erupt all around. His granpa and granny are clean-bowled.. "Vokey-dokey. That should keep them on the edge for sometime. I think I need a small nap." Here he goes back to sleep.
This is the time where I enter the scene, maybe after it has repeated many times. Again there is a small commotion in the room. He just majestically lifts one of his eyebrows. "Vokey, so it is not about me." and promptly resumes his slumber. I gloat over him, reach him to hold him when several of them admonish me. I had committed a crime of trying to wake a sleeping infant up. I try to engage myself in conversation with others. But my eyes are riveted on the sleeping beauty. Okey, his face looks like his mom. But you can never tell. Everybody says: he will settle down in a look only after 1 month. Somebody covers him with a small blanket. He wrinkles his nose, tries to kick away the blanket. Blanket being heavy is a little difficult to move. Suddenly he furrows his eyebrows, kicks and punches in all directions uncontrollably. My heart skips a beat: was he using his left leg/hand more? "You can not tell right away": elders go up in unison. Okey, you wait:says me. He is definitely a lefty. Meanwhile after getting rid of the blanket, he has had his small victory and goes back to sleep, both arms raised above his head, a la laughing Buddha.
I take this cue and declare the action as a sign of waking up: Pouncing on him, my right hand goes behind his head-shoulder-neck. Left one supports his tiny buttocks. Nice and easy and he is on my lap. He wiggles and writhes in his sleep, maybe trying to make some sense of this new touch. Any other time this would have given me a heart attack: an infant wiggling in my arms. But I knew I was not meant to drop this one. Not even meant to be worried about causing him any harm. We are going to go a long way, father and son. So many things to do in so many years: Things I did and things I did not do but really wanted to do. Things HE will like to do.
He lets a minuscule smile from one corner of his mouth. Opens his one eye, maybe to check whether it is worth opening the other, opens the other slowly. Tries to focus it on my bent face. Sees me and again smiles his tiny-winy-out-of-the-corner-of-mouth doubt of a smile.
I kept feeling like a damn stupid glass full of water I mentioned before. I can not help it. I can not feel otherwise.
You are filled with joy,ecstasy. More than that you are content. Full like a glass filled till its brim.
Not bubbly like a glass of champaigne, frothing and overflowing. Inviting and tempting others.
But a glass of calm water. Pure and transparent. Happy in itself. Content to be left alone with your bundle of joy. Maybe a cocaine junkie may feel so. Or a sufi does so. Maybe they feel different, who knows, who cares after that day??
I was at my best jittery when I used to hold any infant in my arms. Not that I went out of my way to hold them. I mean I like kids and all, but infants look too fragile to me. My relations with them can be summarized in one word: amazement. On both sides: I am amazed at God (Ok, amazed at evolution) and the kid amazed at my nervousness. I used to have two left feet, several uncontrollable hands and used to tie myself in knots all over. It was second biggest miracle of God(after the infant) that I did not drop any of those.
When I saw him first, he was just half a day old. Was resting from the strain of birth, near to his very tired and equally excited mom. She beamed a smile to me and I fell in love all over again, we will talk about that sometime later:) . Breathlessly she reported the baby's progress. He had cried very little, was curios about everything, but not over-excited. Took the surroundings in, made necessary connections and drawn necessary conclusion:"vokey so this lady is tending me and all over me. She must be my mom. Point noted. Who are others. Let's see .. Hmmm .. Nobody very important, at least right now. But let's just flash a smile: just in case.". Here he lets out one of his first smiles. Cheers erupt all around. His granpa and granny are clean-bowled.. "Vokey-dokey. That should keep them on the edge for sometime. I think I need a small nap." Here he goes back to sleep.
