(December 31, 9:19pm)
Somehow I can't add pics on Blogspot.. So here is the link for all my readers.. A photo-Tale to tell... On my holidaying in Kashmir.. Do consider the captions!
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.347103338638811.109628.100000174424528&type=3
XXX
I have kept this album accessible for public!
XXX
A very Happy New Year to all of you!
Love, Peace, and Happiness await you in 2012!
XXX
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
(December 23, 6:36 pm)
It was December 23, 1992..I was young...very young..
but, the memories are clear like marbles..
Since the Gods knew our days were numbered, they had given me sharp memory. They needed to prove they were kind.
XXX
The Babri had just been pulled down, and anticipating the riots, we had left our sprawling cottage-house in Sultanganj, and moved to this place where Muslim population was thin..
Grandmum had tough time convincing mumma, who was above such things.. For her, the blood was red in every vein... interestingly, even the day we "fled" the place, she had summoned her Muslim driver and other guys for escort!
XXX
I despised the house...but since it offered me a view of the main road, from where i could keep a watch for mumma to return, i had agreed to it as periodic arrangement..
XXX
So, there i stood in that terrace that afternoon, under the radiant sun... my thoughts wandering as i looked aimlessly at the street below.."Look its almost four now, she said she'd come by 2," I told my brother annoyingly.. we had already played the ludo many times, and there was nothing new to do now..
XXX
Every year, after our schools had closed for winters on December 3rd or 4th, we waited desperately for 23rd to arrive..Mumma's last working day!
And with bro's b'de the next day, she'd hurriedly come back from college, dress us up, get us a brunch, and we'd be off for shopping...we bought the jackets, we bought the shoes..pairs of denims, santa caps, wind-cheaters..gloves and mufflers to match..story books, toys..the cake, the meat-balls...the list would be endless, because mumma, before she'd come to pick us up, would have encashed whatever was left in her bank that day..
XXX
23rd December 1992.
Bro still was waiting for mumma.
XXX
But, I was waiting for the culprit.
XXX
Light slowly began to fade, and darkness and despair set in like unsought guests..i was more and more sure she had failed us.. Yeah, she'd turn up, but without the money.,
Grannie had told me about our crisis only the previous day..how Mumma had first squandered everything, her arrears, her deposits, her NSCs...then indulged in relentless charity..and this magnanimity as if so intoxicating, she hadnt even bothered to draw her salary between..
XXX
So unless it was by a repertoire of magic, we wouldnt have any money for the year end (Her salary would come only on Jan 2nd, when the university reopened)..
Fingers crossed, we waited.
We prayed.
We implored upon the Gods to be kinder..
Else bro's birthday would be wasted.
Christmas too.
And my b'de, that fell on new year.
XXX
But she would not turn up. "Why is she taking so late. Is her salary credited. Why did she have to go looking for it the last day. why dint she draw it three months? And why did she spend all her money away?" I asked irritatingly.
"May be it's credited," bro suggested, not willing to give up.
"In that case she'd have come already."
"May be she is shopping," he tried to reason.
"Without us? No way." I dismissed.
XXX
And then with careless abandon to how it might upset him, I asked him again, "Will she come?"
"Not again," he stooped me midway.
"Will she..."
"Will she what," this time he didnt beat around the bush, "She is not dead. Nobody dies just suddenly. But if you believe she has, do it all to the Goddess, please."
XXX
He left.
XXX
I felt better. His outburst had somehow convinced me mom was not dead. So i was back the tyrant again. Awaiting the culprit.
XXX
It was a long wait.
The sun God bade me goodbye, and the moon came to befriend.
XXX
XXX
XXX
From the crossing, she appeared.. With grace in her walk, and a smile to beam...and with a kind of lovingness that in one second undid all the wrongs that i had been all this while listing..
XXX
Who'd say she had been so long into the 40s...
Except perhaps the laugh lines.
But, that appeared only when she laughed heartily.
XXX
I had warned her against that.
XXX
She was wearing the pure-silk saree.
It was finest silk. Grannie's testimony to mumma's indulgence.
XXX
The story goes that in the late 1960s, decent pure silks were available for Rs 120. The classy ones for 200. But if you wanted the bride-hunters do talking, you wore a 300..to upset would-be brides, a 350...and to left men gasping, a 500.
And upon such times, i am told, mumma had bought this sari for 900.
Even professors were paid 800 then, aunts had added.
XXX
To be continued....
XXX
It was December 23, 1992..I was young...very young..
but, the memories are clear like marbles..
Since the Gods knew our days were numbered, they had given me sharp memory. They needed to prove they were kind.
XXX
The Babri had just been pulled down, and anticipating the riots, we had left our sprawling cottage-house in Sultanganj, and moved to this place where Muslim population was thin..
