Facts n Fiction

Mr. Munnabhai Dutt is on a verbal rampage and I am surprised that neither the Congress nor the BJP is even attempting to exploit on this opportunity to make it a national debate. Sanjay Dutt has repeatedly, since last couple of days, tried to communalise things during the election heat. He is trying to woo the Muslim votes and use it for the benefit of Samajwadi Party. ‘When there were too many Muslims, the police caught up 5-10 Hindus and locked them up,’ is something that Sanjay Dutt said during his speeches. What kind of a message you are giving, Mr. Dutt? You being now a political figure, it becomes your duty that you help people instil their confidence in the legal and security system of this country, and not preach otherwise – I know I am wasting my time, but this bloody gussa does not go when every other day some or the other politician (wannabes and deep rooted) exploits democracy, molesting their right to speech. I am just scribbling away with an aching heart, mindless brain

Pundi was a happy small fish in the little pond surrounded by green slippery banks. The lush bustling trees around, often offered shade to the pond, thus providing a cool cosy environment to Pundi and his friends. Pundi played around merrily with his friends in the pond and at times took to some serious swimming lessons on his own and then teaching his friends. He could never master any though, yet he knew how a fish was supposed to know about swimming. His thirst to innovate and experiment always kept him restless. Even with his eyes closed, something went on his mind continuously. He dreamt of swimming the big seas, large oceans, and at times even flying; his friends laughed at this. You could drop Pundi anywhere in the pond and he would skilfully swim his way out, so adapted he was to his pond. He was happy about his skills in that little world, but at times the thoughts of learning new swimming styles and facing the tides disheartened him. Poor me! He thought. He often had roller c

My innocent attempt to deflate my frustration about the dirty politics that is going on in our country. Also, let me warn you that my Hindi can sometimes be as messy as the politics in our country ;-] Aaj tak toh vaade sabhi ney kiye Par yeh to dekho kisne kitne nibhaye Pakki sadakein, subsidised rashan pani Khokhle saare vaadein, jhoothi tassali Saanth saalon se buss yeh chala aa raha hai Aam aadmi ek pal ki khushi ko tarass raha hai Bane hai neta sabse vote kharid kharid kar Kisiko chand paise, toh kisiko bottle de kar Samasyaoon se bhara pada hai hamara desh Isse aur nichod rahe ye neta badal badal bhes Iss yudh mein dikthe sirf bhai, behen, beta Buss aapas mein hee ulajha aaj ka neta Arey desh ka, prajatantra ka kuch toh socho Apni jebe bharna bandh, pragati ka kuch karo Abb kuch hoga, iss aas mein nikalte paach saal Par aaj bhi udaas karta hai, iss raajniti ka sawaal Aur kitna kare intezar, uss neta ka bharosa Jisne har baar, har kadam par humey loota Kuch karo, yeh desh chilla ra

Interspersed with my busy work schedules (pun intended) and in between the swings to catch up the latest news, I finally (not for the quality but for the quantity of time I took) finished reading a good book. I have never written a book review before, this is my first attempt and I hope it comes out as wonderful as the book which I am going to talk about. Yes, there is a specific reason why only this book – I know the author personally and it indeed is a pleasure to write about someone whom you know so closely. I am rather confused what to start first – the book or the author, because I am so over enthused about having actually sat across (and at times besides – on different chairs, mind you) the author who has penned this book – “Three Shades of Green” . And who is the author? A nice beguile young lady, Manasa Rachapalli , the charm of whose reflects equally well in her book. Three Shades of Green is a collection of three short stories, each diverse in its own way, none following sa

50 days! I have been spinning in hectic schedules of work and a strenuous life of intermediate intensity. I have had hardly anytime to catch up with the news, especially at this time when elections are just around the corner. During all these frenzied days of my work life, I have terribly missed Karan (Thapar), Rajdeep, Arnab, and Udayan & Mitali (Mukherjees), of course. Yes, I did catch up with the Oscar ceremony and the hyped Slumdog jazz though. I am exhausted now. I tried to squeeze in some time yesterday to go through the recent political news (I wasn’t interested in what is happening to Kasab or was eager to know about India’s heroic cricketing triumphs). I pulled out some news archives from various websites, newspapers, and did watch news channels for whole three hours yesterday. I liked the oath taking Lead India 09 campaign, I liked Aamir’s representation to think better for this country in one another Lead India campaign, I loved the awareness and initiatives that Jaago

A R Rahman ’s win at the Oscar has enthused me till this day (it has nothing to do with Gulzar’s lyrics or Sukhwinder’s vocals or Danny Boyle’s Slumdog) , it is however, the pure respect that I have for that man and his music – soul searching indeed. The aura of that man (and in magic in his compositions) is itself very soothing, it kind of sends out some spiritual energy. I have lost the count of number of times I saw that Oscar winning moment on news/movie channels. However, apart from the event of that man holding the Academy Award, I was enchanted by one of his line in the acceptance speech, “All my life I have had the choice between love and hate, and I have chosen love... And I’m here” (or something like that, I may not be precise here, but the essence is intact). It could be only a person of Rahman’s spiritual vocation to have spontaneously thought of that line. I have been thinking about that line for many days now, the more I think, the more I have liked it, and it pushes me

26th January 2009, I was sitting at a coffee bar watching the Republic Day parade on a huge LCD television. A board next to the cash counter read, “A lot can happen over a coffee”. However, I saw nothing happening. There were only a few teenagers occupying the tables, but busy in their mobile mania – “Do you have this ringtone”, “I just bought this N96”, “Hey, see this video, real hot yaar” . I was getting irritated with this young India, they probably wouldn’t even that today is 26th January, our Republic Day, forget asking them the significance of this day. The coffee bar too glittered with its usual RED colour; I was hoping to see the tricolors on this day at least. The only people, who were enthused watching the Republic Day parade, were the waiters and the sweepers, and few street children who stuck their noses and bellies to the glass partitions from outside of the coffee shop. There it was, on one side I had the ‘over-privileged’ young India, and the ‘deprived’ younger India on