दशक आंखे चार … दशक इकरार … दशक हमारा प्यार ..
दशक बसाया संसार …
दशक हम एक .. दशक हम दो .. दशक हम चार
दशक प्रेम कहानी का ..दशक उन्माद जवानी का ..
दशक निर्माण कहानी का ..दशक अपनी दीवानी का ,
दशक परिवर्तन .. दशक अर्जन .. दशक प्रजनन
दशक मेरे गर्जन .. दशक तेरे नयन .. .. दशक पाप मर्दन
दशक समंदर पार … दशक नए आचार ..दशक नया संसार
दशक मेरे हुंकार … दशक तेरा प्यार .. दशक बेशुमार
दशक तेरे हाथ .. दशक तेरा साथ … दशक रूमानी जज़्बात
दशक विश्वास .. दशक एहसास .. दशक हम में - हमारा निवास
दशक सपने सजाने का .. दशक आसमान ज़मीन पे लाने का
दशक कसमें खाने का .. दशक नव पंथ बनाने का
दशक हर्ष .. दशक उल्लास .. दशक प्यास
दशक - बजाऊँ ढोल .. …दशक – बोलूँ अपने बोल ..
दशक - चेय्रू बांसुरी .. नव दशक –नयन तू खोल !
नव दशक .. नव कसक .. नव हर्ष .. नव उल्लास …
नव दशक - प्रारंभ नयी कहानी का
नव दशक सफलता .. नव दशक उड़ान .. नव दशक मचान
नव दशक उत्साह .. नव दशक आशा … नव दशक शांति
नव दशक रोमांच .. नव दशक खुमारी
नव दशक बेकरारी -
नव दशक तुम पूजा – मैं पुजारी !!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Hope .. This Elections!
I saw it in hurry in connaught place , Delhi....
Weary n tired of life.. struggling to move but appeared confident to get to its destination
The one at Chowranghee, Calcutta looked enervated, a bit shabby...
More of a herd, Where each one is in search of its own patch of grass...
The one at Paltan Bazar, Gauhati looked slow... a bit emaciated, a meal sustains it for days..
The slow pace was a bit deceiving...For here also the eyes burnt with desire..
Thought the one in the Shillong valley would sparkle like a virgin.. but was dissappointed!
Yes! The face of the crowd all over is the same...
Mutilated and Disfigured...
Its desired and ambitions raped and obliterated by the ones at helm..
WILL SOMEONE RISE ABOVE THIS TIME AND PERFORM THE PLASTIC SURGERY?????
Weary n tired of life.. struggling to move but appeared confident to get to its destination
The one at Chowranghee, Calcutta looked enervated, a bit shabby...
More of a herd, Where each one is in search of its own patch of grass...
The one at Paltan Bazar, Gauhati looked slow... a bit emaciated, a meal sustains it for days..
The slow pace was a bit deceiving...For here also the eyes burnt with desire..
Thought the one in the Shillong valley would sparkle like a virgin.. but was dissappointed!
Yes! The face of the crowd all over is the same...
Mutilated and Disfigured...
Its desired and ambitions raped and obliterated by the ones at helm..
WILL SOMEONE RISE ABOVE THIS TIME AND PERFORM THE PLASTIC SURGERY?????
Saturday, October 2, 2010
तेरा चेहरा
तेरा चेहरा .. ढूँढू मेरी जान ...
तेरा चेहरा ..ढूँढू मेरी जान ...तेरा चेहरा !!
किसको भूलूँ .. किसको मांगूं .. किसको मैं याद करूँ ??
क्यूँ की गूंजे हर पल .. तेरा चेहरा ...ओह हो .... तेरा चेहरा ...
सोंचूं , .तेरा चेहरा .. मांगूं , तेरा चेहरा ...
जानूं .. मेरा हीं है ... तेरा चेहरा !
कैसे बोलूँ .. केवल मैं एहसास करूँ .. संग मेरे ...तेरा चेहरा !
सोचूँ बहुत , जाऊं किधर , फिर भी सिर्फ तुझ पे ऐतबार करूँ .. तेरा चेहरा !!
मेरी पुरानी गिटार.. awesome था उसका इकरार .. दो धरक्ते दिलों का संसार .. था उसमे डूबा मेरा अंगार ....
फिर भी मैं .. आज चाहूं , आज ढूँढू .. तेरा प्यार .. तेरा चेहरा - तेरा प्यार !
ढूँढू तेरा चेहरा .. तेरा प्यार !!
तेरा चेहरा ..ढूँढू मेरी जान ...तेरा चेहरा !!
किसको भूलूँ .. किसको मांगूं .. किसको मैं याद करूँ ??
क्यूँ की गूंजे हर पल .. तेरा चेहरा ...ओह हो .... तेरा चेहरा ...
सोंचूं , .तेरा चेहरा .. मांगूं , तेरा चेहरा ...
जानूं .. मेरा हीं है ... तेरा चेहरा !
कैसे बोलूँ .. केवल मैं एहसास करूँ .. संग मेरे ...तेरा चेहरा !
सोचूँ बहुत , जाऊं किधर , फिर भी सिर्फ तुझ पे ऐतबार करूँ .. तेरा चेहरा !!
मेरी पुरानी गिटार.. awesome था उसका इकरार .. दो धरक्ते दिलों का संसार .. था उसमे डूबा मेरा अंगार ....
फिर भी मैं .. आज चाहूं , आज ढूँढू .. तेरा प्यार .. तेरा चेहरा - तेरा प्यार !
ढूँढू तेरा चेहरा .. तेरा प्यार !!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
तुम हो!
तुम हो!
मेरी चुप्पी मे .. तुम हो
मेरे शब्दों में भी ... तुम हो
मीठी बातों की सीमा रेखा , प्यार की फुलझरियां .. तुम हो
अनर्गल कटु शब्दों में भी... तुम हो
मुख से निकले बाण मेरे.... वो भी तुम हो
अधरों से गिरे फूल... तुम हो
मन में बसी पीड़ा ... तुम हो
मेरे विशाल ह्रदय का, प्यार , बेशुमार .... तुम हो
मेरे माथे पे पसीने की बूँदें ... तुम हो
उसे सुखाता शीतल हवा का झोंका ... तुम हो
रोष से लोहित हुआ मेरा चेहरा...तुम हो
मेरा हर्ष .. तुम हो! मेरा उल्लास भी.. तुम हो!
मैं में .. तुम हो
मैं हीं.. तुम हो!
मैं भी .. तुम हो
मेरी चुप्पी मे .. तुम हो
मेरे शब्दों में भी ... तुम हो
मीठी बातों की सीमा रेखा , प्यार की फुलझरियां .. तुम हो
अनर्गल कटु शब्दों में भी... तुम हो
मुख से निकले बाण मेरे.... वो भी तुम हो
अधरों से गिरे फूल... तुम हो
मन में बसी पीड़ा ... तुम हो
मेरे विशाल ह्रदय का, प्यार , बेशुमार .... तुम हो
मेरे माथे पे पसीने की बूँदें ... तुम हो
उसे सुखाता शीतल हवा का झोंका ... तुम हो
रोष से लोहित हुआ मेरा चेहरा...तुम हो
मेरा हर्ष .. तुम हो! मेरा उल्लास भी.. तुम हो!
मैं में .. तुम हो
मैं हीं.. तुम हो!
मैं भी .. तुम हो
Saturday, July 31, 2010
दौड़
दौड़
आज मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल हूँ
जो कब शुरू हुई पता हीँ न चला
कल रात जब सोया था
बडे चैन से सोया था
सुबह होने पे खुद खो बेचैन पाया, शायद थोडा व्यग्र भी
खुच माहौल में चिल्ल पों , साथियों की buck उप की आवाजें
और शायद मन में खुछ कर गुजरने की इक्छा
पलक झपकते हीँ ,शायद मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल था !
आज मैं अकेला सोया हूँ
सुकून और शांति हम बिस्तर होने की बात मुस्कुरा कर टाल गयीं
उनका कहना है- मै किसी गुप्त रोग से पीड़ित हूँ!
हकीम का कहना है - यह मर्ज़ हीं लाइलाज है
बशर्ते की ये दौड़ ख़त्म हो!
ये दौड़ कब ख़त्म होगी....
आज मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल हूँ
जो कब शुरू हुई पता हीँ न चला
कल रात जब सोया था
बडे चैन से सोया था
सुबह होने पे खुद खो बेचैन पाया, शायद थोडा व्यग्र भी
खुच माहौल में चिल्ल पों , साथियों की buck उप की आवाजें
और शायद मन में खुछ कर गुजरने की इक्छा
पलक झपकते हीँ ,शायद मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल था !
आज मैं अकेला सोया हूँ
सुकून और शांति हम बिस्तर होने की बात मुस्कुरा कर टाल गयीं
उनका कहना है- मै किसी गुप्त रोग से पीड़ित हूँ!
हकीम का कहना है - यह मर्ज़ हीं लाइलाज है
बशर्ते की ये दौड़ ख़त्म हो!
ये दौड़ कब ख़त्म होगी....
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Mexico 86 and South Africa 2010- My Memories of Soccer indulgence!
Mexico 86 and South Africa 2010- My Memories of Soccer indulgence!
Circa 86- A gawky 13 year old, grade 7 student is building his castles in his dreams . He waits anxiously , eagerly and salivates for the kick off for the 86 world cup. The scene is further made easy with his elder brother Nikhil, feeling his excitement, gets his parents to buy a new colour TV!! The stage is all set for the grand finale…..
I was growing up in my own “hiccup- tical” ways- playing cricket, soccer, volleyball, athletics, table tennis, chess et al but soccer , for reasons faded in memory, remained very close to the heart! Carl Lewis, giant of an athlete post jesse owens, would haunt the dreams and so would our desi greats, Sunny gavaskar and Kapil Dev! The football stars occupying similar status were not from brazeel but from oh, so cool, Calcutta clubs!! Few school seniors like Randhir singh and sanjay ahirwaal would trespass the dreams sometimes. These were the soccer favourites of my pre teen years -
That year, we had 2 periods each of 35 minutes for soccer per week and that was one high time for all of us! We never missed school on those two days ( Tuesday and Fridays for us!), would plan for it a day before and dream of scoring a goal the previous night !! In grade 7 and 8 , we were the soccer section!! We had beaten all the other sections comprehensively in last two years. The stalwarts like manish kumar “ dhawak aka gwala”, Sunil sinha “ Kodhi” and sumit kumar “ singh” were already knocking on the doors of school team. Soccer had become our real passion while we followed other sports with similar spirit! Adpoting this life time passion in grade 8, I think, I became a global citizen , a lot before embarking for the unknown lands in year 2000.
The world was not inundated with media then… EPL and La liga were virtually unseen off apart the few erratic columns dedicated to them in sports section of times of India and Hindustan times… The journal de jour!
One was intoxicated on the wiles , guiles and dribbling of the stars of the three tittilators of Indian soccer fan – the three Calcutta clubs- East Bengal, Mohun Bagan and Mohammdean sporting.. Cricket had the most important status in the lives and minds of the entire country and for our generation, more so post the 1983 world cup victory but the escapades of these three clubs came only a close second .
The issue after issue of “sports star” and “sports world” which did give lots of coverage to the CPL ( common persons league! ) were diligently kept between the course books and every section was virtually memorized.
