INSIGHT

WHEN I MET TENDULKAR! :)

2012-01-18T04:29:00.000-08:00

''कहते हैं, अगर किसी चीज़ को दिल से चाहो, तो पूरी काएनात उसे तुमसे मिलाने की कोशिश में लग जाती है"-these lines did not make any sense for me before I met Tendulkar sometime ago at the inaugural F1 GP race in New Delhi. This is how it all happened:-
When one of my colleagues asked me whether I would like to work with an international TV Channel during the Airtel Indian F1 Grand Prix, by any chance I could not refuse the offer. Firstly it was an event of sport, a much awaited event which would bring the craze of F1 race in the country. And I thought 'worked with an international media house during F1 GP' wouldn't look bad on my resume either. So I gladly accepted the offer.
I was in constant touch through email with someone called Davide Berati who worked for RAI Sport, Italy’s leading sports channel. The F1 GP was scheduled to be held from Oct 28-Oct 30. But Mr Berati informed me that he along with his team would arrive in India on October 25 and they wanted me to join their team from October 26. This was a bad news. The festival Diwali was falling on October 26 and I had never celebrated the grand festival without my family. I informed about this to my parents who were obviously disappointed. I told my mom about how grand the event was and how would it beatify my resume for future endeavours. My friends knew the importance of the event and wished me luck.
Days passed by and I received a mail from Mr Berati informing that they would be staying in a hotel in Ghaziabad. The place was quite from my house in Delhi. So I decided to move to my Mausi's place for a week. I packed my bags and reached my Mausi's place on October 25. She was taken aback after she looked at my heavy luggage and I told her, "I have decided to go back after a year now." I had my lunch after which I left for my destination-‘Country and suites by Carlson, Ghaziabad’.
I was welcomed by Mr Berati and after a short conversation I along with two other gentlemen left for ‘Buddha International Circuit’ which played host to India's first Formula One Grand Prix on October 30. For a change the roads were clean and both the gentlemen had a lot to discuss about the country in their Italian language. I am sure the major part of their conversation was the traffic. After almost 45 minutes we managed to reach a highway. The driver informed me that one could reach Agra from Delhi in just two hours using the particular highway. It was very well built and even my delegates were eager to know how come the particular path did not have any traffic! We reached the Budhha International Circuit and fell short of words praising the infrastructure.

The race began on 30th October. I was now used to the screeching sound of tyres with racers all across the world testing their flying machines at a minimum speed of 200 kmph. I was aware that some celebrities would come to attend the inaugural race and I also fancied my chances of meeting few of them. I did not carry an autograph book with me, so I folded sheets of A4 paper and then tore it to several pieces which were good enough for autographs.
Separate buildings were allotted to separate teams which read Team Building 1, Team Building 2 and so on. It was 2:30pm when I noticed a healthy group of media persons standing outside Team Building 05. Before I could go and enter that building I saw Formula One supremo Bernie Ecclestone coming out of the building. I thought of clicking some photographs only if there wasn't much chaos. But something unusual happened. Ecclestone came outside the building and none of the camerapersons moved, their machines were still glued at the entrance. Someone else followed after which there was huge chaos as reporters began firing questions to someone I couldn't see. The best for me was next to follow. A legend wearing a white shirt and denim blue jeans refused to give any comments as he began to walk rapidly. I was glued to my position watching this someone standing in front of me. He was the God of cricket, Sachin Tendulkar! I was awestruck and he was standing in front of me along with two security guards.
Many of you would be surprised to know that in spite of being an ardent cricket fan I have never watched a cricket match of any sort inside a stadium. This made me often think if I would be able to see Tendulkar playing on the ground, forget having him stand in front of me. I grabbed the opportunity as Tendulkar shook hands with the fans around him. The hands that would soon score 100 international centuries gave me a firm handshake before Sachin left to flag off the event. It was that moment I realized The race which had to start in another 15 minutes became irrelevant for me as I experienced the most memorable moment of my life and needed some time to come back to reality.
I also met Shahrukh Khan, Mr Bean, Ranavijay Singh, Lucky Ali, Gulshan Grover, Imran Khan but meeting the little master was a dream come true. It was a day when India joined the list of those rare countries who have the privilege of hosting the F1 race, it was a day when German F1 driver Sebastian Vettel once again proved his mettle, but friends for me it was an extraordinary day, it was ()-The Day I met Tendulkar!

2011-11-28T04:23:00.000-08:00

(Click on the image to view in larger size)

SUN-SATIONAL DELHI SUMMER

2011-05-30T08:30:00.000-07:00

My consumption of soft drinks increased to a great extent as soon as the temperatures crossed 40 degree mark in the capital. I know, for all those who know even a little about me would ask what’s so new about me consuming soft drinks? In that case I have news (read update) to share. There are two unattended bottles of Thumbs Up in my refrigerator since long and I haven’t paid heed to them. Oh yes, my sister often takes a sip or two from them and the way she is going, I am sure I would take her a decade to finish both of them. I have switched on to a new drink-Rooh Afza! Forget the taste, the name of the drink itself gives so much of relaxation to the mind. Just close your eyes for a second and whisper, “R-o-o-H A-f-z-a-H” I am not too sure but it might have given you momentary relief.

And in spite of knowing that they are toilet cleaners (though I have never wasted the drink for such purposes), I am sure all of you have increased your consumption of your favourite drinks (decide your own). Such is the effect of Delhi Summer.

We recently did a story where the dogs in Bhopal have been biting the passers-by as a result of the soaring temperature. Poor beings I reckon. They can’t carry water bottles in their bags, nor can they wear fancy shades making life miserable for them.

But I wonder if biting is a solution? But wait a second…why not? What do we do when we are helpless and absolutely frustrated just because of the heat? Close our fists? Take deep breaths? Grind our teeth? We do everything possible except biting the passers-by (just imagine yourself doing that in a busy market). Be rest assured to be shooed with bullets and not stones if you do that!

The temperature crossed the 41 degree mark on the last day of April. I was having lunch with some of my friends in a canteen. The fans (read blowers) were just too much to bear and even the food we were having was no different. No one complained of less salt in the food as I am sure everybody sweating litres would have compensated for the deficit. Nobody uttered a word and just somehow gulped the food. That’s what happens during Delhi Summer.

May 04, 2011. As usual I was on my way to office travelling in the DTC bus, that low floor green bus. I was all wet because of the heat and so were others. Finding a seat in a bus was like asking for too much. Using my long hands, I reached the conductor and asked for a ticket. This is a strange feeling when you want (read curse) the conductor to hand over the ticket ASAP. But he would take his own sweet time, tear limited tickets unlimited number of times before handing it over to you. Even before I could receive my ticket, there were people from all corners of the bus forwarding their ‘chillars’ with a ten-rupee-note pleading for tickets.

It’s a very hilarious observing people in a jam-packed DTC bus in a Delhi Summer. Conflicts are bound to occur every now and then. The temperature both inside and outside is unbearable. While the conductor is the one who faces the brunt of the heat most of the times, it is quite frequent that the passengers quarrel and abuse each other. And just to remind you, these are situations which are tolerable under normal circumstances but the Delhi summer brings the devil out of you. I am sure if human beings are legalized for biting each other, most of the cases would be witnessed in the capital as a result of the Delhi summer.

I am sure like me when all of you are out in the heat you wonder if it’s the hottest day in the capital. The rain Gods haven’t shown any mercy to the Delhiites who have been pleading for rain. And mind you, June hasn’t started yet. So keeping sipping your favourite drinks and avoid biting people…kyunki picture abhi baaki hai merey dost!

THE ART OF BEING POONAM PANDEY!

2011-04-10T06:43:00.000-07:00

India had just won the World Cup. As the fans jumped and hugged and screamed out of joy I heard someone yell, ‘Yeyyy!! (Pause) (Pause) (Pause) Poonam Pandey kahan hai bey!!’ I just probed if the guy was insane and once I was assured that he was not, I forgot his weird statement and rejoined the celebrations.

People congratulated each other as I saw a bunch of guys having a private discussion. Later on I was told that the topic of their discussion was Poonam Pandey to which I did not respond either as I was too lost thinking about the World Cup triumph.

I logged on to my Facebook account expecting some great patriotic World Cup updates and the first status I got stuck at read, ‘POONAM PANDEY!!!’ Now this was too much. I had to search it out. I did. I googled her image and the screen popped up several pictures of a woman (who looked like a lizard). It was then I came to know about her ‘commitment’ and what she called as ‘an inspirational initiative’ for the Men in Blue to bring the trophy home! This wannabe came up with a statement that ran riots on the social networking sites!

I later read an article where a renowned motivational speaker reacted to her statement. He said that after such a deal, some of the Indian players won’t mind losing the World Cup!

I am sure her next target would be to enter Big Boss season being the most crap contestant and continue with her usual crap. Or just wait for a second. In other ways she needs to be ‘firm’ on her promise for some more time and the reality channels would themselves approach her with the most lucrative deals.

