Three Drinks Ahead

We've moved!

2007-12-11T19:19:00.000+05:30

Yes, I've finally made the move to Wordpress.

Have been thinking about it for so long!

An empty day at work led to this. :)

Three Drinks Ahead can now be read at
http://threedrinksahead.wordpress.com

Our first Diwali together

2007-11-28T10:31:00.000+05:30

The diyaas that Mom sent.

This photo was taken after G was done soaking them
in water and was putting them in the sun to dry.

My rangoli. :)
G insisted, while I was making it, that it looked
like a 10 year old had made it. After I was done with it, though,
he did admit it actually looked nice.
Oh, and he helped too.
Oh, and this was made with the rangoli colours that Mom sent. :)

Sparks!

Yours truly. And, you can see the pretty
diyaas in the background.

Really like this photo. :)
Looks like both of us have our wands out, and
are casting spells on each other. Quite Potter-ish.
Oh, and that's my hand in the foreground.

November Updates

2007-11-26T11:44:00.000+05:30

Been a really long time since I blogged last. Some updates since then:

Changed my job. And very happy doing what I am right now. :)
Had our first Diwali together. Some pictures of that later. :)
I am now officially addicted to Facebook.
Yeah...that's pretty much it. Haven't read a single new book. Except for re-reading (for the 7th time, I think) The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer, and The Godfather by Mario Puzo. Haven't watched a single new film. Except for re-watching the Godfather trilogy. Am dying to watch Om Shanti Om and Jab We Met though. Have heard the second one is a pretty good film. And the first, I've heard, isn't - but I just love the reverence for the 60s and the 70s that Farah Khan's films have.

My Kitchen...

2007-11-04T23:24:00.000+05:30

This is the first film I've made with my phone. Nice? :)

Imagination

2007-11-02T12:44:00.000+05:30

...is stronger than knowledge...myth is more potent than history...dreams are more powerful than facts...hope always triumphs over experience...laughter is the cure for grief...love is stronger than death.

My mother is crazy!

2007-10-31T10:32:00.000+05:30

Papa was in town yesterday, and came over for a drink and dinner, and to drop off all that Mom had sent for me for दिवाली (Diwali) - and since then, I can't stop smiling every time I think of it. : )

My mother is crazy - and both, her Mom and my Dad, wish they too had a Mom like her!

She sends me nicely wrapped presents on every festival - Diwali, Christmas, Valentine's Day - and then asks for the wrapping paper to be kept carefully and handed back to her safely. And, she's strangely fond of sending मिठाई (mithaai/sweets) - even though she knows no one will finish it in my house.

She's always sent me pretty lights for Diwali, and last year, she got me a huge Christmas tree and all the decorations for it. Yesterday though, you outdid yourself, Ma! : )

So, I got a huge box full of मिटटी के दिए (lamps), along with the cotton बत्तियां (wicks), two packets of candles, very pretty electric lights, five packets of रंगोली (rangoli) colour, (AND) a book with रंगोली designs, very pretty गणेश and लक्ष्मी statuettes, one गणेश lamp, a packet full each of बादाम (almonds), काजू (cashewnuts) and अंजीर (dried figs), and a DVD player.

All this 'coz she knows I like mitti ka diyaas more than candles on Diwali.

She knows I love making rangoli, though I don't know how to.

And she knows these are the three dry fruits I like the most - almonds, cashewnuts and figs.

And, she knows that this'll be my first Diwali away from "home" in 25 years - in my own house this time.

And, she knows I'll miss everything - the pre-made marble rangoli design in our verandah at home (for which you don't need a rangoli design book), filling oil in all the lamps and then lighting them all over the house, the crazy Diwali pooja at home, wearing saris, walking all over town to see the lights and the mela.

Yes, I'll miss all this a whole lot, Ma. But, I'll miss you more. Love you.

My first Karvachauth...

2007-10-28T17:59:00.001+05:30

...and I wish I lived in easier and simpler times.

The question - or questions - in my head are many.

I don't believe in god.

Karvachauth is a religious tradition.

But then I do believe in traditions, even if I don't believe in god or religion.

I celebrate Diwali, Rakhi, Christmas and Id. Not for their religious meanings or reasons - but for the tradition we've had of celebrating them in my family.

Then why am I so confused about keeping a fast tomorrow?

Maybe because it's the first time.

Maybe because it's one of those traditions that I feel if I observe then people will expect me to also observe a lot of other things I that I don't at all believe in.

But, do I believe in this one either?

Frankly, I don't know. I do like the feeling of it. Sacrificing food for a day for the long life of the one you love. Leaving food for a day, I don't have a problem with that. Just like my Mom, I won't follow the fast to extreme limits either - like not even having a sip of water all day. Talked to her a little while back - and we decided we'd have everything - milk, fruits - everything except aanaaj (grain) or salt. That's quite do-able.

That's another reason, I think - that I've seen Mom keep the fast every year. And Papa too. I got a little bit of mehndi put on one hand today, 'coz I know that'll make my crazy mother extremely happy. :)

So, I will keep the fast tomorrow.

Tomorrow is also the first day of my new job. And no - I am not going to get all dressed up and go to work. For me, karvachauth is a very personal thing - and I don't need to show the world that I'm married. I don't think that is my identity at all. My identity is me. A lot of people asked me why I didn't wear the chooda after our marriage. That was for the same reason. Because my marriage is also a very personal thing. For me, our marriage is only a formalisation of the love that G and I share. And, partly, it was about getting our families involved too.

The reason for this post was more to make up my own mind - and writing it down just made it easier. But, like I said in the beginning, I wish I lived in easier and simpler times. Then maybe all this wouldn't have made me think oh-so-much(!!) - for the last two weeks, no less!

Update: So, yes - yesterday was Karvachauth. I kept the fast (the convenient kind), and so did G. :) Then, we both waited for the moon after we got back home from work. The GPS on my phone said the moon rise time was 8:21 p.m. - but on just that day when people are waiting for it, it finally is seen not before 9:15 p.m.! Anyway, so after the whole moon-water thing, G, his dad, my brother and I went out to dinner - since neither of our maids had turned up all day, even after me giving them the whole spiel about not missing work just because you have a fast, etc. After dinner, came back home and crashed out. There! That was what the first karvachauth was like. (30\10\07, 3:17 p.m.)

There Was Once

2007-10-11T16:29:00.000+05:30

- There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the forest.

- Forest? Forest is passe', I mean I've had it with all this wilderness stuff. It's not a right image of our society, today. Let's have some urban for a change.

- There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the suburbs.

- That's better. But I have to seriously query this word poor.

- But she was poor!

- Poor is relative. She lived in a house, didn't she?

- Yes.

- Then, socioeconomically speaking, she was not poor.

- But none of the money was hers! The whole point of the story is that the wicked stepmother makes her wear old clothes and sleep in the fireplace -

- Aha! They had fireplace! With poor, let me tell you, there's no fireplace. Come down to the park, come to the subway stations after dark, come down to where they sleep in cardboard boxes, and I'll show you poor!

- There was once a middle-class girl, as beautiful as she was good -

- Stop right there. I think we can cut the beautiful, don't you? Women these days have to deal with too many intimidating physical role models as it is, what with those bimbos in the ads. Can't you make her, well, more average?

- There was once a girl who was a little overweight and whose front teeth stuck out, who -

- I dont' think it's nice to make fun of people's appearances. Plus, you're encouraging anorexia.

- I wasn't making fun! I was just describing -

- Skip the description Description oppresses. But you can say what colour she was.

- What colour?

- You know. Black, white, red, brown, yellow. Those are the choices. And I'm telling you right now, I've had enough of white. Dominant culture this, dominant culture that -

- I dont' know what colour.

- Well, it would probably be your colour, wouldn't it?

- But this isn't about me! It's about this girl -

- Everything is about you.

- Sounds to me like you don't want to hear this story at all.

- Oh well, go on. You could make her ethnic. That might help.

- There was once a girl of indeterminate descent, as average-looking as she was good, who lived with her wicked -

- Another thing. Good and wicked. Don't you think you should transcend those puritanical judgemental moralistic epithets? I mean, so much of that is conditioning, isn't it?

- There was once a girl, as average-looking as she was well-adjusted, who lived with her stepmother, who was not a very open and loving person because she herself had been abused in childhood.

- Better. But I am so tired of negative female images! And stepmothers - they always get it in the neck! Change it to stepfather, why don't you? That would make more sense anyway, considering the bad behaviour you're about to describe. And throw in some whips and chains. We all know what those twisted, repressed, middle-aged men are like -

- Hey, just a minute! I'm a middle-aged -

- Stuff it, Mister Nosy Parker! Nobody asked you to stick in your oar, or whatever you want to call that thing. This is between the two of us. Go on.

- There was once a girl -

- How old was she?

- I don't know. She was young.

- This ends with a marriage, right?

- Well, not to blow the plot, but - yes.

- Then you can scratch the condescending paternalistic terminology. It's woman, pal. Woman.

- There was once -

- What's this was, once? Enough of the dead past. Tell me about now.

- There -

- So?

- So, what?

- So, why not here?

From Bones & Murder by Margaret Atwood

Notes from the last one month...

2007-10-06T13:29:00.000+05:30

Have had a B-A-D back...again! Was in bed for a week. Am so sick of this bad back. Have vowed to start working out, and strengthen the aforementioned back, to stop it from acting up every few months.
Two of my closest, best-est friends are now seeing each other. And that makes me very happy. Wish P would make A stop living in office. Also, wish P would make A start writing again ... 'coz A doesn't seem to be listening to me at all. Oh, and P should start writing too. :)
On the home front, our live-in help went off on a weekend off, never to come back. This was about three weeks back. Have been through one week with no help at all! With me cooking all the time, and G washing and cleaning up all the time! It is indeed surprisingly how much three people can eat in one day! We now have two part-timers - one to cook, the other to clean. And, the one who cooks is just so bad at cooking. Am desperately looking for someone who'd live with us, and manage everything. If anyone knows of anyone who'd move to our place (NCR), and do this, please please please, let me know!!
...so, yeah...this is mostly where I've been. Apart from work. Which has been hectic, to say the least.

Happy Teacher's Day! :)

2007-09-06T00:03:00.000+05:30

Mom sent this to me today...and I think it's lovely. And, I think the one person who embodies both of these perspectives is my Mom. She's been the best mother I could ever think anyone could be - and I hope I'll be like her in this way too - along with all the other ways that I'm like her - and so proud that I am. She's also (apart from being a mother, wife and friend, AND a practising Doctor), since the last 5 years, been running the school that my grandmother had started about 27 years ago. And, the way she's so involved with every child in the achool - makes me so proud. And, that's how, the rest of us - Papa, Saahil and I - help out with every year's annual function for the school - and it's so awesome every year. :)

Love you, Ma. :)

“Whose child is this?”

I asked one day

Seeing a little one

Out at play.

“Mine”, said the PARENT

with a tender smile

“Mine to keep a little while.

To bathe his hands

and comb his hair,

To tell him what he is to wear.

To prepare him that he

may always be good,

And each day do the

things he should.”

“Whose child is this?”

I asked again

as the door opened and

someone came in,

“Mine”, said the TEACHER

with the same

tender smile,

“Mine to keep just

for a little while.

To teach him how to be

gentle and kind,

to train and direct his

dear little mind.

To help him live by

every rule.

And get the Best he

can from SCHOOL.

“Whose child is this?”

I asked once more.

Just as the little one

entered the door,

“Ours”, said the PARENT

and the TEACHER

as they smiled

And each took the hand,

of the little child-

“OURS to love and

train together,

Ours this blessed task TOGETHER!”

HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY!!!

Starring...

2007-09-05T02:05:00.000+05:30

...my feet...again.

It's 12:16 a.m.

2007-09-01T00:16:00.000+05:30

...and I'm still at office.

Just finished work. Now waiting for a cab that'll drop me home.

I was getting bored and called G, who said - why don't you blog for a bit? Well, I'm here now - but am here so brain numbed that I can think of nothing to say.

And, I am probably going to read this tomorrow morning and wonder why I wrote at all.

I write - one, because I like to, once in a while. Two, I feel good about people visiting my blog and reading what I write. I'd feel even better if said people would leave comments though.