The exposure to world soccer was limited to print pages and a few documentaries on the God Pele on our own Door –Darshan, the national TV channel! Though , one gorged on all that the print media had to offer about the English summer of 66 , cryuff’s cunning craft of 74 or the way Italians inundation of 82! The history in pages created more awe , more dreams and more excitement in those adolescence years; much more than anything else could provide that time.
This B division team from Germany came to play 7 matches in india in 84/85 . Every match was telecast live on Dooor – Darshan ( the ball remained quite far from the screen!). Each match afternoons were meticulously planned and those 90 mimutes would take the breath away. First exposure to the western toughness. The wizardy , the guile of satyajit chaterjee’s and subroto banerjee’s and the safe hands of bhaskar ganguly appeared so humane and fallible (Almost the entire Indian 11 then would be from Calcutta- the soccer capital! With a few thrown in from Goa or Kerela.)
The TV revolution had just revolutionized our little world and we could think , breathe and visualize colours . One could dream of the yellows of samba, the bleu azzurris , oranje from the dutch land, the Spanish red , the light bleu stripes of the argentinians . The magic was building up… I could feel it in my fingers and I could feel it in my toes!!
Further all the print reports about magic of the short , rotund magician from Buenos aires were making the air even more exciting!
The print pages and our experts from the maidan of calcutta ( Pls note india had been a Olympic semifinalists and asian champions in few decades preceding 80’s!) called it as the cup of the mid fielders/ attacking midfielders. I couldn’t get the logic as I would think the world soccer would still be defensive in approach with the Italian wall having stolen the cup away the last time. I was glad , it was moving forward anyway!
The curly haired magician, Michel platini was all ready to sound his bugle. The deadly trio of Gullit, Van basten and Rijjkard wanted to do what cryuff couldn’t and were riding high on recent success. Sans smoke mais déjà mari (jua) nated magician maradona was showing off the rippling thighs in his short, stout frame. My favourite .. the low profile, gentleman from the streets of rio.. who could weave magic when needed , was Zico ! The prayers for brazeel started that fateful year and have continued since then!!
Brazeel has been the favourite since then and ritualistic prayers have ensured the ones around have followed my efforts of asking the gods to shower special blessings on the yellow jerseys! My 20 month old sang Brazeee and my 6 year old forced leezy, our dear dutch friend, to wipe off the dutch colours from his cheeks during the Brazilian dutch encounter in 2010. Am glad to have passed on the love for samba magic!!
Mexican waves , maradona’s last laugh both with the hand of god goal and goal of the century, zico’s drooping shoulders after the penalty fumble remain firmly embedded in my memory . I was initiated into the world soccer with late night matches being played on the other side of the planet.
Circa 2010
The world has changed, La liga, EPL and bundesliga are all over television, live. The club transfers of players is tracked and discussed over social gatherings. The fairer sex chants Go Espanyol and talks more of Messi than the usual messy stuff!
The stage was set with the vuvuzelas blowing the world away . It announced African arrival on the world stage in a loud, boisterous and in an emphatic manner. We were gifted two vuvus by chimene and Amelia , our south african friends! They became Rudra’s swords for the entire festive period.
Messi floundered, italinas withered, French bickered, German machinery was visible only in parts, England aka lampard could not be more unlucky but cant blame the queen f and my favourites brazeel bombed while trying out a new dung-a– soccer!
The two finalist did steal the heart away! Dutch played beautiful soccer and for a change kept winning !.. The espanyol delieverd when mattered.
We had a wonderful mix of friends watching the matches at bars, embassies, friends places and the final at dutch ambassador’s residence. The boisterous blowing by rudra on the Spanish goal stunned the entire gathering ! While I rejoiced the Spanish victory , my heart did ache for the magnificent dutch..!
For the entire period, Rudra blew his vuvuzela as much as he could and we got to bond together!! Even though brazeel lost and messi messed, I initiated him into the fantastic world of soccer.. My magic potion from the Cup of 2010!!
Circa 86- A gawky 13 year old, grade 7 student is building his castles in his dreams . He waits anxiously , eagerly and salivates for the kick off for the 86 world cup. The scene is further made easy with his elder brother Nikhil, feeling his excitement, gets his parents to buy a new colour TV!! The stage is all set for the grand finale…..
I was growing up in my own “hiccup- tical” ways- playing cricket, soccer, volleyball, athletics, table tennis, chess et al but soccer , for reasons faded in memory, remained very close to the heart! Carl Lewis, giant of an athlete post jesse owens, would haunt the dreams and so would our desi greats, Sunny gavaskar and Kapil Dev! The football stars occupying similar status were not from brazeel but from oh, so cool, Calcutta clubs!! Few school seniors like Randhir singh and sanjay ahirwaal would trespass the dreams sometimes. These were the soccer favourites of my pre teen years -
That year, we had 2 periods each of 35 minutes for soccer per week and that was one high time for all of us! We never missed school on those two days ( Tuesday and Fridays for us!), would plan for it a day before and dream of scoring a goal the previous night !! In grade 7 and 8 , we were the soccer section!! We had beaten all the other sections comprehensively in last two years. The stalwarts like manish kumar “ dhawak aka gwala”, Sunil sinha “ Kodhi” and sumit kumar “ singh” were already knocking on the doors of school team. Soccer had become our real passion while we followed other sports with similar spirit! Adpoting this life time passion in grade 8, I think, I became a global citizen , a lot before embarking for the unknown lands in year 2000.
The world was not inundated with media then… EPL and La liga were virtually unseen off apart the few erratic columns dedicated to them in sports section of times of India and Hindustan times… The journal de jour!
One was intoxicated on the wiles , guiles and dribbling of the stars of the three tittilators of Indian soccer fan – the three Calcutta clubs- East Bengal, Mohun Bagan and Mohammdean sporting.. Cricket had the most important status in the lives and minds of the entire country and for our generation, more so post the 1983 world cup victory but the escapades of these three clubs came only a close second .
The issue after issue of “sports star” and “sports world” which did give lots of coverage to the CPL ( common persons league! ) were diligently kept between the course books and every section was virtually memorized.
The exposure to world soccer was limited to print pages and a few documentaries on the God Pele on our own Door –Darshan, the national TV channel! Though , one gorged on all that the print media had to offer about the English summer of 66 , cryuff’s cunning craft of 74 or the way Italians inundation of 82! The history in pages created more awe , more dreams and more excitement in those adolescence years; much more than anything else could provide that time.
This B division team from Germany came to play 7 matches in india in 84/85 . Every match was telecast live on Dooor – Darshan ( the ball remained quite far from the screen!). Each match afternoons were meticulously planned and those 90 mimutes would take the breath away. First exposure to the western toughness. The wizardy , the guile of satyajit chaterjee’s and subroto banerjee’s and the safe hands of bhaskar ganguly appeared so humane and fallible (Almost the entire Indian 11 then would be from Calcutta- the soccer capital! With a few thrown in from Goa or Kerela.)
The TV revolution had just revolutionized our little world and we could think , breathe and visualize colours . One could dream of the yellows of samba, the bleu azzurris , oranje from the dutch land, the Spanish red , the light bleu stripes of the argentinians . The magic was building up… I could feel it in my fingers and I could feel it in my toes!!
Further all the print reports about magic of the short , rotund magician from Buenos aires were making the air even more exciting!
The print pages and our experts from the maidan of calcutta ( Pls note india had been a Olympic semifinalists and asian champions in few decades preceding 80’s!) called it as the cup of the mid fielders/ attacking midfielders. I couldn’t get the logic as I would think the world soccer would still be defensive in approach with the Italian wall having stolen the cup away the last time. I was glad , it was moving forward anyway!
The curly haired magician, Michel platini was all ready to sound his bugle. The deadly trio of Gullit, Van basten and Rijjkard wanted to do what cryuff couldn’t and were riding high on recent success. Sans smoke mais déjà mari (jua) nated magician maradona was showing off the rippling thighs in his short, stout frame. My favourite .. the low profile, gentleman from the streets of rio.. who could weave magic when needed , was Zico ! The prayers for brazeel started that fateful year and have continued since then!!
Brazeel has been the favourite since then and ritualistic prayers have ensured the ones around have followed my efforts of asking the gods to shower special blessings on the yellow jerseys! My 20 month old sang Brazeee and my 6 year old forced leezy, our dear dutch friend, to wipe off the dutch colours from his cheeks during the Brazilian dutch encounter in 2010. Am glad to have passed on the love for samba magic!!
Mexican waves , maradona’s last laugh both with the hand of god goal and goal of the century, zico’s drooping shoulders after the penalty fumble remain firmly embedded in my memory . I was initiated into the world soccer with late night matches being played on the other side of the planet.
Circa 2010
The world has changed, La liga, EPL and bundesliga are all over television, live. The club transfers of players is tracked and discussed over social gatherings. The fairer sex chants Go Espanyol and talks more of Messi than the usual messy stuff!
The stage was set with the vuvuzelas blowing the world away . It announced African arrival on the world stage in a loud, boisterous and in an emphatic manner. We were gifted two vuvus by chimene and Amelia , our south african friends! They became Rudra’s swords for the entire festive period.
Messi floundered, italinas withered, French bickered, German machinery was visible only in parts, England aka lampard could not be more unlucky but cant blame the queen f and my favourites brazeel bombed while trying out a new dung-a– soccer!
The two finalist did steal the heart away! Dutch played beautiful soccer and for a change kept winning !.. The espanyol delieverd when mattered.
We had a wonderful mix of friends watching the matches at bars, embassies, friends places and the final at dutch ambassador’s residence. The boisterous blowing by rudra on the Spanish goal stunned the entire gathering ! While I rejoiced the Spanish victory , my heart did ache for the magnificent dutch..!
For the entire period, Rudra blew his vuvuzela as much as he could and we got to bond together!! Even though brazeel lost and messi messed, I initiated him into the fantastic world of soccer.. My magic potion from the Cup of 2010!!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Development!
The Mango tree in front of my house!
It stands tall and arrogant ….Have seen it erect ..all by itself .. challenging the others in the lane with its swagger and with the circumference of its chest.. Always happy and fresh .. I have seen it for the last five years… It has nurtured my feelings and emotions all these years .. I have only taken from it…. Never given back anything…
He ..and not it… is unique… He has fruits all the year round!!
Any point of time…it has small green sour mangoes hanging on the fresh branches.. i love them in my pickle bottle..
It always has some mature green ones which are untouchables for me and who I leave to enjoy the transition from puberty to ripe youth…
There are a few orange, few semi red, few semi yellow.. some half green and half yellow.. and some with plethora of shades making it the fruit royal!
I taught my son colours couple of years back…green .. orange , what red is and of course yellow ... The mango tree aided me in the same..
The tree has been with US for years now… He is part of our daily chores.. When he wants to shed some leaves. it adds to the chores of our gardener ..
He gives us the most delicious mangoes ….
My Mango tree is the best .. sturdiest, longest, greenest hunk of the lane!
A sad Thursday.. viral fever afflicting of us and then this un-green scene in the lane..
I have counted 72 chopped trunks in the lane -today!!!
All in the name of infrastructural development..
My tree still sways with its usual swagger… I dread the coming weeks..
Just saw a Chinese mark vehicle with a Chinese gentleman talking to my security guard!
