While Anna Hazare is on fast, I am worried about my dinner for today and tomorrow. What else to do? I have been simply hiding myself from the cruel realities of our great Country for all this while. And hence I am more worried that I won’t be able to eat Chinese Chicken tomorrow for some religious reason.
I started writing this one, probably because I felt jealous about one of my friend’s comment on FB which said “Before supporting Anna Hazare make sure that you have not bribed anyone or produced fake bills”. The very First reason for jealousy was that I missed the point he made and was late to update my FB status to receive all “Like” he received and second he is thinking better than me. You see….
Flashback, Flashback (2 months Back)…
I am a very innocent person, and I hate corruption. But just now, I paid Rs. 50 bribe to get my marriage certificate from Government Marriage Registration office in Goa. Hold a second; I have my own reasons for it. I am on short trip at my native place to get it done and can’t extend my leave, my boss won’t like it.
Flashback, Flashback ….
I am asking for some extra medical bills from doctor and pharmacist, yeah! So what, last time I forgot to get actual bills, it compensates.
And then there are many such reasons for various other incidents as well. So I do pay bribe sometimes but you know I am helpless. And also I am too small a fish to be noticed by anyone.
Out of Flashback…
I am just wondering now, whether I should “Like” his comment or just do Ctrl+V and update my status. All I am interested is how many “Like” I will get. I am very smart on FB so much so that I have managed to keep the real problems out of my “Personal Book”.
In fact, I forgot Kasab who was on killing mission in Mumbai for 3 days in 2008 and still enjoying his Jail. I forgot about the news saying Kasab knows that he is safe because there are about 25 odd killers ahead of him awaiting decision from Honourable President of India….. Wait a moment, I remembered Kasab and felt like killing him during India Vs Pakistan penultimate match in World Cup 2011. So what if I forgot him next day, of course I had a reason, I had to worry on the strategy that Indian team should use to play against Sri Lanka in Final.
Flashback Flashback …
I am feeling very sorry for the family of Government officer who was burnt alive while he was on move to open up the racket of Petrol Mafia. I feeling very terrible and uneasy, discussing with my friend who has same feelings like me and also relishing Vada Paav (Indian Burger).
Out of Flashback …
So all in all, I have no social feelings, and I do not think I should be the first one to change and realise my responsibilities towards my nation. Anyone can manipulate me as I am coward and do not venture out of my comfort zone. At the most I can show resentment in the comfortable surrounding. But at the end, I can blame it on politician for not performing their duties towards my nation, whom I elect every 5(?) years
So to conclude I am hungry now and Daal Rice is ready. Anyone interested? And of course those who are interested to know more about Anna Hazare, please visit
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Hazare
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
मी एक कवी ??
रात्र आली की माझी भीती दाटून येते
का कोण जाणे आठवणीची वाट मोकळी होते
सगळे कसे दूर दूर वाटू लागतात
जवळ त्यांच्या जायला मन व्याकुळ होते
त्या मातीचा गंध काही केल्या येत नाही
त्याला शोधण्याची धडपड मात्र सुरु होते
रात्रीच पांघरुण खुप गडद होत जात
दूरच्या दिव्याच साहस मनाला स्पर्शुन जात
एक एक दिवा मालवत असतो
मनातला काहूर पेटतच असतं
परत जेव्हा नवीन पहाट होते
तेव्हा मात्र मी रात्र विसरतो ...
तेव्हा मात्र मी रात्र विसरतो ...
का कोण जाणे आठवणीची वाट मोकळी होते
सगळे कसे दूर दूर वाटू लागतात
जवळ त्यांच्या जायला मन व्याकुळ होते
त्या मातीचा गंध काही केल्या येत नाही
त्याला शोधण्याची धडपड मात्र सुरु होते
रात्रीच पांघरुण खुप गडद होत जात
दूरच्या दिव्याच साहस मनाला स्पर्शुन जात
एक एक दिवा मालवत असतो
मनातला काहूर पेटतच असतं
परत जेव्हा नवीन पहाट होते
तेव्हा मात्र मी रात्र विसरतो ...
तेव्हा मात्र मी रात्र विसरतो ...
