I craved for your time and attention When I was alive
Now you are starving for a glimpse of me when I am gone
I longed  for this bit every day while I was breathing ,
 but here you are spending hours lamenting at my grave.

Life in its nude form was so beautiful ,
 You compelled  me  to embellish it with degrees and medals
adorn it with artificiality and then called it success.
measuring its worth In achievements, awards and rewards

If you told me that the silk and diamonds will stay back
Maybe I would have lived a little longer
Today I died rich , but my association with the riches ends here
I go back as a naked soul , just the learning for company
Leaving behind the cosmetically treated skin and hair
Burning the Gym and spa sculpted body to  ashes

Mother you should have reminded me  everyday the small secret of life
That I was born naked and I will be naked on my pyre too..
All the struggles I put into building estates and glass walls
Are laughing at me now while I turn uncomfortably in my 6/3 grave.

And there is no reversal from here !
Alas! All this knowledge shouldn't have just  come
from the dead in the  grave
Technically disconnected from the mortals.

Let's ask china if they can connect the dead with the alive for all the knowledge sharing 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Detachment...

Detachment...

Death came knocking
I turned back and looked at all the hard work I put in for years into accumulating all the material wealth, toiled day and Night for it , somehow wisely, I shrug it off and let it go, give up all of it in a single Moment!

Death is happy!

I turn to my husband sleeping next to me and wonder what would he do without me? For half of his life, I have been with him, who will care for him the way I do? Then I realize anyway one of us is going to leave before the other, little sooner or later, it's ok, he is a man and he can tend for himself.

Death is happy!

The thoughts moved on to son... Till an year ago, he did Not know how to Mix dal and rice or wash his undergarments, now he is managing most of the things on his own, in no time he will find a girl, he will find love and start his own life, someone Bright and beautiful will fill his house and life with all the nourishment a mother is capable of providing.

Death is happy!

I turn to the other side and look at the daughter who is 13. The first thing she does every day after coming from school is share her day at school over the phone. She cannot keep any secrets from me. Sharing her aims ambitions goals weaknesses, failures without any shame and guilt. She needs me to help her discover her beautiful side. She needs me to correct her, keep her motivated, to help her identify the real from the fake; she needs me till her core gets strengthened. She needs me for some more time...

I say no to death, and fight it off

I open my eyes with tears I can feel the wetness in my hair behind the ears. I turn to my left and right to see the man and daughter sleeping peacefully, drop a text to the son to check if all is ok and I try to go back to sleep ....
How it is possible to practice detachment, the world of women is her family her relations and emotions for them....
One should be given ample time before they are told to practice detachment!
One should be given long life to fulfill their responsibilities before being told to practice Detachment.

Love letter to my children
Dear son and daughter
this is my love letter to you in valentine’s month on a Sunday. I do not love anything on this earth as Much as I love you both.
My parents provided me with all the material comforts, good education, and social identity. I was brought up in prosperity in a conservative Orthodox environment.
Your dad gave me mental comforts, my space and freedom to fly and explore. Motivated me to create a self identity, live life on my terms. 
I tried to give you both the best of what I received from them.
You are my creations. Nothing on this earth can match the joy of creation. For that matter anything creative is unique, is beautiful in its own way. And so are you both.
If we take average life expectancy as 65 years, I will be done with 
2/3rd of my life in another 2 years, and then I will enter the last leg.
God willing I may live beyond that too. And I will do life style modifications to be around to see you grow, achieved, marry and I also have this wish to assist you in bringing up your creations.
Don't take the pressure of being, the top rankers, the top performers, too seriously. 
Just try to be a better person than u was yesterday. Take the liberty to experiment, try out things, but DO NOT REPEAT MISTAKES. There is nothing wrong in falling in love and it is not the end of the world if a relation doesn't work out. 
It is ok if you are not winning; it is ok if you are ditched, cheated or exploited. Learn a lesson and forget it. Don't keep the pain for too long in your heart. It will hurt you, not the one who gave you the pain.
Don't take the responsibility on behalf of anyone. 
No one will remember work place favors for Long, forget it, don't expect anything in return. 
Do not go out of the way to help colleagues or organizations. Protect self interest. There are no "to die for" friends. 
Make friends, trust them, share with them, but learn to keep few things only to yourself. When someone shares something with you and requests you to not share it with anyone, then take it to your grave, even in the weakest moment, do not reveal others secrets. Integrity will add strength to your character.
Live a conscious life. Keep a check on yourself. Keep a watch. Always be Aware of the situation you are in.
And do not waste life in a rat race. There is no top position, and no one can be on the top forever. There will be up's and down’s, it is very normal to have a bumpy life. 
I quote from my experience, life tests us by putting us into difficult situations, face them do not escape or look for shortcuts, endure the pain... The light on the other side of the tunnel will be bright and beautiful. Have faith, it will reward you. Believe me on this.
Newton’s third law is a gospel.
Love yourself, to be loved by others
Respect yourself, to be respected by others. 
Care for yourself, to be cared by others 
Pay attention to yourself, if you are seeking attention.
You are my extension, and I am proud of you.
Everything you do, there is a little bit of me in it. 
I will be alive in you, for others, even after I am gone.
It’s your choice, about how you want to project me, through you!
Love 
Amma

Daddy – My love for cricket.

