Broken...

Sunday. Friendship Day. He stared at his gadget. Ten messages. He went through all of them. All witty, wacky, motivational, emotional, friendship day wishing messages. He checked all the senders. Some close friends, some distant friends. Some from whom he never expected to get message from. Some from those who never used to message him. He felt happy. But meanwhile he searched for something. That particular name. A name that symbolized a broken friendship. No it was not there. He felt bad. He felt angry. He felt pity for himself. HE replied to all other messages. Wished some more. But didn’t message that ‘particular one’ Why would he? She hasn’t!

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She checked her mobile. Her inbox, full of messages. A glee rolled out her lips. Went through all of them in a jiffy only to find the exception of one sender. She sat idle. After a brief thought she replied everyone, but not him. Why should I message? It’s a closed chapter. Why should I initiate it. Nobody understood me. Nobody understands me. Then why a track back? Now no more pretensions. She kept the mobile aside.

Mention not...

He stood dumbfounded. I looked at him and smiled. “What happened?”

“What did you say right now?” he was curious.

Pradeep, our company driver is twenty-five. I had forgotten to get one important document from my place. I rang him up and made sure that he gets it while coming to office. A low-income-below average family brought up, he studied only till seventh standard. From then he had tried finding a living driving taxis, rickshaw’s, trucks and now in our company.

He had a flashing memory, at least regarding the roads and places. That’s what I had prejudged about him when he joined our company. But he shows interest in other things also and learns things very fast. He had sneaked on others computer when he was free and learnt many things with ever evolving questions. Now he can switch on a computer, log in to his company id and play ‘Solitaire’, create a drawing in ‘Paint’, scribble something in ‘Word’ etc.

Only knowing his mother tongue Marathi and national language Hindi, he used to listen when I spoke in English or in my regional dialect Malayalam. He asks its meaning very curiously and try to pronounce the way I used to. And every time he used to use those words with while conversing.

“What did you say?” He asked me again. I got out from my thoughts. I had thanked him when he brought me the document I had left at home. When I thanked he was very happy and said “Welcome!” giving an extra stress to the second syllable. He was feeling an overweening pride. It was then I said “No mention please.” He hasn’t heard that term used before. I instilled its usage into him. He was very happy. He skedaddled from there reciting those words in joy.

How its true, curiosity is the mother of invention.

How...And...What..

He was pretty dark, naïve and smiling. After the aptitude test held for the recruitment of the company I was just sipping some juice in their canteen, waiting for the results. This is when he came towards me and said hi. My minimum decency policy prompted to wish back. I offered him a chair besides me. Cheerfully he sat and introduced himself to me. Seeing my name being called out before the test and recognizing a south Indian surname he was of a conjecture that I might be somewhere from his place.

When I started to talk him in English he was a bit reluctant but gave answers. Then he started off with broken Hindi and asked me about tests and my whereabouts and being.

“I feel the scare” he said. What this guy will say in group discussion ahead, I thought.
Ten more minutes of chat with him made me feel sympathy for him. He was very ambitious and in need of a job. He knew his shortcoming about his language but sounded pretty confidant to appear for the group discussion.

After half an hour we both were heading to the conference hall, both in the same group. After self-introductions the topic for discussion was disclosed. Out of twelve or fifteen attendants he was the only one who was not good in English. All twelve spoke about the topic, their views and counterviews. After a furious session of half an hour we all got out. Now is the turn of results. The same guy came to me.

“You spoke well on the topic.” His eyes were sprinkling. “I Wish I talk more about the topic. I was stuck in between. Like stammering.” I looked at him. His eyes shadowed defeatism, for the first time. I recalled what all he talked. Yes, at times I felt like laughing when he spoke. But noticed an upbeat attitude in him. He was one of the three, who really spoke after understanding the topic thoroughly and aptly elucidating his views. Save him good gracious. I simply smiled at him. We had a quick confab related to the same topic given inside. I was very well impressed by his views and thoughts.

We had our snacks and came back to hall. There, the recruiter was with the results. I looked at him. I prayed for him also to get selected. I saw his hands quavering. She called out the names. I couldn’t hear any of the roll calls. But in a few seconds I saw him running to me. “We both is selected” I smiled. “Are” I corrected.

Now I realize, its not how you speak, but what you speak matters.

Strangers...

