My King of Kings

Speaking of [Prime Ministers], there are a host of candidates to choose from.  There is the prince Rahul Gandhi, theres also the new prince Akhilesh Yadav and then there is the Old man of Bengal, Pranab Mukherjee.  I tend to believe that voting is a very compulsive exercise in India, we can vote based on the ideologies but we hardly do, as a matter of fact, the educated well to-do Indian is not too interested in voting, as they tend to believe that whatever the outcome it will not affect them.  After all, if one has a big pocket, then there is the Diesel Generator for the power cuts, and submersible pump for the water shortage.  If there is a security issue then hire some personal security guards, so much so, when the swine flu epidemic hit us, there was a segment of the population that horded the medicine not waiting for a solution from National Health Service.

I wonder, if it does make more sense to run a parallel government wherein we pay taxes to the people who actually will provide us electricity, water and security.  For instance, let these well to do personalities who have no fear of the government, start out-sourcing their services to other people in their region.  We would then find a section in the local yellow pages for the A-Governance or Alternate Governance.  The theme could go as follows :


                                     Classified Avertisement
                                     Clients sought by A-Governance firm
                                      for internal governance
                                      available for outsourcing

So how would A-Governance be defined -  it is an outrising of a serious and urgent need to bring responsibility to governance.  Internally and externally, there has to be a set of well defined objectives.  If any governance functions within those objectives it is then accepted by the citizens or clients.  On the contrary, the current governance in the country is [unacceptable] and therefore like mobile number portability, that is the ability to shift your mobile service provider without changing your number, a citizen must have a choice of shiting his or her governance model without changing their existing address.

Government today has become unlawful and immoral in its action.  With five years required for any government to go out, a interim arrangement of A-Governance would step in to solve the issue.  So what are the premises of A-Governance, below appears a 10 point charter :

1. A rational legal framework.
2. Sound internal Governance.
3. [Total Autonomy].
4. Governance Portability clause.
5. The constitution of a board, responsible to public interest.
6. Internally [responsible] to its citizens and externally function within the framework of the erstwhile existing elected O-government 'read Old Government.
7.  A-Governance to imbibe its values and morals within itself as also to its citizens.
8.  Also introduce common moral standards, supervise their implementation, and serve as an important force to develop industry culture and self-discipline.
9. Donors, beneficiaries, collaborators, media, the general public, independent auditors and the government all need to be involved in the management of A-Governance.
10.  Finally, it is necessary to set up a mechanism of extensive participation of citizens.

Why must we restrict ourself to a form of government that doesn't serve our purpose, that is self centric and unresponsive.  Citizens have a right to Alternate-Governance if the existing tenets fail to deliver what is required.
Any form of Monopoly breeds corruption, the [Gods] of the Land must be [crazy].

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Have No Fear, I am Here

The idea of death appeals to me, there are a million of these folks who think that death should be avoided, however it is the inevitable truth.  The Truth, that neither is denied nor can be taken for granted.  When it comes, the human mind will not know and yet in the same vein it cannot be ignored.  I have been so in awe of this life I have been living, that its hard for me to understand why people cry and why they try and commit suicide.  Till the very thought hit me.  Death doesn't like to be cheated.  If I tried to kill myself once before, I will try it again and again and again.  Till I succeed.  The thoughts of life going away from my body doesn't scare me as much as the thought and pain of having to try to get away from it multiple times to reach the final conclusions of death.  This is where I am headed today, but give it to me in one shot.  It is apocalyptic that success 'read life runs away from us as much as failure if we chase it.

Throw another thought at you, why do I feel so proud of having tried to get closer to death.  Is it because I pride myself in having done what very few people would have done.  People worship life, at least most I know, and very few like me seek death.  Is that what makes me proud ? Or is it the thought of how strong I came out of it, knowing that God wanted me to live and knowing that we normally find what we seek.  I truly believe that it is important to feel strong even if your aren't strong.  When I mean strength I probably speak of mental strength, as also physical.  Its a tough world we live in, the guy who has nothing to lose will drop by a sinker to your house, and you who has everything to lose, lock the doors and windows, call the cops and warn your family not to step out.  Strength comes from the feeling of "nothing to lose".  I am having a hard time defining where this post is going, all my set of beliefs will probably come out into a compact brief readout.