This is the time where I enter the scene, maybe after it has repeated many times. Again there is a small commotion in the room. He just majestically lifts one of his eyebrows. "Vokey, so it is not about me." and promptly resumes his slumber. I gloat over him, reach him to hold him when several of them admonish me. I had committed a crime of trying to wake a sleeping infant up. I try to engage myself in conversation with others. But my eyes are riveted on the sleeping beauty. Okey, his face looks like his mom. But you can never tell. Everybody says: he will settle down in a look only after 1 month. Somebody covers him with a small blanket. He wrinkles his nose, tries to kick away the blanket. Blanket being heavy is a little difficult to move. Suddenly he furrows his eyebrows, kicks and punches in all directions uncontrollably. My heart skips a beat: was he using his left leg/hand more? "You can not tell right away": elders go up in unison. Okey, you wait:says me. He is definitely a lefty. Meanwhile after getting rid of the blanket, he has had his small victory and goes back to sleep, both arms raised above his head, a la laughing Buddha.
I take this cue and declare the action as a sign of waking up: Pouncing on him, my right hand goes behind his head-shoulder-neck. Left one supports his tiny buttocks. Nice and easy and he is on my lap. He wiggles and writhes in his sleep, maybe trying to make some sense of this new touch. Any other time this would have given me a heart attack: an infant wiggling in my arms. But I knew I was not meant to drop this one. Not even meant to be worried about causing him any harm. We are going to go a long way, father and son. So many things to do in so many years: Things I did and things I did not do but really wanted to do. Things HE will like to do.
He lets a minuscule smile from one corner of his mouth. Opens his one eye, maybe to check whether it is worth opening the other, opens the other slowly. Tries to focus it on my bent face. Sees me and again smiles his tiny-winy-out-of-the-corner-of-mouth doubt of a smile.
I kept feeling like a damn stupid glass full of water I mentioned before. I can not help it. I can not feel otherwise.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Son, you just dropped the cuppa ....
Mon Feb 10, 2003 10:32 am
The world cup starts with a bang ..
with Lara coming into his own and Klusener/Jayasurya blasting all
cylinders; I think some cricket'll be played this time.
There are men who fight and fight hard. There are men; who win
matches single handedly. There are shrewd leaders like hussain and
there are inspiring leaders like Hooper. There are bravehearts and there
are cunning foxes. There are dedicated/disciplined players and teams and
there are talented players and teams.
But conspicuous with his absence is the man who has all the above
mentioned attributes and much more. This is dedicated to him, the
Napoleon of modern cricket.
"If you can keep you head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;"
His eyes are inherited from the pirates his forefathers are hailed to be;
small and cringy. His face an expressionless mask marked with the creases
which could as well be scars of so many a knife fights. Take some other era
and he'll be capable to put a knife across your throat before you say "howzzat".
He's a fighter and a survivor with a panache for difficult situations. Unlike
his twin who is a gambler and king of vast fortunes of talent;
he is a hard worker and a fighter; fighter to death.
His brother is a early autumn morning's dream cricket has had.
And then cricket got up and saw leaves were falling aimlessly down;
was depressed at the loss and would've hung her head in defeat
but only for he was there like an old gardener planting new seeds with his
shaking hands ; knowing they'll any way die away;but with dreams of the unwithering
springin his eyes and unshakable faith in his dreams ..
And when his brother has hung up his willow and may be sipping on his beer
in some bar Or gambling gaily in some casino; he is still there; working on his
body to pull itself through one more year of toil which of course will lead to many
more such years.
"If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat these two impostors just the same"
Of course I'm talking about Steven Waugh; a quintessential fighter, a dreamer,
an achiever.
He's won the world cup for his country single handedly; Stood always there when
he was needed. Built up a formidable team. Saw boys turn into tough men;
"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;"
taught these boys to fight hard and fight heartless;
always supported performances;always ridiculed reputations;
And when it was his reputation being ridiculed by the same selection committee
which for nearly a decade danced on his fingertips;
answered the ridicule again and again only by performances and not by a single
word.
Fought with his own boys with the same heartlessness he preached. And never lost
the common touch. Always knew who he was. stuck permanently to the things that were his:
his cap, his piece of red cloth; his place in the playing eleven; his captaincy
and his cricket.
"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'"
Yes, it is just the will to hold on which keeps him going;
He's made for struggling/fighting and that's what he's doing and that's
what he'll do till the end and beyond it.
"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;"
"If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"
Yes mate ... Make it count ...
The world cup starts with a bang ..
with Lara coming into his own and Klusener/Jayasurya blasting all
cylinders; I think some cricket'll be played this time.