Grandmum had tough time convincing mumma, who was above such things.. For her, the blood was red in every vein... interestingly, even the day we "fled" the place, she had summoned her Muslim driver and other guys for escort!
XXX
I despised the house...but since it offered me a view of the main road, from where i could keep a watch for mumma to return, i had agreed to it as periodic arrangement..
XXX
So, there i stood in that terrace that afternoon, under the radiant sun... my thoughts wandering as i looked aimlessly at the street below.."Look its almost four now, she said she'd come by 2," I told my brother annoyingly.. we had already played the ludo many times, and there was nothing new to do now..
XXX
Every year, after our schools had closed for winters on December 3rd or 4th, we waited desperately for 23rd to arrive..Mumma's last working day!
And with bro's b'de the next day, she'd hurriedly come back from college, dress us up, get us a brunch, and we'd be off for shopping...we bought the jackets, we bought the shoes..pairs of denims, santa caps, wind-cheaters..gloves and mufflers to match..story books, toys..the cake, the meat-balls...the list would be endless, because mumma, before she'd come to pick us up, would have encashed whatever was left in her bank that day..
XXX
23rd December 1992.
Bro still was waiting for mumma.
XXX
But, I was waiting for the culprit.
XXX
Light slowly began to fade, and darkness and despair set in like unsought guests..i was more and more sure she had failed us.. Yeah, she'd turn up, but without the money.,
Grannie had told me about our crisis only the previous day..how Mumma had first squandered everything, her arrears, her deposits, her NSCs...then indulged in relentless charity..and this magnanimity as if so intoxicating, she hadnt even bothered to draw her salary between..
XXX
So unless it was by a repertoire of magic, we wouldnt have any money for the year end (Her salary would come only on Jan 2nd, when the university reopened)..
Fingers crossed, we waited.
We prayed.
We implored upon the Gods to be kinder..
Else bro's birthday would be wasted.
Christmas too.
And my b'de, that fell on new year.
XXX
But she would not turn up. "Why is she taking so late. Is her salary credited. Why did she have to go looking for it the last day. why dint she draw it three months? And why did she spend all her money away?" I asked irritatingly.
"May be it's credited," bro suggested, not willing to give up.
"In that case she'd have come already."
"May be she is shopping," he tried to reason.
"Without us? No way." I dismissed.
XXX
And then with careless abandon to how it might upset him, I asked him again, "Will she come?"
"Not again," he stooped me midway.
"Will she..."
"Will she what," this time he didnt beat around the bush, "She is not dead. Nobody dies just suddenly. But if you believe she has, do it all to the Goddess, please."
XXX
He left.
XXX
I felt better. His outburst had somehow convinced me mom was not dead. So i was back the tyrant again. Awaiting the culprit.
XXX
It was a long wait.
The sun God bade me goodbye, and the moon came to befriend.
XXX
XXX
XXX
From the crossing, she appeared.. With grace in her walk, and a smile to beam...and with a kind of lovingness that in one second undid all the wrongs that i had been all this while listing..
XXX
Who'd say she had been so long into the 40s...
Except perhaps the laugh lines.
But, that appeared only when she laughed heartily.
XXX
I had warned her against that.
XXX
She was wearing the pure-silk saree.
It was finest silk. Grannie's testimony to mumma's indulgence.
XXX
The story goes that in the late 1960s, decent pure silks were available for Rs 120. The classy ones for 200. But if you wanted the bride-hunters do talking, you wore a 300..to upset would-be brides, a 350...and to left men gasping, a 500.
And upon such times, i am told, mumma had bought this sari for 900.
Even professors were paid 800 then, aunts had added.
XXX
To be continued....
XXX
(December 23, 6:04pm)
IN KASHMIR...
XXX
For the next four days........ will keep you updated..
Too excited to write or share anything at the moment.. you see this was such a childhood dream.... and this comes true on such a special day.. why, dint i tell you? anyway, i'll repost what i told you last year on December 23...
XXX
IN KASHMIR...
XXX
For the next four days........ will keep you updated..
Too excited to write or share anything at the moment.. you see this was such a childhood dream.... and this comes true on such a special day.. why, dint i tell you? anyway, i'll repost what i told you last year on December 23...
XXX
Monday, December 12, 2011
(December 12, 11:14am)
Finally, the ten thousandth hit.. When I started it, I never had cared for the numbers.. and perhaps that's why I never really shared this blog's id anywhere..
Still, i kept getting the pageviews somehow.. At first, I wasn't amused.. I thought this was intrusion.. I thought I wasn't able to write as effortlessly.. or at least as uninhibitedly.. but then, I started loving them.. felt comforted by them.. and gradually, unknowingly, started waiting for them..