1987 – World cup to 2017 champions trophy india vs. pak. 18/6/2017.

I was in class 6 or 7.
We were one of the few people in the colony to own a color TV.
Our living room was crowded, with children of all ages and uncles.
Kids were seated on a carpet specially laid for them on the floor. Most of them were boys, my brother’s friends from our colony and the neighboring colony too.
Uncles were all seated on the sofa and divan; dad arranged few folding chairs too in a row. The chairs were used both indoors and out indoors. Faded green color, rusted and corrugated in appearance, they filled every gap in the room. They appeared as interested as the living beings in cricket.

Mom was busy in the kitchen with her 2 assistants preparing snacks for around 40 of us. Dad was very demanding in food matters. He was a food connoisseur and a very good host. Mom wasn’t a great chef; he was very interfering in kitchen, actively giving her tips to enhance the taste of the food. She wasn’t very appreciative of his active participation in her domain. That evening too he read out a list of the items to be prepared and kept her engaged in the kitchen during the entire duration of match.
I was the daughter and not the wife, hence the privilege of sitting next to him in the hall in front of TV.
I was enjoying the festive atmosphere more than the match. In the second half while England was batting, all of them were cheering for Australia, boon and border were favorites and much heard names in school too. Dad explained every ball and every shot to me; he virtually walked me through the ground. My love for cricket was born on that day. Father was a champion during his days and brother too played a lot of good cricket. Wish he took up the sport seriously …. Dad made me keep an account of every ball and run by giving me a pen and book he divided a page into 2 columns, on the left hand side he made me write the number of balls remaining on the right hand side the number of runs required. To keep me engaged in the game he made me note down every run and ball.
When the match was over all of them were celebrating and I started discussing strategy of the game with dad. What England should have done to win the match…? MY LOVE FOR CRICKET WAS BORN ON THAT DAY , Through the game you introduced me to strategy making, to accounts, to planning, to success , to team work ……….. 
When I see the man and the daughter watch sports, I remember you so much dad, it’s a replay of our days together, you gave me love in different ways, you pampered me in uncommon ways…
I miss you dad, I wish I did a little more for you, watched a little more cricket with you, made you visit my home, watched cricket with you and my kids in my living room, wish they got a little more of you………. rest in peace dad, I promise to make every day of my life beautiful as a tribute to you, For this life is your blessing.………………….
_______________________________
Win tomorrows match for a billion people like my dad dear team INDIA 
2017 champions trophy final , india vs pakistan. 
18/06/2017

Ruminations of a doctor’s wife – life between Saturday to Monday.

In February, on our 23rd wedding anniversary I demanded a gift from the husband.

He said don’t ask me something I cannot give. I said you can, it is within your capacity.

He: if I can then I will for sure, just don’t be very demanding about my time.
I: I like kaikeyi, demand a vachan from dashrath maharaj i.e you that thy will stop working on Sundays. 
It has been 23 years , and this gift of yours will be the most precious one for me after our children. We never went on a holiday more than twice in last 23 years. Our children and I all the while tried to understand your ethical moral dilemmas about dividing the time between family and patients. We played the role of a good family for too long. Now it is your turn to play the role of a good husband /father.

He: but people are used to seeing me available on Sundays. It is very inconvenient for many of them to not find me on a Sunday

I: then what about our inconvenience / our suffering.

He: you are used to this life by now, why do you want me to change all of a sudden.

I: I haven’t been doing this happily, I was doing it out of compulsion, to see you happy, but I am tired of being good to you and to the world. It hurts me now to see you work so much. It hurts me more for you.

He: okay let me try to, I am not promising but I assure you I will withdraw Sunday work slowly.

I stick a notice everywhere in the centre that such and such doctor will not be available on Sundays from here on. And as assured he stopped going to work on Sundays.

The first Sunday break, he receives a couple of calls enquiring the reasons for non availability, he manages some reasons, and with great difficulty he utters a “NO”.

The festive atmosphere at home starts from Saturday evening extending up to Sunday midnight. Special meals are planned, small outings are scheduled. The father and children actually meet each other on a Sunday to Sunday basis. they catch up with weeks discussions….

I taunt him now saying

“see the world did not stop if you stopped working on a Sunday, we are not even falling short of money, most of your patients are not complaining either , none of your fears came true “ .

Look at your happiness when you can watch a match from first ball to the last ball, your happiness when you can sit with your friends on a Saturday evening for a musical adda.

In my 6 years of experience in health care, I can segment the patients into the below mentioned categories.