There are men who fight and fight hard. There are men; who win
matches single handedly. There are shrewd leaders like hussain and
there are inspiring leaders like Hooper. There are bravehearts and there
are cunning foxes. There are dedicated/disciplined players and teams and
there are talented players and teams.
But conspicuous with his absence is the man who has all the above
mentioned attributes and much more. This is dedicated to him, the
Napoleon of modern cricket.
"If you can keep you head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;"
His eyes are inherited from the pirates his forefathers are hailed to be;
small and cringy. His face an expressionless mask marked with the creases
which could as well be scars of so many a knife fights. Take some other era
and he'll be capable to put a knife across your throat before you say "howzzat".
He's a fighter and a survivor with a panache for difficult situations. Unlike
his twin who is a gambler and king of vast fortunes of talent;
he is a hard worker and a fighter; fighter to death.
His brother is a early autumn morning's dream cricket has had.
And then cricket got up and saw leaves were falling aimlessly down;
was depressed at the loss and would've hung her head in defeat
but only for he was there like an old gardener planting new seeds with his
shaking hands ; knowing they'll any way die away;but with dreams of the unwithering
springin his eyes and unshakable faith in his dreams ..
And when his brother has hung up his willow and may be sipping on his beer
in some bar Or gambling gaily in some casino; he is still there; working on his
body to pull itself through one more year of toil which of course will lead to many
more such years.
"If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat these two impostors just the same"
Of course I'm talking about Steven Waugh; a quintessential fighter, a dreamer,
an achiever.
He's won the world cup for his country single handedly; Stood always there when
he was needed. Built up a formidable team. Saw boys turn into tough men;
"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;"
taught these boys to fight hard and fight heartless;
always supported performances;always ridiculed reputations;
And when it was his reputation being ridiculed by the same selection committee
which for nearly a decade danced on his fingertips;
answered the ridicule again and again only by performances and not by a single
word.
Fought with his own boys with the same heartlessness he preached. And never lost
the common touch. Always knew who he was. stuck permanently to the things that were his:
his cap, his piece of red cloth; his place in the playing eleven; his captaincy
and his cricket.
"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'"
Yes, it is just the will to hold on which keeps him going;
He's made for struggling/fighting and that's what he's doing and that's
what he'll do till the end and beyond it.
"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;"
"If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"
Yes mate ... Make it count ...
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Just like that
Imagine you are engrossed in your daily chores. Living in the small well you have built for yourself. Totally immersed in yourselves, blissfully ignorant of the outside world.
Like a lightening, something flashes. You just exchange few passing words and voila, time stops and rewinds. Eveything seems just like yesterday or today morning. Memories flood the heart. At a moment tears well up, at another a smile haplessly plays on your lips. The things you did, the things you talked about, the ways you behaved. A secret hidden place holds all these things. You find it again: You live that unbelievable part of your life all over again.
Just like that ....
Like a lightening, something flashes. You just exchange few passing words and voila, time stops and rewinds. Eveything seems just like yesterday or today morning. Memories flood the heart. At a moment tears well up, at another a smile haplessly plays on your lips. The things you did, the things you talked about, the ways you behaved. A secret hidden place holds all these things. You find it again: You live that unbelievable part of your life all over again.
Just like that ....
Sporty June ...
Just yesterday watched a very sedate and controlled innings by Jaffer. Test cricket at its best.
Woke up to the news of Dhoni-Lara drama and Murali feat.
Wow with world cup starting in just two more days, cricket is just setting me up for all the late hour viewings.
Cool beans ...
Woke up to the news of Dhoni-Lara drama and Murali feat.
Wow with world cup starting in just two more days, cricket is just setting me up for all the late hour viewings.
Cool beans ...
Friday, May 19, 2006
four flashes and a bar browl (Arsenal Vs Barcelona)
This Wednesday Arsenal met Barcelona in the finals of some European championship. Being on the fringes of football for quite a while now, I knew enough not to fall for this.
It is a well known fact that if any two very good teams meet in a final, the game is boring. The individual brilliances cancel each other out and the team with more brawn carrier the day. But here are four flashes which made me wait up till the ungodly hour (Yes. Now a days I am fast asleep before 10.30 PM).