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Reminiscence
I should have been filling my self evaluation in goal sheet assigned to me instead of writing this blog. Couple of days left to tell how I performed in last six month against those goals. But something in me, yes in me, is keeping me away from it. I thought I will put it on blog. These are some of the people in my life, who are not part of this world now. The time has passed and it is a big healer. But sometimes when I am alone, the wind blows the pages of memory and they are in front of me.
Laxman, he came to my class when I was in 4th grade. I completed my primary education in my own village. Before he joined me, I was the only “intelligent” student of my class. But he was equally good; in fact better than I was, in many aspects. He was the only brother of his two elder sisters and of course the only boy in the family. He never had healthy body; often he used to fall sick. But, his grasping power was great. That was my first encounter with the competition, tough competition to perform better than him. Apart from that one competition, we became good friends. But suddenly I found 2 parties within the class, one supporting him and other supporting me. Prime Reason for that was the home work, and friends with whom we used to share it. Until now, I was the only source for other students to copy the homework. But now, they had an option. But, he was a team player and he never fought with me over the grades or over the “party” issue. Rather he used to maintain a low profile over his brilliance. He also used to finish his chores and help his family. Now I feel, he could have easily surpassed me in studies, had he devoted more time and if he had good immunity for the seasons and common diseases. I breathed a sigh of relief when I came to know that he moved to some other school after completing 4th grade. But it was painful to know that, after a year or so, he succumbed to a common disease. I knew I lost him forever.
Pallavi, her name was apt for her attitude towards life. Very bubbly, chit chatter, sporty and talented. She was full of life. I met her, when I moved to high school in a near by town. I was a bit tensed looking at big classrooms, dedicated teachers for each subject, unknown students and my difficulty to communicate in English. It’s the time, when a person searches for a comfort zone, and Pallavi provided that. She used to sit behind me in the class of 60-70 students. She made me quite comfortable in the huge classroom. Because of her, I got to know my new school better; I started interacting with teachers and my new classmates. As time passed by, I became friends with many, but Pallavi always stayed above all. She could talk for hours together and I had to actually stop her at times. Students in our class started teasing me and relating my name with her. But we never bothered, for me, she was a sister of my dreams and she used to think of me as her elder brother. One day, she suddenly started breathing heavily and almost fell off her class bench. Something was wrong. She didn’t come to class for months after that incident. We all used to get news of her being ill with some heart disease. She joined the class after a prolonged medical treatment, but she could not continue. I couldn’t gather the courage of meeting her. The fear of loosing her after building so much of attachment was making me nervous. She left the school and I didn’t meet her for a decade. Last time, when I went to see her gathering all courage, she was still the same old chatter box, but was searching for life. Some days back she gave up ….I cried silently.
Nana, my Grandfather, he was a comfort factor of our family. We were fearless, when Nana used to be around. Though my parents told me that he used to wear Half-Pants, since my childhood days, I have seen him with Dhoti. When he used to be in Temple, he used to wear the silk dhoti otherwise on all other days it was white Dhoti. He used to be a “Chain- Paan Eater”. But he never used to like us looking at him, when he was preparing a Paan for himself. He was largely involved in temple activities. He didn’t have all pleasures of family life, but he solved problems of others through his involvement in temple. He was a highly respected person and people remember him till date. He had the unique habit of going to market in the morning and returning by taxi, a luxury thing to do in the 80’s. When I lost my mother, He left house, never to return again. After my mother’s death we were only males left in the family and he could not digest that fact. After almost 12 -14 years we performed his last riots, as suggested by Religious books and Law.
Aai, my own Mother. It is very difficult to write something about her. I will never find words and no blog of mine can ever cover her. All I can say, she was the most beautiful woman for me. But one thing is sure, the good things that I possess, whatever that is good in me, are all hers, the bad things are all mine. I kept this last, I knew, I don’t have words for her ….