He didn’t hear the alarm. Got up late. Did his daily routines in a hurry. “Do you need Tiffin?” his mom asked. He heard, but didn’t reply. He took his bike. His sister came running holding the jacket “Take this if you need. You had asked for it yesterday. Its raining.” He didn’t answer. Wore the jacket and raced towards office.

“Good morning, Sir” Genial receptionist greeted him. No, this time also he didn’t react. He went to his cabin. The whole day he was insipid. He returned home early. Then he went to the sunset point that was very nigh to his place. Hw saw the sun dipping down the horizon. He wanted to shout. He wanted to talk. He looked around. Strangers, he found only strangers. The whole world seemed to him full of strangers. Where are my friends? He searched. Or did I have any? He pondered…

He went to meet his friend who had promised to meet. Waited. Waited some more. Friend came. “Sorry, how long have you been here? Actually I am little busy and have to go.” He didn’t answer. Smiled at him. Bid Goodbye. Came back home. “Come and have food.” His father said. He didn’t react. He went inside and covered himself under the blanket. Strangers, the whole world is of strangers

Bunty and Babli...

Does real life heroes exist? If someone asks me this question, sure i am gonna ask him to read about this man. Sub Inspector Kadam. In days of Mumbai deluge when most of the officials and politicians were trying to hide safe in their secured flats and apartments,this person proved opposite to them.

Sounds very filmi. But Mumbai Police Special Branch officer Mr. Kadam showed his bravura by saving lives of two recent born kids in Mumbai. Such incidents prove there are people who really act up on humanity and dare to do anything to save others, albeit all the risks.

Mr. Kadam, who is a very reputed officer among colleagues and a terror for criminals took all the risks to save people who had affected by the deluge. In his uniform he not only gave hopes to common man but also did a heroic act by saving lives of twins who were born on 22nd of July, four days back the flood hit.

Sunil and Rajani Yadav, reminisces about the incident. Mr. Kadam, with his friend arranged a boat and engaged in rescuing affected people, though it was a leaking one. When he heard about the twins born and the couples he didnt waste any time to reach them. Yadav's, residing in the first floor were dubious about his claims to help them. However he managed to convince them and rescued the twins from there who were starving for past two days.

Sunil Yadav, a hard core movie buff, also an Abhishek fan had put his new born kiddies under the names of his hero's recent hit flick 'Bunty aur Babli'



Read the whole story

Smiley...

Beep. Beep..

I took the mobile. A smile flowered on my face. Whenever I see her name on my mobile I smile. Went to the inbox where it read, “Happy friendship day, if you were to dedicate me one song which one you would have been.” Found very funny. Kept my phone aside. Stupid silly girl! Continued with my reading.

But couldn’t concentrate anymore in that book. She was smiling at me and asking “which song?” I picked up the phone and replied back. Within seconds got a bunch of smilies. Nice she would have felt. And now I am feeling very nice. Long live friendship!!

Cup of Life....

I kept the phone receiver. It was ten minutes past one. He had rung me up at midnight. Seventy minutes. He is an okey kinda friend of mine. But first time this long chat over phone. Long lamentations. Hectic job, uninteresting activities in the office, lack of social interactions, loneliness, fear of responsibilities, deadline pressures, collegue cold wars, low concentration, low moitvation, aimless office life, affected personal life, many topics he went on. I listened to all those.

After i kept the phone God knows till what time i kept on thinking. He was not the first person to tell me like this. Many more people have the same cord. People wo are elder to me, my classmate, youger ones... All are bugged up with the stressfull life. After passing out in 2004 hardly its been one year since they are into their professional life. And here they are not content with what they got and not satisfied the way life is leading them to.

One complaints me about the never ending work hours, the other comments on their unsupportive superiors. One remarks angrily the way they are trweated and yet another about the tensions due to deadlines. Some laments about the field they chose and others the nature of their work. I kept on pondering for any solution for all these dismays. I am happy the way I am. Why? I was not before. Why now? I digged the conscience and all facts and came to the conclusion,'Am doing what I think what is right and what interests me'. And I think its a defacto thing I believe, now I am content with the way am leading my life rather the life leading me.

I thought of a story read somewhere, which might help my friends who are under stress to re-organise their bedlam life style and outlook towards life.

A group of working adults got together to visit their University lecturer. The lecturer was happy to see them. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. The Lecturer just smiled and went to the kitchen to get an assortment of cups - some porcelain, some in plastic, some in glass, some plain looking and some looked rather expensive and exquisite.