Saw Heyy Babyy a couple of nights ago. Lots of people saw nothing redeeming in the film. I thought it was a brilliant first effort at direction. (Film spoiler ahead)

The film was full of typically Sajid Khan jokes. I specially liked Boman Irani saying "aami tomaake bhaaloo bhashi" - with emphasis on bhaaloo (bear) - because he really likes Ritesh Deshmikh who is dressed as a cartoon bear called Eddy Teddy. Also, in another scene, Fardeen K, Ritesh D and Akshay K are trying to decide what they should name the baby - Fardeen says Aafreen - and Ritesh goes - Really? Why not Janasheen? That I think, is hugely funny!

Also, Sajid Khan managed to make Fardeen Khan act! That, in itself, is a big achievement. Not even Ram Gopal Verma succeeded in making the man look less like a block of wood and more slightly resembling a human with facial expressions.

Did not like Vidya Balan in Heyy Babyy. Had loved her in Munnabhai and Parineeta. Thought she looked very hard in this one. But then, maybe she was supposed to. But, there was none of that magic that I think Vidya Balan brings to the screen this time. Like Juhi Chawla, Vidya too lights up the screen - I think the good humour and happiness is contagious - everytime I watch either of these two actors, it always manages to cheer me up.

Boman Irani was good. As usual. The man never lets you down.

Akshay Kumar. When did the man start acting so well?! He was so good in Heyy Babyy. Now I know he got good after he finished with the action-hero type roles. But Heyy Babyy made me realise just how amazing he's become. In the scene where the doctor comes and tells the three of them that the baby's lungs are filled with water and she's got pneumonia, and might not survive the night - Akshay's face, and each expression on it, looks like it's heartfelt. It's so real.

On the whole, pretty good film. And I have not laughed as much as I did while watching Heyy Babyy in a very long time. It's not even all slapstick humour. It's actually very funny. Good fun!

I am now dying to watch Chak De and Gandhi My Father.

P.S.: Very good review of Chak De here.

'Coz they're the best-est!

2007-08-26T01:25:00.000+05:30

I've always thought, since I was 10 years old maybe, that there can be no two people who're as perfect for each other, and with each other, as my parents are. And, I remember wondering if I'll ever meet someone who I'm that good with. (The fact that I did actually find him is another post-in-waiting.)

But, they're the most awesome parents anyone can ever have, or want. My memories of childhood are of only being happy. And, I think, so are my brother's. (Except, in his case, an occasional whack from Mom for not studying.)

They've both always been more my friends than anything else. And, they've both believed in me - blindly - always. And trusted my decisions. And, most importantly, always, always been there after I screwed up.

Mom:
Thanks for making all our family traditions - like, Saahil tying me a rakhi as well, like decorating the Christmas Tree together, like dressing up nicely for Diwali, like cracking up during Diwali pooja just so it doesn't get all serious and stuffy, like making Sunday breakfast with eggs and toast, like singing in the car every time we drove out of town - and so many more.
Thanks for always being my best friend - and knowing me more than I know myself - and, always understanding. Always.
Thanks for reliving everything with me - I know you did.
Thanks for making my shaadi so wonderful.
Thanks for making Saahil and me the people that we are.
Thanks for making our family - the four of us - the completely crazy, madcap, happy family that we are.

Papa:
Thanks for being my biggest support - always. And for being the one person after talking to whom all my confusions clear just like that.
Thanks for being the best, most fun friend and father in the world.
Thanks for reading to me when I was a baby.
Thanks for making fun of our technologically challenged mother with me. :-D
Thanks for always standing up for me. Always, always.
Thanks for the camel story and carpenter story. :)
Thanks for teaching me that there's the right, honourable, truthful way of doing every thing.
Thanks for making me the person I am.
Thanks for making us feel so sure - Mom, Saahil and me - that we could do anything at all, and you'll still always stand by us. With us. Even against the world. Always.

Saahil:
Thanks for making my childhood so fun.
Thanks for being the one person who knows the strangest things about me - and knows my mind the way I know his - inside out.
And, a repeat of the testimonial I wrote for you on Orkut - I think that says best what I want to say - which, by the way, reminds me of asking you WHEN you're going to get around to writing one for me?!

"Brat!
Pest!
...erm...Cheeseling!

...I never thought when we were kids that you'd actually resemble something like a human being eventually - that I'd actually be able to have a conversation with you...ever!

From reading out Biggles to you...and not reading out stories with "metaphors" or literary "illusions"...and definitely NOT reading your favourite author...pretending to be asleep when Mom walked into our room at night, only to have you spoil it all by forgetting to put your head on the pillow...to stealing your money (read: opening a bank account for you)...to have you lending me money now...to dividing even air space on the bed...to understanding your crazy mutant brain...to have you understand me in a way very few people can...to sharing my childhood with you...to becoming the people we both are partly because of each other...

Love you so much!

And, so proud of you - me, Mom and Papa. " (14/06/2007)

Love you all so much.
Thanks for being the most wonderful family in the world. :)

Sphinx Deux

2007-08-26T00:13:00.000+05:30

Sun/Flowers

2007-08-25T12:56:00.000+05:30

These pretty feet

2007-08-25T12:26:00.000+05:30

...are mine.

ek sau solaah chaand ki raatein...ek tumhaare kaandhe ka til...

2007-08-14T20:04:00.000+05:30

This is a post that was inspired by something I read on Megha's blog about one of my favourite songs...

Incidentally, the line "ek sau solaah chaand ki raatein, ek tumhaare kaandhe ka til" from the song Mera Kuchh Saamaan from Ijaazat refers to the 116 phases of the moon that are listed in Indian classical literature. What Gulzar means to say is that all the possible phases of brightness that the moon has to offer, cannot even begin to match the tiny dark spot on your shoulder.

Very, very nice, I think. :)

Anyway, thinking about mera kuchh saamaan started me thinking about my favourite Hindi songs - or, some of my favourite Hindi songs, at any rate.

Mera Kuchh Saamaan and Katra Katra from Ijaazat
For RD's awesome music, Asha's awesome voice, and Gulzar's awesome lyrics. For the lines "tumne to aakash bichhaya...mere nange pairo mein zameen hai..." in Katra Katra. And for the aforementioned lines from mera kuchh saamaan.

Sona Nahin Naa Sahi from One 2 Ka 4
For the lines "sona nahin na sahi, chaandi nahin na sahi...fikar kya hai, main hoon na tere liye...". Not great lyrics, I know. But I just love the thought in the song. That, no matter if we have very little, but you have me - always.

Hum Aapki Aankhon Mein from Pyaasa
For the lines "hum aapko khwaabon mein la la ke sataayenge...hum aapki aankhon se neendein hi uDaa dein to...". And for Geeta Dutt's and Rafi's playful, lilting voices.
Tum Pukar Lo and Humne Dekhi Hai Unn Aankhon Ki from Khamoshi
"muqtasar si baat hai tum se pyaar hai...tumhaara intezaar hai, tum pukaar lo..." from tum pukaar lo. And, "humne dekhi hai, unn aankhon ki mahakati khushboo...haath se chhuuke ise, rishton ka ilzaam na do..." - only Gulzar can write words like "aankhon ki mahakati khushboo". Beautiful! :)

Meri Jaan Mujhe Jaan Naa Kaho from Anubhav
"honth jhuke jab honthon par...saans uljhi ho saanson mein...do judwaan honthon ki...baat kaho aankhon se...". Very sexy words, don't you think?

Gulmohar Gar Tumhaara Naam Hota from Devtaa
"gulmohar gar tumhaara naam hota...mausam-e-gul ko hasaana bhi humaara kaam hota...". Such a nice thought behind the lyrics. Also, 'coz I love Gulmohar trees when they're in full bloom - especially the red ones. Look like fire flowers.

Dekh Ke Teri Nazar from Howrah Bridge
There's this one line in the song, which goes - "aaye ho dho ke kahin aankhein sharaab se" - I don't think any other Hindi film song describes intoxicating, sexy eyes as well.

Abhi Naa Jaao ChhoDkar from Hum Dono
Love this song for its lyrics and music, but more so because this is the first song G sang to me. Not "sang" really - typed. We were chatting and it was very late at night, and I said I had to go sleep - and this is when he said abhi na jaao chhoDke, ke dil abhi bhara nahin...and I said, yehi kahoge tum sada ke dil abhi nahin bhara. And, this was one of those times when I was feeling constantly surprised at how two people who've had such different exposures and lives, have so much in common. I love old Hindi film songs (as is quite evident from this list!), and most people I've known have had no idea about any except for the most over-played and popular old songs. Another of the things that surprised me the same way is when G said (again in one of our chats) "swatIsaid" (translation: that's what I said) - which is what Ern Goon from The Five Find-Outers used to say. :)
Also, G's ID on ICQ used to be Hawkeye. From Hawkeye Pierce in M*A*S*H, who I used to be absolutely in love with. :)
Maula Mere Maula from Anwar
Beautiful, beautiful lyrics, and Rahat Fateh Ali Khan's awesome voice.

Tum Jo Mil Gaye Ho from Hanste Zakhm
The most haunting romantic song I have ever heard. Gives me goosebumps every time I hear it. Kaifi Azmi's lyrics and Rafi's voice. Wow!
Mujhe Dard-e-Dil Ka Pata Naa Thaa from Akash Deep
"yoon hi apne apne safar mein gum, kahin door mein kahin door tum...chale ja rahe thay juda juda, mujhe aap kisliye mil gaye..." Need I say any more? :)
Teri Deewani from Kailasa
Not a Hindi film song, but such beautiful lyrics. And Kailash Kher sings it with such feeling.
Mann Re Tu Kaahe Naa Dheer Dhare from Chitralekha
Outlook voted this as 1st out of the 20 best Hindi film songs ever. Not the best, I think. But, one of the best for sure!

There's this one song that I loooove! It's by Yesudas, as far as I remember. There's this one line in the song that goes - "samay ka aanchal thaam ke pal pal umar chali hai jaane kahaan..." - and I can't for the life of me remember tha title of the song, or any other words from it. Can someone please help me? 'Coz this is going to be driving me mad till I do remember which song this is from!!

Correction: Maula Mere Maula is not a Rahat Fateh Ali Khan song - it's actually sung by Roop Kumar Rathod. Still very nice though.

Tags: Also, I tag Quirky Soul, Anand, River, Anvita and the Mad Momma. Also, whoever else would like to take it up. :)

Another Update: I have finally managed to remember - with no help from anyone - which the last song I wrote about is! It's tere bin soona more mann ka mandir! :)

Not really "tagged"...

2007-08-07T00:22:00.000+05:30

...but so what.

The Mad Momma had blogged about things that she's judgemental about, and that made me think. I've often thought that I get extremely judgemental about certain stuff. Have been meaning to do this post for a very long time now - but with work and then having such little time at home with G, it just hasn't happened.

So, all of the following are things that I judge people on, but none of these really matter in family and friends - they might strike me, but the thought's gone in a second...