Here's what a "Nothing to Lose" is, somebody who has been abandoned by his own, with no finances, just a gut feel, guided by the thought of survival, somebody unwilling to part with their life even at the cost of taking yours.  I have been there and seen what it feels to have "Nothing to Lose", killed pigeons for food, hit people when they least expected both physically and their psyche.  I have seen people cringe at the thought of facing me.  Have tortured people, happy people, with everything to lose into accepting what I wanted from them, because I was stronger than they ever will be.  I had the will of my soul behind me, and they had only their fears.  Part of the person I am today, stems from the times I experience absolute abyss with my finances.  God blessed with a strong body, and during these times, I toned it into a stronger piece of machine, and trained my mind into conjuring up machiavellian schemes, including the thoughts of taking somebody else's life.  
"They shall pay for it, Gods must have been crazy to have overlooked my birth"
  

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Naam - the Source of all Healing

My two babies are growing up so well.  Like darlings infact.  It was just yesterday that I was feeding them cerelac.  And today they ordered their first meal from Mcdonalds.  Life has changed in myriad of ways, some I understand..  Mostly, I can see the first step and not the whole staircase, seems like only yesterday that I was carrying my older baby down the staircase when I slipped.  My world had almost come crashing down, what if I had lost him.  My mental agony at the thought is stronger than the physical pain of the wound I had suffered.  All is well, and yet the thought tortures me even today. what if .....  ?  Bad memories are like scars, they scald and singe the brain everytime we go back to them.  The masochist would take pleasure in it and revel in the pain and I do understand that bad memories need to be revisited to sort out the mistakes of our past or we might repeat them.  However, all of us especially the re-borns have a protective shield around them.  Its like they have an angel who protects them, and watches over them.  I have had angels watching over me too.  Its like somebody wants me to live, isn't that strange, I would like to die but somebody even today, and I am old enough to choose death, doesn't want me to go.  What is it that is holding me back in this world is uncanny, I serve no purpose here and yet this force refuses to let me go.  Its like two hearts living in the same body.  One wants to go and the other says I will not let you go.

I have been involved in some gruesome accidents myself, some pretty nasty, like the one I had with my wife back in 1997, I was driving and the car skidded out of control on the Gurgaon MG road.  We were on our way back from gurgaon, and there had been just a speck of oil on the road.  I wasn't speeding and those days seat belts weren't the norm either in India.  Can you imagine our condition inside a Maruti Suzuki 800, the indian equivalent of a mini, this small thing can take a bang, however it ain't easy when it overturns and both the people inside are tossed around. Suffice to say that we survived with minor bruises and so did the car.  So much so, that people who saw the accident were amazed at how we had survived.  Well wishers and well meaning people are there to watch the show, impotent to do anything when the tragedy happens.  But it is the fear of HIM that moves the earth, rivers, clouds, the sun and moon and to enact a tragedy is but a small feat for him.  Like I said in a previous post of mine the messenger of death hover all around us, it is but his word that keeps them away.

Then there was this other home accident about 2 years back, which should have crippled me, as I fell down the stairs, all of nearly 10 steps cemented and tiled, badly injuring my ligament tissue.  Worst scenario was that there was no one at home, folks were in Australia enjoying a holiday.  Survived it too, it doesn't take long to understand the ways of the lord.  I had friends who helped out then, some by talking and comforting, their genuine concern was enough to spark a mental revival, and others by being there for the hospital ride.  Suffice to say that it was such a bad knock that it took 3 months to heal and even after two years of that accident, I still feel the pain occassionally.  I serve no purpose here, my friend, unless it is to help somebody out.
Please Use me, my friend, I am here for you, whoever you are and wherever you are.

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Leader of the band

When I first saw him he was prancing around the bushes and trees with pretty young things.  He was tall, slim and had the school boy kind of looks.  Locks that fell over his eyes, the woman found him hilarious because he just couldn't talk.  Yet he tried every rope in the book to hook up with some girl or the other.  There was pretense which was justified under the guise of the famous old saying - Everything is fair in love and war. Pretty soon when the time came, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work, people just loved him.  As he grew older he stopped worrying about his looks and let his mouth do the talking.  Never have I seen another wearing ill fitting clothes charm the wallet off the client.  The gift of the gab is the most important thing, and I do believe he had it.  I adored him, saw him as my mentor, there were people who saw this and wanted to stop him from noticing me.  Jealousy raised its head in every meeting,  afterall, who would want him to take me as a protege when he had an entourage of followers who strongly guarded their turf. 