Laxman, he came to my class when I was in 4th grade. I completed my primary education in my own village. Before he joined me, I was the only “intelligent” student of my class. But he was equally good; in fact better than I was, in many aspects. He was the only brother of his two elder sisters and of course the only boy in the family. He never had healthy body; often he used to fall sick. But, his grasping power was great. That was my first encounter with the competition, tough competition to perform better than him. Apart from that one competition, we became good friends. But suddenly I found 2 parties within the class, one supporting him and other supporting me. Prime Reason for that was the home work, and friends with whom we used to share it. Until now, I was the only source for other students to copy the homework. But now, they had an option. But, he was a team player and he never fought with me over the grades or over the “party” issue. Rather he used to maintain a low profile over his brilliance. He also used to finish his chores and help his family. Now I feel, he could have easily surpassed me in studies, had he devoted more time and if he had good immunity for the seasons and common diseases. I breathed a sigh of relief when I came to know that he moved to some other school after completing 4th grade. But it was painful to know that, after a year or so, he succumbed to a common disease. I knew I lost him forever.
Pallavi, her name was apt for her attitude towards life. Very bubbly, chit chatter, sporty and talented. She was full of life. I met her, when I moved to high school in a near by town. I was a bit tensed looking at big classrooms, dedicated teachers for each subject, unknown students and my difficulty to communicate in English. It’s the time, when a person searches for a comfort zone, and Pallavi provided that. She used to sit behind me in the class of 60-70 students. She made me quite comfortable in the huge classroom. Because of her, I got to know my new school better; I started interacting with teachers and my new classmates. As time passed by, I became friends with many, but Pallavi always stayed above all. She could talk for hours together and I had to actually stop her at times. Students in our class started teasing me and relating my name with her. But we never bothered, for me, she was a sister of my dreams and she used to think of me as her elder brother. One day, she suddenly started breathing heavily and almost fell off her class bench. Something was wrong. She didn’t come to class for months after that incident. We all used to get news of her being ill with some heart disease. She joined the class after a prolonged medical treatment, but she could not continue. I couldn’t gather the courage of meeting her. The fear of loosing her after building so much of attachment was making me nervous. She left the school and I didn’t meet her for a decade. Last time, when I went to see her gathering all courage, she was still the same old chatter box, but was searching for life. Some days back she gave up ….I cried silently.
Nana, my Grandfather, he was a comfort factor of our family. We were fearless, when Nana used to be around. Though my parents told me that he used to wear Half-Pants, since my childhood days, I have seen him with Dhoti. When he used to be in Temple, he used to wear the silk dhoti otherwise on all other days it was white Dhoti. He used to be a “Chain- Paan Eater”. But he never used to like us looking at him, when he was preparing a Paan for himself. He was largely involved in temple activities. He didn’t have all pleasures of family life, but he solved problems of others through his involvement in temple. He was a highly respected person and people remember him till date. He had the unique habit of going to market in the morning and returning by taxi, a luxury thing to do in the 80’s. When I lost my mother, He left house, never to return again. After my mother’s death we were only males left in the family and he could not digest that fact. After almost 12 -14 years we performed his last riots, as suggested by Religious books and Law.
Aai, my own Mother. It is very difficult to write something about her. I will never find words and no blog of mine can ever cover her. All I can say, she was the most beautiful woman for me. But one thing is sure, the good things that I possess, whatever that is good in me, are all hers, the bad things are all mine. I kept this last, I knew, I don’t have words for her ….
Monday, February 15, 2010
My Thousandth Scrap
Well this is not about the scrap that I receive in my account of social networking site. So although its sounds that way, it is mixture of lot of other thoughts which are directly or indirectly related to it. I recall, while doing my schooling, we had nice lesson from eminent footballer Edison Arantes do Nascimento best known as Pele. The title of lesson was “My Thousandth Goal'. Topic itself was so interesting that I used to read it like Bible. Pele describes the days and football matches in his life where he was on verge of scoring his thousandth goal.
I remembered the times when we were graduating. Going for outdoor games was as mandatory as our syllabus and we never left it for option. Games kept on changing as per season. While it was mostly cricket in summer holidays, the fall was mostly packed with wide range of indoor games like table tennis, badminton and outdoor games like football. Whereas these internationally acclaimed game required some costly props to play, Desi version of these games and also desi games were quite cheap. Some of them like Kabbadi only required strong body and bare feet. Getting bruises on the body was the only thing to be proud of in otherwise very strong gang of your friends. It didn't affect our Education. In fact some of us were not bothered of running two business side by side Academics and Sports. School sport was much awaited event in an academic year. Talking hours with your friend on some railings was as mandatory as having food. In fact it was food for mind and recreational activity between games and studies. It was probably the times when obesity was still limited to White Collar Jobs and not seen in schools and colleges.