God bless the week ahead
It stands tall and arrogant ….Have seen it erect ..all by itself .. challenging the others in the lane with its swagger and with the circumference of its chest.. Always happy and fresh .. I have seen it for the last five years… It has nurtured my feelings and emotions all these years .. I have only taken from it…. Never given back anything…
He ..and not it… is unique… He has fruits all the year round!!
Any point of time…it has small green sour mangoes hanging on the fresh branches.. i love them in my pickle bottle..
It always has some mature green ones which are untouchables for me and who I leave to enjoy the transition from puberty to ripe youth…
There are a few orange, few semi red, few semi yellow.. some half green and half yellow.. and some with plethora of shades making it the fruit royal!
I taught my son colours couple of years back…green .. orange , what red is and of course yellow ... The mango tree aided me in the same..
The tree has been with US for years now… He is part of our daily chores.. When he wants to shed some leaves. it adds to the chores of our gardener ..
He gives us the most delicious mangoes ….
My Mango tree is the best .. sturdiest, longest, greenest hunk of the lane!
A sad Thursday.. viral fever afflicting of us and then this un-green scene in the lane..
I have counted 72 chopped trunks in the lane -today!!!
All in the name of infrastructural development..
My tree still sways with its usual swagger… I dread the coming weeks..
Just saw a Chinese mark vehicle with a Chinese gentleman talking to my security guard!
God bless the week ahead
Sunday, May 23, 2010
A Day with the Bonobos…
Promises to keep.! One is often burdened with the heavy responsibilities that come along with this seven letter word- Promise! This one was made early this week to my 5.5 year old son. Visit to Bonobos reserve park this Sunday! And I couldn’t escape the ordeal of driving some 30 kms away from the city to visit this reserve park for Bonobos. In the bargain , I missed out on my tennis and the mutton Biryani.
While my son had made elaborate plans which ranged from peanuts and bananas for Bonobos and marsh mellows, chips, juice and sandwiches for the visitors, I was more keen on the 3 kilometer trek through the woods.
And the bag had to be prepared the evening before ! Yes we went to the super market at 9 pm to ensure we had stuff which suited the pallete of the mighty Bonobos, The peanuts at home were summarily rejected by Rudra because they were spicy and the bonobos might not relish that!!
Bonobos- 98% of the genetic imprint is like homo sapiens . Could see that; They could peel off bananas in a more dexterous manner than me! . Found only in the Congos – precisely to the south of river Congo, They were elevated to a species status in early 20th century. Till then they were considered to be from the family of chimpanzees and are still popularly known as pygmy or dwarf chimps.
The most amazing thing which I noticed when a bonobos spread its palm to take a banana from Rudra- The presence of heart line, head line and a life line – akin to the human palm…
Are palmists and astrologers listening…
I kept trying hard to delve into the 2 % difference in the genetic imprint from the Homo sapiens .. I couldn’t observe a thing till the guide enlightened me –
When the Bonobos have a disagreement with each other they tend to hug or share food instead of having a fight. Bonobos have never been observed to KILL each other.
How different from the Homo Sapiens!!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
EXPATS IN DARK CONTINENT
The Dark Continent has its own ways of getting the glue with its expatriates. Wish the expats themselves could answer it. The oft debated and deliberated upon topic over a glass of scotch- How and why do they continue to live for months, years and decades in this part of the world. Myriad responses emerge - Some very black or white, some have grey shades but the best that I have ever heard has been from a Greek friend of mine- “I have lived my dream here”!!
It is vague but the bondage between the continent and its expatriate inhabitants is quite unique….
In my decade long stay, I have come across expatriates of all kinds in Africa.
They range from a fourth generation Asian expatriate; an owner of a few hundred million dollar biz empire. Born in Africa; the person did his schooling in Africa and then moved over to US for university and masters. Having served for few years in Europe, middle east and south east financial capitals and in high profile financial institutions, Has come back to control the African empire . A difficult and unique decision but he wants to be where the bucks come from…
There are other 3rd generation Indian expats who don’t know what India is but have built a biz model which can be envied by entrepreneurs with training in elite Business Schools or those teaching entrepreneurship skills at Harvard business school. They will smoke and drink anything but will always eat Indian cuisine at home though peppered with generous amounts of the hot – err hottest pilli pilli and still use their native language to converse within the family. They have localized to a large extent and understand the local terrain and local language very well. They go to school in Switzerland and university in US/ Canada but will remain an Indian at heart. Unique they are!
Another group is of second generation Indian expats.. With parents willing to stick out their neck in the chaotic times of sixties and seventies in Africa, they stand to have inherited a fortune due to the exodus of the previous rulers of their colonies. They used the newly acquired fortune to study in US universities and then come back to handle the fledgling businesses with high real estate values. Many of this breed lead an aristocratic life with an US colored view of world while financing their elite lifestyle of driving luxurious cars , champagne evenings and super elite holidays with greens earned from this dark land.
An admirable set of hardworking, thrift spenders, maintaining a normal style even after having made a fortune is of First generation entrepreneurs who arrived in early eighties and strived hard in the difficult times to make it big. A very admirable set who still know the value of money and who still spend long hours day after day trying to maximize their return on investment.
There are hordes of CAs, MBAs and engineers from India who have made Africa their haven, some came for a few years to make some quick bucks and then carry on with their life. Most stayed on... few moved to Australia and Canada after having saved ENOUGH and very few returned home to eat the parathas as they couldn’t survive this world.
There are many who came and didn’t make it big but sill did enough to ensure a good life for family and self. They got into basic trading business and carried on!!
This is the largest set of expat set across the continent. There are hordes of traders and shop owners of asian and Lebanese origin selling toothpaste to tomato paste.
I have also come across tons of young clumsy teens from villages of Gujarat and Kutch. On the behest of relatives or someone from extended family, they ventured into the unknown land and have survived managing shops of their owners and saving a few hundred dollars every month. The night clubs of Africa and the many of the local birds flying inside the dark alleys of the club owe their living to these gentlemen.
A different but unique genre is of the men who have betrothed local women from powerful local families. This has helped them to get special concessions required to launch big businesses and make tremendous wealth. Salutations to this set on their high degree of adaptability.
The continent was inundated with Greek gods during the decades of sixties to 80’s. The entire trade in agri commodities was in hands of our Greek brethren. They would talk proudly of their ancient heritage with the assumption that they were born to dominate wherever they were. Their dominance has considerably waned over last few decades but their life style, their self confidence and their belief in the continents wealth generating capabilities ensured they continue to eke their dreams here! Yes, they still are lords of coffee going to coffers of nestle or beans of cocoa circumventing their ways into factories of Cadburys.
I have a large set of friends whose grandfathers were part of the colonial empire. While the MEN in question moved back to France, Belgium Portugal or England way back when the African nations ushered in independence, their progeny found it hard to get away. They were so used to the the basic comfort of the place while growing up and the belief that they were more networked here than in their European terrain, decided to stay over here. Some of them had followed their grandparents ; but returned within few years to make a living out here. They still live a great life here. They ride horses. Travel all over the world to watch Formula one , own properties in key locations in Europe and holiday in exotic locations. They are more African than many native Africans. They feel more at home in this native land. Europe remains a holiday and shopping destination for them.
I have plethora of friends who left their troubled land of Lebanon a few decades back and made the continent as their home. The entire trade in west and central Africa is dominated by our Lebanese brothers. Most of them have thrived on the chaos of the last 30 years and have made a rock solid business empire. They have a large set of young boys from their villages who help them monitor this business empire. These are the ones who are the most visible Lebanese face in the restos, night clubs and places of interest to any tourist. And count on their gelled wet look and an enormous swagger when they enter a night club! Kudos to their self confidence! Most of them still need to sit for the pre university exams!
I have also come across friends who serve in embassies of different developed or developing countries. These belong to the haloed set who live life king size in big mansions, play golf 10 hours a week and still make money-;). Many of them want to prolong their stay in Africa.
These are the expats who sit and shine in the dark land, they use the African safari into a worthwhile adventure to make a career, a business, a life and live their dream.
Give it to all kinds of these expats… They have made a choice and have lived it to the hilt.
And To my friends, peers and family who wonder on my choices in life--
Two roads diverged in a wood, I chose the one less travelled and that has made all the difference!
लीक पर वें चलें जिनकेचरण दुर्बल और हारे हैं,
हमें तो जो हमारी यात्रा से बनेऐसे अनिर्मित पन्थ प्यारे हैं ।
It is vague but the bondage between the continent and its expatriate inhabitants is quite unique….
In my decade long stay, I have come across expatriates of all kinds in Africa.
They range from a fourth generation Asian expatriate; an owner of a few hundred million dollar biz empire. Born in Africa; the person did his schooling in Africa and then moved over to US for university and masters. Having served for few years in Europe, middle east and south east financial capitals and in high profile financial institutions, Has come back to control the African empire . A difficult and unique decision but he wants to be where the bucks come from…
There are other 3rd generation Indian expats who don’t know what India is but have built a biz model which can be envied by entrepreneurs with training in elite Business Schools or those teaching entrepreneurship skills at Harvard business school. They will smoke and drink anything but will always eat Indian cuisine at home though peppered with generous amounts of the hot – err hottest pilli pilli and still use their native language to converse within the family. They have localized to a large extent and understand the local terrain and local language very well. They go to school in Switzerland and university in US/ Canada but will remain an Indian at heart. Unique they are!
Another group is of second generation Indian expats.. With parents willing to stick out their neck in the chaotic times of sixties and seventies in Africa, they stand to have inherited a fortune due to the exodus of the previous rulers of their colonies. They used the newly acquired fortune to study in US universities and then come back to handle the fledgling businesses with high real estate values. Many of this breed lead an aristocratic life with an US colored view of world while financing their elite lifestyle of driving luxurious cars , champagne evenings and super elite holidays with greens earned from this dark land.
An admirable set of hardworking, thrift spenders, maintaining a normal style even after having made a fortune is of First generation entrepreneurs who arrived in early eighties and strived hard in the difficult times to make it big. A very admirable set who still know the value of money and who still spend long hours day after day trying to maximize their return on investment.
There are hordes of CAs, MBAs and engineers from India who have made Africa their haven, some came for a few years to make some quick bucks and then carry on with their life. Most stayed on... few moved to Australia and Canada after having saved ENOUGH and very few returned home to eat the parathas as they couldn’t survive this world.
There are many who came and didn’t make it big but sill did enough to ensure a good life for family and self. They got into basic trading business and carried on!!
This is the largest set of expat set across the continent. There are hordes of traders and shop owners of asian and Lebanese origin selling toothpaste to tomato paste.
I have also come across tons of young clumsy teens from villages of Gujarat and Kutch. On the behest of relatives or someone from extended family, they ventured into the unknown land and have survived managing shops of their owners and saving a few hundred dollars every month. The night clubs of Africa and the many of the local birds flying inside the dark alleys of the club owe their living to these gentlemen.
A different but unique genre is of the men who have betrothed local women from powerful local families. This has helped them to get special concessions required to launch big businesses and make tremendous wealth. Salutations to this set on their high degree of adaptability.
The continent was inundated with Greek gods during the decades of sixties to 80’s. The entire trade in agri commodities was in hands of our Greek brethren. They would talk proudly of their ancient heritage with the assumption that they were born to dominate wherever they were. Their dominance has considerably waned over last few decades but their life style, their self confidence and their belief in the continents wealth generating capabilities ensured they continue to eke their dreams here! Yes, they still are lords of coffee going to coffers of nestle or beans of cocoa circumventing their ways into factories of Cadburys.