1) The rich and influential patients: they demand discount, early service, separate air conditioned waiting room, and more personal time with the doctor. For them the centers in town are a stop gap arrangement till they go to metros and visit big hospitals. (this category of people are usually our friends)
2) The poor patients: they pay the full bill amount; they find it awkward to ask for a discount. They feel intimated in Pvt. Setups. But in our centre it is a rule to extend discounts to anyone who cannot afford. 
3) The ailing and terminally ill: they are from middle class to poor background and they demand only quality service even if it is delayed by hours. They actually accept doctors as being equivalent to god. They value life more than anything else. they wait endless hours to hear doctor say “nothing to worry, all is well “ 
4) The fringe elements: They ask for discount by intimidation. They are easier to handle than the sophisticated 1st category people. The fringe elements accept the fact that they actual took a favor by asking for discounts, they in their hearts are thankful and ready to return the favor when required.

The 1st category of patients expresses their displeasure when we bump into them on a Sunday, for the non availability of services. ( I am not generalizing, just quoting from experience, ps : not applicable to everyone )

The rest of them greet him with a big humble hello and express happiness for their doctor enjoying a Sunday away from work. They introduce their families to him, and say few good things like how his timely diagnosis saved a life in their family. In Moments like this my heart swells with pride and I immediately go into a self introspection mode “am I doing anything wrong by holding him back on a Sunday ? “... and I ask him the same

He: its okay, you are giving a bit of my life back to me by enforcing the Sunday smash. More than you I am now looking forward to Sundays..

Sunday ….
She insisted that we accompany her on her 1st day to the dance class. It was a drive to the other end of the town. We agreed and dropped her with her teacher; she was going to stay there for 90 minutes. The man decided to go for a hair cut on the ground floor in the same complex and suggested I spend time in the ladies saloon next to his.
Left with no option I walked into the parlor. From the other side of the reception 2 girls welcomed me as if I am their long last friend. They had heavily done eyes, dark red lips and maybe they applied 10 layers of various creams, if I scrape the skin with a spoon I may get a bowl full of various potions.
Then started the mind game.
Mam what service are you looking for ? 
I said anything which will consume 1 hour
She: go for a hair spa, pedicure or manicure 
I: No I can oil, steam and wash my hair at home, scrub my feet, clean and cut my nails too.
They: looked at each other, ok mam then go for a facial.
I: fine, what all do you offer in non chemical, non steroid section. 
They: again looked at each other and offered gold, diamond facial the most expensive on their menu card... rs.5000/-
I: no, something within rs.1000
They: sarcastically, mam we start at rs.2000/-
left with no option, I accepted the rs. 2000 facial with a heavy heart.
They: But your skin looks tanned, please go for an anti tan pack or bleach before you start your facial, it is just rs.500 extra for the pack, but the results are going to be miraculous.
I: but this is my natural color, not tan. I drive from home to work, and sit in a sealed room for 12 hours, and drive home after sun set. doctors are suggesting that I expose my skin to sunlight as there is vitamin D deficiency, I am also on cholcalciferol for the same. 
They understood that I wasn’t an easy prey.
The massage girl escorted me to a chamber, gave me change, I was reluctant to wear a gown which was on 100 other woman before, I wasn’t sure if they wash them.
She started the process with massaging the cleanser into my skin
She: after wiping the cleanser “mam your skin has lot of dirt, look at this cloth
I: no issues go ahead
She: mam shall I apply the anti tan pack or bleach, to clean the dirt
I: no ……no means “NO” in Bachhan style
She: mam do you apply night cream
I: yes, boroline sometimes. 
She: as you are above 40 you should use anti wrinkle and anti ageing cream for night 
I : (imagining the son mocking me to death if I make attempts to hide my age by using creams even while sleeping, they wouldnt understand that it is for therapeutic purpose ) I shared with her that I use kajole's Olay during day time to avoid/hide fine lines and wrinkles.
She: no mam, you need special creams for your age, I will give you the best of the products that are suitable exclusively to your skin. By applying them you can just arrest ageing for a long time you are going to look younger than this..
I: I was tempted and asked for the price 
She: around rs.3000 for a pack of day and night cream
I did calculations mentally ; I can feed entire family the best quality walnuts and almonds for a month with the same amount, I refused her offer. 
I could sense her disappointment as the effort she was putting into massaging the cream onto my face was diminishing. I dint bother; I rushed out of that cabin as fast as I could.
Borrowed rs 2000 from the man who was waiting outside for me along with daughter who was slurping a Chocó bar,
I am usually polite with people, pay tips as much as I can, but I despised the girls so much for their force selling that I did not even thank them and stormed out of the parlor with a vow to never return back. I would wait for the daughter in the car reading a book, sipping homemade coffee the next week if she insists on my company.

In the car I was sulking about how women are fooled and frightened in the name of ageing, foolishly some of them become preys to the big ugly world of cosmetics.

daughter was taunting me mom no one can scrub smelly ripe bananas and papayas onto their skin the way you do. tomatoes , eggs, cucumbers, potatoes, honey , olive oil you don’t spare anything and u also force your homemade packs on me which is equally bad. Saloons are anyday better than your multani mitty base packs .
ohh dear girl I will have to knock some sense into your head about the harm steroids cause to our skin if we become slaves of the beauty products.