Not long after we passed out, things have changed drastically. Technology moved fast at the speed of light. Physical games are slowly being replaced by computer games. Youngsters speak about the version of computer games rather then bruises. Finding a gaming zone is easier than finding a friend to play a game. Walking bare foot on ground is alien. Rather there is different set of 'Joota' in our homes too. I have seen youngsters walking on their toes when they are asked to walk bare feet. Sports is not as popular as before and bruises are cured with creams and lotions. Even I saw an advertisement on TV about CD's with popular desi games. Having a social networking site's account elevates your status. And remaining in a touch is possibly chatting using computer chat programs.
All this in interesting as well as funny. Technology advances are better and they change one's life. We are not limited to railings and bruises but world is at finger tips. Distant friend is no longer in a distant memory, he is just a chat away. Web 1.0, Web 2.0 and their subsequent generation are all set to change our day to day life. Technology changes overnight and people still manage to keep pace with it. And if you feel, you did not do something you wanted to do, you still have an option of reincarnation using technology..second life. Someone told me about the advertisement in one of the western countries, which said “Life is Short, get divorced”. Now how funny is that? For people of my age group not as much as it sounds.
Recently one of my acquaintance was boasting his Rs 2 crore flat when we visited his house. It was filled with amazing best of breed gadgets. It had view of Sea on one side and best part of city on other side. Market, School was stone throw away. So was the Bus Stop and Railway Station (although he hardly uses them). After all it was next to busiest street in the city. But one thought made me proud about myselft, his 4 year kid didn't have the play ground or even a small place to be termed as playground. I felt 0.1 crore richer.... he was grossly poor !!. I have decided, I will not boast my thousandth scrap.
I remembered the times when we were graduating. Going for outdoor games was as mandatory as our syllabus and we never left it for option. Games kept on changing as per season. While it was mostly cricket in summer holidays, the fall was mostly packed with wide range of indoor games like table tennis, badminton and outdoor games like football. Whereas these internationally acclaimed game required some costly props to play, Desi version of these games and also desi games were quite cheap. Some of them like Kabbadi only required strong body and bare feet. Getting bruises on the body was the only thing to be proud of in otherwise very strong gang of your friends. It didn't affect our Education. In fact some of us were not bothered of running two business side by side Academics and Sports. School sport was much awaited event in an academic year. Talking hours with your friend on some railings was as mandatory as having food. In fact it was food for mind and recreational activity between games and studies. It was probably the times when obesity was still limited to White Collar Jobs and not seen in schools and colleges.
Not long after we passed out, things have changed drastically. Technology moved fast at the speed of light. Physical games are slowly being replaced by computer games. Youngsters speak about the version of computer games rather then bruises. Finding a gaming zone is easier than finding a friend to play a game. Walking bare foot on ground is alien. Rather there is different set of 'Joota' in our homes too. I have seen youngsters walking on their toes when they are asked to walk bare feet. Sports is not as popular as before and bruises are cured with creams and lotions. Even I saw an advertisement on TV about CD's with popular desi games. Having a social networking site's account elevates your status. And remaining in a touch is possibly chatting using computer chat programs.
All this in interesting as well as funny. Technology advances are better and they change one's life. We are not limited to railings and bruises but world is at finger tips. Distant friend is no longer in a distant memory, he is just a chat away. Web 1.0, Web 2.0 and their subsequent generation are all set to change our day to day life. Technology changes overnight and people still manage to keep pace with it. And if you feel, you did not do something you wanted to do, you still have an option of reincarnation using technology..second life. Someone told me about the advertisement in one of the western countries, which said “Life is Short, get divorced”. Now how funny is that? For people of my age group not as much as it sounds.