And for all those who are anxious to know about her latest update, she has been hospitalized and will undergo an operation to remove kidney stones. When asked about her unfulfilled daring commitment, the new drama queen reiterated her statement to ‘stay tuned!’

The article is titled as the ‘the art of being Poonam Pandey’ as now it hardly matters if she is up to her commitment or not, as Poonam Pandey is a name which has suddenly grabbed all the eye balls. From an unknown Kingfisher model to the most searched person on the internet she has suddenly risen to instant popularity. She exactly knew how to plot a perfect career ahead. She has been the most Googled, Facebooked, Tweeted person on the net (she still could be), and the only person for whom she could be a real threat is Rakhi Sawant!

हजारों का मसीहा -अन्ना हज़ारे

2011-04-06T23:02:00.000-07:00

कैंसर से भी घातक ये जो भ्रष्टाचार है,
कल्पना से कहीं बड़ा इसका आकार है,

वो भूखा हमारे लिए मरने को तैयार है ,
उसे अनदेखा करना क्या सही व्यवहार है?

ना चाहत है ख्याति की , ना पैसे चाहे वो,
इन्साफ सभी के लिए जैसे तैसे चाहे वो,

डरते हैं ये नेता जो बन गया लोक -पाल बिल,
नेताओं और जजों की कुर्सियां जाएँगी हिल,

मुन्नी और शीला को तो खूब गाये तुम,
जो है सच्चा हीरो वो कैसे हो जाए गुम?

गर उसे कुछ हो गया तो मर जायेंगे सभी,
लाख रो लोगे , फिर भ्रष्टाचार मिटेगा ना कभी,

इस देश का युवा जिस दिन जाग जायेगा,
भ्रष्टाचार मुक्त भारत उभर कर सामने आयेगा,

कुछ नहीं कर सकते तो यारों जनचेतना जगाओ,
अन्ना हजारे के सपने से सबको अवगत कराओ!

WHEN THE CUP CAME BACK HOME…

2011-04-05T02:39:00.000-07:00

That six sailed into the stands, as firecrackers adorned the sky

The nation rose on its feet and Men in Blue began to cry.

They fought for the Cup, they fought for country’s pride,

Cricket is the only religion which does not divide.

The drum beats deafened the ears and the fans thronged the streets,

There was no end to celebrations, as shops went out of sweets.

It took Men in Blue, 28 years to repeat the history

They held their nerves to perfection that led to the remarkable victory.

They ran holding the tricolor, with their heads held high,

I had a lump in my throat as Tendulkar wept with joy.

It’s altogether a different team that no more succumbs to pressure,

The team is full of gems; the squad is a perfect treasure.

We will cherish these memories forever, when we all bled blue,

When the dream of 1.2 billion people, brilliantly came true.

It was a tribute to the master, the one we love so much,

It was led by MS Dhoni, the captain with a midas touch.

We defeated the arrogant Aussies, we defeated arch-rival Pakistan

Both the wins were overwhelming, it was a reformed Hindustan.

I am proud to be an Indian, I am proud of this Indian team,

My happiness has no boundaries, I want to jump, dance and scream.

It still seems to be a dream, the way we saw them play

We are the World Champions and the memories won’t fade away…

ONE FOR THE MASTER!

2011-04-01T20:12:00.000-07:00

I have seen it pretty often that people of our country are too lazy to stand during the national anthem. Some don't want to, some want to but don't, some wait for someone to be the beginner, some do stand up when it’s half over and for some it's just like a music that will last for 52 seconds. But I haven't seen a single soul who doesn't stand when the Tendulkar hits a century. In fact we are all on our feet with folded hands when he is on 99. As he removes his helmet and looks in the sky to thank the Lords who are equally satisfied with what he does, each and every soul of this country and even others applaud the man with a common feeling-'What a player...'

'As honest as Tendulkar' is an example which I will always use throughout my life. In an era where the players of the most powerful teams have on several occasions tried to fool the umpires and everybody else on the ground in a LIVE match, the master has been someone who has walked off the field even when the best of umpires were doubtful of his dismissal. The fact is you don't need an umpire when he is batting; he is honest enough to accept his flaws before giving his 100%. He has been doing this since his debut and he still continues to. This is one of the reasons why we have enormous respect for him and why we refer him as the 'God of cricket'.

He has been playing cricket with the same passion and enthusiasm for 22 years. The man is human and thus he would be having some unachieved desires. Who doesn't want to be a part of the World Cup winning team? In spite of having almost all the batting records in his kitty, this is something which the master has been yearning for. He wouldn't discuss it with anybody and would just concentrate towards selfless contributions one after another, but somewhere in his heart I believe there is the desire to touch the World Cup trophy with those hands that have plundered runs and have contributed when the country's pride was at stake on numerous occasions. And tell me guys is there anybody else on this planet who deserves the trophy more than him?

He has done enough to contribute as a single soul and I reckon if it was possible for an individual to win a World Cup, he would be having four of those by now.

The man has been meeting the expectations of so many fans for a very very long period. A lot has been said about his hundredth ton and people are expecting him to do the honours at the Wankhede Stadium-a ground where the genius has spent all his childhood. As the title might suggest to most of you that the article is about him being 'one short of his hundredth century', I would like to tell you that it was not something which is why I have used it. I meant to say that he is just 'one win short' of the only possible way in which the team can do a little bit for his incomparable contribution to Cricket. The World Cup trophy is the only thing I reckon which can be a perfect tribute to the master. It's something we all want him to hold in his hands.

One thing is for sure, no matter what the result is, no matter how much he scores, I would definitely stand up and pay a tribute to the master as he leaves the field in what would probably be his last World Cup appearance. He is a player who has been a source of inspiration for the youth towards the game, a player who has been the heart of Indian cricket for over two decades and will be forever.

And for all those who have wasted their lives and are still predicting how he would play in his next game, I just have to say-

Your predictions against him, could prove to be your own disaster,

As he is the unmatched genius, he is the master blaster!

Let the game begin!

WHEN THE NATION WENT BERSERK!

2011-03-31T18:13:00.000-07:00

A group of shirtless men gathered in front of my apartment and chanted slogans like 'Chak dey India' and 'F**d ki Pakistan ki'. They even carried beer bottles and were at their peak. Now if you minus the slogans from this celebration, such are similar scenes during the Holi festival which is then referred to as hooliganism. As I looked at those men with blurred eyes while the firecrackers adorned the sky, I couldn't believe what I saw next. All the families including women had come out in their balconies to cheer these men who jumped and wept and hugged and did everything possible to ensure their celebrations rocked Lahore!

Never in my life had I seen such a pleasing sight. What is referred to as hooliganism was being cheered by people from the best of families. What would have been an ugly sight on an ordinary day was looking so serene and justified. I even noticed women wiping the corner of their eyes with their dupattas as their men smiled with blurred eyes. Such is the charm of the game. An Indian victory over arch-rival Pakistan is an occasion where feelings beyond cricket are expressed.

I too blew my vuvuzela as hard as I could and I left for my office as I had a night shift. I had just walked a few steps where I once again met a mob. It was the time for some bhangda celebrations. As a man counted “one-two-three,” deafening drums began the carnival during mid night. Such celebrations are not seen even during Lohri or other festivals. Just to remind you that every third person was a stranger but who gave a damn keeping in mind the extraordinary occasion!

I somehow managed to reach the main road where I was sure I wouldn't find an auto rickshaw just like I didn't find the washer man during the day time. And my predictions were correct. After waiting for almost five minutes I decided to join the celebrations a couple of yards ahead. Now this celebration overshadowed all the others! A man with a gun stood in the middle of the road with his aides surrounding him. They stopped each and every vehicle that passed by and asked the driver or the male member to come out for a minute. The aim was not to loot them but to hug each of them for India’s victory which was followed by a hawaayi firing! The policemen also displayed their dancing skills in several celebrations (without demanding any bribe)

The way everyone went berserk has been the talk of the town and the better celebrations lie ahead. India has moved to the final of a World Cup for the third time and to be straightforward, they are just one win away from what can be referred as ‘the day for many lives.’

For all those people who believe men don’t cry April 02 is ‘the day’. Emotions will come out in a way like never before. While India clash against Sri Lanka at the Wankhede Stadium, no matter what is the result, men will cry for sure. And the way team India is bleeding blue right through this World Cup, folks be ready to bask in the glory of a much anticipated World Cup victory! We are in Mumbai to rewrite the history!

Armaano ko dilon mein sanjo k tum rakhna, kuch aisi wo jashna ki raat hogi,

Sitaare bhi hongey nazaare bhi hogey, us CUP sey hamari jo mulaqaat hogi!

Jai Hind!

'The Wednesday'-Clash of the Titans!

2011-03-29T20:11:00.000-07:00

Good Morning guys. It’s here! The much awaited clash between the arch-rivals is here! Even I am aware (read worried) that Mohali has witnessed heavy rains but being a sports lover I am sharing this article ‘today’ itself hoping that the rain Gods don't do injustice to all of us.