It so happened, that in 1998, I began to work under him and slowly got used to his ways and his thought patterns of life.  I came from a background of enterpreneurs, and he from a family of working professionals.  I had this straight backbone which refused to bend even in front of my boss.  Any other person would have told me shape up my act, but not him, he pampered and cajoled me into working on themes that I loved and liked.  I had before joining him done a small unsuccessful stint as an entrepreneur and with that kind of baggage behind me, it was hard to let go of my pride.  I lied in the interview about my success rate as an enterpreneur and was still hired by him.  "We need this guy", was the common refrain about me, was it my looks or did they just need somebody to work independently like an entrepreneur in the confines of a corporate world.  Maybe the HR department sympathized with me and were trying to help.  And he certainly was trying to help, I couldn't see that then, as I can see now oh so clearly. 

E-learning is a hard nut to crack and requires a lot of effort in terms of content development.  Technology and delivery engines you will get dime a dozen, but the content that will make people understand and sit up and think about whats been taught is very difficult.  I presume, most people think of E-learning as a waste of time, it doesn't work, classroom is much better.  The thing is, content is the king, and he was the emperor of content.  Understanding the subtleties of text, how it rolled on the screen, intuitiveness, design and structure of the interface, planning the delivery mechanism and rolling out specs to the developers.  He knew it all and in all brainstorming sessions we would prick his mind left right and centre to figure out how a particular module would look and read out the best.  It was just a matter of triggering the right button to get the appropriate response from him.  For people with very little time, he was god sent.

And then he promoted me, just before he left the organization.  I was sad to know, the day he said he was leaving the organization, said something about finding his own path.  The sorrow I felt was inexpressive and I didn't tell him that I would miss him.  Maybe I should have, atleast there would have been no regrets.  But then this blog post is a salute him.  May he shine and do the very best in life in whatever endeavour he chooses.
K.K, all the best, all the best, yes you are the best.

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Dilli Meri Jaan

I just love Delhi, even though I wasn't born here, I have spent the whole of my childhood here eating Mangoes under the giant shade bearing trees of the summer season and hiding under thick duvets to keep away the cold in the chill season.  Unfortunately, central heating never figured in the scheme of things in India so winters are pretty severe if you don't have the comfort of a razai.  When I was a  kid there were so many things one could to do here, from reading books at central government libraries to playing cricket in the fields that dot the urban landscape.  We just love our cricket here.  I grew up playing cricket and eating butter chicken, and drinking jaljeera or banta soda. Banta soda had a queer device for a cork, there was like a marble embedded in the bottle so to let the fizz out or drink it one had to pop the marble into the crevice at the top of the bottle.  All kinds of funny devices and makeshift arrangements lined our life.  Get up the in the morning and head to school to study and ofcourse to play cricket.  School had plenty of open spaces and lots and lots of turf to play.  But in the morning we played what was called "hand cricket" with one tip catch - OUT.  Hand cricket utilized a rubber ball and makeshift stumps in the form of errected stone slab.  Team size ranged from anywhere between five to the conventional eleven.  Come to think of it, I enjoyed handcricket so much that I was a star material slamming balls with my hand to all corners of the smaller fields.  Come afternoon we were ready for some real-life cricket in the large playing fields.  I was a star at this too, come to think of it, I just loved playing cricket, hitting the ball long over the boundaries for sixers and bowling those in-cutting seamers and banana out-swingers.  As a matter of fact captained my school team in the final year at school.  As afternoon would approach, we would head home in our buses, come back, sleep a bit and again off to the field in the blazing sun to play - CRICKET.  As I grew older I started exploring Delhi.  Not only the bylanes of my colony and adjoing areas but far flung catchments of Chandni Chowk and Karol Bagh, as also smelling the croisants of the high and mighty at The Oberois.  Ghungroos for the night and hopping to Sunny Singhs remixes, memories that are hard to die down.  Remember "The Boss" Springsteen came to Delhi and I went to the concert and loved it.  Bruce "the boss" Springsteen was the best thing that came to town.  It changed the whole landscape, from bars and drinking holes to discotheques start popping up everywhere.  And I remember I was in college when I saw Sushmita Sen, yes the same Miss Universe who wowed the world, walk out of Ghungroos and as she passed me she happened to look at me.  It was one of those casual glances but I was rooted.  "there is something about mary .. hmmm"