The Lecturer offered his former students the cups to get drinks for themselves. When all the students had a cup in hand with water, the Lecturer spoke: "If you noticed, all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal that you only want the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all you wanted was water, not the cup, but we unconsciously went for the better cups."

"Just like in life, if Life is Water, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold/maintain Life, butthe quality of Life doesn't change." "If we only concentrate on the cup, we won't have time to enjoy/taste the water in it.

Mumbai floods...!

Mumbai… the worst affected part in Maharashtra due to Monsoon rains. Lots of people already talked about the subject. All national and local newspapers carry related stuff. All television news channels cover them live. So there is no more to tell from my side. Lost lives, broken routines, tossed railway lines, crashed buildings, wading people, relief centers, starvations, epidemics…

Always in a situation there will be two stands. Right and wrong. Many accuse politicians and government for lack of help and support and many praise their timely actions. Normal citizens, businessmen, army, navy all are into relief works. Meanwhile I went through an article about some people who are government employees and are still continuing their help in spite of their family. Kudos to them and all others who are of that genre! Long live humanity….

Read here

As I said there are two parts for a situation. Reading through all those heroic activities found this article, which writes about some fraud also. Along with real victims, double the strength, tries to claim the relief support in form of money. Many people had come claiming of losing their home, family and what not. Down, this breed of people who shadows the magnanimity of humanity. Report says many people come with false identities and documents to prove themselves qualified to get the relief cash amount for the time being. But thanks to the relief team who strictly checks the validity of such claims and get the suffering people only what they deserve.

Read here

Beautiful Ugly...

Ashok banker is determined. He is going public against one of the heinous crime in this world, Rape.

He is going to make a movie on how a rape victim suffers after the crime against her occurs. The society is defiantly going to be ashamed once this project is finalized.

Ashok Banker a very famous writer is going to make a non-profit movie in which the protagonist will be a middle aged house wife who gets gang raped. The writer, who had given internationally acclaimed ‘Ramayana Series’ a story retelling based on the epic, is a noted columnist. Now his current work is revolving around the script making for his new movie ‘Beautiful Ugly’. The story revolves around a lady who gets gang raped by four people and how she gets discarded from her very own family. A model by profession, she gets nothing but avoidance from her own family. The family gets blackmail calls, threatening of publishing the photos of the incident, gets horrified about the disgrace its going to bring to the family.

By making this movie he wants to dissect the society and show its ruthless attitude towards a rape victim. One thing he never understood is the way his own family members bahaved to her.He wants to make this movie and is planning to telecastfreely in public only to make everyone aware of the pains that a rape victim and her son had gone through. And therby he wants to create moreagainst this social crime.

Deeply moved by this story, the stunning factor is that,this happened in a so called high class society of Independant Democratic India.When such things happen in a highly educated society what more descency can we expect from the lower ranks of society.Let's hope this motion picture will trigger a mass movement and more and more people comes against this injustice. Thereby ensure ensure this world to be safe for woman, anywhere, anytime.

Read more...

First.....

I recounted it. There were ten currencies. All of them new. I didn’t know what to do. My hands quavered with those ten green shining currencies. It was written 100 in those currencies. I tried to calculate how much it will come to, but succumbed to the tension and handed those money to amma.

I never expected a bicycle will need this much money to buy. I was around seven and was totally ignorant about the money valuation systems and pricing of commodities. It was the summer vacation I remember when this happened.

My uncle and family usually comes to home during these times. A period when I love to enjoy. Summer vacations will be full of hoopla’s. But at the end when everyone leaves for their own place, seldom we were happy. Before leaving for his place uncle seeing my dejection asked, “What do you want next time when I will come?”

I didn’t even look at his face. Face down, I was fingering on the ground with toes. He repeated the question two three times. At the end he asked, “Ok, leave next time. What do you want now?”

“Hero”, I jumped and said. ‘Hero Cycles’ were the trend those times and dream of kids like me. My mom got embarrassed with my demand. “he was just kidding”, she tried to justify my stupidity, and gave me a dread stare for being impolite. But without any shame I again asked, “You had promised me to get anything. I need a bicycle.”

Everyone laughed and my uncle said, “Ok, but from where I will get you bicycle at this wee hours. Hardly any shops would have opened.” He patted on my cheeks.

“Then give me the money. I will buy it later” While saying that I thought it will be some coins he is going to handover to me. But sans a wait he handed over the money from his wallet to me. Amma tried to take it from me and give it back saying we will get it later. But uncle objected.

Meanwhile I was staring at those currencies.