It’s the day when the roads would be deserted and the only people found gossiping on roads would be the ones who would have escaped from asylums as I am sure the normal ones would be busy enjoying the game. It’s the day when the Facebook walls will be flooded with patriotic quotes and jokes. It’s the day when the news channels would take a break from their daily (read sensational) bulletins and telecast stories which express feelings beyond cricket and it’s a day when even the bosses would like to sit with their employees and enjoy the thrilling contest. It’s a day when once again people from all religions would gather for a common cause-to cheer for cricket. And why not it’s a special day, it’s ‘the Wednesday!’ India and Pakistan will be facing each other in a World Cup match after 8 years!

While many believe that the corporate world succumbed to the pressure of the much awaited encounter by declaring half days, making adequate arrangements in the offices to satisfy the fans who were in the favour of a national holiday, I reckon it is quite obvious of them to do so. I mean losses worth crores would seem to be peanuts when compared to the satisfaction derived from watching India-Pakistan play together!

Both the teams have been playing exceptional cricket right throughout the tournament. Their determination to lift the trophy is known from the fact that both of them have defeated (read dethroned) Australia in this World Cup. While Pakistan ended the winning streak of the Kangaroos, India went a step further and ruled them out of the World Cup ending their 12 year dominance in the tournament.

I would not be diplomatic in saying it’s another step towards ‘aman ki asha’ It’s not a war but whatever would be the result, riots are sure to follow. The players would meet to fight for their pride. While Pakistan has a point to prove of how well they have performed as a unit under tremendous pressure, India will be looking to prove that they undoubtedly deserve to be the World Champions!

The match is special as it will see one of the most renowned celebrities who will turn up to witness the epic encounter. While the Indian Prime Minister and his counterpart from Pakistan might be seen discussing (read arguing/compromising) upon a few words to cement their suspended bilateral relations, the cricket fans would have a lot to cheer about on the ground.

The match is also very special as it would be the last World Cup match for many icon cricketers. People could probably see the breezy pace of the Rawalpindi Express for the last time as he has announced his retirement after the World Cup. I am sure the majority of people (ready Everybody) in the stadium would be there just to witness the hundredth century by the master blaster.

So get ready with popcorns and get your favourite food cooked as believe me you would grow extremely lazy once the match kicks off. Hey you crazy fans get your faces painted and test your vuvuzela’s as you’ll enjoy cricket like you have never before. People suffering from heart diseases, should not under any circumstances try to connect with any mode of communication. And those who hate cricket better go off to hibernation for a day.

There is a similarity between the World Cup matches played and the wars fought between the two countries. Pakistan has never been victorious in any of those and let’s hope that the record is intact as both the sides clash in what is expected to be a high-octane mega semi-final clash!

Cheers!

Chak dey!

My Nanaji...

2011-03-07T03:57:00.000-08:00

My grandparents run a school in Gorakhpur. Located on the central medical college road, it is one of the oldest Hindi medium schools in Gorakhpur. As far as I know the strength of the school never reached above 300, but the students who passed out from the school were very disciplined and well behaved. Without a doubt I can say that the reason behind that is the principles which had been laid by my Nanaji who was also the founder of the school.

Nanaji reminded me of Mahatma Gandhi. He led his life on Gandhian principles which can inspire anybody. He always wore a white Kurta-Lungi and his food matched with his lifestyle-simple.

One could find everybody inside the house but to meet Nanaji one had to be in the school campus. He would either be smiling at the flowers or collecting vegetables from his farm which he further distributed to guests and relatives.

Nanaji spent most of his time in the school campus. The school campus was like his second home. He had planted flowers on the boundaries of the campus and there was a separate section, where he had his small farm. Farm which had varieties of vegetables and it was very rare that vegetables were purchased from the market. With extreme love and affection he looked after the flowers and the vegetables just like parents do for the upbringing of their children. The seldom occasions when he lost his temper was when a cricket ball hit his flowers and vegetables. Sometimes he even hid the ball in his lungi and pretended as if he had seen nothing. We were so used to this, so we apologized and promised next time the ball won’t hit his plants after which he used to return the ball with a smile. Even he knew that the ball would reach his farm in another 10 minutes but for Nanaji the happiness of his 14 grandchildren had far more importance than any other thing in the world.

During my school days he often asked me to read and learn more about politics. Sometimes he even tried to teach me the basics of politics, which then bounced my head by a huge margin. I told him about my interest in cricket. He used to smile and say, “Politics ki bhi knowledge honi chahiye, bahot kaam aati hai.” When I entered my professional career, it was then I realized that politics was something I got to study and learn if I had any plans of surviving in Journalism. It was then I used to think if I had listened to him, he would have taught me and things would have been much easier. Today when I am into journalism and very much acquainted with politics, I wish he was here so that we could have some interesting sessions based on politics.

Nanaji always taught us to care for the animals who are unable to express their hunger, pain and other feelings. As a part of his daily routine after having his dinner, he carried chapattis for dogs, cows who waited for him to arrive with their food. Hatred was something which never existed in his life. Nobody has a clue what and moreover how much of financial help he did for the needy. It was only after he passed away that we realized the fact.

In a procession to feed people thirteen days after his death, people who were strangers gathered at the house with tears gushing from their eyes. "He was a great man. We can never forget what he did for me and my family," was something we heard from most of the people. The family didn't know how to react when people who were strangers came up with similar reaction. He wasn't a celebrity, yet his popularity had no boundaries.

Things are back to routine. There is a gardener who has pledged to look after the family of Nanaji inside the school campus till his last breath. Yet I am sure the flowers and plants do not blossom as they did in his presence. There are chapatis cooked specially for dogs and cows who still get their share of meal every night. Now their eyes search for their maseeha and not the food. Nanaji's room is equally taken well care of. His belongings are neatly kept inside his room. Nanaji's demise has affected the appetite of the entire family. His smiling photograph neatly framed in his room is something everybody looks up to as a source of inspiration. The kids miss his presence, so do elders. Things are back to routine, yet his absence is incomparable.

I am sure if ever God plans to take a break from his daily routine, he will approach my Nanaji asking for a replacement. May his soul rest in peace.

He always had a smile, he didn't carry grudges any...
He was the maseeha of hundreds, he was the saviour for many...

NOTE:-
My Nanaji left for heavenly abode on 7th March' 2010. This article is dedicated to him on his first death anniversary.

That carrom match...

2011-01-17T08:52:00.000-08:00

Carrom has been one of my favourite indoor games. I remember days sitting alone and playing the game. I was very fascinated to see the four pockets galloping the carrom disks one after another. That was the age when losing was something that easily brought tears. Winning either by hook or by crook was the motto.

My sister was my opponent in the game most of the times. The only person who gave me tough competition in the game was one of my cousin sisters-Toshi. The blog is about the most memorable and fascinating carrom match between us. It also involves another character-Pragya, who was 7-8 years old when this match was being played. It’s that age when kids end every sentence with a ‘?’. Pragya was no exception. Almost every sentence of hers had a KNOW. The story follows.

I had no clue what went wrong? Was I playing after too long? Was it the extra powder on the board (an excuse to make me happy)? I admit Toshi was playing her best and winning every match further boosted her confidence. Was it my bad luck…or…was it Pragya? “I can play better than you Suyash bhaiya. You hold the striker in a ajeeb way. Give it to me. I shall show my way of holding it.” Now there was not a percent doubt that it was Pragya who affected my concentration. “Do you know Sony TV will be showing Kuch Kuch Hota hai today. Next week they are coming up with DDLJ. It’s a part of the SRK series for a month. I have told mom to let me watch all of those. I will not study a single page if she doesn’t.” I wish I had a remote to mute her for a couple of hours. Now I noticed Toshi had realized this and she made everything possible to have Pragya sit by her side. I was losing the game…and moreover my patience. “Why don’t you get a haircut Suyash bhaiya. This long hair doesn’t suit you. Or are you a part of the Dhoni trend.” It was enough. I very politely asked her, “Pragya can you leave us for a while? We are playing a game, if you don’t mind can you join us after an hour or so?” “No Pragya, sit by my side,” Toshi said grabbing her hand. “Why should she leave? You are losing the game, so is it her fault?”. “Ummm…Yes, why should I leave? How am I supposed to affect the game? I am sitting on the bed and not the board. How can you 'put the blame on me' (in the famous tone)” Pragya said after which Toshi winked at her and they hi-fived. I simply hate people who hi-five each other on PJ’s!

There I was. Women power started to dominate over my mind. It wasn’t just the game I had to deal with; I also had to deal with the battle against these two tiny sisters of mine. The status of the game was 17-0. Whoever reached 29 points would be the winner. I was close to a whitewash. Toshi knew this was the best chance to win a game against me in this fashion and narrate every second of her victory to all the relatives of how she defeated me 29-0! I am sure she might even narrate strangers she met on the road and mumble it while she was asleep.