Thierry Henry (either change the pronunciation OR change the spelling) is attacking from the right wing. He is on the edge of the corner of the D. Two players are waiting on the far and near corners of the goal. Henry unlashes a deadly right footer. But nobody sees the ball. The ball is actually passed to the unassuming winger on Henri's left with the left foot before the right leg takes the swing and hitting nothing but thin air.
Rolandinho in charging in the left field. Three defenders converge on him. He increases his speed and runs through them and leaves them behind in three steps; each time hitting the ball with the instep, increasing the speed after each dodge.
Henry overruns the ball in the D somehow. Turns back, and with the back to the goal, kicks the ball with the outside of the right foot. The kick is aimed at the corner of the field, but it hits the ball just in the exact angle such that the ball curves in the goal, over the dumbfounded heads of two defenders and the goalkeeper.
Ronaldinho is practising. Somebody passes him the ball. He catches the ball between his ankle and back of his thigh. On one leg, he rolls once, balances and in a smooth flourish the ball gets towards his head, loops towards his foot and is returned to the sender with love.
I had to see the match. And I did see it. It did not turn out what it promised to be. But I do not have any regrets.
One of the commentators had a view that Arsenal should attack from the word go if they are to have any chances in the game. I did not understand exactly why, but that's what they did. And it came out very well. Before Barcelona could say boo, Henry already had three attacks on the goal. Just missing to score a goal somehow and the match was truly on.
But suddenly the Arsenal goalkeeper brought down one of the attacker. The ball was passed to another attacker and the goal was scored. but the refree disallowed the goal, red-carded the goalkeeper and effectively killed the game.
Arsenal showed lot of spirit to score a goal and gamely fought till the beginning of the second half. Barca patiently waited for them to tire.
It was as disgusting as watching a boxing match going through all the rounds and the boxers trying to out-wait each other. The difference was that Barca was doing all the waiting. This was the first time I saw Ronaldinho so much out of form. None of his shots were on target and his tricks were known coming from a mile away and even then they did not work out.
This made the match an outrage as far as the skills go. But for spirits and emotions, It was really a worth watch.
It is a well known fact that if any two very good teams meet in a final, the game is boring. The individual brilliances cancel each other out and the team with more brawn carrier the day. But here are four flashes which made me wait up till the ungodly hour (Yes. Now a days I am fast asleep before 10.30 PM).
Thierry Henry (either change the pronunciation OR change the spelling) is attacking from the right wing. He is on the edge of the corner of the D. Two players are waiting on the far and near corners of the goal. Henry unlashes a deadly right footer. But nobody sees the ball. The ball is actually passed to the unassuming winger on Henri's left with the left foot before the right leg takes the swing and hitting nothing but thin air.
Rolandinho in charging in the left field. Three defenders converge on him. He increases his speed and runs through them and leaves them behind in three steps; each time hitting the ball with the instep, increasing the speed after each dodge.
Henry overruns the ball in the D somehow. Turns back, and with the back to the goal, kicks the ball with the outside of the right foot. The kick is aimed at the corner of the field, but it hits the ball just in the exact angle such that the ball curves in the goal, over the dumbfounded heads of two defenders and the goalkeeper.
Ronaldinho is practising. Somebody passes him the ball. He catches the ball between his ankle and back of his thigh. On one leg, he rolls once, balances and in a smooth flourish the ball gets towards his head, loops towards his foot and is returned to the sender with love.
I had to see the match. And I did see it. It did not turn out what it promised to be. But I do not have any regrets.
One of the commentators had a view that Arsenal should attack from the word go if they are to have any chances in the game. I did not understand exactly why, but that's what they did. And it came out very well. Before Barcelona could say boo, Henry already had three attacks on the goal. Just missing to score a goal somehow and the match was truly on.
But suddenly the Arsenal goalkeeper brought down one of the attacker. The ball was passed to another attacker and the goal was scored. but the refree disallowed the goal, red-carded the goalkeeper and effectively killed the game.
Arsenal showed lot of spirit to score a goal and gamely fought till the beginning of the second half. Barca patiently waited for them to tire.