I judge people who can't speak good English. I know that's extremely superficial, but when people use bad grammar, wrong tenses, or pronounce words wrong - it just puts me off.
I judge people who write sms-es without vowels or punctuation. How much time or effort does it take to type "I'll call you back"?! Why does it have to be "l cl u bk"??! I don't get it! Even apart from sms, I don't get why people have no idea how to use punctuation. Especially the apostrophe. It's always "it's" when it should be "its", and vice versa.
I also judge people who don't reply to sms-es, and are very proud of the fact that they "just don't like text messages". What's there to like or not like about technology? It makes life easier, it's an excellent way to communicate, and also - I've noticed that you can really know how a person's mind actually works with the way they type sms-es. You can always tell if a person is witty or just plain boring.
I judge people who do not read. Especially, if you tell me that you'd rather sleep than read a book. What kind of a logic is that?!
I judge people who aren't aware of popular culture - films, books, music, television. To not know who sang "With a little help from my friends", or what Woodstock was, or what Kumar Gaurav's first film was, or how Hum Aapke Hain Kaun changed the movie-watching experience, to who Salvador Dali was, to who Asterix is, or who Pran Kumar Sharma is, what Amar Chitra Katha is all about, or who Byomkesh Bakshi is, or turn your nose up at the thought of following the Harry Potter books - I just don't get any of this. All this isn't stuff that you have to try and find out about, or read about, or in any way, try and get to - it's popular culture, people! It's all around you.
I judge people who don't love their work, and think that it's alright to not be passionate about what you spend your life doing, just because at the end of the day you're getting paid for it.
I judge people who change when they're in a relationship. I've seen women and men becoming completely different people depending on who they're with. Especially in a marriage. To my mind, marriage is supposed to be about coming together. Not changing each other. That is what the word compromise means to a lot of people, I've noticed.
I judge people who think it's cool to not watch films. I have a relative who prides herself at the fact that she hasn't watched a single film in the last 17 years. Really??! How's that a cool thing?
I judge people - women actually - who change after having children. They stop being a woman, a wife, a daughter, a friend, an individual - just 'coz having had a child, having achieved the ultimate aim of their being - that's it for them. I completely understand, and respect, being there for your children, in every which way you can - that's the least you owe them for having brought them into the world. But, not to the exclusion of everything else. Not to the exclusion of not having a marriage anymore - in every sense of the word. I judge women who make their children the sole ambition of their lives - to wake them up, to put them to sleep, to cook for them, to even talk about them endlessly even when they aren't around, and to give up on themselves - on their personalities and on their bodies. To forget the people they were (and still are actually) just because society, in some way, tells them that they've finally done what they were around to do, and that's that.
I judge people who don't leave tips for waiters in restaurants, and/or think they have the right to speak badly with them. I also judge waiters who don't serve with a pleasant expression, and/or are rude and condescending, and still expect tips.

I think this is it. For now. This, though, is a post in progress. And I am one judgemental b****!

Would just like to say again though. This does not apply to my family and friends. Some of my closest and best-est friends use wrong grammar lots of time. My brother detests reading - there was a time when I would actually read out a whole Biggles novel to him, in the hope of maybe making him start to like reading. And, my husband doesn't believe in replying to my sms-es, and when he does, he writes full words thanks to predictive text, but does not use any punctuation ever. Sigh!

He dies slowly...

2007-07-20T12:08:00.000+05:30

Who does not travel,
Who does not read,
Who does not listen to music,
Who does not enjoy himself.

He dies slowly...
Who destroys his self-esteem,
Who refuses the help of others.

He dies slowly...
Who becomes a slave of habit,
Repeating the same trajectory everyday.
Who will not change brands,
And dare not change the colour of his clothing.
Who will not converse with whom he does not know.

He dies slowly...
Who is afraid of passion
And the whirlwind of emotion,
That will return light to the eyes
And restore a broken heart.

He dies slowly...
Who does not change course when he is unhappy
At work or in his love-life,
Who will not take risks to pursue a dream,
Who will not, even once, take a chance.

Take a chance!
Live!
Do it today!
Don't let yourself die slowly!
Don't keep yourself from being happy!

- Pablo Neruda (poem translated from Spanish)

I'm feeling...

2007-07-09T16:44:00.000+05:30

amused. :-D

Why, you ask?

'Coz I've spent the last month worrying and fretting over problems I thought I was having. Well, turns out, at least three more people have the same problems. And, that amuses me no end.

Erm...ok...that made no sense to most people...! Just stuff at work - that cannot be elaborated upon.

Oh, and yeah - back in office today. :)

Ah. Feeling so much better.

2007-07-08T14:08:00.000+05:30

Back to office tomorrow. Been home since last Saturday.

Very nice evening yesterday. :)

My cats

2007-07-07T13:02:00.000+05:30

...have absolutely no idea of regular sleep patterns or meal cycles.

This is Xena and Gabriel asleep - till 12:30 p.m. - on our bed - as G and I oversleep on a Saturday morning...

...One would think they'd wake up the time they usually do and be meowing for their fish and roti and waking us up...!!

I now HAVE to get out of the house!

2007-07-06T21:51:00.000+05:30

It's been a week since I've been in bed - and have not ventured out; except for one night when I just HAD to get out for coffee late at night, and G drove me to the nearest Barista, but my back ache had started by the time we got there, so we came right back.

And, today - the first day that I'm feeling better, my husband is of no help at all - he's out handling a pub event for one of his clients. Meanwhile, I'm at home - hoping a friend leaves office in time, so he can come over and take me out for coffee.

..."manzil kuchh nahin hoti, thake jismon ko bharam hota hai"...

2007-07-06T15:49:00.000+05:30

This is one of the most beautiful and poignant lines of poetry I've ever read.
The rest of the poem has to be read:

Kuchh to kaho meri dost
tum chup kyun ho...
waqt achha yaa bura
beet hee jaayega
hum to musaafir hain
ek ummeed liye,
koi lamha
kisi pardaao kaa nishan to laayega...

Kuchh to kaho meri dost...

Tum chup rahogi agar
mere azm ki anaa kya hogi
meri shohrat tumhari wahshat naa sahee
tumhare likhne se mere dil ko tasalli hogi...

Kuchh to kaho meri dost..

Manzil kuchh nahin hoti
thakey jismon ko bharam hota hai,
phir koi raah nikalti hai
phir chal detey hain
sirf pardaao aatey hain
nikal jaatey hain...
Phir chehre pe udaasi kaisi
kaali raat ki tarah
yeh chuppi kaisi...
khabar acchhi nahin
buri hee sahi
waqt hai yeh bhi
beet jaayega,
manzil kaa keh nahin saktey lekin
phir kisi pardaao kaa nishaan
kisi ummeed,
kisi muskan ki tarah
waqt bewaqt
chalaa hee aayega..

Kuchh to kaho meri dost...
tum chup kyon ho?

- Nilendu Sen

Ok, so now we know...

2007-07-06T13:32:00.000+05:30

...what's wrong with my back!

I have developed Occupational Spondilosis. It's like, y'know how Tennis players get Tennis Elbow...kinda the same thing. Occupational Spondilosis happens with sitting at the computer for long hours - for many years. Can't be avoided really. The only thing that I can do to avoid another attack is to exercise my back and not lift very heavy weights, so it doesn't get affected this easily the next time.

Another cause for concern - I apparently have some deposits on the edges of my vertebra. It was thought to be Uric Acid deposits, but the blood test report shows that the level of Uric Acid in my blood is normal. So...well...!

Have spent the last week in bed. And since I've been lying in the weirdest of postures to keep my back from hurting, I now have a crick in my neck, which is not letting me turn my head to either side. Bugger!

So, basically - it's been a restful, but depressingly boring week. Tomorrow and day after though are G's days off. :)

Baaaaaaaaaaad Backache!

2007-07-03T12:54:00.000+05:30

The Orthopaedic says it's something to do with decalcification of the back-bone. But, don't see how that's possible - considering Mom made Saahil and me have huge mugs of milk twice a day, every day. That was till I was living at home. It's been six years since I moved to Delhi - and the childhood torture of drinking milk everyday left such an imprint on my mind, that I still regularly have a huge mug of milk every morning. (Yep, I'm sure my kids will go through the same torture as well.)

But, the point is, where is all that Calcium going?! How can my backbone, of all the bones in my body, be decalcifying all of a sudden?! What happened to the rest of the 200-something bones?

Today's the second day I haven't been to work. And, I really should - have loads of work to finish!

New stuff on my blog...

2007-07-02T15:51:00.000+05:30

I think this is very interesting. You match words to the picture that seems the most appropriate to you. And, the site tells you, what they call, your Visual DNA. Try it!
Another blog widget for your blog: LibraryThing. I've got it on mine. You can catalog your books on the site, and add a random list to your blog.
Punkymoods is the new avatar of the erstwhile Unkymoods. Love their graphics!
Another list on my blog is from the 43things. I've just got 16 things as yet. Get your own list of things you want to do.

Of a picnic...and a very bad backache...

2007-07-02T12:02:00.000+05:30

At home today - with a very sore back. Today's the 4th day and the backache refuses to subside. Mom and G are finally making me go to the Orthopedic today.

Had a very fun time yesterday though. Took my cousins, and two of their friends for a picnic. We went to Humayun's Tomb. Had wanted to take S and K for a picnic since a long time. One, because they're two of the cutest and smartest kids I've ever known (...and I say this not 'coz they're my cousins! Believe me!). And two, 'coz I knew they'd love it, and so would I. The third (secret) reason was also that - well, lately - I have been thinking more and more about how I really want to have a baby. I know that we can't - right now. For various reasons. But, I really, really want to. And, this isn't a recent thing either - have always known I'd love to have a baby. And surprisingly, the whole "responsibility" thing doesn't scare me, like it does G. He's freaked out about me feeling this way, obviously. :D :D :D

All the kids, with G

That's the cutest lil' imp in the world - Ketaki

And, that's Siya

Aren't they the cutest? :)

Cold 'n' Hot

2007-06-30T18:35:00.001+05:30

Overhead lights, in the fifth floor ladies' washroom, in the NDTV building

Pashemaani / A Sense of Regret

2007-06-30T16:51:00.000+05:30

Main ye soch kar uske dar se uttha tha
Ki woh rok legi, manaa legi mujhko,

Hawaaon mein lehraata aata tha daaman
Ki daaman pakaD kar bittha legi mujhko,

Kadam aise andaaz se utth rahe thay
Ki aawaaz dekar bula legi mujhko,

Magar usne roka na mujhko manaaya
Na daaman hi pakDa na mujhko bitthaaya,

Na aawaaz hi di, na waapas bulaaya
Main aahista-aahista baDhta hi aaya,

Yahaan tak ki usse juda ho gaya main.

- Kaifi Azmi

Hausla / Courage

2007-06-30T16:42:00.000+05:30

Tu khursheed hai, baadalon mein na chhup
Tu mehtaab hai, jagmagaana na chhoD

Tu shokhi hai shokhi, riaayat na kar
Tu bijli hai bijli, jalaana na chhoD

Abhi ishq ne haar maani nahin
Abhi ishq ko aazmaana na chhoD

- Kaifi Azmi

You are the sun, don't hide in the clouds
You are the moon, continue to shine.

You are mischievous seduction, don't let it subside
You are the lightning, continue to strike.

Love has not yet admitted defeat
Continue to test it, as much as you like.

Translation by Pavan K. Varma

Taj Mahal

2007-06-28T10:58:00.000+05:30

In the wake of the recent mania concerning making The Taj part of the new Seven Wonders of the World - and, the fact that all Indian television and radio channels, and mobile phone operators are making tonnes of money with this - here's something from Sahir Ludhianvi:

taaj tere liye ik mazahar-e-ulfat hi sahi
tum ko is vaadi-e-rangeen se aqeedat hi sahi

[mazahar-e-ulfat = symbol of love; vaadi-e-rangeen = beautiful spot; aqeedat = respect/preference]

mere mehboob kaheen aur mila kar mujh se!

bazm-e-shaahi mein gareebon ka guzar kya maanee
sabt jis raah pe ho.n satavat-e-shaahi ke nishaan
us pe ulfat bhari ruuho.n kaa safar kya maani

[bazm-e-shaahi = royal court; sabt = etched]
[satavat-e-shaahi = royal grandeur; ulfat bhari ruuh = lovers]

meri mehboob pas-e-pardaa-e-tashheer-e-vafaa
tu ne satavat ke nishaano.n ko to dekha hota
murdaa shaaho.n ke maqaabir se bahalevaalee
apne taareek makaano.n ko to dekhaa hotaa

[pas-e-pardaa-e-tashheer-e-vafaa = behind the veil of this advertisement of faith/love] [satavat = wealth/grandeur; maqaabir (maqabaraa) = tomb; taareek = dark]

anaginat logo.n ne duniya mein mohabbat ki hai
kaun kehta hai ki saadiq na the jazbe un ke
lekin un ke liye tashheer ka saamaan nahin
kyun ke vo log bhi apni hi tarah mufalis the

[saadiq = true; tashheer = advertisement; mufalis = poor]

ye imaaraat-o-maqaabir ye faseele.n, ye hisaar
mutal-qulhukm shehenshaaho.n ki azamat ke sutuu.n
daaman-e-dahar pe us rang ki gulakaari hai
jis mein shaamil hai tere aur mere ajadaad kaa khoon

[hisaar = forts; mutal-qulhukm = unthinking/arrogant; azamat = greatness; sutuu.n = symbol]
[daaman-e-dahar = on the face of this world; gulakaari = flowers and vines; ajadaad = ancestors]

meri mehboob! unhein bhi to mohabbat hogi
jinki sannai ne bakhshi hai ise shakl-e-jameel
un ke pyaaron ke maqaabir rahe benaam-o-namuud
aaj tak un pe jalaayi na kisi ne qandeel

[sannai = artistry; shakl-e-jameel = beautiful form]
[benaam-o-namuud = without name or even a trace; qandeel = candle]

ye chamanzaar ye jamuna ka kinara ye mahal
ye munaqqash dar-o-deevaar, ye meheraab ye taaq
ik shehenshaah ne daulat ka sahara le kar
ham gareebo.n ki mohabbat ka udaayaa hai mazaak

[chamanzaar = garden; munaqqash = picturesque]

mere mehaboob kahin aur mila kar mujhse!