Though it was my turn to arrange the board, Toshi did so, as she could not afford to waste a single second. She could smell her victory. We played another game and with absolute perfection she continued to send the coins in the pockets. My shots went too wayward, and now with every coin I missed were followed by giggles of Toshi and Pragya. “Achha tell me something. The cricketers wear helmets and pads. What about their chest?” a typical Pragya question was fired at me. “They do have protection there,” I said wishing if I could bundle her in a bag for a while. “But how do you know that?” “I don’t know anything Pragya! Will you just shut up and go away!!!!” I had completely lost it. Tiny tears rolled down her tiny eyes. Silence prevailed for seconds. “Why are you shouting at me?? What have I done? ” and she started crying. Will she leave now I thought? How could Toshi miss the opportunity to console her lucky charm and she hugged Pragya as a symbol of sympathy (I am sure it was rather an attempt to make sure she didn’t go away). “Achha listen listen, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I am not well. Oh see, how bad you look when you cry.” Both of them did not utter a word. I was too rude I guess. “Ok listen I am sorry again. But please don’t cry. Go and wash your face and ask mausi to prepare a cup of tea for me after which I will take you out for ice cream. Now say cheese??” I had just hit the jackpot!! Without wasting a second she smiled back and rushed for whatever business I had asked her for. I looked back at Toshi who gave me a surprised look. She had won the game by 12 points which enhanced her lead to 27-0! “Just two points away! I am just two points away from winning the match. Tilllyy lee lee!” She danced on the bed as I arranged the board.

In Pragya's absence I won the first game of the match which reduced the lead to 27-11. “Not bad Syu bhai. Don’t think you played well. I thought of gifting you some points as you were so upset!” By the mid of the next game, it had turned into a very serious match. Toshi just needed two points and I needed plenty but something had happened. Toshi’s game went wayward. I won the second game reducing the lead to 27-20. Now it was a close fight. We continued the game in absolute silence and the slightest of missed chances were followed by ‘Shit yaar!’ I won the next two games by one points each reducing the lead to 27-22. We played the next games with ‘either by hook or by crook’ motto! I finally won the game 31-27. Toshi banged her fist on the board out of absolute frustation. “Hota hai, hota hai. Badey badey games mein aisi chhoti chhoti haar jeet to hoti rehti hai,” I said immediately after which I was attacked with a pillow!

By then Pragya returned with a cup of tea, more than half of which was spilled in her journey from the kitchen. She wore a new frock and had a neatly combed pony which did not exist a while ago. “See Pragya I won the match!!” I said while she still concentrated in balancing the tray. “Aww Toshi Di, aap haar gayin kya?” Toshi did not utter word. “Ek toh waise he behcaari haari huyi hai tum aur jaley par namak chhidak rahi ho?” I said and could hear Toshi cursing me as me and Pragya left for the Ice-cream deal!

“Once we reach home, will you play a carrom match with me?” she asked anticipating a definite why-not from me. I was too tired for another carrom match. I looked at her, her eyes were still moist. I could not take another chance, so I agreed. “You know whomever I ask for to play carrom, never says no. I have improved my game. You know Suyash Bhaiya when I am alone I practice a lot. I clean the entire board in 1 hour 20 minutes, you know. I am a bit bad at rewind na, so I pick some of the disks which are left. I know that is not right but I shall improve. I will also show you how I hold the striker, it will help your game. And you know… ” she continued to bless me with her extraordinary carrom skills and gave a damn if I at all was interested.

TIME TO PEN-2010!

2011-01-01T09:21:00.001-08:00

Last week of December 2009 and first two weeks of January 2010 were some of the best days of my life. I had resigned in my previous organization in the last week of 2009. Getting up late in the morning, meanwhile watching my room mates leaving for their respective offices, cursing me while I winked at them from my quilt, ahh, I couldn't have asked for more. Dilli ki sardi was at its peak at that time and I really enjoyed those 15-20 days being deliberately unemployed.

Being Jobless in the initial weeks of 2010, I utilised the time and something special happened. Something I had always wanted to. 2010 was a year when I finally fell in love with my blog. It’s a different feeling looking at my blog and read the feedback for each of my articles. It was through my blog that I came closer to many people. It's my black board where I share my feelings.

2009 was a year when I decided to filter my group of friends, some from school days, some from college days. It was not that easy for me as some of them were really close to me but they had a mask, which made me think I would not do justice to myself if I still categorized them under ‘Friends’. So I thought to give a try to this filtration process. The results were amazing. It was a step that I would be proud of, throughout my life. I suggested some of my friends to adopt the same formula who were struggling with such relationships. 2010 was a shocker as well as I had some people back into my life. People who were very close to me, and disappeared all of a sudden and people whom I thought I would never have in my life again. Meanwhile Facebook continued to 'search frenz' and I reunited with some of them after 10-15 years! Thanx Mr ZucKerberg. We all have discovered that it’s an addiction, but I guess it’s too late to discover that.

2010 was a year when I travelled the most. The 'Whoa-Goa' trip with my amazing amigoz, the trip to Hyderabad and trips to undiscovered places in saddi Dilli were memorable experiences. In spite of all these, I could not match up with the number of trips my sister had during the year. She boasts to be a HR Manager with a top notch BPO firm, but I often wonder if she is a full time worker at a travel magazine. She wishes me Happy New Year from a different place in India, Christmas from a different place and before the year ends she is in the air for her next destination. I won’t lie on the second day of a New Year, so I definitely feel jealous.

2010 would also be remembered as a year when I attended the most number of wedding ceremonies. My friends, most of which were girls, got married. I just don't remember the faces of their grooms, but I can exactly draw and describe the food that was served, not to forget the desserts!

2010 was a year when I was associated with one organization. My initial unemployed status ended at a news agency. An organization where once again I met the most khurafaati bunch of people. I never do it deliberately guys, trust me, but whichever organization I join, I have the most khurafaati bunch of people as my friends! With this rate, I am sure I will soon have an army that would threaten the world!

2010 saw India organizing the Commonwealth Games (successfully some might say, which is debatable). But whatever it was, being a sports lover it was GRAND for me! Critics might react over this word again, but the opening and the closing ceremonies said it all. 2010 has a much much much importance for me. CRICKET WORLD CUP 2011! I truly believe that the Indian players should play their heart out and gift the trophy to a man who according to me is still playing cricket just in order to repeat the honours for his country after 1983-Sachin Tendulkar!

2010 was again a memorable year. I would remember it more for the gains and less for the losses. I would like to thank all those who were with me throughout this year. Thanx for being such a lovely company and I look forward to the same in 2011.

As I finish this article and go to bed,
I wish you all, have a rocking year ahead!!

●●●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●●●
(¯`’★♫♪•♥ WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY NEW YEAR ♥ •♫♪★’´¯) ●●●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●●●

तो क्या बात होती ...

2010-10-07T06:42:00.000-07:00

दिखावे की दुनिया में चेहरों के ऊपर
मुखौटे ना होते, तो क्या बात होती

वो झरने, जो चुपचाप संगीत गाते
जो वो बोल पाते, तो क्या बात होती

वो मिटटी से लगाव, वो कागज़ की नाव
वो पल लौट आते, तो क्या बात होती

सामने जो बनते हैं, मेरे चहेते
पीठ पीछे ना बदलें, तो क्या बात होती

दो पल के लिए, सब हाथ थाम लेते
ज़िन्दगी भर निभाएं, तो क्या बात होती

सांस चलने तक सब , साथ हैं मुस्कुराते
कोई मरने पर रोये, तो क्या बात होती...

MOM= Magicians Of Many!

2010-07-07T02:52:00.000-07:00

One of my dear friend recently went through a major surgery. The doctors had advised her rest of close to 3-4 months. She was disheartened as she was almost settled in her company performing pretty well. A loss of four months was too much to afford. But miracles do happen. She rang me up a month later and much to my surprise, she was calling me from her office! I asked her how it all happened and she said, “Suyash even I never thought I would be fit so soon, but it happened, and I would give 100% credit to my mummy, I myself don’t have a clue as to how did she do this, I love her sooo much!

I got all my answers. 'Mummy' is the word and we all love our moms, don’t we? I mean the doctor had prescribed her a rest of four months and her mother even denied the law of rest? They all are magicians aren’t they? With perfect timing, they are masters of handling any kind of situation.

How many times do we sleep and when it suddenly gets cold, she is the one to wrap us with warm quilts. As if she is awake all night, watching her child sleep. Just a couple of sneezes and she would come up with ‘n’ number of solutions.

I was the ‘first boy child’ of my family. I don’t exactly remember but my Mummy, my Masi’s remind me of days when I used to get up early in the morning before anybody else got up, my hair touching my shoulders and my mom running behind me to catch her semi nude son before he goes all naked! It was difficult for her to catch me, as I guess I used to be in huge rush being semi nude. She would finally pick me up, love me moreover dress me and then leave for household works. No matter I was right or wrong, she was always, always by ‘my’ side, against the whole world.

I am 25 now, but her expressions haven’t changed yet. Whenever I go back home, she loves me the same way, the only difference being that she doesn’t have to dress me anymore. It’s just that we get too conscious when our mothers try to be too caring or loving as we believe we are grownups. The only time when we become kids again is when we fall sick. We get ample of time to think of days when our mothers spent sleepless nights just because we are ill, all without any complain.