It was as disgusting as watching a boxing match going through all the rounds and the boxers trying to out-wait each other. The difference was that Barca was doing all the waiting. This was the first time I saw Ronaldinho so much out of form. None of his shots were on target and his tricks were known coming from a mile away and even then they did not work out.
This made the match an outrage as far as the skills go. But for spirits and emotions, It was really a worth watch.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Basics
A rule of thumb for fellow bloggers(who may stuble upon my entries: very less possibility and even lesser them accepting and thinking about my advice ):
1. Do not get angry.
2. If you do, do not blog about it.
3. If you do, do not read the entry.
4. If you do, feel bad you wrote such thing and get back.
Writing is too a sweet thing to waste on vandetaa, trying to hurt somebody OR trying to teach someone a lesson.
Claire ??
1. Do not get angry.
2. If you do, do not blog about it.
3. If you do, do not read the entry.
4. If you do, feel bad you wrote such thing and get back.
Writing is too a sweet thing to waste on vandetaa, trying to hurt somebody OR trying to teach someone a lesson.
Claire ??
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Anger
Anger: At what things could have been
Helplessness: The way things are turning out
Sarcasm: you deserved it buddy. Way to go
Realization: I blew it myself.
Second thoughts: No I did not. This is too easy and comfortable an answer. Face the truth and confront the culprit. If you do not attack the problem how will you solve it.
Second-second thoughts: Direct confrontations have only worsened the situations till now. Hmmm..
Second-second-second thougths: Hmmmmm .. Such is life. It is wasted on the living. now more so. Some more Hmmmmmm ...
Last realization: Even writing has stopped helping. Dark clouds loom and no clear path is seen ....
Helplessness: The way things are turning out
Sarcasm: you deserved it buddy. Way to go
Realization: I blew it myself.
Second thoughts: No I did not. This is too easy and comfortable an answer. Face the truth and confront the culprit. If you do not attack the problem how will you solve it.
Second-second thoughts: Direct confrontations have only worsened the situations till now. Hmmm..
Second-second-second thougths: Hmmmmm .. Such is life. It is wasted on the living. now more so. Some more Hmmmmmm ...
Last realization: Even writing has stopped helping. Dark clouds loom and no clear path is seen ....
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Ek simple see coffee
I have experienced this before. Right now the frequency has definitely reduced. But still there is surely such a phenomenon.
The phenomenon is like this:
I eat something. I really relish hogging. I am full and content. Then the craving starts.
I really die to get that bitter-sweet-hot cup of coffee.
It happened today. I had my first biryanee (of the veg kind) in Hyderabad. And now I am just sitting back at my desk with feet up on the table and a warm cup of milk coffee with extra sugar. If bliss is something else, then I am not dying to know what it really is.
This is just one off instance that somebody else cooks the food and I like it this much. Otherwise the coffee honor is reserved just for wifey's cooking ;)
It had been a daily ritual that she fills my lunch-box to the brim and I obediently finish all of it.
And then enjoy the unavoidable urge for a cup of very sweet coffee, fight it for sometime and then give in.
It gives more pleasure that way ;)
Can life be happier ??!!!
The phenomenon is like this:
I eat something. I really relish hogging. I am full and content. Then the craving starts.
I really die to get that bitter-sweet-hot cup of coffee.
It happened today. I had my first biryanee (of the veg kind) in Hyderabad. And now I am just sitting back at my desk with feet up on the table and a warm cup of milk coffee with extra sugar. If bliss is something else, then I am not dying to know what it really is.
This is just one off instance that somebody else cooks the food and I like it this much. Otherwise the coffee honor is reserved just for wifey's cooking ;)
It had been a daily ritual that she fills my lunch-box to the brim and I obediently finish all of it.
And then enjoy the unavoidable urge for a cup of very sweet coffee, fight it for sometime and then give in.
It gives more pleasure that way ;)
Can life be happier ??!!!
Monday, April 24, 2006
I thought therefore I wasn't
Just back from attending a very close friends wedding.
Seems like the last straw drawn and the wonderful days
are just a distant history.
Things change and when they change they make sure the change is drastic.
Life has changed so much that the old me is totally bewildered.