Though Chor Bizzare, based at Delhi Gate, Asaf Ali Road ,is a recent phenomenon, it is run by the same folks who run Indian Habitat Centre.  I remember visiting IHC for the first time when I was in college, those were heady days, hang around the parking, eat at American Diners, kingfishers and cocktails to uplift the spirit and as night descended or rather as the morning sun was about to come up head to National School of Drama for Chai and sutta.  It was awesome, even interacted with Naseeruddin Shah once at the chaiwallas shack.  Then there was the UPSC chaatwala near India Gate if you wanted something spicier and tangier in the evening before we hit IHC.  If you didn't like the spice, you could always head to the paranthawali gali in Chandni Chowk, close to the present Metro Station.  Some sumptious paranthas or as the phirangs would call it, Indian pancakes.  So what was so special about Parantha Walli Gali, well there are some 20 shops all serving and making paranthas.  It is the way that they make that they make paranthas that is unique, the mawa parantha and papad parantha served along with seethaful subzi is just awesome.

Over a period of time I have tended to enjoy Haldiram as well.  The one in Connaught Place serves good Indian food.  They have even managed to set up a pasta counter, thought the raj kachori is simply the best.  If you wanna have channa bhaturas then the best place to go to is Sweets Corner, Sundar Nagar. These guys really fluff up their bhaturas and the channa brings the Old world charm to the taste buds.  For South Indian I have always enjoyed Andhra Bhawan, the masala prawns and fried fish, ummmmmmm, can smell it even as I write.  The thali is a traditional Andhra dish out with rice, rasam, sambhar, sabjees and the works but its the side dishes that turn the meal wholesome.  By the fried mutton here is a must try.  Iqbal at Nizammudin Dargah is pretty good for kakori kebabs too.
And to top it all the coffee, forget the CCDs and Barista, go to the United Coffee Home in connaught place, man, the smell of freshly brewed coffee will have your nostrils up in ecstasy.  Its been a heady life here and I have loved every single minute here.
Yeh Dilli Meri Jaan, tabhi toh mera bharat mahan.

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The Cult Figure

I have always believed that my emotional independence comes from my lack of fear of loneliness.  I understand that is a huge thing to say, for instance I can go for drives all by myself, go to coffee shops and read books or work on my laptop on my own, even eat and drink without any company.  I am perfectly content in my way of life right now.  There have been times when I have not needed to speak to my relatives or close ones for months.  Haven't spoken to my parents in days now, even though we stay in the same house.  I am not sure they understand this, but I have my memories that I will deal with in my own ways.  Maybe today is good day to start a conversation with them, we shall after all talk about Mango Singh and the weather it takes to make him crisp and brave hearted.  My moms uncles were fruit sellers, did I ever mention that.  As a matter fact that is very sardar like, to do your own business and leave the thoughts of slavery of petty minded bosses behind.  Even though I have worked for someone all my life, I understand this thought of retaining ones freedom as the most important thought process in my psyche.  We are free birds, love to roam the sky, so my moms uncles opened up their own business.  It ran so well, that even their pets started having fruits at breakfast and as evening fillers.  And, then something changed it.  It was painful when uncle died, all of sudden there was nothing in Rani aunties family.  All the energy, the longing and desires went from the family.  All that remained was some dull memories of those moments of joy and laughter and paranthas with white butter for breakfast.  God !! how it pained me to see their sorrow.  If only I could comfort this strong Punjabi family with my words.  There were only tears I had and maybe they wanted more from me.  I had always believed that I didn't belong with these people, rural upbringing and strong, almost head strong clan.

Uncle was a cult figure, landed in India after the partition in 1947, built a business out of nothing but a few rupees.  So what do you do when you got to feed your family and got nothing at the end of they day.  You plant a garden of fruits, so if they don't sell, you eat them for dinner.  Not such a bad idea after all, no inventory to keep and all profits to reap at the end of the day.  Uncle till he died and it was in his late 80's was eating four paranthas cooked in pure ghee for breakfast.  Some say that he actually died because the docs couldn't believe anybody could live with the kind of oily diet he had.  But then rustic lifestyles had lots of exercise and manual labour built into them, so whatever was eaten got burnt in the rigours of labour.  Uncle was a wiry old man, not too large built but very wiry, like a coil ready to spring.  This fruit I call the "labour leechi" different from the "Meena Leechi", I mentioned in my previous post which is originally grown in Bihar, this particular one is dished out from the heartlands of North India.  Labour Leechi has a very distinct, loud flavour, juicy like the just rewards of hardwork.  Wasn't it Mahatma Gandhi who said that every Indian should do a little bit of manual labour everyday, well he was right, manual labour uplifts the spirit and yet grounds you to realities.  A truly emotionally independent thought.  I don't want to fly a Boeing 787, just give me bi-plane under the hovering clouds.
Anonymous, I am better, fly me just under the radar.