I would like to tell all of my friends that during my childhood days I was addicted to sleep with a hand on my mummy’s tummy. This ‘one-hand-on-mummy's-tummy’ theory acted like sleeping pills for me. My younger cousin brothers, Sakshu and Bittu can’t sleep unless and until they have a part of my Masi’s hair in their hands! I mean, why only moms? Dads have better tummies I guess (not that soft ones' I agree), but I haven’t heard a case where a child is addicted to his/her dad’s tummy (may be because they snore too much), or may be holding a part of the dad’s moustache (may be because it hurts).

“Did you eat your breakfast? What did you have in your lunch? Beta, is there a possibility of coming home for a few days? Should I send some laddoos this time, you like home made mango pickles na? It’s too cold out there, did you purchase some warm clothes? How is everything going? In case if you need anything don’t hesitate, you can just ask for it.” These are questions that tend to irritate us sometimes, just because often we are unable to understand the love and emotion that is attached with each and every question. We get irritated of answering the same questions, ignoring the fact that our moms wouldn’t be able to sleep if even one of them is left unanswered.

We consider ourselves to be mature enough to handle ourselves. There is a change in the attitude, but mothers never change. No matter how old we grow, they still see the kid whom she gave birth to, the kid whom she fed every day, the kid whom she clinched and slept. All I want to say is lets be kids once again for our moms, at least let us not deprive them of the way they want to love and care for us, and I guess this is the least we can do to them (but the best as well) as compared to the selfless love and care they have blessed us with.

These lines are not written by me but they summarize my entire article in just four lines-

Sakht raaston mein bhi asaan safar lagta hai, ye mujhey meri maan ki duaaon ka asar lagta hai

Kitni raaton sey meri maan nahi soyi, bas ik baar maine kaha tha ‘maan mujhey andhere sey dar lagta hai’...

CELEBRITY SWAYAM-WARS!

2010-05-08T12:44:00.000-07:00

Love marriage or arranged? Or love cum arranged. The discussion can go on for hours (for days if there are more women in the discussion) and yet people will stick to their personal opinions. In the recent past, I have noticed that the celebrities have been involved in certain Swayamvars which have turned out to be Swayam-Wars. Here are a few of my case studies-

CASE STUDY 1- RAKHI KA SWAYAM-WAR

“I simply hate that Rakhi Sawant! Such a witch! I mean how can anybody watch her shows? I thought NDTV Imagine was a good entertainment channel! But why did they do this? I mean why Rakhi? Why is Indian media so fond of that #$#@$%#%^!,” Tina said.

She was a new employee in my previous office. It was lunch time, we had ordered from Dominos and her conversation was no less than chilly flakes.

I mean Rakhi Sawant is a topic which one would never like to come up with! But is it possible that a breakfast, lunch, dinner is complete without talking about her, especially when her serial Rakhi Ka Swayamvar has become the talk of the town? Never.

I thought Tina was one of those sensible girls who would never again speak of Rakhi Sawant, not about her shows at least! I was sick and tired of the female section who pretended to be equally sick and tired of her, but..but the whole day, they discussed nothing but Rakhi Sawant! Tina’s anti-Rakhi statement gave me some relief, she was a new joinee and I was happy to see we were not hiring defects!

“But you know Suyash, I think they will definitely get Mika to the show! Wow! It would be such fun to watch! Achha by the way, did you see the last episode? I can bet and tell you that guy is a flirt! I have been noticing him since the very first episode! I like that guy, hez soooooo cute! I don’t know why they took Rakhi in the show! You know in the third episode she couldn’t even pronounce the name of the Lords properly! Such a shame na?”

Ufff! Yeaah! Such a shame it was! Tina wasn’t an exception! She didn’t miss a single episode of the entire Swayamvar series and narrated every episode and all her stories ended with ‘I hate Rakhi Sawant and that stupid show!’

Anyways, out of the 18 fools who participated in the show, Elesh Parujanwala, was one who exchanged garlands with her (for me it was a floral tribute for Elesh)! But later on Elesh was back to his senses, and he finally broke up with Rakhi. I mean life rarely gives you a second chance! I was glad to have seen him escape from the verge of being ruined!

CASE STUDY 2-RAHUL DULHANIYA LEY JAYEGA

“Hmmmm hmmm hmmmm! Heyyyy heyyy heyyy hmmmm hmmm haaaaan haaan, hein hein hein hein, ahan haan haan ummnnn ummnnn hmmmm hmmmm.”

I have never ever seen/heard such a horrible laughter! That was Rahul Mahajan for you! I wonder how his kids will ever survive with his monster kind pathetic laughter! Hearing his laughter, I can hardly differentiate whether he is scared or he is trying to scare some one.

His first marriage turned out to be another Swayam-War when he had married his long time girl friend Shweta and they were divorced later on. I was a part of the studio audience while she gave an interview to IBN-7 news channel regretting her decision of having married Rahul.

In case of Rakhi ka Swayamvar Elen proved to be lucky! Dimpy Ganguly couldn’t and the couple was married live on the television! Only time will tell if they are married, or they are happy, or they are happily married!

CASE STUDY 3-SANIA-SHOAIB CONTROVERSY

Huh! There seems to be no end to celebrity Swayam-Wars!

Now here, both had issues with their 'first innings'.

Sania was earlier engaged to her childhood friend Sohrab Mirza. Very soon their parents called off the engagement. Reason given by Sania was incompatibility! Her dreams were 'smash'ed!

Mr Malik even had a better story. He had signed a Nikahnama with Ayesha Siddiqui way back in 2002. It was again called off as it was an agreement over the phone, that proved to be a false agreement. As per Shoaib the photographs which were sent to him were of a slim Ayesha, but Mallik was ‘heavily’ disappointed to witness the real Ayesha. He had no answer for this 'googly'!

Both Sania and Shoaib have gone through one Swayam-Wars each, and even this one is creating a rage in India! Only time will tell if this one is a peaceful moreover permanent Swayamwar or it proves to be another Swayam-War. My best wishes for their 'second innings'!

MY CONVOCATION SPEECH

2010-04-08T13:58:00.000-07:00

The speech was delivered by me on 3rd April, 2010 which was our convocation day-

Keeping the fact in mind that whenever I am given the opportunity to speak (occasionally it is) I get into the non stop mode, Menon Sir very specifically told me, “You have to deliver a 2 minute speech. Just to confirm that I didn’t have different plans he often confirmed on google chat~ “I hope you are ready with your 2-3 minute speech.” So I decided to write my speech, as by this means I have limited material to speak thus meeting my deadline(for once atleast).

Thank You Menon Sir for giving me this great opportunity to deliver a speech at our Convocation. Friends I am truly privileged to be in your midst on an occasion, which is both joyous and emotional. Not that emotional for me as I live just 150 steps from the college so I know I can visit it anytime that too within no time!

Convocation is an occasion for looking back and looking forward. In fact, while each one of the students and the faculty may recall the academic performance of the students, what is perhaps more important is to look ahead.

I on behalf of all my batch mates sincerely thank the faculty members of SAIMC for guiding us throughout the inspiring journey.

I am sure you all would agree that there is another group, which is not a part of the audience, but the day would be incomplete without thanking them, that is our families. They are the ones who have sacrificed for our success; who have provided us emotive support in all our endeavors and aspirations. Our success today, follows years of patience, support and love of our parents and families and the dedication and commitment of our faculty members.

Enough of serious stuff guys
Here I am with my TOP 10 SAIMC MOMENTS!

I would like to share 10 most valuable moments I have enjoyed in the institution.

1) The day we came to know that we won’t be having any exams, no exams meant no marking system. Other batches occasionally had objections to it but they couldn’t help it.

2) The co operation while producing 'Quest',a tabloid which was supposed to be produced in a month, which turned out to be a quarterly, ask Menon sir and he will tell you it was actually half yearly.

3) Working on my thesis and glad to have completed it. I would rather not like to disclose the duration we all took to complete it...

4) It would be unfair if I do not include our News Bulletin in the list. I mean it is very easy to sit on a chair and anchor the bulletin but the tedious task was done by other colleagues. Thanx to all of you!

5) The chance to make my debut in the movie~ Gulaab. Thanx to Amitabh for giving me the opportunity. I was disheartened to know that Amitabh has left for Mumbai but the actor within me is still live and active with Ranbir Paaji.

Did I miss something guys? In case if you think I did, here are my last five SAIMC moments!

6) Pondicherry trip
7) Pondicherry Trip
8) Ditto
9) Ditto
10) Ditto

Concluding my speech I would like to quote few lines I read recently. 'Our time is limited; let’s not waste it living someone else's life. Let’s not be trapped by dogma which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions; drown out our own inner voice.

And the most important thing, lets have the courage to follow our heart and intuition. They somehow already know what we truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.'