Sometimes I feel I will wake up from a dream, but then I think I will be more
flabgergasted outside of this dream rather than inside of it ;)
The fun of being everywhere and belonging nowhere ...
and it's just started ;)
Seems like the last straw drawn and the wonderful days
are just a distant history.
Things change and when they change they make sure the change is drastic.
Life has changed so much that the old me is totally bewildered.
Sometimes I feel I will wake up from a dream, but then I think I will be more
flabgergasted outside of this dream rather than inside of it ;)
The fun of being everywhere and belonging nowhere ...
and it's just started ;)
Thursday, April 06, 2006
jugaad
No cooler things ... !!
I run around from the morning to different desks to get info. Everybody remote-logs into my machine and then shows me things that were supposed to work but are not.
Sirs, I am at your doorsteps because that; i.e. that those things are not working ; is the specific problem. They seem to understand this after some efforts. There seems to be a very interesting saying posted on may of the cubicles:
"Problems can not be solved by the same level of understanding that creates them."
Very interesting indeed!! Everybody points their problem-solving radars to lower and lower modules. So I run down the hierarchy of the executable - dll - launcher - subsystem - and none the least the OS.
During all the time the OS crashes left and right, is dreadfully slow and throws all the tantrums similar to a new bride whose husband comes home late from work un-informed. (And do not even get me started on this one ;)) . I managed to see BSOD multiple times, screw up a hard disk, shifted CPUs below the desk from the top of it and down again. In the process learnt most of the command line. I can manage now most of the stuff on command line, this is the only silver lining I can see to an otherwise dark and omnious cloud.
Lo and behold : After struggling for fifteen calender days, I finally was introduced to the fact that I was using the wrong OS version. So I put my head down, install the real culprit.
10:50 Installation starts
11:15 My mentor gives me an ultimatum. Mentor (For the uninitiates) is
the guy who is never there when you need him but can not keep away when you really do not need him. ;)
11:20 Hard disk makes dying noises. Trrrr ...trrrgh ... whoooshhhh ...
11:30 Hard disk is really struggling for life
13:30 After numerous(3/4) reboots installation is complete.
13:35 I start up the ladder of OS – Subsystem – interface – applications.
16:00 Everything works as a song.
18:00 I am on a roll ..
Hmmmm ….
After around 2 months, I am back doing what I am best at: JUGAAD : and definitely
enjoying doing it …
I run around from the morning to different desks to get info. Everybody remote-logs into my machine and then shows me things that were supposed to work but are not.
Sirs, I am at your doorsteps because that; i.e. that those things are not working ; is the specific problem. They seem to understand this after some efforts. There seems to be a very interesting saying posted on may of the cubicles:
"Problems can not be solved by the same level of understanding that creates them."
Very interesting indeed!! Everybody points their problem-solving radars to lower and lower modules. So I run down the hierarchy of the executable - dll - launcher - subsystem - and none the least the OS.
During all the time the OS crashes left and right, is dreadfully slow and throws all the tantrums similar to a new bride whose husband comes home late from work un-informed. (And do not even get me started on this one ;)) . I managed to see BSOD multiple times, screw up a hard disk, shifted CPUs below the desk from the top of it and down again. In the process learnt most of the command line. I can manage now most of the stuff on command line, this is the only silver lining I can see to an otherwise dark and omnious cloud.
Lo and behold : After struggling for fifteen calender days, I finally was introduced to the fact that I was using the wrong OS version. So I put my head down, install the real culprit.
10:50 Installation starts
11:15 My mentor gives me an ultimatum. Mentor (For the uninitiates) is
the guy who is never there when you need him but can not keep away when you really do not need him. ;)
11:20 Hard disk makes dying noises. Trrrr ...trrrgh ... whoooshhhh ...
11:30 Hard disk is really struggling for life
13:30 After numerous(3/4) reboots installation is complete.
13:35 I start up the ladder of OS – Subsystem – interface – applications.
16:00 Everything works as a song.
18:00 I am on a roll ..
Hmmmm ….
After around 2 months, I am back doing what I am best at: JUGAAD : and definitely
enjoying doing it …
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Mohammad-bin-tughlaq and first theatricals
Over the week end, had a chance of using HBad's local rails.