Recently one of my acquaintance was boasting his Rs 2 crore flat when we visited his house. It was filled with amazing best of breed gadgets. It had view of Sea on one side and best part of city on other side. Market, School was stone throw away. So was the Bus Stop and Railway Station (although he hardly uses them). After all it was next to busiest street in the city. But one thought made me proud about myselft, his 4 year kid didn't have the play ground or even a small place to be termed as playground. I felt 0.1 crore richer.... he was grossly poor !!. I have decided, I will not boast my thousandth scrap.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
“Anand Sonawane” Ji
Disclaimer: All the characters in this blog are fictitious and any person ……..This blog is provoked by the Phone Call that I received today morning. Well!! I have received similar calls lots of times before also. I received them in a meeting, while traveling, while sleeping and many other occasions which are part of my daily routines.Every time it has left me irritated and I never thought it would find some place in my blog. Some of the content here might also touch the technology aspect making it Technology blog or T-Blog as I call it. But let me not worry about it.
So what was the phone call that I received today morning? ….. While I was making up my mind for going to office and fixing the priorities of my office tasks, I received this call and person from the other side spoke …. “Hello Good morning, Mein XYZ bank se baat kar raha hoon, Kya mein Anand Sonawane Ji se baat kar sakta hoon? “. This has been start of all the wrong numbers that I have received from many other financial organizations for past couple of years. Excluding the time, I have been outside India; I get to hear same lines invariably from these financial giants. Initially I disregarded, thinking it’s a wrong number but as the call frequency grew, I made it a point to tell the person on other side that the number they dialed does not belong to Anand Sonawane but belongs to Yogesh Dhond (Me)…but all in vain. Things have not improved from then, I still receive the calls and I put them off saying “wrong number” … well If you can’t change it … get adjusted to it!! You see!! ?
By now I have understood few things about Anand Sonawane. He is the Customer of “XYZ” bank; incidentally it happens to be my bank as well. He has loan amount of few lakhs in another bank as I receive the calls/SMS to make some pending payment. He has also invested in share market. If at all he incarnates in front of me sometimes in future, I would like tell him all his transactions and surprise him.
Some how these calls have created the Fraud image of Anand Sonawane in my mind and I am awaiting his wife/mother or children calling me saying. “Aaj Aloo ki sabji leke aao” or “Papa, ghar aate waqt sketch pen lana mat bhulna”. Of course this is bit of exaggeration now!! I know, whatever I presumed about Mr. Sonwane is not true and he is not fraudulent also. For he may not be aware of my identity itself neither does he know the “wrong number” syndrome, that I am affected with.
This is where technical person in me got me writing this blog. I have passed through the pains of creating an account with bank, or to buy new mobile connection. I have supplied all those document proofs to comply with the requirement. All I know, that it is mandatory for all of them to know their customer well enough before they do any business with him. There are activities like KYC (know your customer) which are carried out even before they start dealing with me. But, When I get the same calls every time, I can’t stop myself ridiculing the whole system. Believe me, all these calls that I have received, are from organizational giants in their own domain. I remember couple of instances, where I have even requested guy on other side, to delete my phone number against Anand Sonawane’s name. At one instance, I got the call from same department of the bank twice. First time they enquired about Anand Sonawane and second time they enquired about me. I am really not exaggerating this.
It’s really funny to see a very pathetic CRM system being employed by these giants. A good Master Data Management would have been solution to avoid such problems. The companies, banks, mobile operators on the other side of the globe are embracing it, to increase the customer satisfaction. But their equivalent counterparts are probably not even looking at it. In fact, my firm belief is that, the programs such as KYC are pursued in mechanical way to abide the norms put forward by the apex bodies. They do not even pay attention to the spirit involved in it. Hundreds of people are employed to handle the customer complaint without the proper rights of executing the complaints. They don’t even understand that a proper planned Master data solution would save the leakage in their accounts books under the sections “Miscellaneous”. What else would you account for when you dialed same number asking for 2 different people?
This is precisely the reason I feel that it is high time for Indian giants from all the sectors to put their thinking hats on to identify the flaws in the way they handle their consumers. A master data solution or good CRM is their choice. A qualitative way or a quantitative method to run KYC is their choice. Getting their ideas mapped into software world or improving their existing system is their choice. But stitch in time will definitely save nine. Otherwise even a good nation wide ID project would loose big time without the required spirit.
And last but not the least, next time “XYZ” bank calls me …I would definitely like to hear … “Kya mein Yogesh Dhond se baat kar raho hoon?”… Is this an unrealistic dream?