Karimul Haque is a tea garden worker who runs a 24*7 bike-ambulance service in Bengal's Jalpaiguri district. He ferries poor, ill and the aged, even pregnant woman(in emergency) to nearby hospitals on his bike-ambulance 24/7 . His wife and children too are engaged in the same. 
He was felicitated in siliguri for the award by doctors in a function organized by Mr. Sanjay Mukherjee of biomax pharma on 6/5/17 , karimul haque says that religion should be about saving humanity and not killing. All our wealth makes no sense if we cannot spend it on saving a fellow humans life. His mother died because he couldn’t reach her to hospital due to lack of transportation. 
The area he comes from i.e. Jalpaiguri has rough roads and to find an ambulance in case of an emergency is a dream for villagers. His bike-ambulance has helped over 3,000 villagers in the last few years. 
Reddy Healthcare Siliguri pvt ltd, did its miniscule bit by donating rs.50,000 to his kitty , to buy medicines for the poor and needy.
DR. Prem D Bhutia Museff tok the initiative along with sanjay da to felicitate him in siliguri.

He shared some funny tit bits from his life on Saturday
1) The day he received ph call from Delhi about being conferred with padma shri, he assumed that someone is calling him from Delhi to shift padma to a hospital; he was continually guiding the caller about shifting padma to nearby hospital as he cannot reach Delhi on time, and padma may need emergency treatment. The officer hung up the phone smiling to himself about the innocence of the man dedicated to his work.
2) the news about the award spread like wild fire in the town and as people were congratulating him for getting padma, his wife assumed that he fell for someone called as padma, initially she protested but later accepted padma assuming that she is a girl. She was pleasantly surprised when she was clearly explained about padma shri as an award for his services. 
3) he was seated next to virat kohli in rashtrapati bhavan, his reply to kohlis suggestion to work hard and get padma vibhushan next time was that “aap dhum lagake desh ke liye khelna aur jithana, hum tho apna kaam karte rahenge”
4) When he went to Lk advani and Raj nath singh to thank them by touching their feet, they suggested he never bend in front of anyone as he is honoured with padma award now. PM Narendra Modi called him by his first name and hugged him for his good work; he shared this small bit on the dais with little pride in his eyes. 
5) To Attend to the various calls he receives from national and international channels to make a documentary on his work, he has learnt to say “ thank you”, “ok”, “yes” and ”no”. He says he understands their message but he finds himself incapable of giving lengthy response in English. 
6) He shared that he went to Delhi to receive the award when people in his neighborhood donated him their clothes, and shoes, and he was attending this felicitation too, wearing donated clothes. He has been living on them forever. He spends whatever capital he has in service of the needy.

March 9, 2004, 3pm

March 9, 2004, 3pm : Mom and I were chatting about the jewellery mom brought for the baby, taking shape in my womb. We discussed about the impending parliament elections and she was stressed out about the timing of arrival of baby and elections coinciding. It was her dream to see dad in lok sabha. She was full of enthusiasm to discuss the developments in my personal life and dads work life. She said she will call me back after reaching secunderabad and hung up the phone. They were all ready and waiting for the driver. The driver did not report to duty on that day forcing daddy to drive. And that was the last time we had a conversation.
10.30 pm: The man was talking on the land line to a cousin. He passed on the ph to me and went inside to attend a call on his mobile ph. While I was on the land line he left home talking on the mobile. His body language was as if he is attending to some emergency. The unexpected call of the cousin and the man hurriedly running out of the house, instead of merrily chatting with cousin was an indication that all was not right. There is something happening which I was not aware of. 
I hastily disconnected the call, and went out to see who he was talking to and what he was hiding from me. I asked him, is everything alright? He said nothing much your parents met with an accident, I was talking to your maama, let’s go to Hyderabad tomorrow. 
I asked him bluntly, are they alive? I can handle, just tell me the truth.
He said yes very much...mom is unconscious but dad is fine, he is talking.
That night I packed more than the usual number of clothes, I could guess that all was not well back home. I did not prod him much about the accident as his eyes were full of compassion for me. We took the first flight to Hyderabad the next day, we reached Hyderabad around 9pm, I went to see mom first, and she was in deep sleep, oblivious to the surroundings. She had head injury and probably she is in coma, but she may come out of it soon is what my sis in law who is also a doctor told me with consolation.
Then I went to see dad. He was in the hospital gown. We looked into each other's eyes reassuringly that all will be ok soon. We did not cry , he asked about mom, I said she is fine , sleeping. He said I know you will manage everything and closed his eyes, maybe to shut the tear glands. I said yes you take rest I am going home, I will come tomorrow in the morning, to see you fresh and discuss our next move. 
We had long discussion the next week in the presence of rest of the family members about whether he should contest the elections or withdraw. I and the man were supporting him to fight with a hope that mom will wake up to see him in the parliament. 
3 generations in the family were a part of the struggle for separate telangana. This is the time and opportunity to stay on the ground and fight a democratic battle was the unanimous decision. Dad worked out a lot of strategy from the hospital bed and later from home while nursing his spinal injuries. Campaigning took a toll on his health, neck pain intensified, but he had no exit route. 
And for the next 2 months I was nursing comatose mother at home with the help of 3 trained sisters working in shifts, managing daddy's election fund, back office work with a 28 week baby in the womb and a 6 year old son for company, husband away at work. during the first pregnancy mother treated me like a princess who was expecting her first baby, and during the second one it was a role reversal.

