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Showing posts from 2016

Dusk at Kanakapura

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                                                               It's the time of dusk, Trees sway in the wind, Rustling in the breeze , In the hues of the setting sun. Perched on a hillock, Bright lights illuminating the structure, A temple loudspeaker blares out Invocations to Ayyappa. These are the primordial ridges Where Parvati might have lent her divine grace, These hills are where Many a tale of love and heartbreak would have been played. A herd of cattle Make their way back home, Bells tingling And animating the silent atmosphere. What grace is there Among nature's bountyful trails, In this crisp, silent air And the darkening dusk. I see him standing On a hillock close to me, Trident in hand, matted hair, Eyes closed in contemplation. In this serene environment of Kanakapura, I see him, I see Shiva Guiding me towards eternity. (Written at Kanakapura,near Bangalore, 1st Dec,2016)

Jahanpanah, tusi great ho

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Here's my take on demonetisation (( could not fill petrol, could not buy essentials, my friend said he didn't have enough money to go to the public toilet (Rs.10 only)). Sitting at home with grand Rs. 2000/- notes (much like the toy ones we used to play with in childhood) and no means to spend. My colleague asked the cafetaria waiter yesterday to give Chai ( tea ) for Rs.500- must be the most expensive tea ever (Taj Group included). Surviving on credit. At least I am lucky I did not have a heart attack or tution fees to pay. Others have not been so lucky. Jai Modiji !! Jahanpanah, tusi great ho, hamara tofaa kabul karo :)

The lights of Diwali

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The  lights  of Diwali- signify  the  burning of evil , ignorance, hatred, envy, false  ego  and  darkness,  and  lifting  of  the  human  spirit.

AAP ki nazaron ne samjhaa

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AAP ki nazaron ne samjhaa ( Imaginary dialogues which start with romance between Nawaz Sharief and Arvind Kejriwal ) Nawaz , " AAP ki nazaron ne samjhaa pyaar ke kaabil mujhe, AAP ki manzil hoon main, meri manzil AAP hai. " Kejri , " Choop raho re idiot, Modi uncle sun lenge to hum dono ko SHAAP de denge. " Modi , " Abbe 2 idiots, dono premiko ko peetkar borderpaar BAAP ke pass bhej doonga. " OP Chautala tau of Haryana from Tihar Jail," Arre Modi, Baap nahi, mere KHAAP ke paas bhej re, peetke ekdum JHAAP kar denge. Waise bhi cross border and inter religion romance hai , not allowed in and around Haryana, land of honour. " Ending dialogue from Rahulbaba, " Re Tau, tani chup raho . Bhaisaab, Khaap nahi, dono ko Congress Working Committee( CWC) mein mere aur mummy ke under kar do, sara PAAP hi khatam ho jayeega ( kuch pharak nahi painda, CWC bhi ek khaap hi hai) " End result : Modiji stil

Life is NOT a race

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I recently   saw   an ad   for   Aakash   Institure   in Ranchi. Yes, the   very   same   cram classes   which mass produce Engineering   &   Medicine entrance   aspirants   year   after   year.  It reminded me of   “3 Idiots”, where   students   are   forced   to lead   a rat   race.   And so   I saw   the   movie once again today. The   issue of whether a   guy wants   to be an Engineer   is sealed   by his   overambitious   Dad   at   birth (   “Farhan Quereshi, Engineer”)   Extrapolate   this to   many   Indian parents who insisit   their   chilren become   “Engineersaab” , “Doctor saab”. At times, against   their   wishes   and natural   capabilities. The moot   question   is not   whether Engineering   or medicine   are great   professions ( and   there   are many   good alternatives, no   matter how the elders argue   otherwise) . The question is of extrapolating   parents’ ambitions   onto   childfrens’ lives. The key   word   is”Against   t

The eagle strikes.. and strikes hard

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Decades of withering. Decades of " sochenge, dekhenge." Decades of inaction. We grew up in an age when the Punjab terrorist problem was taken for granted, the Kashmir problem flared up and the weakness of successive governments became painfully evident. And then, in later years, terrorist strikes in Delhi, 2008. Mumbai attacks, 2008. Hyderabad blasts, 2013. Sick. Nauseating. All we could do was look in anger, while the usual "protests " by our government in International fora,went on. I remember standing at the Gateway of India in 2011 and shivering at the audacity of foreign terrorists to cross over and strike at will. It never abated. Every year, a humiliating strike would take place. Pampore. Gurdaspur. Pathankot. Our soldiers suffered. Our nation suffered. Our image as a self- respecting nation suffered. Uri was the final flash point. The collective anger of a nation spilled over. And finally, we have a government that walks the ta

Once upon a time, in Pune

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               (Originally written in Sept 2016; edited in Aug 2017) As I grew up in life, I learnt that good friends are hard to come by. And good friends at a later stage of life, very hard if not  impossible. Well, guess  what? I was proved wrong  in Pune. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon of November, 2011 . I had found out the coordinates of this book reading club from the social meeting site Meet Up, coordinated by  Rajesh Naidu and Palki Mawar . And so, with some trepidation , I stumbled into Costa Cafe, on F.C . Road, arguably the most chic location of Pune, to attend the P une Book Readers' Club meeting. They seemed formidable, from the range of activities and the books covered. Rajesh looked like an imposing chap, the body building kind.I was kind of hesitant, but then,desperately looking for a cultural outlet in Pune, I stepped in. The  beginning  of the  journey- " Sharing your work"-  Nov 25th, 2011, Costa Cafe At the head of th