On a personal level I have enjoyed each and every day at SAIMC. I have been a part of photography, editing, filmmaking and almost everything, which often made my parents wonder if I was actually pursuing Journalism course from the college.

Once again I sincerely thank all my faculty members and my batch mates from all courses for being such a great company. The journey has indeed been memorable.

I wish you all are happy, your lives are full of laughter,
You all reach the zenith of success, and do wonders ever after!

NOTE:-
1) Menon Sir was the Head of department for our batch
2) Amitabh and Ranbir Paaji both are students of film making who have given me opportunities to act in short films
3) I have completed my course from Sri Aurobindo Institute for Mass Communication (SAIMC). Every year the college takes a trip to Pondicherry which is very memorable.

JAMES, GOMES, ME and…RAGHU DIXIT!

2010-03-23T02:22:00.000-07:00

“Bhai I don’t think we can have any fun at this place, let’s go back,” said Gomes with a face which certainly said the story. James followed him. I stood in a state of shock as to how convince them that Indian Habitat Centre, New Delhi was a different place.

“I guess it’s our bad luck today, else trust me almost every day they have a rock band performing here. Chalo koi nahi I have my digi cam so we can click some pix here,’. Now ‘being clicked ’ is something no one has an objection to. We all are ever ready to pose all the time, at all the places (don’t think of objectionable ones).

“Hmm Ok. That should be some fun,” said Gomes, with an expression as if our parents caught us with CD's of porn movies. We began our hunt for suitable locations.

So there we were. As I had promised James and Gomes we were on a weekend outing. They were adamant to visit Priya or Saket but I somehow convinced them that they should once visit Indian Habitat Centre(IHC), as it’s a place that has a lot of creative atmosphere. Adding spice to my conversation I also told them that every evening there is some or the other rock band performance as well plus the crowd is young and attractive. Just for the sake of a Rock Band and a young crowd, they were here and all we found was a photography exhibition (no matter how hard we tried we couldn't take a message from any of them) and screening of a soundless-expressionless documentary film (we didn’t die as it was not motionless).

"Hows this? Shift a little…no no to your left…or no, to your right…what the hell…left or right?...no no to your left and my right…ohho now don’t fight…waaaow! What a beautiful sight!!"~ Is a brief of the photo session.

The photo session continued and continued, 3 of us posed a trillion times in zillions poses and we gave up once we fell short of better poses. Now the situation was worse, we all were extremely tired and we kept walking just for the sake of it. These are the times when you think if you had a machine which could take you home in seconds. James and Gomes were still disappointed as they were here to enjoy music and the young crowd was much younger than they had expected. So my funda of a Youngistan failed.

“The pix are really nice,” I tried to divert them from ‘This-place-sucks!’ mode, to which they just nodded which meant I failed again.

The last time I visited Indian Habitat Centre with my college friends, it was an amazing experience. I personally liked the creative, lively atmosphere. We had a local rock band performing, and all of us had a gala time, and yes not to forget few hours could be easily spent praising the USP's of the young crowd. I felt bad for James and Gomes who didn’t complain as they knew that it was more of a bad day than a bad place. I cursed myself and thought I should have taken them to one of the PVR’s.

“Dheen chiiik!! Dheen Dhun Dhun! Thudd! Doom doom! Triiing tringgg!!,” was a sudden noise which mingled into our ears. Before both of them could realize what it was I said “Rushhhhhhhhhhhh guys! That’s a rock band!!” We ran and ran and ran and what we saw was something unpredictable. We had this band performing before us and their dress was Kurta and lungi! And and…the lead singer had a ghunghroo in his legs as well…was it a ‘normal’ band? We didn’t have time to think about this. The band began with its first song-Ambar. Within no time we were a part of the crowd jumping, clapping, singing.

“Waaaoww!!! Amaaziing!!! Who iss hee?,” now this was unexpected, almost hundreds of us were tuning ourselves to the tunes of this amazing singer. Everybody was flabbergasted, as most of us didn’t know him at all.

He sang a series of songs. The boring place suddenly turned out to be a pleasant sight. The crowd was electrified after witnessing brilliant performances one after another. Three men played the guitar, to give them company were a drummer and a violinist. Every performance was a master class! He finally introduced himself. He was Raghu Dixit. I won’t be writing much of him here but guys mark my words just TYPE-RAGHU DIXIT on YouTube and you can hear his songs which will take you to a different world of music.

I was extremely happy, as my amigo’s were tapping their feet’s and clapping and singing. The performance got over only when the hosts announced it was close to 10:30 pm. I looked at James and Gomes. ‘Bhai this was one of the most memorable days, ultimate maza aaya!,” they said. We hi fived each other. We went to the counter and purchased a CD of Raghu Dixit’s album. The man had made our day! All three of us continued singing his songs throughout our journey back home. James and Gomes were happy. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to see my friends happy. The ordinary looking day became one of the most memorable days of our lives.

खबर का असर ...

2010-03-01T11:20:00.000-08:00

जबसे खबर आई है सरहद पार चली है गोली,

अभय की माँ की तबसे बंद है बोली।

वो बेसन के लड्डू जिस हाँथ से बनाए थे,

वो बेटे के वापस आने के जो ख्वाब सजाये थे,

वो सारे ख्वाब हकीकत में बदल न पाए,

हकीकत सुन घरवाले संभल ना पाए।

वो कल के बने लड्डू अब लगने लगे बासी,

कुछ इस कदर घर में छाई है उदासी।

गुड्डू ने खिलौने वाली बंदूकों से खेलना छोड़ दिया,

कुछ बंदूकों ने ही उसकी खुशियों का रूख मोड़ दिया।

इस वाक्ये ने सबकी आँखों को नम कर दिया,

गुड्डू ने अचानक अपनी फर्माहिशों को कम कर दिया।

कोमल के पल्लू का किनारा सूखने का नाम ही नहीं ले रहा,

गुड्डू का मासूम चेहरा उसे ठीक से रोने भी नहीं दे रहा,

हर तस्वीर उसे एक लम्हे की याद दिलाती है,

'पापा जल्द आएंगे' …कह वो गुड्डू को बहलाती है।

बेटा इस बार पूरे दो महीनो के लिए आने वाला था,

अपनी मौजूदगी से ही घर को मह्कानेवाला था।

अभय के बाबूजी की रौबीली आवाज़ भी शिथिल हो गयी है,

अभय की अनेक तस्वीरें अब धूमिल हो गयी हैं।

अब तो माँ ने सबसे बोलना छोड़ दिया है,

घरवालों ने जीते जी अपना दम तोड़ दिया है...

कई दिन हो गए किसी ने किसी से कुछ ना कहा,

घर में दीवारों और इंसानों में ज्यादा फर्क ना रहा...

अब तो आंसुओं ने भी बहने से मना कर दिया,

इक खबर ने यहाँ की खुशियों को फ़ना कर दिया।

HISTORY RE-WRITTEN BY A GENIUS ‘Such-In’ form~ Sachin Tendulkar!

2010-02-25T06:48:00.000-08:00

24th February 2010, a day, when cricket history was re written. A Golden Day for cricket, not only for Indian fans, but for cricket fans all across the world.

Such was the impact of the occasion that offices had turned into playgrounds as even Bosses were no more Bosses as they came out of their cabins, joining the mob of employees, to have a look at the LCD with fingers crossed, awaiting that magical moment. It has been rightly said, he is the man who can stop time in India!

And there it was. Playing his heart out once again for his country, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar reached the magical landmark of 200 runs in ODI matches and one could hear people cheering even from their graveyards! It’s an achievement which was truly deserved by the Genius master! The crowd at the Captain Roop Singh Stadium went gaga, as they witnessed the historic moment!

The Face book walls were coloured with unlimited words of praise for the master blaster! The love and inspiring status messages were replaced with self-written quotes for Tendulkar. Not to forget the News Channels had come up with some ‘Great Tendulkar Stories’ which were much better than the self made sensational ones’.

May 21, 1997, (Chennai, India), playing against India, Saeed Anwar of Pakistan scored 194 runs off 146 balls, which had 22 boundaries and 5 sixes, breaking the record of 189 by Vivian Richards.

This remained a world record for 12 years.

16 Aug 2009, (Bulawayo, Zimbabwe), playing against Bangladesh, Charles Coventry of Zimbabwe equaled Anwar’s record when he scored 194* off 156 balls with 16 boundaries and 7 sixes.

24th Feb, 2010, (Gwalior, India), was a day when Tendulkar not only surpassed the highest score, but also became the first batsman ever to score a double century in ODI matches.

Scoring 200* runs off just 147 delivers which had 25 boundaries and 3 sixes, the master blaster entertained the crowd, and the spectators at the Captain Roop Singh Stadium were truly blessed , as they witnessed his innings LIVE. Tendulkar also became the world’s first batsman to have scored 25 boundaries in an innings in ODI matches.

He batted throughout the Indian innings, had a bit of cramp after he reached 150, yet he didn’t call for a runner. When India came to bowl, the master was up for fielding from the very first ball. What else should we say about his commitment towards the game?