I have a large set of friends whose grandfathers were part of the colonial empire. While the MEN in question moved back to France, Belgium Portugal or England way back when the African nations ushered in independence, their progeny found it hard to get away. They were so used to the the basic comfort of the place while growing up and the belief that they were more networked here than in their European terrain, decided to stay over here. Some of them had followed their grandparents ; but returned within few years to make a living out here. They still live a great life here. They ride horses. Travel all over the world to watch Formula one , own properties in key locations in Europe and holiday in exotic locations. They are more African than many native Africans. They feel more at home in this native land. Europe remains a holiday and shopping destination for them.
I have plethora of friends who left their troubled land of Lebanon a few decades back and made the continent as their home. The entire trade in west and central Africa is dominated by our Lebanese brothers. Most of them have thrived on the chaos of the last 30 years and have made a rock solid business empire. They have a large set of young boys from their villages who help them monitor this business empire. These are the ones who are the most visible Lebanese face in the restos, night clubs and places of interest to any tourist. And count on their gelled wet look and an enormous swagger when they enter a night club! Kudos to their self confidence! Most of them still need to sit for the pre university exams!
I have also come across friends who serve in embassies of different developed or developing countries. These belong to the haloed set who live life king size in big mansions, play golf 10 hours a week and still make money-;). Many of them want to prolong their stay in Africa.
These are the expats who sit and shine in the dark land, they use the African safari into a worthwhile adventure to make a career, a business, a life and live their dream.
Give it to all kinds of these expats… They have made a choice and have lived it to the hilt.
And To my friends, peers and family who wonder on my choices in life--
Two roads diverged in a wood, I chose the one less travelled and that has made all the difference!
लीक पर वें चलें जिनकेचरण दुर्बल और हारे हैं,
हमें तो जो हमारी यात्रा से बनेऐसे अनिर्मित पन्थ प्यारे हैं ।
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
To my Niece- Shreya- Bon Chance!!
The countdown has begun ! Next month would be your month. For you will weave magic , wriggle out of challenging hours with a big grin and achieve glory.. Inshallah!
This is a momentous occasion, Grade 10 exams! Let me take you through the reason why so much importance is associated in our psyche to this silly test .
Pre Independence times ,only the elite Indians went to the university. Any native who was a matriculate was respected , considered educated and was guaranteed a job. Post independence many more people got access to university but the basic defining criterion for having having the halo of intelligence remained the percentage scored in grade 10.
Moreover , In the India of 60s to 90s, Plus two education was still carried in universities. Thus, The grade 10 scores acquired paramount importance for they opened the gates of the premier universities which of course ensured you had a tag worthy of a good career. And the importance of a good tag of a good university has always made one comfortable in an interview room.
Ask the previous two generations how they sweated it out for grade 10 scores and u know the reason now!
Times have changed and evolved for better. Grade 10 scores neither give u the tag of “ educated” and guarantee a job like pre independence times. Neither do they get you into a premier university .
You could end up walking in the same corridors of DPS with the same bunch of friends. Hence, there is nothing much you can do with the scores you get here. This is not the world cup final and this is not the last ball where a six has to be hit for victory. This is just a friendly match!!
This should take off the pressure. Take a deep long breath and feel the sudden magic in yourself ! Coz there is no pressure! You can feel you can play all the strokes and play a gem of an innings ! This can only happen when there is no pressure and there is no pressure cause the stakes are not very high. So go ahead and hit sixes and make a century! You can do it !
But this Match has its own importance and that is much more than getting in a university which is a brand.
Self Belief and this competitive world- . This is the first public test of your life. A good performance makes you feel confident about yourself and enhances your self belief. That is what takes you places in this materialistic world. Get pounds of it and you manage to take on the world. So a good score here will ensure that at the end, You can thump your chest and say I did it with no one around me, Not even mum and dad! Go ahead and crack it!
Habit of winning- Winning is a habit and it comes early. For my generation , the one who took to this habit at an age of 16 and has stuck to it ever since is no else than Sachin Tendulkar- God of cricket! Believe me, Winning is more addictive than cocaine. So its better to start early and get addicted to this habit.
These exams provide you the right platform to get the glue – Go and become an addict!!
And yes , You are the first of the gen next ! So lead from the front and become a role model for the the entire gen. I was the youngest so I never got a chance to become a role model. Few get a chance and you have it - not by design but by gods grace ! Make full use of the chance given to you by god, a chance to inspire the entire generation of the family!
And then , There is this challenge! This one should excite you , pump you up and get the adrenalin going ! Here is the gauntlet. Can u beat my score of 85% by a margin of 5%?? Try it out… Both of us will emerge happier and proud!
Go ahead and make us proud, My Dear!
This is a momentous occasion, Grade 10 exams! Let me take you through the reason why so much importance is associated in our psyche to this silly test .
Pre Independence times ,only the elite Indians went to the university. Any native who was a matriculate was respected , considered educated and was guaranteed a job. Post independence many more people got access to university but the basic defining criterion for having having the halo of intelligence remained the percentage scored in grade 10.
Moreover , In the India of 60s to 90s, Plus two education was still carried in universities. Thus, The grade 10 scores acquired paramount importance for they opened the gates of the premier universities which of course ensured you had a tag worthy of a good career. And the importance of a good tag of a good university has always made one comfortable in an interview room.
Ask the previous two generations how they sweated it out for grade 10 scores and u know the reason now!
Times have changed and evolved for better. Grade 10 scores neither give u the tag of “ educated” and guarantee a job like pre independence times. Neither do they get you into a premier university .
You could end up walking in the same corridors of DPS with the same bunch of friends. Hence, there is nothing much you can do with the scores you get here. This is not the world cup final and this is not the last ball where a six has to be hit for victory. This is just a friendly match!!
This should take off the pressure. Take a deep long breath and feel the sudden magic in yourself ! Coz there is no pressure! You can feel you can play all the strokes and play a gem of an innings ! This can only happen when there is no pressure and there is no pressure cause the stakes are not very high. So go ahead and hit sixes and make a century! You can do it !
But this Match has its own importance and that is much more than getting in a university which is a brand.
Self Belief and this competitive world- . This is the first public test of your life. A good performance makes you feel confident about yourself and enhances your self belief. That is what takes you places in this materialistic world. Get pounds of it and you manage to take on the world. So a good score here will ensure that at the end, You can thump your chest and say I did it with no one around me, Not even mum and dad! Go ahead and crack it!
Habit of winning- Winning is a habit and it comes early. For my generation , the one who took to this habit at an age of 16 and has stuck to it ever since is no else than Sachin Tendulkar- God of cricket! Believe me, Winning is more addictive than cocaine. So its better to start early and get addicted to this habit.
These exams provide you the right platform to get the glue – Go and become an addict!!
And yes , You are the first of the gen next ! So lead from the front and become a role model for the the entire gen. I was the youngest so I never got a chance to become a role model. Few get a chance and you have it - not by design but by gods grace ! Make full use of the chance given to you by god, a chance to inspire the entire generation of the family!
And then , There is this challenge! This one should excite you , pump you up and get the adrenalin going ! Here is the gauntlet. Can u beat my score of 85% by a margin of 5%?? Try it out… Both of us will emerge happier and proud!
Go ahead and make us proud, My Dear!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Weddings. . .......
MARRIAGES AND LEARNINGS
How do you define a marriage… In my basic understanding it is a formal coming together of two bodies , two souls , two individuals , two identities. Its about merging of all the above into one.. Two becomes one and two decide to tread a “singular” path. Two decide to give space to each “one” while merging the two to usher in joys of being “one”.
Two , sometimes of diverse cultures and backgrounds, decide a common future and the Two contribute to the evolution of world in their own way by procreating. They prefer to give their own identity to world and history through their progeny. Though due to the nuances of genetics where random fusion of gametes takes place ; There are often vastly different creations. All the above is divine and hence a marriage has divine interventions and is quite sacred to the teeming millions around.
I have had my experiences of few marriages which linger in my memory and few which I would have loved to attend if I would have been born earlier!
My parents got married on 1st march 1968. A 26 year old fair , handsome, professor of physics taking an unknown girl of 18 as his life partner. A virtual geek be it physics or literature getting bestowed with a girl who could ride horses , play hockey and swim at competitive levels into creating a life together.
I realized; Marriage merges different ingredients to make a delicious ONE dish! Delicious this has been.. alhumdulillah- for they have stayed happily together for 40 years in thick and thin. Have heard a lot about the foggy mornings that winter and how my dear grandpa organized the wedding of his only son. I learn- Organisational skills come to fore in organizing a marriage ceremony and each gets his chance in life!! I shall get mine , too-;))
Have heard a lot also of a pre independence wedding of asthas grandparents in early thirties. A prince getting another princess, blossoming of love and then carrying on with the same intensity of desire, passion and mutual love right into the next century is a romantic story of the last century. The same becomes more powerful with the landscape of ever evolving and changing times- decades tof pre independence, post independence chaos, losing royalty privileges and coming to terms to life as a commoner. Would love to know what happened in the sacred ceremony which led to this sustained love and acceptance of each other. I believe- Marriage is love in abundance and readiness to flow together in all tides – high and low!
The first marriage of significance in my life was in 1985 . My father’s cousin got married and it was a great occasion for- a ready to barge into teens-me. My brothers and mine sacred thread vedic ceremony was also conducted that time making us “twice born” from that day. All these made the event even more memorable. Tons of photo, happy, sulking, dancing, our generation’s first brush with alcohol and tobacco and then asking for more in life mark that marriage. I learnt- Marriage ceremonies give us a chance to indulge and experience new highs and lows.
The next one was the marriage of our only beloved sister in 1993. Still an undergraduate student, I watched this one take place over months with financial and executional plans with elder bro playing his role to the hilt. I watched in awe and tried to execute to my limited capabilities as I watched the drama unfold . It was execution par excellence- a wonderful team effort. All timed perfectly. Have fond memories of friend rana singh, resorting to opening of coke bottles with mouth/ teeth when openers failed, my friend sumit taking me away for a smoke during the sentimental vidai ceremony ! Luv you guys…
While the focus remained on the ever genteel jijajee and my dahling sis and of course on my dearest bro as always.. I tried to understand the intricacies , pros , cons and nuances of getting into a responsible married life. It has been a wonderful ride for both brothers to have found a friend and well wisher in Jijashree. Merci beaucoup Monsieur! I learnt Marriage provides a platform to build life long friendships and relationships.
Scene moves to Delhi 1997.. My first year into professional career, big dreams and ambitions and a raring fire to make a difference to the society.. Here I was .. dancing away to glory as I had never done before- celebrating the big day of my only brother- my friend sometimes and my idol always! A banker joined the family and ushered in lots of fun times for us.
I can still remember the wide and rare smile on my dad’s when all finished well and to his liking . I hadn’t seen that one post my sisters wedding and not later during mine. Finally, he expressed it! His love for his special one. All of us love this love and have enjoyed it always in our family banters!
I learnt Marriage ceremonies bring out many a disguised and hidden emotions!
And now I fall in the trap too. Dec 2000!! They say before marriage you are incomplete and post that you are finished! While gloating over others crossing the line was ok , I finally took my big leap too. A literature enthusiast with love for Shakespeare and bachhan in same measure, a dreamer, a lover of peace and abundance walks the aisle with a realist, a mathematician one who loves chaos and scarcity !