From then on to 14th may, the date of results, I put everything I had at stake, health, wealth, energy, blessings, good will, to help daddy win the election. My maternal uncles stood by mom like 2 pillars, my mothers life’s earning was the love of her brothers. Apparently dad won the election but mother never came out of coma to see her dream come true, to celebrate his victory. The daughter arrived in next 10 days on 23rd may. Separate statehood for telangana was a big challenge and people voted TRS candidates to power for the same. I assured dad that I will take care of mom, and gave him a go-ahead signal towards new delhi. I stayed with mom for an year; later dad insisted I join the man as he was feeling guilty of keeping children away from their father for over an year. I handed over Mom to my brother's family, but she never recovered, we forcefully kept her alive for 2 years by feeding her thru tubes fixed to her stomach. Eventually we gave up hopes and let her go, as she never made any attempt to come out of coma. In 2015 Peacefully in his sleep dad left us on the same date (Hindu calendar) 9 years apart. Reunited in heaven my guardian angels are watching over me, protecting me.

It doesn't hurt me anymore when I remember those days. We should see off our parents, it is our dharma, what we do for them while they are alive is our karma. There were all kinds of people in my surroundings then, celebrating our pains and envying our joys.

My understanding is, we all have to pay for our sins individually, and no one is going to drag the cross for us. Mom Paid for her sins, I paid for mine. People judge others life in haste. They fail to realize that they themselves are not immune to hardships and bad times. Life doesn't end with one incident or one person. It is a continuous process. There is a lot of good and bad left for all of us to see. After all the suffering, am I done with my share of pains? Or more rude shocks are awaiting their turn to purify me. I don’t know the answer; I live in fear of it.

I am not running away, I will not and I cannot. I have to pay for my deeds, liberation comes only after producing a no dues certificate. The challenge of life lies in gracefully accepting the judgment of time. Oh mighty eternal valorous time I bow to you in reverence

Damn the nightmares...

Damn the nightmares... my brain is yet to make adjustments to the new emerging rules post demonitisation.
As an inheritance from mother, I developed the habit of hiding the currency in between the sarees , under the PAPERS in the wardrobe. I was so distrustful of myself that I never hid them at the most obvious places.
On November 8th night, after our mitr ended bashan on TV, I came home and opened the Godrej almirah and searched the most obvious places but did not find more than a note or two. I was relaxed but then I thought, is this all I saved? No there should be more to it, but from where do I start to ensure that the black snakes are not sitting somewhere silently to settle the scores with me later for forcefully hiding them away from the world.
Next day after the man left I closed the bedroom door opened the wardrobe believing that I am going to unearth a lot of hidden wealth. To my utter dismay I couldn't find more than a couple of old rs500 notes. I wasn't satisfied with my efforts in searching because I had confidence in the bharatiya nari in me.
When we stuff a note here and then in the wardrobe it is always with a noble intention of helping the families sail through the tough times. Actually it helped me big time once, when I lost everything to the tumbled nifty, the hidden wealth saw me though the tough times for a month. 
I called my dear saroj to dust every saree. She while doing the same shared that her mother too had the habit of saving money the same way. And mother always had enough to meet the unexpected, unforeseen emergencies in the house. Unplanned needs too were fulfilled by her unanticipated savings. She would give money to brother to fix the cycle puncture, give her a rupee or two to buy bangles in the mela, her sisters tuition fees too was met with these savings. Father was never aware of the backdoor transactions. Rich or poor once we are wives and more important mothers, we think alike save alike and spend alike.
Saroj and I finished the dusting activity by midday, we were successful in finding a couple of the much disliked despised notes, but not to the extent I expected. I was happy and unhappy both at the same time. I left for work and since then till date every discussion in virtual world or real world is all about money... 
When I came back from office, while having coffee I asked saroj ...kuch rreh gaya hoga re. she : aap ka vaham hai babhi, Maine har ek sadi ko jhatak ke deka, jo mila uthna hi tha
I made peace as I had 50 more days in hand to dispose, if i accidentally discover any more of them. But everyday there is a new law regarding the abandoned notes. 
With 30th Dec around the corner, I am getting jittery about finding the demonetized notes later and then being jailed for the same. Bringing in a lot of disgrace, to the family for stocking the abandoned currency. All this punishment just for the innocent ways we inherited in the name of small domestic savings.
Every Indian housewife should become brave bold suave and demand her share of white money from husbands in their bank accounts, and be provided with a debit card and if possible a credit card too from here on...
Our handsome 56" inch broad chest bachelor mitr should get this idea in his Mann and declare his Mann ki baat as a diktat on one chosen Sunday, Men should be penalised for not declaring their wealth to their women all these years, because of this women developed a habit of saving the savings in the most ancient methods, which caused a havoc in their financial planning recently.
Before the hell breaks loose let me go and dust my wardrobe one final time to save the family dishonor of being branded as black money hoarders, if I discover anything more than a meager rs10, 000 I will be penalized humiliated isolated branded and maybe when I go in search of suitors for my children, they will call us, hey this is the family which once upon a time hoarded rs100000000000000000 (from mouth to mouth a zero gets appended at the end very naturally), hey ram shub shub socho

Rs 50,000 penalty for holding old notes after December 30?