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Bravery and Cowardice

There are some fruits in my garden that defy logic.  There is the Baniya Banana, now this one is famous, because it gives you  a slippery tongue plus is a great stomach leveller, if had in moderation.  When I used to drink, there were some great cocktails that were made of it.  There was the Avalanche and then even better was the Beach Blonde.  Avalanche contained Green Mark Vodka to proportion and half a banana.  Though I enjoyed it for a while it made me wonder wasn't this a cowardly drink, I mean the Baniya Banana stands on a very strong tree with wide leaves but when it comes the fruit itself it is so gooey, like its spineless.  I prefer my fruits to be much more crisper and with a texture that defines itself like a statement.  The only statement the banana makes is "touch me not" because I am fragile. 

Bravery, the kinds that Lieutenant General J.S. Aurora typified in the Indo-Pak war of  1971 is the stuff historians talk about till today.  He was supposed to be the logistics man behind the ground forces in the war of 1971.  This man was straight forward, reliable and with a no  nonsense attitude that instilled faith in his peers and troops.  People say that, bravery had nothing to do with Jagjit Singh Aurora.  He was just the logistics man, and I say my friend, every action of his had bearing on the defeat that the Indian Army eventually inflicted on their enemy.  And when I say this man was peerless, I mean he really was a pear of the Indian Army.  Crisp in his communication, strong, capable. lion hearted and in many ways a ladies man, somebody emotionally capable to handle the as a matter of fact as easily as the subtleties of a man-woman relationship.  When he died in 2005, here is what the bangladeshi brigade of that time said for him “Aurora will be remembered in the history of Bangladesh for his contribution during our war of liberation in 1971, when he led the allied forces.”

So what distinguised the General from, say, a modern day Rahul Gandhi or even a patriach like Narsimha Rao was his attachment to the cause and the sincerity with which he played his role.  It is not what we want to be but the truth we say to each other that defines who we become.  Role plays are rampant nowadays, everybody has an idea of what they want to be, and where they want to be, the money they want to make and the dates they want to be on, even the kind of woman or man they want to bed.  Ever thought of the different roles we play to reach our objective.  The general was free of any such incumbents, he might have come from a small background but his mind knew what he wanted to do and that realisation causes my mind to break into orgasmic ecstacy.  In all his tenure in East Pakistan, never once the army could have been accused of sexual misconduct, something I can't say about the troops posted in Kashmir now.  This was a reflection of the Generals own person set of morals and values, his irrefutable belief in who he was, and that my friend, is easy to forget in todays world.  Indeed a brave man

But then I find ideals in the most simplest of thing, remember Brownie; remember my Garden of fruits, and in it, lies another variety the gem of gem and that is the "Kiwi Sharma" fruit.  Strong, silent and a believer of faith 'read God.. oops Goddess.  Now nobody prefers to be an atheist nowadays, its just not their style, an attitude nowadays demands that you have a heavenly body on your CV, and so even fruits have their gods, for example, the "Kiwi Sharma" looks up to the "Madagascar Mathur" as the Goddess to worship.  Why goddess then, why not a God ? Do heavenly creatures have their sex marked out too ?  Well probably, because, the only one that Kiwi can hear advice from is a woman and so strong is his preferences that he will talk only to a woman, even if that means being godless if there were no sex in Gods.  If he met the male equivalent of the same goddess, say Mango Singh,  he would try and kill Mango, even if it meant being clubbed with Satan. 

So why do men like talking to only women, is it because they are less dominating or because men have only sex on their mind.  Every opportunity to talk is an opportunity to slip one in and try and score.  The minds of most pious of saints have been known to be corrupted with improprietary of a Menaka.  Do you realise how wrong are the vedic  implications of the statement "improprietary of Maneka", and this, if lost to anyone I will reinforce.  It falsely depicts that Maneka was the sinner, however she was only doing her job.  All men are the same my friend, they will try and slip one in when you least expect it and blame it all on you.  Ponder over what I say my friend while I quietly slip into the bar and sip my Admiral Perry.
Truly the "pear"less Aurora.