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The Shift of Respect
“Respected Headmaster, Teacher’s, Parents and my dear friends….. “. Some of us know these lines by heart. They used to be start of our public speaking and elocution competitions in schools. Probably we did not understand the meaning of these words then, but they made good lot of impact on us. Rather it was the single word ….“Respected”. Somewhere, unknowingly it cultured us to respect everybody. Respect elders, respect educated, respect intellect, respect life.
The old lady used to be referred to Aai or Maa ji (Mother) and the elderly man used to be Baba, Kaka or Dada (uncle). And we of course had the respect for them when we used to call them by such names. This was true everywhere in my small village and in cities too. And those who didn’t respect elders were categorized as spoilt brats. Giving respect to people was always considered as good behaviour and any such behaviour was appreciated by all.
But my encounter with this city, Mumbai Nagari (also known as Maya Nagari), the city where people flock to achieve their dreams … was unpleasant. On first day itself, rickshawwala called me “Uncle”. Oh Lord!! Am I an uncle at the age of 26? And how can a 50 year old rickshaw guy call me Uncle? It was not long before I understood that I was one amongst the uncles of my age and even younger to me. And the sad part is that there isn’t any feeling of respect behind those words. Possibly the respect was paid to some bucks in my pocket. Now over a period of time, I have got used to such words. In fact, I do not feel offended as I felt the first day.
Today’s incident was different, when my rickshawala again aged 50-55, shouted at the old lady crossing the road ….. Aye mhatarye ho bajula … #&^%$#... (You old lady …get out of the away…bad words). While shouting that he also manoeuvred his rickshaw in such a way that it looked liked we will hit her. The old lady was almost on the other side of the road when this guy was shouting at her and there was ample space for even a monster truck to pass by. But the same ricksha wala applied sudden brakes when some car crossed at the junction without obeying the signal. There wasn’t any disrespect and not even a “good” bad word and there was no manoeuvring. As if he was anticipating the same. Definitely, hitting the car would have been stupid thing to do. For he knew his life is at risk. Again He can’t take the risk of hitting the car, for his rickshaw would be no more. But somewhere a brushing thought came to my mind … is our respect for a human being is limited to self? How bluntly someone can forget the importance of other’s life but at the same time knows to save him. Or was it the money that he would have spent repairing his rickshaw after hitting car? …… !!!
Suddenly, the word uncle started pinching me. The thought of not respecting the old lady but respecting own life made me uneasy. And then, numerous similar instances which I have seen and heard in this city started to revolve as a movie sequence in front of my eye. The disrespected characters were the old lady, the teacher, the headmaster, Parents and the role played by rickshawala was played by today’s handsome, good looking, educated young generation.
It has started giving me subtle pain as I thought I was part of the rickshawala’s crime. I also fall in this educated category of young generation. I could have asked him, “Can’t you stop for sometime till she crosses the road…” But I kept mum as a nice silent boy in movie theatre. I have refrained from talking during many such instances .I am sure many of us would have already.
Of course there are exceptions to this and will always be. But the set of Brats are more in number in this period of global community. Respecting the life, elders, intellect is now probably seen as old fashioned. I really hate it to the core, when people don’t even obey the traffic signal… but every time I managed to be a nice boy in the Movie Theatre. Most of us know that it’s unethical, unlawful and all wrong, but we have managed to maintain silence as we have conveniently adjusted to the fact that we can’t make any difference.
Today, somewhere my conscience has started pricking me!!... Is life not precious? Aren’t we happy that we are living? Aren’t we happy that others are leaving? Are we so materialistic that we cant respect life but started respecting money alone? Shouldn’t we believe that every act should be done in harmony with others? Is our time more important than the life of others? If we don’t run fast will we miss everything in our life? Will there be a day when I will say “Respected Headmaster, Teacher’s, Parents and my Dear friends ….” With same pride and also mean it at the same time? ...Can I make difference?
Can somebody help me (ethical me) to answer these questions!!! … If you have time!!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Spirit that was .... (?)
The terror attacks are over. The life of those who have suffered will take some time to come to normal, for them its ….. no words. The life of those who have not suffered will also come to a normal, only because they were involved only through media and discussions. One more cricket match or probably one good reality show, that’s enough for them. I belong to later community.
Today, I am planning to go to community meeting to pay homage to all those who have died. I guess, we will be paying homage to our dying spirit. Yes, the dying spirit.