AND IT IS THE JOURNALISTS WHO ARE FAILING TODAYS INDIA.

I open my wardrobe, and it’s time for my daily dilemma of what to wear. The girl notices it and offers help…mom as today is Sunday and you follow the weekly astro color code strictly , so wear this red kurta and pair it with white Patiala, as sun(Sunday and red) and moon(white , Monday ) are friends , this combination shouldn’t upset them, and you may in fact get the benevolence of 2 planets on one day. I don’t laugh at her snide remark on my strict adherence to color code but follow her choice of dress for the day.

She interrupts my thought process by saying mom what if modi ji brings in a new rule tomorrow about limiting the size of wardrobe, what will you do with all these sarees??? I hoarsely chirp at her “preesha shub shub bolo “… mom: - you are upset just at the thought of cutting down the wardrobe, I can guess the impact of it on you, if such a rule is made.

The man calls the girl, and they discuss in meek tenor about my mental status ….I over hear words like aging, frustration …. I yell at them from bedroom, humare shauk hai hi ithne se “few good clothes, little jewelry, and few pairs of sandals” isme bi pabandi hogi tho gussa nahi aayega kya? … She answers back gently , mom what about the perfumes and all the lotions stacked up on the dressing table. i shout back , Please don’t scare me by making me imagine glimpses of govt officers coming and clearing my dressing shelf too.

While driving to work, I realize that I am really getting paranoid reading all the forwards on whatsapp, debates on fb and watching news on the TV, (thankfully off late I have become less of a newspaper person) about people dying in the ques, army taking over a state, rs 5 crore plus of fresh currency seized in bangaluru, a govt officer caught with crores of old currency, bank employees doing money laundering for commission. News reporting is not limited to journalists any more, and journalists are not neutral any more. We are fed by Biased, corrupt, and sold out media 24 hours a day .

Added to this is another nuisance of every party’s back office staff , releasing pro party messages, images, articles ,data into the grapevine … and sadly also the morphed, distorted deprecating and denigrating images of their rivals , and we aam insaan share them frivolously. I don’t know what has taken over us that we don’t think twice before using the forward button.

To be honest I as aam insaan don’t know the real effect of demonetization or good/bad effect of the imposed gold limit or of the pending announcements. I get swayed by the strong make believe current, by the general sentiment created by media. It should be the job of JOURNALISTS to help the truth to percolate to the bottom most layer of the pyramid.

AND IT IS THE JOURNALISTS WHO ARE FAILING TODAYS INDIA.

I finally decide to stop bothering myself about all the good and bad news being spread around and tune into FM, luckily I get arijit for company
“Acha chalta hoon Duaaon mein yaad rakhna
reporter dost mere , kaam tum log sachha karna

i hum along.........................

Travelogue

Travelogue 
I got down from the cab
saw the crowd hustling at the trolley stand 
I moved aside, pulled the handle of my trolly bag, converted it into a makeshit trolly hanged the other bag onto the handle and dragged myself into the que with luggage at the main entrance.
The noise and chaos at the entrance was reminiscent of the bustand in my small town.
A middle aged man appeared from nowhere in the que , he made space first for himself with awkward gyrating movements and then for his wife, my “excuse me “ "excuse me " failed to make it to his temporarily deaf ears.
I reach the gate, show the guard ticket on my tab, my instinct says the guard is faking attention, so I show the ticket date, the destination, the photo on the i card and then point to my face……he nods reluctantly and allows me to move forward…
I get into the check in que, the airline guy appears more of a cop with a walky talkie in hand than the security guy at the entrance , trimly dressed, stern body language , doing a lot of policing ...
The girl at the check in, asks me to load the luggage on to the scale , I am petrified about exceeding the weight limit , ( never worried so much about the kilos getting added on to my body every year )the lady says 2 kgs extra, pay for it, my Indian brain gives me an instant jugaad, I open the trolley , take out the laddu box given by mom in law and shove it into hand luggage with a giggle , the girl gives a helpless look for failing to earn extra bucks for her company thereby hurting her incentives, she asks to get my hand luggage weighed, as i meet the standards , I give her a victory glimpse , collect the boarding pass , security tag and move towards security check .
At the security check , IT employees move at snails pace, loading their laptops and various gizmos into the trays to pass through the scanner, I load my bag and stand in line to get frisked , the young lady does her job in seconds and stamps my pass with elan , i surge ahead to collect my bag and reach the gate to board the bus. 
Passengers jostle to get into the bus , as if it is the last bus towards life, as it is the last bus out of war zone, I follow the crowd and struggle to get into the bus and also to get out of the bus , we fail to understand that the flight will not leave without collecting the passengers and their baggage, it is bound to take all the checked in passengers with their checked in luggage. But we have this inbuilt scarcity insecurity insufficiency of missing of losing of starving.... our fears are so unrequited , irrelevant at many places... 
We stand as soon as the flight comes to a halt, in spite of the knowledge that disembarking wouldn't start in next 15 minutes , we collect our hand baggage and wouldn't let the old or the lady with an infant standing behind us to move ahead of us , the few minutes which we save really makes no difference in comparison to the generosity we can extend to the passengers who really need to get down ahead of us... I don't know from where this meanness has creeped into our minds, why have we become so petty , to fight over trivial issues like who gets in first or leaves first , or who gets the storage space just above the seat in the overhead bin, or who collects the baggage first at the belt... 
I while away my time reading playing with the child in the other row , trying to start a conversation with fellow passenger , talk learn exchange extend inform update ... 
This life can become a beautiful one if we become a little giving, a little accomdative, making little bit of space for others, extending a hand of friendship of help.... and In my observations the young behave with more maturity than the middle aged in the above mentioned scenarios ... our hope certainly lies in the young India