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Hail the new Prime Minister

Dogs are such a source of positive energy.  They radiate it because they understand what humans want.  They are here to live with them not against them.  Brownie adopted me, maybe because he needed a human friend.  He waits for me, looks up to me even follows me into the house much to my wife's chagrin.  Surprisingly, he listens to her, sits when she tells him to, eat when told to.  And ofcourse I am his buddy so he doesn't give much heed to me, but wants to play with me, bite me and run with me.  Anita keeps complaining either you get some shots or get him vaccinated but I am still thinking, if I get the shots he could still bite someone else and infect them.  So better if he gets vaccinated.  Maybe next weekend I will take him to the vet.

Brownie has these loving eyes but he sure as hell can bite.  All the creatures, both canine and human tread carefully around him.  I once saw him getting chased by another stronger dog and he handled it pretty well, diverted the stronger dogs attention and then scooted back and tried to launch an attack from behind enemy lines.  I guess I get so involved with animals that I think of them as thinking four legged Confucius.  For me to watch them in action is the most profound experience with the logic of nature.  They are pure unbridled energy and live for the moment in passion or hatred.  It takes little to incite that in them.

Speaking of Confucius, wasn't it him that suggested that "when rape is inevitable sit back and enjoy it".  I guess that is a typical male chauvinist comment.  He obviously never experienced rape and so was not in a position to comment on it. If on the other hand he was inferring to rape as a down state of the mind, even then his comments were way out of line.  What person would link rape with say the plundering of a civilization.  It is a sick and dastardly conclusion.  When the Greek Civilization was on its decline I never heard Aristotle proclaim, we are being raped sit back and enjoy it.  They fought tooth and nail against their enemy or whoever they perceived their enemy was.  I am sure Indira Gandhi would shudder at the thought of saying "I raped Pakistan" because then by the same logic "Nehru would have been raped by the Chinese".  Therefore that logic was all warped up in male chauvinism. 

However a thought does come to mind that we did give away land too easily to the Chinese, never fired a shot in the valleys.  No wonder they still shout out to us as the victim, scaring us, taunting us and have us scampering for cover.  It is like we are the sheep and they are wolves in every encountered.  What a precedence Nehru set with the Hindu-Chinni bhai bhai statement.  One brother stabs the other in the back and the other justs rolls over and dies.  They say Nehru died because of the Chinese betrayal, I say it was his time to die and thats why he went.  Interestingly some people believe it was his legacy that had a more profound affect on the Indian psyche than Mahatma Gandhi's tryst with non-violence.

We are but mere animals of our past, deemed to repeat our previous mistakes if we haven't sorted our past.  But Brownie never makes a mistake, as he diverts the enemies attention and then launches a rear guard action.  Hail the new king, hail the new emperor.
Nominate Brownie for PM.

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The Importance of being

Stay a bit Cause,
it hurts to let you go
Stay a bit Cause,
there is so much to say
A million stars shine today,
To show you the path to me.

Often heard refrains between lovers.  When time is of no essence, they need only time together to guide them to each other, to spend time with each other.  The secrets shared between them are enough bonding to define the relationship.  But those are lovers, my friends and we share something different.  We share the bond of importance.  You are important to me and so I talk to you, its not that I can't let go of you.  If there comes a time that we have to part then so be it, my friend, for I shall wait for you by the beach where we hid our treasure.  Our friendship goes back to the days of childhood when I knew you as a young sprite of your parents, who would run off at the drop of the pin.  The kachoris and naan khattayis were so synonymous with you that even your friends used call you their "baker girl".  So, baker girl, do you understand what we share.

By the way, my mangoes, lichees and green apples are doing great and I am thinking of growing a garden.  Do you suppose you would deem to be a part of my garden, maybe as a humble chilly or shall we say bell pepper maybe.  Wonder whoever thought mangoes and bell pepper could grow in the same garden.  Mango trees are those shade bearing trees and bell pepper grows on the delicate branches.  Actually why not, it would make a very nice combination, wouldn't you say ?  Red, green and yellow is such a nice combination.  I always wear socks of those colors with white shoes.  Can i borrow your bell pepper for today please, its got the right shade of reds in it.  The red from my tree has faded with each wash, maybe I will try your garden today.  "Bell pepper sharing", wonder what all the computer networkers would think of that.  Sounds like a resource sharing concept they have never heard of before.  So tell me, as Ankit would ask me, is "bell pepper" a device or a protocol.  How do I study the alerts raised by a "bell pepper".  Well my dear man, didn't Michael Dell tell you about fertilising your computers.
Hark ...Did you see that lil butterfly in my garden ?