Now I have started seriously looking out for the cause of it.
Slowly, the answers started coming my way. The first immediate answer is that, I am me, myself and few others beloved in my life. “The fire” is in somebody else’s house why should I worry? Well, that’s age old symptom, how can I help it.
Then the interesting one, the idiot box, that was not so idiot when I started watching it some 20 years back. But now the news channel and TV serials run in my blood. I cant live without them, I can’t sleep without looking at some Bossy show, some laughter show, some news that tell me “Yes!! Sita and Ram” they existed and they use to bath their in Sri Lanka. Well, that’s how I eat my dinner. How do you think I have managed to stay healthy otherwise? Then I look at life around me. I look all my friends, acquaintance and other citizens of India. I have started to love them, for their “chalta hai” approach. I have started liking them when they don’t even show up patience at the road signal. I have started liking them because they are much more materialistic them I am and why they should not be, after all it’s their hard (?) earn money.
I am also looking at Tiger and Lions and of course different version of them. I like them when they come out to hit their own people but hid themselves when such terror attacks happen. And when everything is over they don’t even hesitate to put a sign board to salute the martyrs and below prominently putting up their names. I have started liking them. After all, it requires great deal of planning.
I look at TV journalist who is shouting for last 3 days (59 hours, I am sorry), when they ask “How do feel now?” to a person who has just came out of such a deadly attack. I love when they ask close relative of person inside Taj hotel “do you really think your person will come out now?’. I really have started liking them all. Without them my life would be incomplete, I would be unhappy. I will go mad. So what if they are killing my spirit?
But, what is hurting me is one sentence of NSG commando. Who after over powering terrorist said “Humare liye sab kuch aasan hai?”(For us everything is easy). This statement is somehow not allowing me to bid good bye to my spirit. The spirit to stand as Indian, to say I don’t want these TV channels, I don’t want tigers and lions, I don’t want to “chalta hai” approach. I want to be like them, like commando. I want to stand as Indian first and nobody else. Today, that NSG commando is my super hero. Thanks boss, for not letting my spirit die.
Today, I am planning to go to community meeting to pay homage to all those who have died. I guess, we will be paying homage to our dying spirit. Yes, the dying spirit.
Now I have started seriously looking out for the cause of it.
Slowly, the answers started coming my way. The first immediate answer is that, I am me, myself and few others beloved in my life. “The fire” is in somebody else’s house why should I worry? Well, that’s age old symptom, how can I help it.
Then the interesting one, the idiot box, that was not so idiot when I started watching it some 20 years back. But now the news channel and TV serials run in my blood. I cant live without them, I can’t sleep without looking at some Bossy show, some laughter show, some news that tell me “Yes!! Sita and Ram” they existed and they use to bath their in Sri Lanka. Well, that’s how I eat my dinner. How do you think I have managed to stay healthy otherwise? Then I look at life around me. I look all my friends, acquaintance and other citizens of India. I have started to love them, for their “chalta hai” approach. I have started liking them when they don’t even show up patience at the road signal. I have started liking them because they are much more materialistic them I am and why they should not be, after all it’s their hard (?) earn money.
I am also looking at Tiger and Lions and of course different version of them. I like them when they come out to hit their own people but hid themselves when such terror attacks happen. And when everything is over they don’t even hesitate to put a sign board to salute the martyrs and below prominently putting up their names. I have started liking them. After all, it requires great deal of planning.
I look at TV journalist who is shouting for last 3 days (59 hours, I am sorry), when they ask “How do feel now?” to a person who has just came out of such a deadly attack. I love when they ask close relative of person inside Taj hotel “do you really think your person will come out now?’. I really have started liking them all. Without them my life would be incomplete, I would be unhappy. I will go mad. So what if they are killing my spirit?
But, what is hurting me is one sentence of NSG commando. Who after over powering terrorist said “Humare liye sab kuch aasan hai?”(For us everything is easy). This statement is somehow not allowing me to bid good bye to my spirit. The spirit to stand as Indian, to say I don’t want these TV channels, I don’t want tigers and lions, I don’t want to “chalta hai” approach. I want to be like them, like commando. I want to stand as Indian first and nobody else. Today, that NSG commando is my super hero. Thanks boss, for not letting my spirit die.
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