A new start...

2007-06-26T01:19:00.000+05:30

...again.

Though, today's the 26th day of the new start.

Whether Flowers Bloom or Not

2007-03-18T14:44:00.000+05:30

Whether flowers bloom or not

it’s spring today

On the paved footpath

with feet dipped in stone

a rather wooden tree

laughs out loud

chest bursting with fresh green leaves

Whether flowers bloom or not

it’s spring today.

The days of masking the sun

and then unmasking it

of laying people down in the lap of death

of picking them up again

those days that have passed this way

let them not return

That lad of many voices

who for a coin or two

would chirp like a koel down the street

in the ceremonial yellow of twilight

— those days have taken him away

With the sky like a red and yellow wedding invitation

on her head

clasping the railing to her breast

a dark and ugly unwed girl down this alley

played with such idle thoughts

Right then

there fluttered in, shamelessly, right onto her body,

oh damnation! A stupid, awful, foolish butterfly!*

Then the sound of a door slamming shut.

Hiding his face in the dark

that sinewy tree

was still laughing.

- Subhas Mukhopadhyay

Together

2007-03-17T01:19:00.000+05:30

"Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source of human offspring." - John Milton

"Marriage is like pi - natural, irrational, and very important." - Lisa Hoffman

"A wedding is a start of togetherness... of walks in the rain, basking in the sunshine, shared meals, caring for one another, and sensing the love that a marriage carries." - Unknown

new, new! :)

2007-01-18T13:56:00.000+05:30

Shall put up better pictures of the new house when it's all pretty, and ready to be photographed. :)

Ranjan Yumnam?

2007-01-17T16:50:00.000+05:30

My blog counter tells me that one of the Top 40 keywords used was Ranjan Yumnam.
I wonder if this is the same Mr. Yumnam...

aur aur apna

2007-01-14T22:13:00.000+05:30

jis'e paakar lag'e
ki apne ko paa liya
samajhna wo apna hai.
aur jis'e paakar
lag'e ki apne ko
kho diya,
samajhna wo aur bhi
apna hai.

Here's to you, sweetie. :)
...just another 27 days to go.

:)

2007-01-14T22:10:00.000+05:30

One very, very nice poem here.

Photos

2007-01-12T22:05:00.000+05:30

On the Beach in Puri

Chanakyapuri, New Delhi

Fireflower Tree

India Gate

Aao Ki Koi Khwaab Bunein... - Sahir Ludhianvi

2007-01-12T18:50:00.000+05:30

aao ki koi khhwaab bunein kal ke vaaste
varnaa ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki
Das legi jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil
ta'umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein

[bunein = to weave; sangeen daur = difficult times]
[Das legi = will bite; ta'umr = entire life]

go hum se bhaagti rahi ye tez-gaam umr
khwaabon ke aasare pe kaTi hai tamaam umr

[tez-gaam = fleet-footed]

zulfon ke khwaab, honThon ke khwaab, aur badan ke khwaab
meraaj-e-fan ke khwaab, kamaal-e-sukhan ke khwaab

[meraaj-e-fan = (to reach) summit of art; kamaal-e-sukhan = perfection in poetry]

tehzeeb-e-zindagi ke, farog-e-vatan ke khwaab
zindaan ke khwaab, kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan ke khwaab

[tehzeeb-e-zindagi = civilized life; farog-e-vatan = nation's upliftment]
[zindaan = prison; kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan = road leading to the gallows]

ye khwaab hi to apni jawaani ke paas thay
ye khwaab hi to apne amal ke asaas thay
ye khwaab mar gaye hain to be-rang hai hayaat
yoon hai ki jaise dast-e-tah-e-sang hai hayaat

[amal = work; asaas = foundation; hayaat = life]
[dast-e-tah-e-sang = hands crushed under a stone/helpless]

aao ki koi khwaab bunein kal ke vaaste
varna ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki
Das legi jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil
ta'umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein

Meri Teri Nigaah Mein... - Faiz Ahmed Faiz

2007-01-12T18:44:00.000+05:30

meri teri nigaah mein jo laakh intezaar hain
jo mere tere tan badan mein laakh dil fiGaar hain
jo meri teri ungaliyon ki behisii se sab qalam nazaar hain
jo mere tere sheher ki har ik gali mein mere tere naqsh-e-paaa ke be-nishaan mazaar hain
jo meri teri raat ke sitaare zakhm zakhm hain
jo meri teri subah ke gulaab chaak chaak hain
ye zakhm saare be-davaa ye chaak saare be-rafuu
kisi pe raakh chaand ki kisi pe os ka lahu
ye hain bhi yaa nahin bataa
ye hai ki mehez jaal hai
mere tumhaare ankabuut-e-vehem ka buna hua
jo hai to is ka kya karein
nahin hai to bhi kya karein
bataa, bataa, bataa, bataa

Another perspective...

2006-08-23T14:42:00.000+05:30

...heard a better one?

Kalia naag
dwaapar mein hi
amreeka migrate kar gaye
aur khol baithe
Coke aur Pepsi naam se
do dukaan…

Kalyug mein lagey
duniya bhar mein bechney
apna samaan...

Kahin botal mein
toh kaheen cans mein
ek nashey saa
ghul chalaa
zahreeli gas
aur shakkar kaa
paani mein
uthta hua unmaad prem jwaar…

Kitnaa bhi manaa
karein daaktar,
bhalaa bachhey
bhi maanaa kartey hainge
baDon ki sunkar?

Aur Sachin Shahrukh
Kareena ki sunenge
Ya aapki??!!
Unkey aagey naa chali
kisi ke baap ki…

Kaliyaa khush…
ab batlaao
Kishan maharaaj
tum kabhi gandhi
kabhi Mandela aur
Martin Luther King
bankar
in firangiyon ko
sunaaogey
Bhagvad Geeta
ka chakkar?

Mama Kamsa inka
nanha sa
munna sa
masoom sa
poorvaj tha

Kitney nadaan ho tum
usse markar
khud ko
khuda samajh baithey

Mujhe bhagakar
Radha par lota paani lekar
chardh baithe!!!

Ab meri khoob chalti
hai yahaan
khoob baandha hai
gopiyon ne samaa

Tumney diya tha
vardaan
so kabhi
maharshi to kabhi bankar
bhagwaan
kabhi Atlanta to kabhi Oregon
khoob kartaa hoon tumharey
bakwaas ka bakhaan…

Itnaa baDaa hai
inke paap ki fehrist
kaa naap
ki kai Mahabharat
gyan dete reh jaayenge aap

Aur abhi kal hi
ki baat hai
merey products mein
zahar ki maatra kuchh
baRdh si gayee
tum toh jaantey ho
dhande mein yeh koi
bhalaa baat hai nayi?

So saara maal
Mahim ke paikhaanon mein
diya daal
aur socha saara paap tumharey
sir mardh kar
mukhya mantri ban
bhaashan doonga
kisi manch par chardhkar
kahoonga prakritik aapda hai
jissey nibatney ko hum hain
kab se tayyaar
aakhir humein jantaaa se jo hai pyaar…

Lekin dekho toh hindustaniyon kaa khel !
Kattar Hindu mandirwaadi
aur lashkar ke aatankiyon mein
fauran ho gayaa mel!!

Meetha ho gayaa hai
samudra kaa jal,
tumharey karishmon ke kya kehney
tum ab samudra mein bankar jal
Mumbaikaron ke bankar hal
lagey ho Mahim ke gutter mein bahne!!
Dhanya ho tum…Allah ho akbar!

Aur Khushi se jhoom uthey hain
Siddhi vinayaayak
agar Mahim kaa garal ban saktaa hai jal
to kyon naa dhoodh peeyein wo
Kya hua agar karordon bachhon ko
nahin hai doodh naseeb
Mahim creek to hai bilkul nazdeek
Ek nadee see bhi bahti hai wahaan
dekho to vidambnaa
ya yoon kahein kaal kaa
yaani tumharaa hi khel
naam hai nadee kaa Mitthi…
baardh mein bhi kal
jismein beh rahee thee laashein
mootra aur mal !!!

BaRe prem se diyaa tha tumney
mujhe desh nikaala...
par dekar mujhhey abhishapt jeevan se mukti
lautaa kar mera swabhimaan
arey madhavkantji
aap mere sar per chardh kar naache
phir bhar diyaa mujhmein vish...

Yugon tak chalega ye khel
kaun kisko nikaaltaa hai
kaun kar saktaa hai tai

Tumhein khushfahmi ki
tum ho savera

Mujhe koi gurez nahin
bankar naapaak raaton ka andheraa

Kaliya hoon main
koi saadhaaran saanp nahin
mere kuchley huye
sahasra phunon ka
har kshan denaa hai hisaab…

Avtaar bankar kabhi kabhi aaooge,
aur mere moh se iss qaynaat ko
bachaaogey?

Kitney nadaan ho tum balgopal
maraa karein duryodhan dusaashan
agar tum pavitra savera ho
aur chalaa kartey ho daal daal
chalta hoon paat paat main bhi
bankar kamsin randee si raat

Waqt hain hum, bhai
main Kaliya hoon
tum Krishna
agar hum mil jaatey
to inn goron par raaj kar paatey...
par hum to satya aur asatya bankar
aadhyatam kaa bakhaan kartey hain
ek haath se daan detey hain
doosrey se rishwat letey hain

Chalo chhordo bahut kos liya tumko
sir par chardh kar mere
naachey jo thay tum
bhagwaan ho jaankar bhi
ek adnaa se saanp ko jeet kar
khushi manaana theek nahin...

Shaam ko ghar aao
sunahree Scotch piyenge
kaali Coke yaa pepsi nahin
tai karenge raasta aagey kaa

Jaan lo ki jab aadhi duniya jaagegi
to aadhee hi soyegi

Naag hoon main Kanha
Kalia Naag...
dansh meri pravritti hai,
dansh meri prakriti hai
dansh mujhmein hai tumhara hi ansh…
to kyon nahin saath jeete...

Tum Krishnaang sukarmavaadi
main kaliya naag
paryaay kukarmon kaa...
kaaley to hum donon hain
phir bair kaisa
aapas mein baant lenge
tumhaara hi dikhayaa huaa karmaphal
in goron ko akrmanya banaa kar
sabhyata ke koordey daan mein daalkar
aao naa wo waqt laayein
jismein naa ujaala ho daag daag
naa raaton kaa koi kamsin jashna
kisi firangi rudheevadee
sangeen ke darr se
tham jaaye…

- Nilendu Sen

"La vita e bella; la vita e amore"

2006-08-21T15:41:00.000+05:30

"I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes - and the stars through his soul." - Victor Hugo

"Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." - Rose Franken

"Love is my religion - I could die for that." - John Keats

"All I really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." - Lucy Van Pelt

"Grow old with me, the best is yet to be." - Robert Browning

"People who are sensible about love are incapable of it." - Douglas Yates

15th of August, 2006 - "the step before the next"

2006-08-17T14:16:00.000+05:30

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for another given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven:
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.

His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it bides:
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.

- Sir Philip Sidney

Of Gulzar and a few of my favourite songs...

2006-06-04T22:56:00.000+05:30

Got work to do, and can think of nothing else to write...
Hence, some random lyrics...
All three, my favourites...
All three, written by Gulzar...