I learnt Marriage brings in diverse souls and they make a lovely lock and key!
Am in a flight to attend my brother in law Harsh’s and his fiancé vidishas wedding. Have decided to have max fun! “Har pal yahaan – jee bhar ke jiyo, phir yeh samaa-kal ho na ho” is my theme for next 7 days. This would be the wedding of this decade.
Next decade I look forward to my niece, shreya’s wedding which would be another memorable occasion.. Young , I shall remain then, in words and spirits atleast.
Hope both the above make me learn few more things about the concept , the institution that is marriage!
PS- I have missed out on weddings of plethora of friends where I had planned to be there for sure - These are pals from mikes, DPS, Hindu and IRMA. I owe you an apology dears!!
How do you define a marriage… In my basic understanding it is a formal coming together of two bodies , two souls , two individuals , two identities. Its about merging of all the above into one.. Two becomes one and two decide to tread a “singular” path. Two decide to give space to each “one” while merging the two to usher in joys of being “one”.
Two , sometimes of diverse cultures and backgrounds, decide a common future and the Two contribute to the evolution of world in their own way by procreating. They prefer to give their own identity to world and history through their progeny. Though due to the nuances of genetics where random fusion of gametes takes place ; There are often vastly different creations. All the above is divine and hence a marriage has divine interventions and is quite sacred to the teeming millions around.
I have had my experiences of few marriages which linger in my memory and few which I would have loved to attend if I would have been born earlier!
My parents got married on 1st march 1968. A 26 year old fair , handsome, professor of physics taking an unknown girl of 18 as his life partner. A virtual geek be it physics or literature getting bestowed with a girl who could ride horses , play hockey and swim at competitive levels into creating a life together.
I realized; Marriage merges different ingredients to make a delicious ONE dish! Delicious this has been.. alhumdulillah- for they have stayed happily together for 40 years in thick and thin. Have heard a lot about the foggy mornings that winter and how my dear grandpa organized the wedding of his only son. I learn- Organisational skills come to fore in organizing a marriage ceremony and each gets his chance in life!! I shall get mine , too-;))
Have heard a lot also of a pre independence wedding of asthas grandparents in early thirties. A prince getting another princess, blossoming of love and then carrying on with the same intensity of desire, passion and mutual love right into the next century is a romantic story of the last century. The same becomes more powerful with the landscape of ever evolving and changing times- decades tof pre independence, post independence chaos, losing royalty privileges and coming to terms to life as a commoner. Would love to know what happened in the sacred ceremony which led to this sustained love and acceptance of each other. I believe- Marriage is love in abundance and readiness to flow together in all tides – high and low!
The first marriage of significance in my life was in 1985 . My father’s cousin got married and it was a great occasion for- a ready to barge into teens-me. My brothers and mine sacred thread vedic ceremony was also conducted that time making us “twice born” from that day. All these made the event even more memorable. Tons of photo, happy, sulking, dancing, our generation’s first brush with alcohol and tobacco and then asking for more in life mark that marriage. I learnt- Marriage ceremonies give us a chance to indulge and experience new highs and lows.
The next one was the marriage of our only beloved sister in 1993. Still an undergraduate student, I watched this one take place over months with financial and executional plans with elder bro playing his role to the hilt. I watched in awe and tried to execute to my limited capabilities as I watched the drama unfold . It was execution par excellence- a wonderful team effort. All timed perfectly. Have fond memories of friend rana singh, resorting to opening of coke bottles with mouth/ teeth when openers failed, my friend sumit taking me away for a smoke during the sentimental vidai ceremony ! Luv you guys…
While the focus remained on the ever genteel jijajee and my dahling sis and of course on my dearest bro as always.. I tried to understand the intricacies , pros , cons and nuances of getting into a responsible married life. It has been a wonderful ride for both brothers to have found a friend and well wisher in Jijashree. Merci beaucoup Monsieur! I learnt Marriage provides a platform to build life long friendships and relationships.
Scene moves to Delhi 1997.. My first year into professional career, big dreams and ambitions and a raring fire to make a difference to the society.. Here I was .. dancing away to glory as I had never done before- celebrating the big day of my only brother- my friend sometimes and my idol always! A banker joined the family and ushered in lots of fun times for us.
I can still remember the wide and rare smile on my dad’s when all finished well and to his liking . I hadn’t seen that one post my sisters wedding and not later during mine. Finally, he expressed it! His love for his special one. All of us love this love and have enjoyed it always in our family banters!
I learnt Marriage ceremonies bring out many a disguised and hidden emotions!
And now I fall in the trap too. Dec 2000!! They say before marriage you are incomplete and post that you are finished! While gloating over others crossing the line was ok , I finally took my big leap too. A literature enthusiast with love for Shakespeare and bachhan in same measure, a dreamer, a lover of peace and abundance walks the aisle with a realist, a mathematician one who loves chaos and scarcity !
I learnt Marriage brings in diverse souls and they make a lovely lock and key!
Am in a flight to attend my brother in law Harsh’s and his fiancé vidishas wedding. Have decided to have max fun! “Har pal yahaan – jee bhar ke jiyo, phir yeh samaa-kal ho na ho” is my theme for next 7 days. This would be the wedding of this decade.
Next decade I look forward to my niece, shreya’s wedding which would be another memorable occasion.. Young , I shall remain then, in words and spirits atleast.
Hope both the above make me learn few more things about the concept , the institution that is marriage!
PS- I have missed out on weddings of plethora of friends where I had planned to be there for sure - These are pals from mikes, DPS, Hindu and IRMA. I owe you an apology dears!!
Friday, January 29, 2010
"MASK"ed Face
Relevance of this four letter word in life and the game of chess is pretty close
Everyone around seems to be manouvering and scheming to prove their worth,
They wear a veil to hide their identity before a ruthless move॥
They want to push you to a lonely corner
suffocate you to a miserable end..
Everyone wants a QUEEN for themselves but they strive hard to ensure that you dont get a queen!
They seem to analyze every move you make
They dont " really " rejoice in your moments of celebration and cry in your moments of despair!
Yes, The role of MASK in life and the game of chess is close...
A pawn is not a pawn always and the queen not a queen
They exchange positions!
A friend is not a friend always and the foe not a foe always..
They interchange roles
The MASK makes a difference to their definition..
I have made my my moves all alone...without a MASK
Can i prove a point to all the MASKed faces around????
Everyone around seems to be manouvering and scheming to prove their worth,
They wear a veil to hide their identity before a ruthless move॥
They want to push you to a lonely corner
suffocate you to a miserable end..
Everyone wants a QUEEN for themselves but they strive hard to ensure that you dont get a queen!
They seem to analyze every move you make
They dont " really " rejoice in your moments of celebration and cry in your moments of despair!
Yes, The role of MASK in life and the game of chess is close...
A pawn is not a pawn always and the queen not a queen
They exchange positions!
A friend is not a friend always and the foe not a foe always..
They interchange roles
The MASK makes a difference to their definition..
I have made my my moves all alone...without a MASK
Can i prove a point to all the MASKed faces around????
Friday, January 15, 2010
वज्रपात
नभ को चूमती पहाड़ियों के बीच
बसा एक गाँव
गाँव के बीचो बीच है
उस गाँव का केंद्र बिन्दु
वोह विशाल पोखर!
उन्मुक्त बालकों का क्रीड़ास्थल है- वोह पोखर
रूमानी युवाओं का प्रणय स्थल है- वोह पोखर
विद्यार्थीयों की पाठशाला भी वहीं , कन्दूकेन का मैदान भी वहीं,
व्रीधों का चौपाल भी वहीं,अबलाओं का शिव मंदिर भी वहीं ,
साप्ताहीक हाट भी वहीं, वार्षिक दंगल भी वहीं,
लहलहाती फसलों की जान वोह पोखर
गाँव की आन वोह पोखर, गाँव की शान वोह पोखर
आज की सर्द सुबह ,
यकायक , वोह पोखर सूख गया !
बसा एक गाँव
गाँव के बीचो बीच है
उस गाँव का केंद्र बिन्दु
वोह विशाल पोखर!
उन्मुक्त बालकों का क्रीड़ास्थल है- वोह पोखर
रूमानी युवाओं का प्रणय स्थल है- वोह पोखर
विद्यार्थीयों की पाठशाला भी वहीं , कन्दूकेन का मैदान भी वहीं,
व्रीधों का चौपाल भी वहीं,अबलाओं का शिव मंदिर भी वहीं ,
साप्ताहीक हाट भी वहीं, वार्षिक दंगल भी वहीं,
लहलहाती फसलों की जान वोह पोखर
गाँव की आन वोह पोखर, गाँव की शान वोह पोखर
आज की सर्द सुबह ,
यकायक , वोह पोखर सूख गया !
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
जानो मुझको
चाह कर भी शब्दों में ढाल न सकोगी , शब्द नहीं एहसास हूँ मैं
मंदिर के घंटों में मैं ,मस्जिद के अजान में मैं,
चाहत की पुकार में मैं, युद्ध के ललकार में मैं,
जानों कैसी ललकार हूँ मैं, बूझो कैसी पुकार हूँ मैं !
------------------------------------------
मदिरालय के प्यालों में मैं , लंगर के थालों में मैं,
महलों के बिस्कूट में मैं, झोपर के रोटी प्याज में मैं ,
जानों कैसा स्वाद हूँ मैं , बूझो कैसा स्वाद हूँ मैं!
------------------------------------------
महुआ के रस में भी मैं ,लंगर के थालों में भी मैं
सत्यनारायण के पंचामृत में, जानों कैसा खुमार हूँ मैं !
-----------------------------------------------
साकी की चूरी की khun khun , या हो कोठे पे पायल की झंकार ,
माँ दुर्गे की तलवार की थिरकन या हो राम धनुष की टंकार
जानों कैसा झंकार हूँ मैं, boojho कैसा टंकार हूँ मैं !
------------------------------------------------
पाक राखी के डोरे हों या हो युवा प्रेम की ज्वाला
मैं हूँ मात्री प्रेम के रस से भीघी हुई एक काया
जानों कैसा प्यार हूँ मैं॥ भूझो कैसा प्यार हूँ मैं!!
------------------------------------------------
jaith दिवाकर की किरने हों ,या हो जठराग्नि कालाहांडी की,
pokhrun के baaroodon में भी, जानों कैसा अंगार हूँ मैं, बूझो कैसा अंगार हूँ मैं!!
----------------------------------------------------------------
सुरमई छंदों को सुर देने वाला, लैबध गीतों को लेएय देने वाला ,
सुन्दरता को सुन्दर करने वाला,
जीवीत को मैं जीवन देने वाला ,
जानों कैसा फनकार हूँ मैं, बूझो कैसा फनकार हूँ मैं!
-------------------------------------------------------------
दुख में भी मैं हंसने वाला, सूख में भी मैं रोने वाला
फकीरी में भी लूटआऊँ मैं
जानों कैसा दिलदार हूँ मैं, बूझो कैसा दिलदार हूँ मैं!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
अब तक ना बूझी, तो जान न सकोगी
garjoonga तो घबराओएगी
barsoonga तो भीगोगी
बाहूपाश में आने पे जाणोगी
जलन नहीं स्पंदन हूँ मैं
अर्थ नहीं, स्नेहिल एहसास हूँ मैं,
दूस्वपन नहीं , मधुर याद हूँ मैं!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
...