XXX
Thank you everybody who followed my blog and made me feel surrounded, if not always special.. in some way, in some sense, that compelled me to write more often..
Thank you those who liked my posts.. and also those who didn't .. those who appreciated my craft, and those who thought otherwise... those who marveled along with me in my every outburst of joy, and also the ones who thought I was overboard..
Those who made their names apparent, and those who ensconced themselves under a more generic "anonymous"..
Those who felt for me, and those who thought I was obsessive..those who belittled my importance, and those who safeguarded it!
XXX
Your compliments, your comments... your love, your aversion.. all of that have in some sense inspired me to write.. inspired me to think.. and more importantly inspired me to retrospect, the greatest exercise for any writer I suppose!
XXX
Thank you everybody..
XXX
Finally, the ten thousandth hit.. When I started it, I never had cared for the numbers.. and perhaps that's why I never really shared this blog's id anywhere..
Still, i kept getting the pageviews somehow.. At first, I wasn't amused.. I thought this was intrusion.. I thought I wasn't able to write as effortlessly.. or at least as uninhibitedly.. but then, I started loving them.. felt comforted by them.. and gradually, unknowingly, started waiting for them..
XXX
Thank you everybody who followed my blog and made me feel surrounded, if not always special.. in some way, in some sense, that compelled me to write more often..
Thank you those who liked my posts.. and also those who didn't .. those who appreciated my craft, and those who thought otherwise... those who marveled along with me in my every outburst of joy, and also the ones who thought I was overboard..
Those who made their names apparent, and those who ensconced themselves under a more generic "anonymous"..
Those who felt for me, and those who thought I was obsessive..those who belittled my importance, and those who safeguarded it!
XXX
Your compliments, your comments... your love, your aversion.. all of that have in some sense inspired me to write.. inspired me to think.. and more importantly inspired me to retrospect, the greatest exercise for any writer I suppose!
XXX
Thank you everybody..
XXX
Saturday, December 10, 2011
(December 10, 11:58pm)
Thirtyeight more!
XXX
Ain't this childish?
But then thats good no.. a child's mind is still there... with its joys and sorrows... trust and worries.. gales of laughter and then long silences.. big excitement in little things!
XXX
There was a time, I'd keep counting the weeks while a Madhuri Dixit film ran in the cinema halls.. one, then two, then three.. five, six, seven.. once it was eight weeks, id be really happy.. they would print a "Glorious 50 days" in every newspaper!
Announcing that the film is a hit.. it happened that way then... in months...
Im feeling that same pulsating feel again.. one part of my mind is excited.. "Good Lord! It would be 10 thousand hits!"
XXX
The other mind feels inhibited.. "why do you have to write all that?" it keeps asking.. "And why do you have to keep feeling that feel?"
XXX
Com'on.. im not forcing it.. id be forcing, if i forcefully stop it.. but why? isn't a child's mind the best mind.. it chooses love over show.. trifle over the costly... long and powerful attachment over glamour or might!
XXX
Thirtyeight more!
XXX
Ain't this childish?
But then thats good no.. a child's mind is still there... with its joys and sorrows... trust and worries.. gales of laughter and then long silences.. big excitement in little things!
XXX
There was a time, I'd keep counting the weeks while a Madhuri Dixit film ran in the cinema halls.. one, then two, then three.. five, six, seven.. once it was eight weeks, id be really happy.. they would print a "Glorious 50 days" in every newspaper!
Announcing that the film is a hit.. it happened that way then... in months...
Im feeling that same pulsating feel again.. one part of my mind is excited.. "Good Lord! It would be 10 thousand hits!"
XXX
The other mind feels inhibited.. "why do you have to write all that?" it keeps asking.. "And why do you have to keep feeling that feel?"
XXX
Com'on.. im not forcing it.. id be forcing, if i forcefully stop it.. but why? isn't a child's mind the best mind.. it chooses love over show.. trifle over the costly... long and powerful attachment over glamour or might!
XXX
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
(December 6, 9:34pm)
Mom was doing the wardrobe in my dreams this morning... like she would every year, around December.. replacing summer clothes with woolen ones..
The house would be in a mess, until she had finished..
I personally thought that was an irritating task, and one needed to be really patient to do it.. She generally took whole of one evening... while we craved for dinner in a famished wait...
XXX
Mom was doing the wardrobe in my dreams this morning... like she would every year, around December.. replacing summer clothes with woolen ones..
The house would be in a mess, until she had finished..
I personally thought that was an irritating task, and one needed to be really patient to do it.. She generally took whole of one evening... while we craved for dinner in a famished wait...
XXX
Friday, December 2, 2011
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