Just for the heck of it got down at the HI-TEX station. Both the things,
the local as well as the station is BIG. Part of the majestic vision Naidu had.
Either it was an effort to start the city on the right footing to be the next
IT hub, steal and surpass the grandeur of Bangalore, a dream about a world-class
metropolis equal to the Londons and Parises and Tokyos; Or it was just
extravagance of NTR. Only extended in a totally different direction: from the
grassroots poor to the middle-middle and upper-middle classes.
There can only be a direct comparison with mohommad-bin-Tughlaq. The sprawling parking lot and the station at the HI-TEX in the eerie wilderness of the rocks of the deccan plateau look very much similar to the ruins of Daulatabad.
Tughlaq dreamt completely different strategies: introducing common currency (copper instead of god+silver), move to the center of the kingdom (From Delhi to Daulatabad near Aurangabad). While these strategies were a master stroke in the respective domains of state finance and state safety + administration, they were way before their times, too revolutionary; hence total failures.
Now I see the parking-lot and the station and I am distinctly reminded of the scene where Tughlaq is looking at his precious rose-garden destroyed by the copper coins he tried to introduce and had to take back.
May be I am wrong, may be the future will need this infrastructure and it will remain un-vandalized till then.
Like everybody else, I was introduced to Tughlaq by the play by Girish Karnad.
Speaking of theatre, I had my first tiff with the theatre at HBad this week end.
There was some dance-drama performance in Shilpa-Kala-wedike (Another example of the grandiose vision: a sprawling complex, enough to seat ~2000 people OR more, huge stage, fantastic acoustics). The performance was “Stories from Panch-Tantra”.
The execution was fantastic. The sets were designed intelligently and the dances were breath taking.
The theatre (I would rather call it a stadium) was full. We(7 of us: me, wifey,cousin, in laws, sis and her hubby) made it without even buying a single ticket. Will tell more about the entry sometime later.
As as old-timers may remember, if I gatecrash any party, it is always a tremendous success (Remember the cricket-match) ….
Just for the heck of it got down at the HI-TEX station. Both the things,
the local as well as the station is BIG. Part of the majestic vision Naidu had.
Either it was an effort to start the city on the right footing to be the next
IT hub, steal and surpass the grandeur of Bangalore, a dream about a world-class
metropolis equal to the Londons and Parises and Tokyos; Or it was just
extravagance of NTR. Only extended in a totally different direction: from the
grassroots poor to the middle-middle and upper-middle classes.
There can only be a direct comparison with mohommad-bin-Tughlaq. The sprawling parking lot and the station at the HI-TEX in the eerie wilderness of the rocks of the deccan plateau look very much similar to the ruins of Daulatabad.
Tughlaq dreamt completely different strategies: introducing common currency (copper instead of god+silver), move to the center of the kingdom (From Delhi to Daulatabad near Aurangabad). While these strategies were a master stroke in the respective domains of state finance and state safety + administration, they were way before their times, too revolutionary; hence total failures.
Now I see the parking-lot and the station and I am distinctly reminded of the scene where Tughlaq is looking at his precious rose-garden destroyed by the copper coins he tried to introduce and had to take back.
May be I am wrong, may be the future will need this infrastructure and it will remain un-vandalized till then.
Like everybody else, I was introduced to Tughlaq by the play by Girish Karnad.
Speaking of theatre, I had my first tiff with the theatre at HBad this week end.
There was some dance-drama performance in Shilpa-Kala-wedike (Another example of the grandiose vision: a sprawling complex, enough to seat ~2000 people OR more, huge stage, fantastic acoustics). The performance was “Stories from Panch-Tantra”.
The execution was fantastic. The sets were designed intelligently and the dances were breath taking.
The theatre (I would rather call it a stadium) was full. We(7 of us: me, wifey,cousin, in laws, sis and her hubby) made it without even buying a single ticket. Will tell more about the entry sometime later.
As as old-timers may remember, if I gatecrash any party, it is always a tremendous success (Remember the cricket-match) ….
Friday, March 24, 2006
Worthy father to an enchanting baby ...
Wifey comes back tomorrow ...