1)
Tum Pukar Lo Tumhara Intezaar Hai...
Film: Khamoshi

Tum pukar lo, tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...
Khwaab chun rahi hai raat, beqarar hai...
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

(Honth pe liye hue dil ki baat ham...
Jaagte rahenge aur kitni raat ham...) -2
Muqtasar si baat hai tum se pyaar hai...
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

(Dil bahal to jaayega is khayal se...
Haal mil gaya tumhara apne haal se...) -2
Raat ye qaraar ki beqarar hai...
Tumhara intezaar hai...


2)
Humne Dekhi Hai Unn Aankhon Ki...
Film: Khamoshi

Hamne dekhi hai, unn aankhon ki mahakati khushboo...
Haath se chhuke ise, rishton ka ilzaam na do...
Sirf ehasaas hai ye,  rooh se mehsoos karo...
Pyaar ko pyaar hi rehene do, koi naam na do...

Hamne dekhi hai, unn aankhon ki mahakati khushboo...
Haath se chhuke ise, rishton ka ilzaam na do...
Hamne dekhi hai...

Pyaar koi bol nahin, pyaar aawaaz nahin...
Ek khamoshi hai, sunti hain kaha karti hai...
Na ye bujhti hai, na rukti hai, n thehari hai kahin...
Noor ki boond hai, sadiyon se bahaa karti hai...

Sirf ehasaas hai ye,  rooh se mehsoos karo...
Pyaar ko pyaar hi rehene do, koi naam na do...

Hamne dekhi hai, unn aankhon ki mahakati khushboo...
Haath se chhuke ise, rishton ka ilzaam na do...
Hamne dekhi hai...

Muskurahat si khili rehti hai aankhon mein kahin...
Aur palakon pe ujaale se jhuke rehte hain...
Honthh kuchh kehte nahin, kaanpate honthhon pe magar...
Itne khamosh se afsaane ruke rehte hain...

Sirf ehasaas hai ye,  rooh se mehsoos karo...
Pyaar ko pyaar hi rehene do, koi naam na do...

Hamne dekhi hai, unn aankhon ki mahakati khushboo...
Haath se chhuke ise, rishton ka ilzaam na do...
Hamne dekhi hai...


3)
Meri Jaan Mujhe Jaan Na Kaho...
Film: Anubhav

Meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
Meri jaan, meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
meri jaan, meri jaan...

(Jaan na kaho anjaan mujhe...
jaan kahaan rehti hai sadaa...) - 2
Anjaane, kya jaane...
Jaan ke jaaye kaun bhala...

Meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
Meri jaan, meri jaan...

(Sookhe saawan baras gaye...
Kitni baar in aankhon se...) - 2
Do boondein na barse...
In bheegi palkon se...

Meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
Meri jaan, meri jaan...

(Honth jhuke jab honthon par...
Saans uljhi ho saanson mein...) - 2
Do judwaan honthon ki...
Baat kaho aankhon se...

Meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
Meri jaan, meri jaan, mujhe jaan na kaho meri jaan...
Meri jaan, meri jaan...

...Aaa-nd, we're back!

2006-06-04T03:57:00.000+05:30

:)
See you soon.

I Believe in You - Don Williams

2006-06-03T11:23:00.000+05:30

I don't believe in superstars,
Organic food and foreign cars.
I don't believe the price of gold;
The certainty of growing old.
That right is right and left is wrong,
That north and south can't get along.
That east is east and west is west.
And being first is always best.

But I believe in love.
I believe in babies.
I believe in Mom and Dad.
And I believe in you.

Well, I don't believe that heaven waits,
For only those who congregate.
I like to think of God as love:
He's down below, He's up above.
He's watching people everywhere.
He knows who does and doesn't care.
And I'm an ordinary man,
Sometimes I wonder who I am.

But I believe in love.
I believe in music.
I believe in magic.
And I believe in you.

Well, I know with all my certainty,
What's going on with you and me,
Is a good thing.
It's true, I believe in you.

I don't believe virginity,
Is as common as it used to be.
In working days and sleeping nights,
That black is black and white is white.
That Superman and Robin Hood,
Are still alive in Hollywood.
That gasoline's in short supply,
The rising cost of getting by.

But I believe in love.
I believe in old folks.
I believe in children.
I believe in you.

But I believe in love.
I believe in babies.
I believe in Mom and Dad.
And I believe in you.

The Fourth DBM was...

2005-12-05T09:57:00.000+05:30

a success, Mr. Ranjan Yumnam. :D

Now, I know I was the host (who reached a little late though), but there were no minutes taken down, and the agenda - well, there was none.

Fifteen people turned up:
(This list also includes four "elite" bloggers)

Saket: http://www.vulturo.com
TTG: http://25worldcountry.blogspot.com
Ashish: http://www.latestinindia.com
Gaurav: www.newdelhitimes.org
Aanchal (yours truly): http://threedrinksahead.blogspot.com
Swar: http://liklasa.blogspot.com
Jai: http://jaiarjun.blogspot.com
Nikhil: http://mixedbag.blogspot.com
Shefali: http://learningtofloat.blogspot.com
Aditi: http://leafyriver.blogspot.com
eM: http://thecompulsiveconfessor.blogspot.com
Prathamesh: http://zenkatha.blogdrive.com
Abhishek: http://abhishekkant.blogspot.com
River: http://riversblueelephants.blogspot.com
Prakriti: http://theevilp.blogspot.com

...Lots more news on the DBM later today - at a time when I'm not dangerously late for work.

Some more updates on the 4th DBM:

2005-12-03T02:00:00.000+05:30

Quite high on nice white wine and potent sake right now. (...ok, this wasn't about the 4th DBM...I know...but it's my blog...what you gonna do?)
Blog Meet tomorrow. It'll be fun.
Have reserved place in DV8 for about 12-15 people. (Again. Hah, Saket! ...Before your list-making began.) :)
Blog Meet starts at 5, which gives us at least 3 hours to drink within Happy Hours! Yay!
They just might be convinced to let Happy Hours go on even after that(!), what with DV8 regulars like yours truly and Anand being present. Double yay!
I really hope Ranjan Yumnam drops in. However, even if he doesn't, Jai thinks he himself might attempt a sting operation this time.
Meanwhile, Tarun, of course, promises that there'll be frisking for media credentials.
Quite a few people have confimed. Even those who haven't - please drop in. We'll be the large group of people - four of them, "elite bloggers". :D Please do come.
If anyone needs to tie up anything, here's my number again - 98101-41855.

Coming Up: The Fourth "Delhi" Bloggers' Meet

2005-12-02T23:59:00.000+05:30

Update: Six people have accepted as yet. I'd really appreciate it if everyone could spread the word further. Also, you could call me at 98101-41855. And, yeah- in case DV8 doesn't suit everyone, please suggest an alternative. And, if it's gonna be DV8, then well...we catch Happy Hours (Yay!) from whenever we get there till 8 o'clock. Also, a few things in its favour, or the reasons why I thought of it- nice, comfy couches, not very loud music, and very friendly waiters. Ooh, and...pretty nice cocktails! ;)

Meanwhile, some more on the upcoming blog meet- it's gonna be all about frisking and recording, I hear.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hereby accept to host the Fourth "Delhi" Bloggers' Meet, which, I insist, will represent all of Delhi.

Also, since I be one of the now-famous "elite" bloggers, I also be the right person to host this Blog Meet.

Date: 4th of December, Sunday
Time: 5 p.m.
Venue: DV8, Regal Building, Connaught Place

All you Delhi Bloggers are invited, and a special invitation is hereby extended to a certain Mr. Ranjan Yumnam.

---Leave comments to confirm---

One of the nicest opening lines in a film...

2005-11-30T02:12:00.000+05:30

is - "This picture takes place in Paris in those wonderful days when a siren was a brunette and not an alarm --- and if a Frenchman turned out the light, it was not on account of an air raid!"

...from Ninotchka, made in 1939.

After the credits, the film's prologue is viewed over a long shot view of the Place de la Concorde in Paris, and that's when you hear this line.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

2005-11-27T15:30:00.000+05:30

Mary Poppins:
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
It's...
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious

All:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Bert:
Because I was afraid to speak
When I was just a lad
My father gave me nose a tweak
And told me I was bad
But then one day I learned a word
That saved me achin' nose

Bert, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
The biggest word I ever heard
And this is how it goes: Oh!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Mary Poppins:
He traveled all around the world
And everywhere he went
He'd use his word and all would say
"There goes a clever gent"

Bert:
When Dukes and maharajas
Pass the time of day with me
I say me special word and then
They ask me out to tea

Bert, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
Oh..
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Mary Poppins:
So when the cat has got your tongue
There's no need for dismay
Just summon up this word
And then you've got a lot to say
But better use it carefully
Or it could change your life

The Perlie:
One night I said it to me girl
And now me girl's my wife!

The Perlie, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
Oh..
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Click on the subject of this post for some pretty interesting information on "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious".

Before the Word

2005-11-27T14:49:00.000+05:30

Corn is great, on the cob or otherwise,
but before corn in the ear there was life.
Fire is holy especially for Zoroastrians,
but before fire too there was life.
Before the bowstring and the flint arrow sang,
there was life.

The word is great,
yet there was life before the word.
We can't turn romantic and say
we were into bird speech or river-roar then,
into the silence of frost
or the language of rain.
But forest speech and swamp speech
came through easier to us.
When lightning crashed,
the cry of the marsh bird was our cry,
and we flung ourselves to the other branch
like any other baboon.

As winter whined on windy cliff,
we shivered with the yellow grass.
In winter-dark a hundred eyes
flared yellow in the jungle scrub.
When seasons changed, blood coursed with sap
and flowered in meadows. We were at home.
Nor eyes nor bat cries bothered us.
What if we didn't know
a bat assessed reality
from the ricochet of its cry?

Though there were no words,
fear had a voice with many echoes.
Worship was quieter, adoration
spoke only through the eyes or knees.

What was it like before language dropped like dew,
covering the scuffed grass of our lives?

Keki N. Daruwala is an eminent poet and fiction writer.
He writes in English and lives in New Delhi.

2005-11-20T02:04:00.000+05:30

sheher ki bechirag galiyon mein
zindagi tujhko dhoondti hai kahin...

...so said someone to someone else...wonder what happened after that...

A prostitute to her daughter - K. Satchidanandan

2005-11-18T21:49:00.000+05:30

Dear child, say without shame
that I am your mother
and this city is your father.
Go, tell the chaste wives,
I teach their men how to love.

I offered myself
in place of a thousand women,
and became a saint.

Man, my child, is endless Desire,
you should cross that sea
the way I rose above my body.

Raise your head;
be my survivor, grow to be great.
You should have a tryst with tomorrow:
you should see the sun
that I could not.

I do not want to weep before Jesus
nor do I want Upagupta to weep before me.
Every night I turn red hot,
every morning I become gold.

I conquered lust;
you should transcend greed.
We are the bountiful Earth
and we, the giving Nature.

(Translated from Malayalam by the poet with Rizio Raj)

Words

2005-11-15T00:55:00.000+05:30

"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less."
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master - that's all."

2005-11-13T22:45:00.000+05:30

Na aaj lutf kar itna ke kal guzar na sake
woh raat jo ke tere gesoo'on ki raat nahin
ye aarzoo bhi baRi cheez hai magar hamdam
visaal-e-yaar faqat aarzoo ki baat nahin

Grant me not so much bounty today that tomorrow
night, without your locks,
may be too wearisome.
Yearning is a great thing, O friend,
but union with the beloved is not just a matter of
longing.

Delhi Times/Delhi Slimes

2005-11-09T15:23:00.000+05:30

Today's "Delhi Slimes" has an article about our Blogger Meet.

TTG also has a post about the article.

Now, the thing about the article is that, well, one, that Delhi Times (now Slimes) has sunk the lowest they could ever go; and two, that this article completely and totally misinterprets everything that was said that day.

I'm so fuckin' furious!

The only lucky thing about it, as TTG says too, is that River's name in the article isn't her real name.

I so hope Vulturo posts this "James' " number on his blog!