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The Fruit Seller

There is one particular occupation that I relate to, and that might infact be my alternate occupation as well - The Fruit Seller.  I love fruit in all its different hues and shades, flavours and tastes.  Imagine a world where everyone is a kind of fruit, for example, you might be the pear fruit, I might be the mango another might be the melon.  All of us would have names like "Mango Singh" or "Melon Mehta" or even "Gauri Grape" or say "Meena Leechi". And whenever anyone needed someone, we would just go to the fruit seller and pick up the appropriate fruit.  So if you wanted Mandy, you would hail out to the fruit seller pointing to the mango, "iska kya daam" 'read how much does it cost ?  He would then look at you and gauge your anticipation and eagerness to buy the fruit and say, "sir, the small mango is the sour variety, and will cost you Rs 50 a kilo, that larger mango is very sweet, sir, and could go upto Rs 75 a kilo.  Now depending on whether you wanted a sweet Mandy or sour one, you would shell out the sum to the fruit seller who would, with a twinkle in his eyes, hand you over a kilo of sweet Mandy to you.  Ofcourse, he would appreciate you even further as a smart buyer if you supposedly bought sour Mandy at Rs 50 a kilo and waited for a couple of days for it to turn sweet.  That way, my friend, you would paid less for the same Mango.

Fruits nonetheless have turned very expensive, a kilo of Leechi costs nothing less than Rs 100 a kilo.  Fruit sellers have a tough time in the summers where the shelf life is very low and stocking fruit is unadvisable.  Harbhajan Singh, the wholeseller in Azadpur Mandi was recommended to me by a good friend of mine.  This fit and trim old Sardarji was known for his vitriolic temper with which he lashed out at fellow stall owners in the mandi 'read bazaar.  Has the price of each fruit at his fingertips and runs a clean shop.  His range spans coconuts from Kerala to apples from Kashmir and everything that comes in the realms of these two diverse locations which is virtually the whole of India.  His customers include people from different nodal bazaars including the one at Okhla.  Rates are phenomenal and the fruit, just yummm.  I spoke to Harbhajan Singhji about getting him coconuts from Karnataka and he, the big hearted man that he his, had only one answer "wahe guruji ki meher ho toh, sab kuch hoga". 
God willing, everything will happen.

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The Pogroms of Happiness

Only when you have money will I be you. 
Only if you are successful will I hang around with you,
then and then only if you are me will I talk to you. 

I have heard this all my life and totally understand the statements, afterall the statements are the trappings of a modern materialistic life.  Its easy to understand what people want from you if you are the rich and famous, if you aren't well there's only blissful ignorance.  Imagine being shut off from every single person you have known your life because they have pained you.  Every single face brings memories of hurt that turn quickly into hatred.  I hate that face, so why do I have to talk to him.  That woman has only malice towards me and I have to say please and thank you.  No please and no thank you, I would rather go down and down and down till you can't see me and till you forget me, till you don't even find my mention in the obituaries, till I am banished even from your thoughts, like the car washer or the menial job worker who cleans your clothes and washes your dishes.  Till that moment arrives I can't really rise because your jealousy causes pain and pulls me down.  I have no money so why are you jealous of me, you must hate my face so much that every moment of my happiness causes a strong sense of anger in you.  You must really hate me a lot, I can sense it and feel it, go away screams your mind at me, and I will go away for I don't want this either.  NOT ANY OF THIS.

This brings memories of the tea stalls and small time biscuit shops, of "mathis", the eternal favourite indian snack.  There is some kind of magic in sitting on a crooked broken wooden 2 seater stool and just sipping tea and trying to forget hurtful memories till somebody arrives at the shack and the face or voice resembles somebody so much that I run to the next destination, not wanting to fight, maybe too confused and scared to fight, I just run to the next destination not knowing where it is.  Just godammit, let the night come, for the day brings too many memories.  I don't know how to spend my time and it is too expensive riding a car nowadays to visit far of destinations and who wants to visit ugly relatives anyhows.  So I walk and I walk like at least 5-10 kms every day, same area, different routes visiting different strangers selling their wares.  I have lost the sense of time, nothing exists as I just wait for the day to set and night to come and then there is one final meal and then sleep.  I have an Air Conditioner to sleep under but I don't pay the bills for it.  So I run, because life I think life doesn't want me to earn money.  I think I am looking for a motive, an answer to my predicament and some kind of rationalization, why am I so vague and unbonded, why do I hate my friends and family so much ?  I know the answers and I have them in me, its just that my mind is unwilling to accept them. 