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Crossing the river
The French say it like this – cest la vie…; Am beginning to firmly believe in the uncertainties and suddenness of life…
Out of the blue, The Point noire biz offers hope… The visit is imminent… Am off to Point noire via Brazzaville…
The beach on MY( Kinshassa) side of the mighty river congo is chaotic… But , I have my ways n solutions… Being an expat and one perceived to be a rich one… I have a protocol officer to get all my “formalities” done without me getting troubled... The formalities are a set of arcane services …. They are supposed to check u for ur tickets, visa , yellow fever card , the stuff u are carrying and sometimes the brand/ colour of ur underwear…
They also ask u to declare the asset base!!! How many notes of which currency , how many phones, laptops, cameras etc… Beware.. precision is the key.. Across the mighty mystic congo.. you shall pay the penalty if u are not precision personified!!! I mean 416250 fcfa means u declare exactly the same..
Yes, am thru .. Jean luc, my protocol, is a smooth operator .. I wait in my car till he does the FORMALITIES!!! I am put on a canoe rapide!!!
There are few others who seem relaxed and contented… it is a small boat powered by a 40 v motor…. The initial coughing of the motor and the the huge width of the river congo in front of my eyes form a deadly cocktail… I get back to the age old solution.. When in fear -Chant Hanuman Chalisa! which my hindu Brahmin upbringing has firmly instilled in me….
Hanuman is a brave powerful god in hindu mythology.. Time to seek his help….. Thots of my 5 yr old son who , I believe, is one of the most naughty creature god has bestowed on this earth ,haunt me… I keep on wishing him a sweet au revoir … on the other side.. I keep telling him.. Wait.. I shall be back., soon!
Finally the motor starts roaring .. With a purpose… I know its only ten minutes… But they seem like hours….. The boat bangs on the metallic quay on banks of (brazaville side) of the river…. I wonder , if the same canoe goes thru this mini collision with the metal body on every trip…. There has to be some day when its fibre surface would give away… another shiver down the spine!
Thank God Hanuman for his continued blessings … One more time!
The colonial rulers have left one thing for sure on their african subjects…. Need for archaic systems… useless documentation !!! Am pounded by an unending set of services who want to see my visa, want to check my baggage.. want to see if I have been immunized against plethora of diseases.. and want to count every currency note I am carrying!!!! I don’t have the benefit of jean luc here… I struggle thru each of these check points before I am ready to retrieve my passport ..
Limited amount of the local currency FCFA had been used already to get thru the innumerable service controls.
The passport delivery guy needs his share of the pie… My wallet is empty.. I have big notes of USD which I don’t want him to see…
A white female .. works with UN/ NGO probably.. with the service card dangling around her bust is busy showing off her intelligence to the lesser mortals.. The card and the deep neck line of the t shirt both draw my attention…
Thought she wld be the one who would part away with a 1000 fcfa-(2 usd ) to get me out fast.. I had done that so often for fellow expatriates in the dark continent that expecting the same was not asking for the heavens…
That was not to be… She quickly retrieved her passport without parting away with any of the notes.. She did give a big artificial smile to the guy across…
The immigration guy suddenly turned mischievious, He realized that he didn’t check my ordre de mission! .. Here It was ! I had not carried a letter from the company certifying that I was entering the haloed country for business purposes.. And this was a huge mistake which could attract huge penalty. The penalty was calculated with 3 immigration inspectors huddled in unison! What a silly prey I was.. I could see them already celebrating.
Vous pouvez payez deux cent cinqante (250) dollar!! Voila.. I was trying to hide the fifty usd note and the penalty was five times that..
The game boiled down to basic competencies required to survive and flourish in these terrains- Negotiating, wheeling dealing!!.. I close the deal and get lighter by a bill of 50 usd!
The scene moves to Maya maya Airport Brazzaville where I shall catch a flight for pointe noire…
Out of the blue, The Point noire biz offers hope… The visit is imminent… Am off to Point noire via Brazzaville…
The beach on MY( Kinshassa) side of the mighty river congo is chaotic… But , I have my ways n solutions… Being an expat and one perceived to be a rich one… I have a protocol officer to get all my “formalities” done without me getting troubled... The formalities are a set of arcane services …. They are supposed to check u for ur tickets, visa , yellow fever card , the stuff u are carrying and sometimes the brand/ colour of ur underwear…
They also ask u to declare the asset base!!! How many notes of which currency , how many phones, laptops, cameras etc… Beware.. precision is the key.. Across the mighty mystic congo.. you shall pay the penalty if u are not precision personified!!! I mean 416250 fcfa means u declare exactly the same..
Yes, am thru .. Jean luc, my protocol, is a smooth operator .. I wait in my car till he does the FORMALITIES!!! I am put on a canoe rapide!!!
There are few others who seem relaxed and contented… it is a small boat powered by a 40 v motor…. The initial coughing of the motor and the the huge width of the river congo in front of my eyes form a deadly cocktail… I get back to the age old solution.. When in fear -Chant Hanuman Chalisa! which my hindu Brahmin upbringing has firmly instilled in me….
Hanuman is a brave powerful god in hindu mythology.. Time to seek his help….. Thots of my 5 yr old son who , I believe, is one of the most naughty creature god has bestowed on this earth ,haunt me… I keep on wishing him a sweet au revoir … on the other side.. I keep telling him.. Wait.. I shall be back., soon!
Finally the motor starts roaring .. With a purpose… I know its only ten minutes… But they seem like hours….. The boat bangs on the metallic quay on banks of (brazaville side) of the river…. I wonder , if the same canoe goes thru this mini collision with the metal body on every trip…. There has to be some day when its fibre surface would give away… another shiver down the spine!
Thank God Hanuman for his continued blessings … One more time!
The colonial rulers have left one thing for sure on their african subjects…. Need for archaic systems… useless documentation !!! Am pounded by an unending set of services who want to see my visa, want to check my baggage.. want to see if I have been immunized against plethora of diseases.. and want to count every currency note I am carrying!!!! I don’t have the benefit of jean luc here… I struggle thru each of these check points before I am ready to retrieve my passport ..
Limited amount of the local currency FCFA had been used already to get thru the innumerable service controls.
The passport delivery guy needs his share of the pie… My wallet is empty.. I have big notes of USD which I don’t want him to see…
A white female .. works with UN/ NGO probably.. with the service card dangling around her bust is busy showing off her intelligence to the lesser mortals.. The card and the deep neck line of the t shirt both draw my attention…
Thought she wld be the one who would part away with a 1000 fcfa-(2 usd ) to get me out fast.. I had done that so often for fellow expatriates in the dark continent that expecting the same was not asking for the heavens…
That was not to be… She quickly retrieved her passport without parting away with any of the notes.. She did give a big artificial smile to the guy across…
The immigration guy suddenly turned mischievious, He realized that he didn’t check my ordre de mission! .. Here It was ! I had not carried a letter from the company certifying that I was entering the haloed country for business purposes.. And this was a huge mistake which could attract huge penalty. The penalty was calculated with 3 immigration inspectors huddled in unison! What a silly prey I was.. I could see them already celebrating.
Vous pouvez payez deux cent cinqante (250) dollar!! Voila.. I was trying to hide the fifty usd note and the penalty was five times that..
The game boiled down to basic competencies required to survive and flourish in these terrains- Negotiating, wheeling dealing!!.. I close the deal and get lighter by a bill of 50 usd!
The scene moves to Maya maya Airport Brazzaville where I shall catch a flight for pointe noire…
Precious Life.....
I started the journey.. alone.. a bit doped from the excesses of the revelery of the evening before..
The boat ride on the river congo.. turbulent waves and sweating forheads
Crass shouts of the pilot for maintaining the equlibrium of the boat..
A heavy african mama with her heavier bag shifts to the other side... The boat shakes and tilts precariously to the other side..
The pilot pushes the accelerator.. splashing cool congo water on all the passensgers..
The sweaty foreheads and heavy hearbeats get a cool respite
Journey continues...
The take off in air congo samples the next 2 hours of plight in the flight...
Landing on a muddy tarmac accentuates the feeling.....
The massive clapping by the passengers on landing..
My back hurts.. head swings
And the girl in the front seat finally vomits..
Wonder.. How precious is life?
The boat ride on the river congo.. turbulent waves and sweating forheads
Crass shouts of the pilot for maintaining the equlibrium of the boat..
A heavy african mama with her heavier bag shifts to the other side... The boat shakes and tilts precariously to the other side..
The pilot pushes the accelerator.. splashing cool congo water on all the passensgers..
The sweaty foreheads and heavy hearbeats get a cool respite
Journey continues...
The take off in air congo samples the next 2 hours of plight in the flight...
Landing on a muddy tarmac accentuates the feeling.....
The massive clapping by the passengers on landing..
My back hurts.. head swings
And the girl in the front seat finally vomits..
Wonder.. How precious is life?
Survival lessons …
The boy on the street hasn’t smelt food for days
His stoned eyes and the swaggered walk..
His emaciated body and his confident body language
His knock on your car window and your reprimand
His begging eyes and his demand for small currency notes
His radiant face and his thankful eyes
His scream of joy when you speed off
His running away from his fellow comrades and the ensuing chase..
Have taught me a lesson or two in survival
Just saw him buy some more stuffed ciggies…
He shall survive this cold night!
His stoned eyes and the swaggered walk..
His emaciated body and his confident body language
His knock on your car window and your reprimand
His begging eyes and his demand for small currency notes
His radiant face and his thankful eyes
His scream of joy when you speed off
His running away from his fellow comrades and the ensuing chase..
Have taught me a lesson or two in survival
Just saw him buy some more stuffed ciggies…
He shall survive this cold night!
DR Congo- Metamorphosis to Democratic Republic of China
DR Congo- Metamorphosis to Democratic Republic of China
Kinshasa- Circa 2004
I have a thick mop of black hair on my head and I eagerly look forward to a stint in the congo.
The country is just coming out of a decade long conflict and I am about to be intiated into parenthood. . There is a transitional government in place with a president and five vice presidents and I am experiencing transit professionally where I move to start a new business. The Big 6 have taken upon themselves the onerous task of reconciling their own conflicting interests and usher in the era of transition. This is a brave announcement considering the past history.
It did take half a decade, a few rounds of shootings, international community and EU’s interference to resolve their own differences , elect an undisputed leader and get the country inch forward . The five chantiers of development taken by the new government is an ample proof of the same.
Back to 2004
Kinshasa , in the transitionary times, has few hundred Chinese souls seeking salvation in this cursed land of plenty, There is a chinese restaurant located on the top floor of a government building and was the favourite of the erstwhile president Mobutu ,if the grapevine is true . The local trade is dominated by the lebanese and Indian origin populace which has made Congo its home for 2-3 generations. There is a substantial flow of the “ diver articles’ from china but the food and machinery still comes from the colonial masters. The coffee and cocoa plantations have been abandoned for a decade and the main biz is “ trading” . The local trading minority has begun to shake hands with few business partners in Guangzhou . The travel to China is done by the heads of the importing houses and they hold forth , on glitz ( read massage) and business prospects of China , in any social get together. The Chinese embassy is not an imposing building and depositing the visa form is not time consuming and stressful.