Update: James' number- 9818205432

...aur theek taraazu ke kaante par ardh satya

2005-11-07T21:48:00.000+05:30

One of my friends was talking about Govind Nihalani's Ardh Satya the other day. :)

Couldn't help but remember the poem (by the same name) in the film. It was written by Dilip Chitre.

chakravyuh mein ghusne se pehle
main kaun tha aur kaisa tha
yeh mujhe yaad hi na rahega

chakravyuh mein ghusne ke baad
mere aur chakravyuh ke beech
sirf ek jaanleva nikat-ta thi
iska mujhe pata hi na chalega

chakravyuh se nikalne ke baad
main mukt ho jaoon bhale hi
phir bhi chakravyuh ki rachna mein
fark hi na padega

marun ya maarun
maara jaoon ya jaan se maardun
iska faisla kabhi na ho paayega

soya hua aadmi jab
neend se uthkar
chalna shuru karta hai
tab sapno ka sansar use
dobara dikh hi na paayega

us roshni mein jo nirnay ki roshni hai
sab kuchh samaan hoga kya?

ek palde mein napunsakta
ek palde mein paurush
aur theek taraazu ke kaante par
ardh satya

happy, happy, happy

2005-11-07T03:38:00.000+05:30

"In that direction," the grinning cat said, waving its paw round, "lives a Hatter: and in that direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March Hare. Visit either if you like: they're both mad."
"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said that Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here. By-the-bye, what became of the baby?"
"It turned into a pig," Alice answered very quietly.
"I thought it would," said the Cat, and vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end on the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.
"Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin," thought Alice; "but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing!"

Apparently...

2005-11-07T03:26:00.000+05:30

Aanchal, you're a Golden Retriever!

No bones about it, you're a popular, fun-loving Golden Retriever. Adored by all and too cool for school, you're extroverted and enthusiastic. Your magnetic personality makes you the life of any bash. Since you're a true people-dog, you genuinely love all kinds of social gatherings. Going to parties, dinners, and other shindigs is the best way to add faces to your constantly growing circle of friends. But besides being on the social A-list, you're a confident, well-rounded pup who's definitely something to bark about. Pretty accomplished at anything you set your mind to, your sunny nature and winning ways make you one of everyone's favorite dogs. Woof!

The Accidental Elephant

2005-11-07T02:50:00.000+05:30

...is a lovely new blog with children's poetry and illustrations. :)

I'M BACK!

2005-11-07T02:47:00.000+05:30

...to stay! :)

The reason for my long-drawn absence was a mixture of nothing much to write about and having got a life. But, like I said...
I'm back!

Today:

Went to Blogger's Meet at the (supposedly quieter!) Barista Creme. Other bloggers in attendance: River, TTG and Vulturo, and a sweet guy called James (who I hear was there since 4:30 p.m.!). We talked and had nice coffees.
More on today's Blogger's Meet: Here and here.

Went back to Majnu ka Tila (after ages!) for some Beef Chilli and Tingmos and Shabhaklep. Was nice as always.

Contemplated going to Blues for a long overdue glass of Don't Dig It, but decided against it.

Came back home, played with Xena some, made a firm resolve to get back to blogging.

2005-11-03T00:38:00.000+05:30

A very nice poem here.

P.S.: I shall be back soon.

2005-09-12T01:09:00.000+05:30

Aisi nazar se dekha us zaalim ne chowk par...
humne kaleja rakh diya chaaku ki nok par...

....meri angdaai na toote tu aaja...

Love the feeling of being in love
...constantly.
(Yes, Mom. It feels great. I know. :) )

Love how one person seems like the world for a moment. Love how no one else comes even close...hasn't come even close...for more than three years now. Love how it just doesn't seem like three years.

"Three years?? Really?!! It's been that long?"

"Three years? It's just been three years?"

Love how three years sometimes seems like such a long time, but it feels like much lesser.

Love the feeling of getting to know someone. Everyday. More and more.

The biggest lie you ever told,
your deepest fear about growing old,
the longest night you ever spent,
the angriest letter you never sent,
the boy you swore you'd never leave,
the one you kissed on New Year's Eve,
the sweetest dream you had last night
your darkest hour, your hardest fight...

....The saddest song you ever heard,
the most you said with just one word,
the loneliest prayer you ever prayed,
the truest vow you ever made,
what makes you laugh, what makes you cry,
what makes you mad, what gets you by,
your highest high, your lowest low - these things I want to know....

:) I feel happy. Constantly.
...Well, almost. :)

Optical Illusions - I

2005-09-08T10:00:00.000+05:30

A skull...
or a woman in front of a mirror?

One old man...
or two people?

Gaaaarfield!!

2005-08-23T11:29:00.000+05:30

I love Garfield!
...Even more so since I've had Xena. Cats are all so like Garfield! :D

This is the first Garfield strip that Jim Davies made. It was published on the 19th of June 1978.

This one here was when Odie appeared for the first time - on the 9th of August 1978.

This, here, was the first time that Pooky made an appearance. The 23rd of October 1978.

And, this is today's Garfield strip:

Beauvoir...Sartre...

2005-08-22T03:14:00.000+05:30

"Our relationship was the greatest achievement of my life"

But did Simone de Beauvoir's scandalous open 'marriage' to Sartre make her happy, asks Lisa Appignanesi

Friday June 10, 2005
The Guardian

The Bogart and Bacall of existentialism ... De Beauvoir and Sartre in 1946.

'Women, you owe her everything!" So read the headline announcing Simone de Beauvoir's death in April 1986. It was a phrase repeated over and over at her funeral, where some 5,000 mourners gathered to pay tribute to the writer many consider the greatest French woman of the 20th century, author of The Second Sex, mother of the modern women's movement. De Beauvoir's ashes duly found their place next to those of Jean-Paul Sartre, her partner in life, though never in marriage. He had died six years almost to the hour before her, and her last book, Farewell to Sartre, was the only one he had never read prior to publication.

De Beauvoir had declared that whatever her many books and literary prizes, whatever her role in the women's movement or as an intellectual ambassador championing causes such as Algerian independence, her greatest achievement in life was her relationship with Sartre - philosopher, playwright, philanderer, born 100 years ago this month.

There is something mysterious in De Beauvoir's insistence. Given Sartre's other liaisons, and that this was the height of the women's movement, it seems to fly in the face of common sense. Yet the Simone who had flouted convention in the 20s by entering into an open liaison with an ugly, charismatic young unknown was not about to conform to expectations.

Whether we agree with her own startling assessment or not, it's clear that De Beauvoir was neither lying nor, as some misogynist commentators have argued, simply writing herself into a life more important than her own. After all, for 51 years, whether they were living close to one another or apart, she edited and, as Sartre himself put it, "filtered" his work, which he dedicated to her (some have ventured that, on occasion, she wrote it too). For 51 years, the conversations between them created ideas, books, and a bond which other passions enraged or enriched, but never altogether ruptured. It was, for De Beauvoir, an experiment in loving of which "existentialism" was the child.

When I was growing up in the 60s, Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre were a model couple, already legendary creatures, rebels with a great many causes, and leaders of what could be called the first postwar youth movement: existentialism - a philosophy that rejected all absolutes and talked of freedom, authenticity, and difficult choices. It had its own music and garb of sophisticated black which looked wonderful against a cafe backdrop. Sartre and De Beauvoir were its Bogart and Bacall, partners in a gloriously modern love affair lived out between jazz club, cafe and writing desk, with forays on to the platforms and streets of protest. Despite being indissolubly united and bound by ideas, they remained unmarried and free to engage openly in any number of relationships. This radical departure from convention seemed breathtaking at the time.

De Beauvoir wrote about this in the autobiography she began to publish in the late 50s, after the scandalous success of her exposé of being female, The Second Sex, and her Goncourt prize-winning novel, The Mandarins, where she chronicles, among much else, her postwar affair with the American novelist Nelson Algren, whom she left in order to return to Sartre, abandoning passion for public responsibility.

De Beauvoir and Sartre met in 1929 when they were both studying for the aggregation in philosophy, the elite French graduate degree. De Beauvoir came second to Sartre's first, though the examiners agreed she was strictly the better philosopher and at the age of 21 the youngest person ever to have sat the exam. But Sartre, the future author of Being and Nothingness, was bold, ingenious, exuberant in his youthful excess, the satirical rebel who shouted, "Thus pissed Zarathustra" as he hurled water bombs out of classroom windows.

Sartre was the pampered son of a widowed mother. Educated in French and German by his pedagogue grandfather, the young Sartre, diminutive, wall-eyed, was corresponding in alexandrines by the age of 10 and something of an outcast at his provincial school. By the time he returned to Paris, he had learned to make up for his physical lacks by the sheer force of his personality. De Beauvoir was captivated by the intensity with which he also listened.

The young Sartre already saw himself as a Don Juan, a seducer who ruptured outworn convention, and whose presence revealed things in their fundamental light. Seduction and writing, he believed, had their source in the same intellectual process.

Late in life, he admitted that he had fantasised a succession of women for himself, each one meaning everything for a given moment. De Beauvoir had astonished him by agreeing to the experiment he had outlined. She accepted the freedom he insisted on and became its custodian.

"What we have," he said early on to De Beauvoir, "is an essential love; but it is a good idea for us also to experience contingent love affairs." Recording Sartre's proposal, De Beauvoir writes: "We were two of a kind, and our relationship would endure as long as we did: but it could not make up entirely for the fleeting riches to be had from encounters with different people."

It is difficult to underestimate the sheer adventurousness of this pact forged in 1929. Particularly on De Beauvoir's side, the break from accepted norms was monumental, as was the social stigma. For De Beauvoir, Sartre seemed only to be repeating what, from her father's example and bourgeois practice, she understood as a male prerogative. What was different about their relationships was that she, the woman, would be equally free to engage in other affairs. Then, too, there was Sartre's important dictum of "transparency" - the vow that they would never lie to each other the way married couples did. They would tell each other everything, share feelings, work, projects.

Yet in this lifelong relationship of supposed equals, he, it turned out, was far more equal than she was. It was he who engaged in countless affairs, to which she responded on only a few occasions with longer-lasting passions of her own. Between the lines of her fiction and what are in effect six volumes of autobiography, it is also evident that De Beauvoir suffered deeply from jealousy. She wanted to keep the image of a model life intact. There were no children. They never shared a house and their sexual relations were more or less over by the end of the war, though for much of their life and certainly at the last, they saw each other daily.

With the posthumous publication in 1988 of her letters to Sartre, a good proportion of them written during the war years when he was at the front and then a prisoner, gaps that were left out of the autobiography are filled in. What the letters express is not only De Beauvoir's overarching love for a man who is never sexually faithful to her, a man she addresses as her "dear little being" and whose work she loyally edits. They also underline the mundanity of De Beauvoir's early accommodation to his wishes, her acceptance of what many women would reject as demeaning, her dependence.

But this dependence is hardly simple or passive. It is a shared attachment from which power also comes - as De Beauvoir, in The Second Sex, shows it does for all women. From early on, Notre-Dame-de-Sartre, as the wits dubbed her, organises the comings and goings of Sartre's "contingent" women; she encourages, consoles, manipulates, and continues to do so until the very end for that loose grouping of friends and exes they called their "family". With a few exceptions, she performs whatever Sartre at the Front asks of her, including finding money for him, or having an affair.

The voyeuristic narration of the details of sexual passion for the other's entertainment, the ups and downs and seamy manoeuvres of these relationships give Sartre and De Beauvoir the aura of a latter-day Valmont and Merteuil, planning and reporting on their dangerous liaisons, analysing assaults and retreats, and deliberating over the propaganda which is to surround them. On top of all this are De Beauvoir's lesbian pursuits and her sharing of Sartre's partners. Bluestocking she might have been, but De Beauvoir was never averse to taking hers off, and then letting Sartre know.

It would be easy to condemn Sartre and De Beauvoir, to dismiss their sex lives as squalid and find therein reason to undermine their intellectual or political projects. This would be to miss the great edifice that De Beauvoir constructed out of their mutual experiment in living; the often gruelling honesty they both brought to bear on each other; and the ways in which the living and changing organism that was their partnership shaped both their philosophical writings and their fiction. It was clear to De Beauvoir that Sartre was a great thinker: thought needed tending. Happiness, that state she claimed she had a talent for, was not the point.