This is the first time she has gone away. For just over a week to visit her parents. The separation, though small, really has added something more to us. Now I really know she is the most inseparable part of my life.
Really need to have a count on the hours we spend fighting. Somehow the love shows more when we fight. Lack of fights for a couple of days brings the fears of the fires burning down soon.
A nice good quarrel early in the morning and the full day nicely falls in a rhythm.
Don't know how it affects the baby though. She also must be understanding the force of love behind all this. Or she will already be understanding and forgiving her father. She must be right now slapping her forehead with her hand and think : "Dad, why are you like this??"
Boy! what a pair of daughter(son??)-father we are going to make!!
She will have all the care, poise and understanding (enough to be blamed as diplomacy) of her mother. But just to balance it out, she will also have my high-headedness, recklessness and moodiness.
But to get her, we need to wait for six more months. It is going to be a thrilling wait.
I am definitely going to make a really bad father: but I am going to fight like hell to be a good one. Only time will prove. All I can do is wait.
Wait for six months.
Hmmm right now wait for twenty-four hours for her mother to come back to me ;)
This is the first time she has gone away. For just over a week to visit her parents. The separation, though small, really has added something more to us. Now I really know she is the most inseparable part of my life.
Really need to have a count on the hours we spend fighting. Somehow the love shows more when we fight. Lack of fights for a couple of days brings the fears of the fires burning down soon.
A nice good quarrel early in the morning and the full day nicely falls in a rhythm.
Don't know how it affects the baby though. She also must be understanding the force of love behind all this. Or she will already be understanding and forgiving her father. She must be right now slapping her forehead with her hand and think : "Dad, why are you like this??"
Boy! what a pair of daughter(son??)-father we are going to make!!
She will have all the care, poise and understanding (enough to be blamed as diplomacy) of her mother. But just to balance it out, she will also have my high-headedness, recklessness and moodiness.
But to get her, we need to wait for six more months. It is going to be a thrilling wait.
I am definitely going to make a really bad father: but I am going to fight like hell to be a good one. Only time will prove. All I can do is wait.
Wait for six months.
Hmmm right now wait for twenty-four hours for her mother to come back to me ;)
Thursday, March 23, 2006
whiewww ... beginning of the ...
So,
Years after being a start-stop diary writer, my tryst with blogging.
Let's see how long it lasts.
The dust has yet to settle down. you have to go to a totally new city and stay there by yourselves just to understand what it means. My response to this situation is what my response generally to everything is : I am right now pretty numb about it ;)
That's why Arthur Dent is the fictional character I relate to the most. Tells a lot, doesn't it?
I think I need to settle down completely before I really feel nostalgic about the past, about Bangalore and friends and stuff. Right now Hyderabad is all rosy and cool (despite all the confusion.) I have got a bi-cycle for myself. And riding it to office is real helpful in making me feel a part.
Right now looks like I am the only one riding a bike to the office. I am allocated a cubicle and
all my paraphernalia of talismans are in their place. It now includes two deers, one elephant (made of copper) and a cycle rider (new addition: wipro gang gave me this).
I am going through a lot of code at the office. Reading-understanding code and cycling are the things binding me to the old-me. Otherwise everything is so different.
Years after being a start-stop diary writer, my tryst with blogging.
Let's see how long it lasts.
The dust has yet to settle down. you have to go to a totally new city and stay there by yourselves just to understand what it means. My response to this situation is what my response generally to everything is : I am right now pretty numb about it ;)
That's why Arthur Dent is the fictional character I relate to the most. Tells a lot, doesn't it?
I think I need to settle down completely before I really feel nostalgic about the past, about Bangalore and friends and stuff. Right now Hyderabad is all rosy and cool (despite all the confusion.) I have got a bi-cycle for myself. And riding it to office is real helpful in making me feel a part.
Right now looks like I am the only one riding a bike to the office. I am allocated a cubicle and
all my paraphernalia of talismans are in their place. It now includes two deers, one elephant (made of copper) and a cycle rider (new addition: wipro gang gave me this).
I am going through a lot of code at the office. Reading-understanding code and cycling are the things binding me to the old-me. Otherwise everything is so different.
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