The roads of Kinshasa are bumpy to say the least . The main boulevard constructed during colonial times has a big divider , is safe to drive and is lined with green trees on both sides. The golf course is partially visible from the main road with thick tall trees hiding the lush and well manicured grass inside.
The local markets are littered with shops owned by Lebanese and Indian origin people . The most common names of shops are soha, shalini and shabnam - each name clearly reflecting the origin and religious affiliations of the owner. The shops are manned by gawky Indian and lebanese teenagers who seem a lot happier selling candles and lanterns than attending high school back home. They also have a shared vehicle provided by the patron for their weekend ventures out.
City life is witnessing an inflow of expats mainly due to increasing UN presence and some business houses who have faith in economic potential of the country.
Circa 2009
I have some strands of grey now coz I have become wiser!
The transition era has given way to the era of reconstruction.
Kinshasa is all dug today… The roads are being broadened ! Much to the dismay of local population , it is a chinese company which is doing this. China has signed a 9 billion usd “infrastructure for minerals” deal with the government with massive mining rights for copper, coltan and cobalt. The roads will surely get broad soon but there are no dividers on the main boulevard now and every weekend a few zombies take each other head on! The trees on either side have been decimated and the golf course seems to have been robbed of its clothing and looks ugly in nudity.
The drivers of the bulldozers and the helpers roaming around the road construction have distinct mongoloid features . I can not mistake them with local physical looks. There are hundreds of Chinese in the expat area of Gombe and there are 4 restaurants which I have visited myself.. Bon marche, the night den of city, with plethora of night clubs and meat eating joints and where Kinshasa comes alive each night is full of Chinese singles. Limete residential and limete industrial has 4 chinese restaurants and numerous massage parlours . A chinese friend and business partner of mine experienced it first hand in his visit and is horrified by the entry of fellow countrymen in the oldest profession .
Prison space is being created somewhere on the planet , behind the big walls!
The marche is full of shops like congochin now co existing with the Sohas and shalinis. They have one thing in common, The entire” article diver” has come from the same country. The world has undergone a change and so has DRC. Even food products like tomato paste , onions, garlics, kidney beans and even milk powder have “ Made in China “ mark.
Each member of the procurement team of mid size importers has visited china . Small time importers now travel to china every 6 months and there is a huge queue in front of Chinese embassy . Local mamas , an importer of 1 container and many young Indian, Lebanese men jostling for timely submission of forms. It takes about 30 days to get the visa !!!
The patrons of the old Lebanese and Indian trading groups have given space to the new entrants and have moved over to greener pastures like construction – as they put it! The city is witnessing a huge activity in housing sector and very soon it is expected the “ accommodation blues” of a new arrivee would get sorted out.
There is a degree of competition for the local population too. The local seller of telephone credits could now be a Chinese. A mongoloid vendor can be heard selling Mai Mai ( water in lingala) pouches in the grand marche. And yes, hats off to the efforts of the Chinese in their adaptability… Hordes walking on foot or riding a moto and inside local taxis!
Long live Sino – Congolese Collaboration!
DRC is the latest to the list of gabons, Camerouns, ROC and other west African countries. Is Africa getting invaded , yet again??
Kinshasa- Circa 2004
I have a thick mop of black hair on my head and I eagerly look forward to a stint in the congo.
The country is just coming out of a decade long conflict and I am about to be intiated into parenthood. . There is a transitional government in place with a president and five vice presidents and I am experiencing transit professionally where I move to start a new business. The Big 6 have taken upon themselves the onerous task of reconciling their own conflicting interests and usher in the era of transition. This is a brave announcement considering the past history.
It did take half a decade, a few rounds of shootings, international community and EU’s interference to resolve their own differences , elect an undisputed leader and get the country inch forward . The five chantiers of development taken by the new government is an ample proof of the same.
Back to 2004
Kinshasa , in the transitionary times, has few hundred Chinese souls seeking salvation in this cursed land of plenty, There is a chinese restaurant located on the top floor of a government building and was the favourite of the erstwhile president Mobutu ,if the grapevine is true . The local trade is dominated by the lebanese and Indian origin populace which has made Congo its home for 2-3 generations. There is a substantial flow of the “ diver articles’ from china but the food and machinery still comes from the colonial masters. The coffee and cocoa plantations have been abandoned for a decade and the main biz is “ trading” . The local trading minority has begun to shake hands with few business partners in Guangzhou . The travel to China is done by the heads of the importing houses and they hold forth , on glitz ( read massage) and business prospects of China , in any social get together. The Chinese embassy is not an imposing building and depositing the visa form is not time consuming and stressful.
The roads of Kinshasa are bumpy to say the least . The main boulevard constructed during colonial times has a big divider , is safe to drive and is lined with green trees on both sides. The golf course is partially visible from the main road with thick tall trees hiding the lush and well manicured grass inside.
The local markets are littered with shops owned by Lebanese and Indian origin people . The most common names of shops are soha, shalini and shabnam - each name clearly reflecting the origin and religious affiliations of the owner. The shops are manned by gawky Indian and lebanese teenagers who seem a lot happier selling candles and lanterns than attending high school back home. They also have a shared vehicle provided by the patron for their weekend ventures out.
City life is witnessing an inflow of expats mainly due to increasing UN presence and some business houses who have faith in economic potential of the country.
Circa 2009
I have some strands of grey now coz I have become wiser!
The transition era has given way to the era of reconstruction.
Kinshasa is all dug today… The roads are being broadened ! Much to the dismay of local population , it is a chinese company which is doing this. China has signed a 9 billion usd “infrastructure for minerals” deal with the government with massive mining rights for copper, coltan and cobalt. The roads will surely get broad soon but there are no dividers on the main boulevard now and every weekend a few zombies take each other head on! The trees on either side have been decimated and the golf course seems to have been robbed of its clothing and looks ugly in nudity.
The drivers of the bulldozers and the helpers roaming around the road construction have distinct mongoloid features . I can not mistake them with local physical looks. There are hundreds of Chinese in the expat area of Gombe and there are 4 restaurants which I have visited myself.. Bon marche, the night den of city, with plethora of night clubs and meat eating joints and where Kinshasa comes alive each night is full of Chinese singles. Limete residential and limete industrial has 4 chinese restaurants and numerous massage parlours . A chinese friend and business partner of mine experienced it first hand in his visit and is horrified by the entry of fellow countrymen in the oldest profession .
Prison space is being created somewhere on the planet , behind the big walls!
The marche is full of shops like congochin now co existing with the Sohas and shalinis. They have one thing in common, The entire” article diver” has come from the same country. The world has undergone a change and so has DRC. Even food products like tomato paste , onions, garlics, kidney beans and even milk powder have “ Made in China “ mark.
Each member of the procurement team of mid size importers has visited china . Small time importers now travel to china every 6 months and there is a huge queue in front of Chinese embassy . Local mamas , an importer of 1 container and many young Indian, Lebanese men jostling for timely submission of forms. It takes about 30 days to get the visa !!!
The patrons of the old Lebanese and Indian trading groups have given space to the new entrants and have moved over to greener pastures like construction – as they put it! The city is witnessing a huge activity in housing sector and very soon it is expected the “ accommodation blues” of a new arrivee would get sorted out.
There is a degree of competition for the local population too. The local seller of telephone credits could now be a Chinese. A mongoloid vendor can be heard selling Mai Mai ( water in lingala) pouches in the grand marche. And yes, hats off to the efforts of the Chinese in their adaptability… Hordes walking on foot or riding a moto and inside local taxis!
Long live Sino – Congolese Collaboration!
DRC is the latest to the list of gabons, Camerouns, ROC and other west African countries. Is Africa getting invaded , yet again??
Remembering Baba...
What I Learnt From My Dearest Baba
Today , My family back home in India is busy organizing the function of Late Babu Raghunath singh memorial scholarship in our native place, Sihauta Bangra. This is an annual merit cum means scholarship which gives cash awards to top five students passing out grade 10 from the High school of Bangra. This year it has been given to 3 girls and 2 boys for academic excellence. Sitting far away from the action, I pay my homage to My grandfather late Babu Raghunath Singh.
Raghunath is another name of Lord Rama. Lord Rama had set high standards all his life and Babu Raghunath singh, my baba, strived all his life to live up to similar lofted standards.
Baba never went to high school for his elder brother was sent for higher education to Patna and Calcutta and he was asked to take care of the family in the village and manage the small zamindari and agriculture. He focused more on building physical strength which were a basic requirement for a young man. He was trained in wrestling by personal tutors and he loved horse riding. He taught me the importance of being physically strong and fit in our early childhood.
Though he never went to high school , he realized that education leads to knowledge and going forward knowledge will be the wealth and not land. He made this clear to me in my formative years. How true !!
He grew up to be a fair , tall man of 6 ft and a thin waistline and very strong chest and shoulders . He remained like this till death took him away from us. He is known to have pulled out the entire moustache of a fellow wrestler in an argument-;) I learnt early form him that the body is a temple and one should worship it.
He idolized his elder brother who was a suave, well educated man with command over multiple languages . Badka baba was his friend , philosopher and guide. Baba closely tracked and followed his brothers participation in freedom struggle and then his transition to a successful entrepreneur to become owner, publisher and editor of an widely circulated magazine in hindi heartland of post independent India . They had an awesome relationship. There would be family squabbles but the love and mutual respect for each other was never lost. Badka baba never disagreed to babas proposal and let him run his fiefdom in total independence and provided all material and moral support to make baba one of the best agriculturist in the neighbouring villages. Just to up his younger brothers social antennae and prestige, He personally invited Mahatma Gandhi and Jay prakash narayan to our village on two separate occasions and laid out a red carpet welcome for them. In turn, baba never disobeyed his elder brother all his life . He remained his arm , never tried to turn independent and operated the rural set up as the extension of the empire of his city based elder brother who remains the most successful , patriot son of the soil of Sihauta Bangra till date. I learnt certain dictums of his life- loyalty is next to godliness and blood is thicker than water.
At the peak of his agriculture phase, he had a large base of workers working on his land. For him ,they worked WITH him and not FOR him. He would be the patron but also be the friend , confidante and counsellor of all his men and their families. I learnt the dynamics of a patron - client relationship though this. Man management is an art, he told me a long back before they taught the same thing to me at the business school.
I regard him as a pioneer at breaking orthodox social barriers.
Post a hard days work , he would spend hours with his men smoking and drinking tea. This was a time when castes ruled the life of rural india more than anything. A land owning Brahmin socializing with lesser children of god would have been ostracized but he cared for none . His men mattered the most for him. I learnt the spirit of equality and camaraderie. The basics of man management were drilled into me listening to these stories and they still hold me in good stead in a faraway land.
He lost my Dadi when he was about 30 years old or a bit younger . Amidst huge family pressures , he stood firm and didn’t remarry which was a normal social custom.. He would often remark that one should listen to all but do what ones heart says. I have believed in that all my life.
Baba was instrumental in getting his only daughter in law (my mother) pursue her higher education post marriage which again was not a social norm those days. He would gloat and take enormous pride in later years over her professional and academic success.
Camarderie and socializing with his men ,apart, he was a a stickler for discipline and quite firm on stray people in the system . He believed that all men were assigned a place in the system and one should respect and abide by the hierarchy. He would often remark that a hat is placed on head and shoes on the feet. I had my degree of arguments with him over this in my initial, intoxicated with youth and rebellious years . With time, I realized that a structure needs to be aligned totally if it has to function seamlessly and deliver results.