I just don't have the skills - to earn money.  I have spent thirty years of my life, since I was born, doing something that doesn't earn me money.  And since I don't have money, nobody loves me.  I run away from this thought, seek solace in loneliness, when there is no solace to be found.  I am lonely and desireless.  Everything and everyone I desire is not with me anymore.
Set people free, so that you are not taken for granted.

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Web of Strangers

I met somebody yesterday.  Or should I say that I have been talking to this person on YM for a while now, but only yesterday I realised who this person was, what she believed in and what values she held precious.  Strange isn't it, that we can we can live our entire life with somebody without knowing who they really are, as a matter of fact we could live in a delusion about ourselves.  And out pops somebody who not only shows you who they are but also reveals a secret about yourself to you.  If we are honest to ourselves and do not fool ourselves, then, our lives are sorted.  This stranger who entered my life yesterday seems to know more about me than myself and the thought comes to my mind, she might be my alter ego.

Strange our the laws of this game. Some are in it for only lust, and without being too judgemental, I find that so disdainful.  I am in it because I want to find something I still don't know what.  My soul has revealed itself to me, and it is that which searches for something.  I am, 'read the body, just the medium.  So why is the soul searching for strangers ?.  Twenty years into my adult life, and it hasn't brought too many opportunities to mingle and find people of similar mindset.  Earlier, I was too consumed by the thought of the girl-boy relationship and failed to see the person beneath the veneer.  The body took precedence over the mind, and that always leads to broken relationship, short term bondings and disillusioned lifestyles.  I don't think age erects any barriers to minds connecting, but human value systems do.  I hope to find people from all walks of life and of all ages when I walk the web.  Where else is this opportunity so abundantly available to talk to people, to relate to them and make friends.  I don't know much about this, except that it has happened and so I must write and share this with you.

In every new relation, in the beginning we are strangers to each others.  Its just seems so obvious that a stranger of the past may be dear friend of today.  The idea however is to always live in the present, realise that every relation doesn't lead anywhere.  There is a one in hundred chance of converting an acquaintance to a good friend.  I don't care what you look like, I only hold precious the fact that you hold the same thoughts as me.
The internet offers myriad of opportunity, use it safely and trust its judgement.

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The Flight of Fancy

So How open are you ?
Do you even know what it is to be open and honest ?
Do you realise how we influence each others life ?
I am firm believer in the sphere of influence.  I believe my friend and if you believe in me, we shall form a group of people who by the influence of their pure and meaningful thought set new patterns of life.  Life as we know it is just a delusion, uncontrollable and out of control as we saw yesterday.  Control my friend, is when life is no longer a string of illusions, but real and within our grasps to shape as we please.  Dream on 'Red' as I am called in a closed coterie, and I shall dream on. 

I dream of a world where there is no discrimination based on the clothes we wear and the hair style we sport or the beard 'read goatee we keep.  It is a uni-world where your sex doesn't affect peoples outlook towards you, and as Utopian a concept as it may sound, there is only the thought of love and a firm acceptance in my head that tells other people "Use Me".  For if my friends can't use me for their benefits then no one else has any rights on my life.  "Use Me" because I want to be used by you my friend. I was a lost soul a few years back, and I used you to get back on my feet.  I will not be at rest till you have assigned a process in your life to my name.

Could I be a mariner who discovered West Indies or the pilot who touched the outer extremities of the atmosphere.  Could I for example, win the noble prize for peace one day.  I dream of the pot of gold at the end of rainbow.  I dream of a friend who would leave a trail for me to follow to the pot of gold where he would wait for me on a beach chair.  The last few years have not been easy, they have been a fight with life every morning, sporting a bandanna and my naturally free flowing beard, my mind has called for freedom.  The birds that fly in the sky are freer than even the most powerful person on earth, because they fly to a rhythm divine, a path set forth by the forces of nature, so very much in their elements that even in the eventuality of death it seems to be a natural consequence of that path.  Oh Lord set me free from the pain and suffering for I desire to fly with them birds.
I was born free and I struggle everyday so I can die a free man.

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