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..