ఆకారం స్వరూపం లేని ఆత్మకేంతెలుసు

ఆకారం స్వరూపం లేని ఆత్మకేంతెలుసు 
మనసున్న శరీరాలకు ఉండే భావాలు , భావోద్వేగాలు 
అద్దె ఇంట్లో ఉన్నట్టు వ్యవహరించాలని అతిథి లాగ ప్రవర్తించాలని 
హిత బోధ చేసే ఆత్మను ఎలా నమ్మాలి ఎందుకు గౌరవించాలి

మనసుని చంపుకొని బ్రతకాలని ఆదేశాలు మార్గదర్శనం జ్ఞానోదయం 
అస్సలు అనుబంధాలు పెంచుకొవద్దు అని జ్ఞాన బోధ చేసె వెలుగువి నీవు 
శవానికి అంటిన నిప్పు చల్లారకముందే ఆత్మ విముక్తి కి మరి పూజలెందుకో ?

ఆత్మ సాక్షి కన్నా మనసాక్షే గొప్పది , నిజమైనది
స్పృహ ఉన్నన్నాళ్ళు శరీరం సత్యం, ఆత్మ మిథ్యం
శారీరిక మానసిక అవసరాల కోసమే నా తపన , తాపత్రేయం 
నవ్వుతు ఏడుస్తూ ప్రేమిస్తూ గెలుస్తూ ఆడిస్తూ
నిండుగా నా శరీరమై నేనై జీవిస్తా 
చచ్చినాకే ఆత్మనై , ఆత్మ గా చలామణి అవుతా 
అంత వరకు నాకు ప్రేమలు అనుబంధాలు సంబంధాలు 
పంచేద్రియాలు కలిపించే అనుభూతులు , ఇవి ముఖ్యం 
to hell with detachment and liberation ..

People are making a living out of criticizing narendra modi.

People are making a living out of criticizing narendra modi.
There are many ghost followers of him, who always fire over others shoulders.

And then there are shadow followers , who watch the news on every channel, read all the fake and real write-ups on net., Every word in the news paper , pick up the weak links, blow them out of proportion and make a living out of it.
Any hint of a small piece of write up which is anti government is vehemently brought to light and a story is weaved around it by misconstruing facts.
Actually these people can be segmented into 3 groups.

The top of this group is lead by the people who sold their souls to the enemies of our nation like j... D.... And company.

The second group is lead by our b..... D... and flock, they sniff from the first group and add their own bacteria to it and sneeze out lot of infection in the guise information......

The next category enjoys the dropped infected poo of the second category.
This third category is a Section of people further subdivided into 2 sub categories
A category is the people who can wipe out the entire humanity for their god. 
B category is the people who can sell their god, faith and soul for personal popularity.
This people will take it on their shoulders to spread the infection to every nook and corner of the nation.

#The ruckus we are making out of ban on cow slaughter is an example of the same.
Allow beef lovers to eat Buffalo meat, regularize the abattoirs, ban only cow slaughter and build proper shelter homes for abandoned old cows. Abattoirs should be closely monitored, stringent rules be enforced, followed, and monitored.
Why involve people on street to protect cows.
All of us should stop our obsession with religion. We are behaving as if we are the saviors of our gods, when did this role reversal happen?
Why are we defaming our nation, our identity in the name of god and there by defaming our religion too.
The prime minister is setting right a lot of wrongs done in the name of appeasement, for the vote bank in the past. He is hastening up a bit as a lot of undoing has to happen.
But the government should not convert social, moral, ethical, sentimental issues into political causes. 
I am not questioning the government’s intentions but definitely its implementation.