Baba would always be demanding on my dad-;) but behind his back his son was the best student and professor of physics in the world. He would not get tired of telling stories of his academic excellence . It goaded us towards academic excellence as he had set a benchmark for us pretty early in childhood.
He was a firm believer in the benefits of joint family set up . My arguments with him that it bred parasites which he countered with his numerous logics which appeared futile to me in my formative years. Today, Bringing up my kids along with my wife , I am reminded of his words !
Agriculture was his forte and and his passion while I tended to stay away from his discourses on this, all my growing years. With my elite schooling - agriculture was without culture-;). Paradoxically, I started my career selling fertilizers and pesticides and I needed to understand the basics of the kharif and rabi crop cycles and nuances of paddy, wheat , rice and sugarcane cultivation! I went to the encyclopaedia at home than search for books on agriculture. Thanks baba for this.
Baba had lived close to the nature all his life and observed it very well. He knew of a herb which was a magic medicine for various eye ailments. He told us that a visiting saint had given him the trick of identifying the herb and applying to the patient. The saint had told him not to ever charge for the herb . Baba followed this all his life and never did the herb fail to have its magic. Even in his last years , he would take an umbrella and be out in torrential rain to look for the herb to provide relief to the suffering soul. He also kept his promise to the saint that he would not reveal the secret herb to anyone else. In spite of my making serious efforts in his later years , he never divulged the secret and politely ignored every request. The secret medicine which cured hundreds during his life time was laid to rest with him.
He would love making rain forecasts watching cloud movements , wind speed, land temperatures and many other weird parameters . I have never seen it go wrong all my life though many a times; scientific doordarshan forecasts would take a beating during our childhood. My love for nature flows in my veins.
He was a firm believer in the dictum – Truth prevails – satyameva jayate! He would believe in a basic way of living which underlined his existence all through- What u give to the world – comes back to you! He would always be very sure that nobody could take anything away from him/ us coz he had never taken anyone’s. I love you baba for sensitizing me early to the power of Universe! Rhonda byrans – are u listening?
He was a believer but took life in his stride. He , who lost 2 sons and a wife in space of 21 days , and that too at the age of 28-30, never said life was unfair. He never cribbed but tried to look at the positive side of everything and moved ahead. Thanks for making me learn that Gods wish is the final wish! Thanks for telling me to smile and be positive and Thanks for making me believe in the song- Har fikra ko dhoonwein mein udata chala gaya – literally and figuratively-;)
Baba loved his nephews and nieces as much as he loved his only son, our dad. This emotion remained intact till his death , All of them were children of his family and hence got equal attention and love. As grandchildren , we were luckier than dad. Though papa had no siblings , he had many cousins to compete for babas attentions while we were only three. But, Out of the 3 grandchildren , with due apologies to my dear sis and bro , I was the apple of his eyes and I loved it always. This was probably coz I was the youngest, I loved sports like him, loved listening to pre independence and zamindari stories , showed traits of zamindar in my childhood-;) ,loved my big tumbler of milk like him and did not show any inclination for a daily morning ritualistic, vedic and orthodoxical tete e tete with god- very much like him ( Apologies papa n bhaiya!) . His fondness for me increased later as i would sneak bidis and imported Marlboros to him ( sourced from my hostelmates) even when the doctors had advised him not to smoke! And I got his special blessings as he breathed his last on my shoulders. Thanks baba for letting me believe in power of love . Wish I love the world, the family and people around me as much as you did!!
Today as hundreds pay homage to Babu Raghunath Singh in his birth place, This one is from faraway land.
I have loved u baba..always! I have never come across a simpler soul who has a place for many in his emotions and prayers. May your soul rest in peace and you continue to guide us as always.
Pray that each one of us is as healthy and as contented in their eighties as you were in yours! Can see u peeping from the clouds , dearest Baba…..
Lovingly yours …
Your Grandson
Today , My family back home in India is busy organizing the function of Late Babu Raghunath singh memorial scholarship in our native place, Sihauta Bangra. This is an annual merit cum means scholarship which gives cash awards to top five students passing out grade 10 from the High school of Bangra. This year it has been given to 3 girls and 2 boys for academic excellence. Sitting far away from the action, I pay my homage to My grandfather late Babu Raghunath Singh.
Raghunath is another name of Lord Rama. Lord Rama had set high standards all his life and Babu Raghunath singh, my baba, strived all his life to live up to similar lofted standards.
Baba never went to high school for his elder brother was sent for higher education to Patna and Calcutta and he was asked to take care of the family in the village and manage the small zamindari and agriculture. He focused more on building physical strength which were a basic requirement for a young man. He was trained in wrestling by personal tutors and he loved horse riding. He taught me the importance of being physically strong and fit in our early childhood.
Though he never went to high school , he realized that education leads to knowledge and going forward knowledge will be the wealth and not land. He made this clear to me in my formative years. How true !!
He grew up to be a fair , tall man of 6 ft and a thin waistline and very strong chest and shoulders . He remained like this till death took him away from us. He is known to have pulled out the entire moustache of a fellow wrestler in an argument-;) I learnt early form him that the body is a temple and one should worship it.
He idolized his elder brother who was a suave, well educated man with command over multiple languages . Badka baba was his friend , philosopher and guide. Baba closely tracked and followed his brothers participation in freedom struggle and then his transition to a successful entrepreneur to become owner, publisher and editor of an widely circulated magazine in hindi heartland of post independent India . They had an awesome relationship. There would be family squabbles but the love and mutual respect for each other was never lost. Badka baba never disagreed to babas proposal and let him run his fiefdom in total independence and provided all material and moral support to make baba one of the best agriculturist in the neighbouring villages. Just to up his younger brothers social antennae and prestige, He personally invited Mahatma Gandhi and Jay prakash narayan to our village on two separate occasions and laid out a red carpet welcome for them. In turn, baba never disobeyed his elder brother all his life . He remained his arm , never tried to turn independent and operated the rural set up as the extension of the empire of his city based elder brother who remains the most successful , patriot son of the soil of Sihauta Bangra till date. I learnt certain dictums of his life- loyalty is next to godliness and blood is thicker than water.
At the peak of his agriculture phase, he had a large base of workers working on his land. For him ,they worked WITH him and not FOR him. He would be the patron but also be the friend , confidante and counsellor of all his men and their families. I learnt the dynamics of a patron - client relationship though this. Man management is an art, he told me a long back before they taught the same thing to me at the business school.
I regard him as a pioneer at breaking orthodox social barriers.
Post a hard days work , he would spend hours with his men smoking and drinking tea. This was a time when castes ruled the life of rural india more than anything. A land owning Brahmin socializing with lesser children of god would have been ostracized but he cared for none . His men mattered the most for him. I learnt the spirit of equality and camaraderie. The basics of man management were drilled into me listening to these stories and they still hold me in good stead in a faraway land.
He lost my Dadi when he was about 30 years old or a bit younger . Amidst huge family pressures , he stood firm and didn’t remarry which was a normal social custom.. He would often remark that one should listen to all but do what ones heart says. I have believed in that all my life.
Baba was instrumental in getting his only daughter in law (my mother) pursue her higher education post marriage which again was not a social norm those days. He would gloat and take enormous pride in later years over her professional and academic success.
Camarderie and socializing with his men ,apart, he was a a stickler for discipline and quite firm on stray people in the system . He believed that all men were assigned a place in the system and one should respect and abide by the hierarchy. He would often remark that a hat is placed on head and shoes on the feet. I had my degree of arguments with him over this in my initial, intoxicated with youth and rebellious years . With time, I realized that a structure needs to be aligned totally if it has to function seamlessly and deliver results.
Baba would always be demanding on my dad-;) but behind his back his son was the best student and professor of physics in the world. He would not get tired of telling stories of his academic excellence . It goaded us towards academic excellence as he had set a benchmark for us pretty early in childhood.
He was a firm believer in the benefits of joint family set up . My arguments with him that it bred parasites which he countered with his numerous logics which appeared futile to me in my formative years. Today, Bringing up my kids along with my wife , I am reminded of his words !
Agriculture was his forte and and his passion while I tended to stay away from his discourses on this, all my growing years. With my elite schooling - agriculture was without culture-;). Paradoxically, I started my career selling fertilizers and pesticides and I needed to understand the basics of the kharif and rabi crop cycles and nuances of paddy, wheat , rice and sugarcane cultivation! I went to the encyclopaedia at home than search for books on agriculture. Thanks baba for this.
Baba had lived close to the nature all his life and observed it very well. He knew of a herb which was a magic medicine for various eye ailments. He told us that a visiting saint had given him the trick of identifying the herb and applying to the patient. The saint had told him not to ever charge for the herb . Baba followed this all his life and never did the herb fail to have its magic. Even in his last years , he would take an umbrella and be out in torrential rain to look for the herb to provide relief to the suffering soul. He also kept his promise to the saint that he would not reveal the secret herb to anyone else. In spite of my making serious efforts in his later years , he never divulged the secret and politely ignored every request. The secret medicine which cured hundreds during his life time was laid to rest with him.
He would love making rain forecasts watching cloud movements , wind speed, land temperatures and many other weird parameters . I have never seen it go wrong all my life though many a times; scientific doordarshan forecasts would take a beating during our childhood. My love for nature flows in my veins.
He was a firm believer in the dictum – Truth prevails – satyameva jayate! He would believe in a basic way of living which underlined his existence all through- What u give to the world – comes back to you! He would always be very sure that nobody could take anything away from him/ us coz he had never taken anyone’s. I love you baba for sensitizing me early to the power of Universe! Rhonda byrans – are u listening?
He was a believer but took life in his stride. He , who lost 2 sons and a wife in space of 21 days , and that too at the age of 28-30, never said life was unfair. He never cribbed but tried to look at the positive side of everything and moved ahead. Thanks for making me learn that Gods wish is the final wish! Thanks for telling me to smile and be positive and Thanks for making me believe in the song- Har fikra ko dhoonwein mein udata chala gaya – literally and figuratively-;)
Baba loved his nephews and nieces as much as he loved his only son, our dad. This emotion remained intact till his death , All of them were children of his family and hence got equal attention and love. As grandchildren , we were luckier than dad. Though papa had no siblings , he had many cousins to compete for babas attentions while we were only three. But, Out of the 3 grandchildren , with due apologies to my dear sis and bro , I was the apple of his eyes and I loved it always. This was probably coz I was the youngest, I loved sports like him, loved listening to pre independence and zamindari stories , showed traits of zamindar in my childhood-;) ,loved my big tumbler of milk like him and did not show any inclination for a daily morning ritualistic, vedic and orthodoxical tete e tete with god- very much like him ( Apologies papa n bhaiya!) . His fondness for me increased later as i would sneak bidis and imported Marlboros to him ( sourced from my hostelmates) even when the doctors had advised him not to smoke! And I got his special blessings as he breathed his last on my shoulders. Thanks baba for letting me believe in power of love . Wish I love the world, the family and people around me as much as you did!!
Today as hundreds pay homage to Babu Raghunath Singh in his birth place, This one is from faraway land.
I have loved u baba..always! I have never come across a simpler soul who has a place for many in his emotions and prayers. May your soul rest in peace and you continue to guide us as always.
Pray that each one of us is as healthy and as contented in their eighties as you were in yours! Can see u peeping from the clouds , dearest Baba…..
Lovingly yours …
Your Grandson
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