Just a day before on 23rd February 1988, Tendulkar along with his mate Vinod Kambli had scored a famous school partnership record of 664 runs for their school Sharadashra. It has to be a special day for him. It is amazing to feel the way he handles the enormous pressure of millions of fans.

Ravi Shastri very rightly described him as “The Superman of India.” He is Sachin, who is ‘Such-in’ incredible form that the 100 century milestone seems to be even closer, with every match he is playing. We all bow to you master blaster! We all should consider ourselves to be truly blessed as we are born in the era of Sachin 'Almighty' Tendulkar!

वो शख्स

2010-01-28T11:06:00.000-08:00

जो होना था वो एक एक कर होता चला गया
वो गुजरे हुए कल पर रोता चला गया...

कुछ अजनबी आते रहे, उसकी ज़िन्दगी में
वो सबको इक धागे में पिरोता चला गया...

हर इन्सान में दरिंदगी के कुछ धब्बे मौजूद थे
वो उन धब्बों को इत्तेफाक समझ धोता चला गया...

दोस्तों की एक पूरी फ़ौज खड़ी की थी उसने
वो एक एक करके उन सबको खोता चला गया...

दूसरों से उम्मीद रखना ही उसका सबसे बड़ा गुनाह था
वो इस उम्मीद के बोझ को ढोता चला गया

सब अपने में मगन थे, उसकी हालत से बेपरवाह
वो जाने कब ख़ामोशी में सोता चला गया...

जो होना था वो एक एक कर होता चला गया
वो गुजरे हुए कल पर रोता चला गया...

It’s not just a Book…

2010-01-05T14:47:00.000-08:00

Aroosa Masroor September 5, 2009 at 2:17pm

“ Hello Mr Srivastav, this is Aroosa from Dawn.com Karachi (Pakistan). One of our colleagues and a Senior Journalist Asif Noorani wants your permission to use a comment on your blog - Instablogs - about Shahid Afridi. He is working on a book that is due to be published soon. Can you kindly contact him at (email id) at your earliest? Will appreciate your help in this regard. Thanks.”

I read the mail again as my Facebook inbox isn’t used to such meaningful mails. This one seemed to have too much info and I read it just after having lunch in my office. The drowsiness seemed to disappear as I read the mail again. Mr Srivastava, Aroosa, Dawn, Pakistan, Asif Noorani, Instablogs were the keywords I noticed. Oh! I read the mail again Sr Journalist Mr. Asif Noorani wants my PERMISSION? Was someone kidding with me on Teachers Day? To confirm this I had an email id. But before that I decided to use a tool which has 90% of the answers in the world- Google. I typed Asif Noorani and got this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asif_Noorani which made me realize about Mr Noorani’s prolific personality and within no time I mailed him asking for further update. He mailed me back saying he liked my article which was published on Instablogs and was willing to use it in his soon to be published book. Some of the other major contributors were Zaheer Abbas, Wasim Akram and many more. After seeking the permission of the editor of Instablogs it was all done. I was supposed to be published in a book whose author was a great writer from Pakistan. I told this to my parents, sis and they thought I was kidding (nobody takes me seriously as you all know) unless I forwarded them the emails which had my conversation with Mr. Noorani.

Mr Noorani had promised me that he would courier me a book from Pakistan and since then each and every day I kept calling my masi in Faridabad (her address was the one I had mentioned to Mr Noorani). One day when I was asleep in a cab when I was on my way to office, my cell phone rang as I saw those 3 golden words “Shanno Mausi Calling!”...my body language changed within a second and the driver stared at me as if I jumped out on the DND flyover! “Hello Suyash” she said “Namaste Shanno Mausi” was my reply. Now like every time I did, I didn’t ask her this time if the book had arrived and I waited for her response. “How are you” was her next question, “I am good” was my reply. Short questions were followed by short answers and when I gave up all the hopes of a positive news she said “Ek courier aya hai Pakistan sey…”, “Yesssssssssssssssss! Yessssssssssssss!!” I knew it was the gift from Pakistan! My eyes got wet (as they always do) and the way I screamed woke up the passengers snoring on the back seats. Considering me insane they were soon asleep, the poor driver didn’t have this option. “It’s the book Shanno Mausi, the book from Mr Noorani I told u?”, “Achhaa??? Wahi book hai kya?? Ruko dekhte hain” Saying this she unsealed the book and her voice had changed. “Arey beta 3rd page par he tumhara naam chhapa hai! Wasim Akram, Zaheer Abbas ka bhi naam hai.It’s a big achievement Suyash beta! Naam roshan kar diya tumney!” Rarely I get speechless, but it had to be one of those rare moments.

My hands were shivering when I held the book. It was no less that a Man of the match award for me. I then realized how a batsman feels after scoring a century. Due to the busy schedule in the recent years I wasn’t able to play cricket, so I decided to write down articles based on cricket as by this means I felt connected with the game. No matter the articles were published for free the satisfaction I derived reading those bylines can’t be achieved through money or described in words. Nobody would have ever thought that a writer from Pakistan would someday award me for my love for the game. 'Boom Boom Afridi' reminds me of all those days when I used to play gully cricket with my friends. It reminds me of all those days when I cried when India lost a match or got upset as Tendulkar got out in the nervous nineties. This achievement is dedicated to my parents, my sis who have always encouraged my passion for the game. Thanks to all my buddies who have made cricket so special for me. Thanks to all who understand what cricket means to me. Last and not the least I will always be indebted to Mr Nooraani, for giving my article a memorable space in his wonderful book. ‘Boom- Boom Afridi’ is indeed very special for me. It doesn’t include just one of my articles but it has a journey, has my love for the game since my childhood days. It’s not just a book…

SELF-'MAID' DESTRUCTION

2009-12-09T23:40:00.000-08:00

A long way back when I was in 5th standard, my computer teacher had introduced me to the word Intranet. When workstations are connected within a particular building (school, office) for sharing certain information, the network is called intranet. Now with the better technology there have been certain substitutes for Intranet which are cheap as well. But then nothing is cheap enough for women who have the habit of purchasing a product below its actual cost (as they can’t get it for free) until and unless the shopkeeper is down with tears! For them I guess it was very easy to generate an Intranet for their apartments, colonies which are very easily accessible as well ~ MAIDS! Now stop imagining Kantaben from Kal Ho Na Ho…as there are thousands of them. These maids are smart enough to earn in form of cash, delicious food, clothes just by gossiping with various housewives about various housewives in the best innovative way possible.

“Mrs. Khanna wore that pink sari thrice this month!! Mrs. Dixit had a long fight with her husband today!! Mrs. Sinha is planning to buy a new car. I saw Mrs. Mehta’s daughter roaming around with the boy who lives in flat number 68. One day I also saw her with Mrs. Desai’s son, the one who has a good height I had told u ?” These are statements which might be true but generally they are ‘Maid Made’. A maid without gossips in her kitty would remain jobless no matter how good a cook or a baby sitter she is and a maid who is better in cooking gossips as compared to food will keep earning even if the recession lasts for the next 100 years!

The point to observe is the adjustment and the tone between the housewives and these maids. The maids are well aware of their Market Value and that’s the reason why they never arrive on time and depart before time. During their working hours it’s difficult to differentiate as to who is working for whom. In the absence of these maids, the housewives vomit words full with venom (obviously to their husbands) “Enough is enough! She is late again! Have you noticed her body language? Am I her servant! She takes leaves on her own! She knew that there was more to do today that’s why @$%#$%# is late! Who the hell does she think she is? She so rude all the time! And you…you never even utter a word? Aren’t you supposed to take my side? Are you listening? Ohk! Let her come today! I’ll show you who I am and I will kill that Maharani today!” Husbands have lately understood the proper use of both the ears (entry and exit of words). This art has made them happier for sure.

And there she comes. Silence rules all over the house. The only question that is put to the maid is “Why are you late?” That’s the only time the owner of the house speaks. As then the Intranet is activated and she activates gossips which she has in plenty, beginning from how she abused the other maid who used to work with Mrs. Khanna earlier and then how Mrs. Khanna and Mrs. Singh had a huge fight for ABC-MNO-XYZ reasons and how ill mannered is Mrs. Mehta’s daughter along with all of her affairs (non existing they might be). By the time this conversation gets over housewives and maids would have become best of friends and there is no complain whatsoever. The husbands are used to this everyday so they keep themselves busy in their newspapers (now a days they get them in plenty just to show themselves more involved in some other stuff) or watching highlight of a match for the hundredth time!