Then, too, there may be another very good reason why De Beauvoir thought her relationship was her greatest achievement. The Second Sex is her encyclopaedic and shocking account of woman's condition as "other" in a world where the norm, with all its overarching and defining power, was male. The book analyses how women have been made over in a world of male descriptions, the contortions performed in order to draw something from the secondary role, the mutilation, the pain. In the experiment of her relationship with Sartre, De Beauvoir took over the power of description. She writes him in and through her life. Maybe that was partly what she meant by her greatest achievement - alongside a generous love, respect and abiding loyalty.

· Lisa Appignanesi's biographical portrait of Simone de Beauvoir is published by Haus on June 21, price £9.99. To order a copy with free UK p&p, call the Guardian Book Service on 0870 836 0875, or go to www.guardian.co.uk/bookshop.

2005-08-21T17:01:00.000+05:30

Ma and the two brats - my grandmother with my cousins - Siya and Ketaki

2005-08-21T16:54:00.000+05:30

Nicole and Rachel - On their last day in India

2005-08-21T16:31:00.000+05:30

(Not-so-)Little Candy

2005-08-21T14:32:00.000+05:30

"Madam, you have between your legs an instrument capable of giving pleasure to thousands - and all you can do is scratch it."

- Sir Thomas Beecham
(to a cellist - attributed)

2005-08-20T08:40:00.000+05:30

:) Happy Birthday, Naani! :)

...wish I could go to D'dun and surprise her!

2005-08-20T01:08:00.000+05:30

And this...so true... :)

"People who are sensible about love are incapable of it." - Douglas Yates

2005-08-20T01:05:00.000+05:30

This way too...

"Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile." - Franklin P. Jones

2005-08-20T01:02:00.000+05:30

"Oh, I just wish someone would try to hurt you, so I could kill them for you." - Frank Sinatra

...Love makes me feel this way.

Of festivals...and the thought behind them

2005-08-19T12:12:00.000+05:30

Went home after 2 months this time. And, it was wonderful...and, dare I say, (at the risk of sounding like one of those Gucci-bag-toting aunties) "therapeutic". :)

Today's Rakhi a.k.a. Raksha Bandhan. Traditionally, a festival where sisters tie a thread on their brother('s/s') wrist, the idea being that she will always stand by him, and he will always protect her. Nice thought. But, why do people (other than my family...and possibly a few other families...hopefully a lot of other families) not think of this the other way around as well? Saahil has always tied a rakhi on my wrist, like I have on his. Well, why not? I'm older anyway. How in the world would it've worked if I'd needed protecting when he was just a year old?! I could protect him better for sure. And, why's this still interpreted as big-strong-brother protecting small-weak-sister?! I mean...hellooo! Why can't any festival...every festival...be understood and interpreted in a nicer, more progressive way? I've always loved Diwali for the lights and the dressing up, Christmas for the well...the Christmassy feeling, the red and green, the holly, the mistletoe, the Christmas trees, Santa, the stockings, the reindeers and the elves...the works...Eid for the luverly food...Easter for the nice chocolate Easter eggs...Dusshera for going to Ram Lila Maidan and seeing Ravan burn, and buying a Hanuman mask...and actually wearing it, and embarassing my brother...Holi...well, not one that I like..havent' played in years...Rakhi for the tradition...for the thought behind it...you tie it to everyone you love...Papa, Mom, Saahil...the dogs (well, they protect you, don't they?!)...everyone who you'd want rallying around you when you needed protecting...
All this makes the whole year so wonderful. It does. There's always some nice holiday coming up. Of course, they're all just leading up to the biggest holiday of the year...my birthday!!! :D (Another 4 months, 2 days to go!)

Festivals aren't about religion. They're about having fun, being together, dressing up, eating good food, drinking lots...and they're about the thought behind them.

2005-08-19T11:15:00.000+05:30

"All I really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." - Lucy Van Pelt

...An ode to my new-found sweet tooth.

"Sammy" - A word that broke an empire

2005-08-19T11:11:00.000+05:30

Watched an excellent play today. Called Sammy.

Written by: Pratap Sharma
Original Music Score: Mahesh Tinaikar
Lighting Designer: Inaayat Ali Khan
Directed by: Lillete Dubey
The Cast:
Joy Sengupta – Mohan Gandhi
Ravi Dubey – Mahatma
Neha Dubey – Kasturba Gandhi
Anu Menon – Sarojini Naidu
Zafar Karachiwala – Jawaharlal Nehru
Vikrant Chatturvedi – Jinnah

That's Joy Sengupta as Gandhi and Neha Dubey as Kastoorba

Yes...so...after a break of 2 days...as I was saying...

Excellent play! I'd gone for a shoot, and everyone can see the story on Subah Savere tomorrow morning. True, that this was yet another play on Gandhi, but what was wonderful was that it wasn't like "yet another play on Gandhi"! What I liked best about it was that neither were any of the characters black or white, nor was the play. It had everyone's points of view - Gandhi, Nehru, Sarojini Naidu, Kastoorba Gandhi, Gandhi's eldest son (through a scene with Joy and Gandhi's inner voice), Jinnah, and even Nathuram Godse. I just loved that each character had the opportunity to give her/his reasons or explanations to what happened.

Another thing was that the play was so realistic. For once, like Lillete said, Gandhi was not a larger-than-life character who we are only meant to look up to. Instead, he was just an ordinary man, and the play traces the journey of a man who goes from being Mohandas to becoming the Mahatma. I just adored the scenes with Gandhi and Kastoorba. They were...so...personal maybe...intimate...real perhaps. And, Kastoorba's character was given as much emphasis as was Gandhi's. And, it was played wonderfully by Neha. I mean, this character had its own motivations, its own thought process that it goes through. As was Nehru's character, which was done by Zafar Karachiwala. There was this whole growing up in Nehru from being an Oxford returned "dandy" (?!), to being someone who didn't necesarily always agree with Gandhi, but was still inspired by him. Sarojini Naidu's dialogues were just so intelligently written. Anu's character uses words just like a poet like Sarojini would've.

And, in the whole play...there were...5-7 maybe...actors, with some of them playing multiple roles. And, it was so smooth. Full points to the lighting designer too! Also, I loved Zafar's accent as the South African officer! :)

Attn: Anvita
Now, these guys have had about 10 shows in Bombay already, and whenever they have the next one, you HAVE to watch it, woman! Seriously.

"Yes" and "No"

2005-08-12T00:50:00.000+05:30

This is something I'd heard on FM many, many years ago. In the days when it used to be "Times FM...yeahhh" :p (I wonder if anyone else remembers the "you're listening to Times FM...yeahhh" thing...it was HILARIOUS!)

I think it's very quaint and a little silly...and also kinda sweet in a way...
Found it written in an o-o-old diary of mine.

What I believe is that all girls should know,
When to say "yes" and when to say "no".
There are no textbooks and there are no rules,
The subject is neglected in orthodox schools.
"Yes" to flowers, "Yes" to a dance,
"Yes" to a flirt straight from France.
"Yes" to a walk in the beautiful rain,
"Yes" if he wants a chance to explain.
"No" to slacks unless you are thin,
"No" to an impulse to telephone him.
"Yes" to a Saturday, "No" to a Monday,
"Yes" to a salad, "No" to a sundae.
"No" to him if he has a wife,
"Yes" if you want him for the rest of your life.

Broken! Broken! Broken! Broken! Broken!

2005-08-10T10:41:00.000+05:30

I'm now convinced that there's something wrong with my left leg! Have an almost constant horrible hollow ache. It pains when I walk. It pains when I sit. It pains when I lie down.

AAAARGHHHHH!!!

Skype me!

2005-08-07T23:12:00.000+05:30

Something that EVERYONE should get! Correction: Must get!

Skype rocks! You can make PC-to-PC calls to any Skype user, as well as on normal telephones (...for which you need to buy a calling card though). Talked to Saahil all afternoon, and then to Arvind (...though there, only I talked, since the idiot doesn't have a mic!) :) And, it's so awesomely crystal clear!! YAY!!

My name on Skype is "aanchaltyagi". Add me as soon as you get it.

You can download Skype from here.

Today's mood: Broken!

2005-08-07T02:18:00.000+05:30

Got a b-a-a-a-a-d bodyache. Have had it for the last 2 days or so. Gonna have a Cetzine and s-l-e-e-e-e-e-p tonight. Write more tomorrow.

Hope Xena's sleepy too. Otherwise, will have to lock her up somewhere if I want to sleep without having my toes chewed off by morning.

Starry Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh and Don Mc Lean

2005-08-03T09:43:00.000+05:30

June 1889 (210 Kb); Oil on Canvas, 72 x 92 cm (29 x 36 1/4 in); The Museum of Modern Art, New York

The Starry Night was completed near the mental asylum of Saint-Remy, 13 months before Van Gogh's death at the age of 37. Vincent's mental instability is legend. He attempted to take Paul Gaughin's life and later committed himself to several asylums in hopes of an unrealized cure.

Van Gogh painted furiously and The Starry Night vibrates with rockets of burning yellow while planets gyrate like cartwheels. The hills quake and heave, yet the cosmic gold fireworks that swirl against the blue sky are somehow restful.

This painting is probably the most popular of Vincent's works.

Don Mc Lean's lyrics:

Starry
starry night
paint your palette blue and grey
look out on a summer's day
with eyes that know the
darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills
sketch the trees and the daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They would not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry
starry night
flaming flo'rs that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent's eyes of China blue.

Colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's
loving hand.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They did not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you
but still your love was true
and when no hope was left in sight on that starry
starry night.
You took your life
as lovers often do;
But I could have told you
Vincent
this world was never
meant for one
as beautiful as you.

Starry
starry night
portraits hung in empty halls
frameless heads on nameless walls
with eyes
that watch the world and can't forget.

Like the stranger that you've met
the ragged men in ragged clothes
the silver thorn of bloddy rose
lie crushed and broken
on the virgin snow.

And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they're not
list'ning still
perhaps they never will...

The words and imagery of this song represent the life, work and death of Vincent Van Gogh. "A Starry Night" is one of the Dutch impressionist's most famous paintings.

The lyrics "paint your palette blue and gray" reflect the prominent colors of the painting. The "ragged men in ragged clothes" and "how you tried to set them free" refer to Van Gogh's humanitarian activities and love of the socially outcast as also reflected in his paintings and drawings. "They would not listen/They did not know how" refers to Van Gogh's family and some associates who were critical of his kindness to "the wretched." "How you suffered for your sanity" refers to the schizophrenic disorder from which Van Gogh suffered.

Yaad by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

2005-08-02T22:38:00.000+05:30

Dasht-e-tanhaai mein ae jaan-e-jahaan
larzan hain
teri awaaz ke saa'e, tere honton ke
sarab
dasht-e-tanhaai mein doori ke
khas-o khak ta'le
khil rahe hain, tere paihloo ke
saman aur gulab

uth rahi hai kahin qurbat se teri
saans ki aanch
apni khushboo mein sulagti hui
madham madham
door ufaq par, chamakti hui qatrah
qatrah
gir rahi hai teri dildar nazar ki
shabnam

is qadar pyaar se, ae jaan-e-jahaan
rakha hai
dil ke rukhsaar pe is waqt teri yaad ne
haath
yoon gumaan hota hai, garche'h hai
abhi subh-e firaq
dhal gaya hij'r ka din, aa hi gayi vas'l
ki raat

Today's mood: Happy!

2005-07-29T01:06:00.000+05:30

Talked to Mom last night...about the crabbiness...and what she says is right...I'm surprised I didn't think of it myself...
Why do I mostly expect everyone I know to be on the same wavelength as me? Why don't I feel great about all the really nice people and things at work (and around me) and forget about the rest...and just get my job done? I'm over all the crabbiness anyway. Knew I'd get over it soon enough. Think I'll just blame the "cultural shock".

Had a nice time this evening. :)

Today's mood: Happy...and it's staying this way now. :)

A Strange Problem by Kunwar Narain

2005-07-27T01:58:00.000+05:30

Got my salary today! And just treated myself to a subscription to The Little Magazine.

Was reading the online edition just now, and read this poem which I think is really nice. It's been translated from Hindi by Pratik Kanjilal, and was originally written by Kunwar Narain.

I have a strange problem these days —
The power to hate with all my heart
Is ebbing by the day

I want to hate the English
(They ruled us for two centuries)
But Shakespeare sidles up
To whom I owe so much

I want to hate the Muslims
But Ghalib stands before me
Tell me, is it possible to stand up
To him?