By empowering the wrong people they are converting national issues into ruling vs. opposition scuffle, you vs. me, us vs. them fight, sublimely pitting an Indian against another. Diluting the matter, widening the cracks amongst its citizens. Taking the fights to college campuses shows the feeble mindset of both the groups. It is sickening to see people killing each other to eat beef or stop people from consuming beef.

Seriously bjp lacks suave politicians like shashi tharoor, chidambaram, and manish tiwari. We are fed up of listening to sambit patra, sudhanshu trivedi and the heavily accented gvl narasimha rao.

Hire the unemployed wizards of congress as they are capable of sugar coating any news and releasing them grandiosely into their media friend’s laps. They are all sitting idle now and their boss is clueless about how effectively he can use the coterie like his mom , grand mom did...

.Our bhallaladeva RG has many katappas working for him, but our modi is like amrendra bahubali fighting alone for his people.
People who are Indians, who

call themselves Indians will make space for fellow Indians and respect each other's sentiments and food habits.

Reminiscences

I said goodbye to him at the hostel gate, and started the journey back home.
1992, march 4th Hyderabad.
Two and half decades ago, my daddy was in my place and I in the sons place.
Daddy came to see me before my intermediate final exams at the hostel. He brought me a new dress as gift to motivate me. He took me out for lunch after taking permission from the warden. During lunch we watched the India vs. Pakistan 1992 world cup match at the restaurant. Pakistan was trailing and we enjoyed every bit of it. After lunch he dropped me back at the hostel and bid goodbye at the gate, I was swallowing my tears, to make him feel good. I did not want to leave any sad aftertaste of our meeting for dad. They always believed that their daughter is a brave a girl, come what may she will withstand and face it, to emerge victorious. This faith actually shaped me into a strong individual. I never allowed them a peek into my pains and problems. No daughter would, I believe.
25.03.2017, BP koirala institute of health sciences, dharan.
I went along with him to drop him at the hostel. After dumping the luggage in his room we stepped out for lunch. He took me to one of the cleanest restaurants in the town. We ordered a pan pizza with extra spicy vegetable toppings and a chicken sizzler. 
The chef took a lot of time to dish them out, but the experience was worth the wait. I was impressed with the quality of food and suggested he eat at the same place during weekends. He said mom I chose this place because you are here with me, otherwise I cannot afford this for myself if I have to pay the bill. I payed the bill and then we left for the market to buy him a bicycle. He selected one but he wanted to come back with his friends in the evening after doing some more research on the product. He wanted to discuss it with the senior who was using it. I gave him the money for it.
I dropped him back at the hostel; he insisted I leave early and cross the border before evening.
I sat in the car, Bid him goodbye at the hostel gate, and started missing him much before I crossed the campus main gate.
My dad might have felt the same, every time he dropped me at the hostel.
Dear son you will be in my place one day.
I endured the pain to see happiness in my father's eyes, and I saw you doing the same today.
I did mistakes, but I never repeated them to not hurt my parents. I experimented, but never got addicted to anything. I enjoyed had loads of fun. But the goal was never out of sight.
Son I see you as a better person than me in everything you do and am so proud of you. I see you as my reflection, as my father's legacy, as my mother's extension.
Leaving this small piece of writing as a record for the next generation to dwell and explore their roots. Son when you grow into my place you can understand the essence of what you mean to me today. 
Good luck

the son called from college to inform that he is coming home for the weekend.
I rushed up my work to reach home early to cook his fav meal. 
My girls did all the pre work up in the kitchen and i got into robotic mode to get done with cooking as early as possible . The neighborhood aunty sAw me walking into the flat much before my usual time and knocked to check if all is ok, or if rahula is visiting .
I said yes aunty you guessed it right 
She said I could guess because of the aroma from your kitchen. she also added with a wink that "cook and feed your son to your hearts content ", its just a matter of time before his visits to home will recede. And after he gets married he will be like a guest visiting you annually., And then maybe once in 2 years...
I said precisely aunty that's what I do too, visit my mother in law even less that that, and I don't see any gaps in our relation ,Though it took time for her to accept . in fact it is less of acceptance and more of helplessness on her part that she is not able to do Much because even willingly her son cannot take long breaks from work, so he insists that as she has more liberty with her time ,she should be visiting us and spending more time with us and not expect the other way round

And I am a practical woman so I will be happy if my son in future does Not visit me as frequently as he does now, what's the big deal ?

She said sipping her coffee ...yes yes ... This is all big talk, you will be hurt like dead if he visits his in laws and starts loving the food cooked by his mother in law , more than yours. 
Omg I ain't in stone age aunty, if that lady can really take care of my foodie sons needs , I will be more than happy. Is it not a blessing for me to see my children being cared by other mothers too. Is it not ?
She was quite for few seconds and lamented about how her son's heart is captured by his boisterous in laws.
I said with a crooked smile never mind aunty no one can replace a mother in a sons heart, and I am sharing with you this as a daughter in law ... 
She left the coffee cup on the table and walked out of my house with a perplexed expression...
I switched over to mukesh for company and proceeded with rolling rotis .😃... Mukesh went on koi jab tumhara hruday thod de , tadapta hua jab tumhe chod de..