These maids are responsible for care taking, cooking food, cleaning the house and the utensils. But with their superb Intranet abilities they are a disaster for any family. I mean at times the housewives blast out at their husbands just because of some problem that is caused by her maid. Let us see what happens on a ‘No-Maid’ day. No maid means more of work in kitchen for the housewives moreover no ‘Apartment Updates’ for her(this hurts a lot!). More work in the kitchen means she has to do it all alone. Doing it all alone means she has to curse someone for the maid being absent. “I am fed up of her. I will have some other maid as she thinks I can’t get a better one. She considers herself as the queen of all maids! Let her come tomorrow, I’ll show her who she is!” Nobody is listening (as the hubby is a spectator and the children are wise enough to get homeless in such hopeless situations) so now it’s the time for the hubby to listen. “Can you lower down the volume of the television!!!? Am I a dog barking here all the time!? Did you pay the electricity bills? The bulb in the next room isn’t working! Even that is my responsibility na? You allllll (the number of L’s combines her complete family) take me for granted! ”. Huff! It is deadly to imagine what kind of violence will take place if a family has such 7-8 No Maid days in a month!

The housewives need to understand that these maids will get them nothing more that Self MAID Destruction. Now in this article I have described the relation ship between a house wife and her maid. Men rarely come in the picture (where ever they have they are mere spectators). Shiney Ahuja might be an exception. We all knew him as a Self-Maid…errr Self-Made actor. I haven’t seen his maid but this incident ‘maid’ me think for which reasons could a star like him go crazy after his Maid?? The destruction which the housewives face are temporary ones but the Indian Actor will be remembered now for more of his Self-Maid destruction than his natural acting talent throughout his life! Beware of such……Kantaben’s!

MISS YOU MONTY…

2009-09-16T08:40:00.000-07:00

29^th July 2007. It was the worst day of my life. I was attending the funeral of my best friend with whom I had celebrated his birthday some days ago (July 19). I still remembered his level of excitement while he talked about his preparations for Parul’s marriage, Parul who sat next to me like a statue with tearful eyes, having lost her elder brother Monty. Both of us sat there like helpless creatures as the pyre kept burning. I kept looking at his pyre hoping that he would get up all of a sudden, laugh at me and say that it was another prank he played with me. But life was no more fun.

I wiped my tears and looked at my hands. These were the same hands I was holding him with, sitting next to him in the hospital a day before. I could still feel that warmth of our relationship by holding his frozen hands. Our friendship was full of true emotions, careless laughter and humiliating endless arguments. He couldn’t speak a word as his words were hurdled by an oxygen mask. But we never needed words to communicate. I read numerous unspoken words in his eyes, eyes that had tears, pain and fear at the same time, eyes which were eager to capture everything before they slept forever. An image distracted my thoughts, I saw my father standing before me who told me it was the time to leave. I thought if he had ever cried like I did in the last few days, as I never saw him crying. I left the place after having a last look at the pyre; our 18 years old friendship had turned into ashes.

Once I reached home my mom asked me to wash my face after which she could offer me something to eat. I walked towards the wash basin as everybody looked at me like they had never before, specially the kids whom I had always suggested not to cry. I looked at the mirror and found it to be very dirty, as if it had not been cleaned up for ages. People often found it difficult to face the reality I thought. I wiped it with my hands and was amazed to see my own image. My eyes were red as if blood had replaced my tear glands and my face resembled one of the patients I saw in the hospital a day before.

I came back to the dining table where my mom was ready with a plate of food. I thought when was the last time she had fed me by her hands, may be a decade ago. She remained silent as if she exactly knew I was lost in my thoughts. I often thought if there was an award for ‘timing’ all mothers would be very strong contenders for it. The best part of them is that they exactly know when to speak and when not to, as they can easily mould themselves to any situation. Mom knew that Monty wasn’t just a friend of mine but he meant the world to me. She was ready with a handkerchief even before tears left my eyes. She had also not eaten anything since morning. I thought of hugging her but that would have certainly made the situation worse for the kids who surrounded us.

Four year old Sakshu had been looking at me for quite some time now. He was known to be speaking all the time without a break. Thus it was a miracle to see him quiet since morning. As soon as he saw me looking at him he said “Bhai I have finished my milk myself now will you talk to me?” A smile was all I could give him at the moment. I looked back at my mom who by now had wet eyes. She put a bite in my mouth which my throat refused to swallow. I don’t know why but I couldn’t resist it anymore, I had burst into tears. I couldn’t find a better place than my mom’s lap to weep. My crying did spoil the atmosphere as everybody around- mom, all kids, my grandfather, my grandmother, maternal uncle, maternal aunt couldn’t control their tears any more and the atmosphere went horrid as everybody moaned. I realized men do cry, and that too very badly at times. I cried like I had never before till I fell asleep.

There are times in life when one has to question if at all there is an Almighty. I was a part of the same phase. Monty was one of the purest human being one could ever come across. I had never seen him crying in our friendship of 18 years. People kept consoling me “This is a part of life” and I certainly didn’t wish to live if that was what life was about. I keep watching so many individuals who are a threat to mankind living a happy life and a blessing to mankind like Monty had to leave this world for which reason? Can somebody explain me the logic?

There are some wounds which cannot be healed even with the help of best doctors in the world. Monty’s departure was one of them.

‘Thousand prayers couldn’t bring him back

I know as… I have tried

Nor could a million tears

I know as …I have cried’

तन्हा सफर

2009-09-14T08:25:00.000-07:00

बहुत दिन हो गए शायद ख़ुद को भूल चुका हूँ मैं
एक बार आइना तो लाकर दिखाता कोई

वीरान पड़ी ज़िन्दगी इक खँडहर सी गूजती है
दो चार पल खुशी के कहीं से ले आता कोई

भावनाएं तो सबके मन में बसा करती हैं
मुझे भी कभी हंसाता या रुलाता कोई

जानता हूँ ज़िन्दगी भर का साथी शायद ही मिले
पर दो पल बिना छल के साथ मेरे बिताता कोई

मैने कब कहा की मैं हमेशा सही हूँ
पर कहाँ हूँ ग़लत ये भी तो बतलाता कोई

बारिश में खेलते बच्चों को देख अक्सर दिल ये करता है
मेरे साथ भी कागज़ की कश्ती तो बनाता कोई।

करवट बदलते रिश्ते

2009-09-13T10:43:00.000-07:00

ना यकीन मानोगे मेरी बात का इक बार में
रिश्ते भी बिकने लगे हैं आज के बाज़ार में

खोखले होते रिश्तों का तब मुझे पता चला
“Make Friends” मैने पढ़ा जब एक इश्तहार

मेरी तन्हाई मुझे दोस्त सी लगने लगी

अपनों से मिलने को जब लगना पड़ा कतार में

अपनों ने ही छलनी किया है मेरे गुरूर को

ना दिया ऐसा ज़ख्म जो आज तक तलवार ने

अब खुदा का खौफ तक न रहा उन मुल्क को
ढूढते हैं लाभ हित जो दोस्ती और प्यार में

ये खबर भी जल्द छपेगी रोज़ के अखबार में
रिश्ते रह गए हैं पीछे वक़्त की रफ़्तार में।

One Wild Trip...

2009-09-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

You may hardly come across a guy who would probably refuse to any opportunity of being alone with four girls. But my situation was a bit different. I was in the middle of an unknown jungle in Auroville, Pondicherry, trying to figure out where 'Ganesh Bakery' was, at around 7 pm, without a torch! I could hear murmurs of protest all the time from Shraddha, Smriti, Rini and Pragati.

They would walk four steps then wait, make faces, curse and then walk again. Every now and then, Smriti and Shraddha would scream as if they saw a monster. If I was given an option either to walk with these girls or the wild bears, I would have chosen the latter.

"Yaar can we walk a bit faster? Only 25 per cent of my cell phones battery is left," said Pragati, whose mobile was the only source of our light in that dark and dense jungle. Smriti reacted saying, "25 per cent,? And we haven't reached yet. Will we be able to return? Should we return just now?" The girls looked at each other and then at me for a decision. "Come on guys, don’t be negative. Main hun na!" I managed to say, trying to sound valiant.

Suddenly, I got a mighty blow. It was a blow from Shraddha. The others mocked in unison.

When some motorbikes started getting a little closer towards the girls, they began to bunch closer to each other, holding each other firmly while making an attempt to hide behind me (as if I was an eight feet monster or something). The bike riders commented in some local dialect and whistled past. The girls stood breathless. I somehow controlled my laughter. They feared they were robbers who would return apart from having numerous questions. I obviously I didn't answer.

"It’s enough. I can't walk any more,"...wailed Pragati and the girls nodded in unison.

“Yaar I guess we have almost reached, it’s just about walking for another five more minutes,” I said helplessly.

"And if, we don't find Ganesh Bakery in five minutes we'll throw you deep into this jungle," warned Rini whom I thought was the only non-violent girl in the group.

Done. Having said this, I accelerated the pace of my steps. So did the girls. I have lost many bets in my life but neither have I had any bet in a jungle before. Luckily, approximately after walking for some two to three minutes we saw 'Ganesh BakeriI' in bold letters.

There was a huge sigh of relief. I ran and ordered a bottle of Dew. It tasted good like never before.

“Is this the right place for a shop? Don’t you get scared here? Do you have any idea how much scared we were? You know we all have been walking for the past one hour….” The barrage of questions rained on the poor shopkeeper….

I was just relieved to see that the girls found someone else to answer their questions.