I want to hate the Sikhs
And Guru Nanak fills my vision
And my head is bowed

And this Kamban, this Thyagaraja, this
Muthuswamy…
A hundred thousand times I tell myself
They are not mine
They’re from some place far South
But the heart does not rest
Till they are made mine

And that lover
Who betrayed me the first time
I’d as soon kill her as look at her!
I do see her, but
Sometimes she is a friend
Sometimes a mother
Often like a sister
And I drink from the cup of love, and am still

All my days
I wander like a madman
In search of someone I can
Hate with all my heart
And ease it for a while

But precisely the opposite happens
Somewhere, sometime
I find someone
I cannot help but love

Day by day, this disease of love is growing
Rooted firmly in the fantasy
That one day my love
Will show me Paradise

Today's mood: Crabby

2005-07-26T20:54:00.000+05:30

Long time since I wrote. Have been trying to, but just can't somehow. Put this new thing on my blog called "Today's Mood". Quite cool, I think. Today, I'm crabby. Actually, wasn't in the morning. These days I get crabby as soon as I reach office. I keep telling myself on the rickshaw ride to work that I won't let things get to me today, but I still end up getting all bugged. And no, it's not really the work. (Though, I wish the film would take off quickly.) It's more the people, and the constant sarcasm and the sexist jokes. No, the jokes don't happen when I'm there, but they do go on all the time, and...oh, it's SO IRRITATING!

Although (clarification needed), it's not everyone. It's just a couple of people. The rest are nice. Really nice.

I know I gotta do something. Just don't know what.

In the meanwhile...for some reason, been thinking of these lines all day...

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

- William Blake

I tag you, River!

2005-07-25T23:45:00.000+05:30

That bugging questionnaire I was tagged with...well, I'd tagged Gourav, but he still doesn't have a blog...hence...
You're tagged, River!

Which Emoticon Are You?

2005-07-25T09:26:00.000+05:30

Aanchal, the emoticon that represents you best is the Smiling Face

What's up, smiley? Somehow you just always seem to find a way to turn that frown upside down. Your upbeat attitude and friendly demeanor brighten up any room, including your favorite chat room.

Like your classic emoticon counterpart, you're a staple on anyone's list. Boring days and sleepless nights are far more bearable when you're online to chat. Whether you're shooting the breeze, catching up, or giving out advice, you can cheer up anyone on the other side of the conversation. So keep lightening the mood, making new friends, and bringing smiles to other folks' faces. After all, it's just so natural for you!

Papa's Birthday Present

2005-07-22T02:12:00.000+05:30

Yes, this is it! The famous gramophone that Saahil and I got Papa for his birthday!

Thanks, Anvita and Tanzila...for trekking through Chandani Chowk and Dariba Bazaar hunting for an actual antique piece...and not the "new antiques" that you get at Janpath. :)

Mom

2005-07-22T01:56:00.000+05:30

Mom (caught mid-sentence), me and the Brat (posing as always!).

Brat!

2005-07-22T01:42:00.000+05:30

And while I'm at it...here's me with the Brat.

Blogger

2005-07-22T01:34:00.000+05:30

Yours truly with the newest blogger in blogosphere...my Dad! :)

Post Script to the last post:

2005-07-20T09:20:00.000+05:30

Papa, you got a blog too now. Welcome, blogger! And, you're tagged! :-D

My Dad's blog, ladies and gentlemen... The Travels and Adventures of Thor.

Tagged!

2005-07-18T22:52:00.000+05:30

I was tagged by Anvita...so here goes...and remember what it said on your going away party cake?...that's what you are, woman!

Three names I go by:

Aanchal
Ant (??!!)
Her Royal Airness (...due to the famous "airhead mode")

Three screen names:

Aanchal
Aanchal Tyagi
Magic (I know, I know...dumb screen name...in my defence...I was 15!!)

Three things I like about myself:

That I'm so much like Mom.
That I'm nice to people...mostly.
That I'm quite intelligent, and can be rather good at whatever I set my mind to (...except at maths, physics and chemistry!).

Three things I don't like about myself:

Lazy
Impatient with people who act/are stupid (...and yes, Anvita...I kinda like that about myself too).
That I can't really talk with someone I've just met

Three things that scare me:

Horror films...and they scare me not just in the way that they scare most people...they freak me out..for years!!
That my computer will crash one day, and I'll have no back-up!
Fire

Three essentials:

A wonderful childhood...like I've had.
Hope.
A top-of-the-line computer with high-speed internet.

Three things I like in the opposite sex:

The fact that it is the "opposite" sex.
Lesser hang-ups about supposed morality.
Simple minds. Ha! Ha! Ha! *evil laughter*

Three things I want to do badly right now:

Write an amazing screenplay.
Go home for a few days.
Go on a really nice holiday...maybe to Kanataal.

Three careers I'm considering right now:

A film-maker.
An editor.
...and that's it...more the first option anyway.

Three places I'd love to go on vacation:

Morocco
Europe (...all of it...kinda makes answering this question easier!)
Kerala

Three kids' names I like and why:

Mihika
Kaahini (Anvita, that's what happens when you tell people! Ha!)
Ankush

...because all three sound lovely and/or mean lovely things.

Three things to do before dying:

Stay happy, love, and be loved...always.
Make films.
Bring up great kids (...like my parents did!)

Three people to get to do this wonderful questionnaire:

Arvind
Papa...but he doesn't have a blog yet.
Gourav...and he doesn't have a blog either.

Finished! Whew!!

Sehar - Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Kabir Kaushik

2005-07-12T00:16:00.000+05:30

Met Kabir Kaushik this evening. He's the director of Sehar. Interesting guy...really. The film ought to be nice. And it's got quite an impressive cast - Pankaj Kapoor, Suhasini Mulay, Arshad Warsi and Sushant Singh. Mahima Chaudhary too. Releasing on the 29th of July.

What I like a lot about Kabir (and, by default, about Sehar as well) is that the name of the film's been taken from one of my favourite poems of Faiz. And this poem is also a part of the film...which just makes the film even better. This poem's called Subh-e-aazaadi, and Faiz had written it in August 1947. Here it is...

ye daaG daaG ujaalaa, ye shab_gaziidaa sahar
wo intazaar thaa jis kaa, ye wo sahar to nahii.n

ye wo sahar to nahii.n jis kii aarazuu lekar
chale the yaar ki mil jaayegii kahii.n na kahii.n
falak ke dasht me.n taro.n kii aaKharii ma.nzil
kahii.n to hogaa shab-e-sust mauj kaa saahil
kahii.n to jaa ke rukegaa safinaa-e-Gam-e-dil
jawaa.N lahuu kii pur-asaraar shaaharaaho.n se
chale jo yaar to daaman pe kitane haath pa.De
dayaar-e-husn kii be-sabr Khwaab-gaaho.n se
pukaratii rahii.n baahe.n, badan bulaate rahe
bahut aziiz thii lekin ruKh-e-sahar kii lagan
bahut qarii.n thaa hasiinaan-e-nuur kaa daaman
subuk subuk thii tamannaa, dabii dabii thii thakan

sunaa hai ho bhii chukaa hai firaq-e-zulmat-e-nuur
sunaa hai ho bhii chukaa hai wisaal-e-ma.nzil-o-gaam
badal chukaa hai bahut ahl-e-dard kaa dastuur
nishaat-e-wasl halaal-o-azaab-e-hijr-e-haraam
jigar kii aag, nazar kii uma.ng, dil kii jalan
kisii pe chaaraa-e-hijraa.N kaa kuchh asar hii nahii.n
kahaa.N se aaii nigaar-e-sabaa, kidhar ko gaii
abhii chiraaG-e-sar-e-rah ko kuchh Khabar hii nahii.n
abhii garaani-e-shab me.n kamii nahii.n aaii
najaat-e-diida-o-dil kii gha.Dii nahii.n aaii
chale chalo ki wo ma.nzil abhii nahii.n aaii

What really angers me right now is this review...

"Pankaj Kapoor lends his atmospheric voice to "Faiz". The whole piece may only be a minute long but it is effectively powerful and very striking. Kapoor breathes life into Swanand Kirkire´s Urdu words, "Yeh daag daag ujaala, yeh shabgazeeda sehar...” After his picturesque words for"Parineeta", Kirkire is emerging as a very promising lyricist."

Some idiot called Shahid Khan thinks he's qualified enough to review an album, and he isn't aware that "Faiz" is actually Faiz Ahmed Faiz - the man who wrote "Yeh daag daag ujaala, yeh shabgazeeda sehar...", and which, by inference, WASN'T written by Swanand Kirkire!

Here, I'd like to say...again...as I'd said in this post...
"about 90% of all people are plain stupid, and one should get around their stupidities and get one's own work done."
I believe that, but this still makes my blood boil!

MIT Weblog Survey

2005-07-07T15:53:00.000+05:30

Bol Ke Lab Aazaad Hain Tere by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

2005-07-06T01:16:00.000+05:30

Ayodhya attack: Six terrorists killed
Tuesday, July 5, 2005 (Ayodhya):

Six terrorists today made an abortive attempt to storm the high-security Ram Janmabhoomi complex in Ayodhya.

All six of them were shot dead in a one and a-half hour encounter with the security forces guarding the complex.

There has been no damage to the make-shift shrine at the religious site.

The attackers had hired a taxi on the pretext of doing sight seeing around Ayodhya. Once in the car, they forced the driver away from the wheel and took control.

Breaching the wall

The driver, hired by the terrorists, is alive and has been arrested. He told the police that the terrorists had claimed to be tourists and even prayed at a temple before the attack.

On reaching the temple complex, one of the terrorists drove an explosives-laden jeep to the outer fence and blew up the jeep and himself. The other five then ran in firing their guns and setting off grenades.

They stopped by the security personnel at the Sita Rasoi, outside the periphery of the disputed site. The CRPF engaged the militants in a gunbattle, at the end of which all six militants were killed.

"After the blast, there was an opening through which the terrorists entered. That is when the CRPF got alert and retaliated," said Jyoti Kumar Sinha, director general, CRPF.

One unidentified person was killed in the crossfire while three security personnel were injured.

The terrorists were carrying AK 47s and grenades. The bomb-disposal squads called in to comb the area found rocket launchers as well. The CRPF, which led the operation, says one of the dead militants was a human bomb.

Late in the evening, police found another jeep hired by the terrorists to travel from Akbarpur to Faizabad. The driver has been arrested.

Cabinet meet

Later the Union Home Minister Shivraj Patil briefed the Union Cabinet on the terrorist attack in Ayodhya.

Intelligence reports so far indicate that Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) could be behind the attack.

In view of the incident, a red alert has been sounded in state capitals across the country.

This is the first terrorist attack on the disputed complex, since the makeshift temple came up after the demolition of Babri masjid in December 1992.

Locals calm

However, the real eye opener after today’s attack was the attitude of the people of Ayodhya, where not one communal clash was reported.

Shops and small businesses were open as usual - a sign perhaps that the people of the town can be more level-headed than many of our political parties.

So said today's news...

So, the locals are calm. Why then would the BJP want to call a "nation-wide protest against the terrorist attack"?! Political motivations I understand...but not an IOTA of integrity either? What the hell are they thinking?!! WHY in the world would they get the whole country into something that's thankfully (for once!) not been made into a queston of religion...yet?!! Why can't these men, of the RSS and the BJP, think of the country...just for once?!!

bol ke lab aazaad hai.n tere
bol zabaa.N ab tak terii hai
teraa sutawaa.N jism hai teraa
bol ki jaa.N ab tak terii hai
dekh ke aaha.ngar kii dukaa.N me.n
tu.nd hai.n shole surKh hai aahan
khulane lage quffalo.n ke dahaane
phailaa har ek zanjiir kaa daaman
bol ye tho.Daa waqt bahot hai
jism-o-zabaa.N kii maut se pahale
bol ki sach zi.ndaa hai abb tak
bol jo kuchh kahane hai kah le

[sutawaa.N=well built; aaha.ngar=blacksmith; tu.nd=sharp (here it means bright);]
[aaha.ngar=black-smith; quffalo.n ke dahaane=keyhole]