Life in a Non-Metro

Just got out of a hot shower in a December morn,I reached for a pair of denim and well ironed top/kurta, knowing that I had a lot of running around to do at the Annual Sports Meet in the school where I teach. Though there was no dress code but it is a truth acknowledged throughout India that saari is the safest bet if u are in a formal environment.So I chose one from a few I have.

As I was signing the register a colleague smiled and said, "lucky saari ! you are wearing it :-)" Cute compliment.I never heard it before."yes"I responded,"I didn't want to disappoint my fans.;-) (who belonged to III A ). In the class, girls chirped, "looking nice ma'am" and boys gave me the look of 'what happened to this lady'? She is looking so different.

My students come from varied backgrounds. A child who has already traveled half the globe, rubs shoulders with another whose father washes clothes in one of the hostels or cooks food in some mess, in perfect harmony. One was absent for a few days and told me that he had been to Princeton University.And when I asked Saina why was she absent for two days.shyly she replied and I didn't believe my ears,

"Ma'am our cow ate my uniform".

A unique excuse I've ever heard."It is possible", a few others confirmed.

Now some complaints:

Ankan Verma: Ma'am these people call me Ankal (uncle)

Maanas: Yes and they call me Minus :(

By the way Class 3 won the Trophy for the 'Best special Display.' Sari was lucky indeed.:)

Enjoying my afternoon siesta is in my DNA. And internet is the lullaby. I could be the founder member of the page:‘I don’t watch TV’ On Facebook, but Luckily I got to watch a part of the documentary on Madhubala which was being telecast on one of the news channels. The segment I watched was dedicated to Kishore Kumar and how he married and then tortured her later.

I never cease to thank God for my evening walks.Mostly I'm alone. Sick of the same songs on my mobile, I took hubby’s IPod and the first song was ‘Jab Tak Maine Samjha jeevan kya hai,jeevan beetgaya' sung by Kishore. Thinking about the way he treated Madhubala ,I hated him and felt like skipping the song.Then I thought of what I read somewhere:

“All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.”

So if a person is gifted he has a right to hurt/humiliate others? I almost agreed and couldn’t skip the song and what a song!

My locality is full of small and big temples. I pass by many of them. And here was one.It looked like a well and covered with a lid. Some smooth round pebbles, marked with vermillion reminded me the saying about my hometown, Uttarkashi. It goes like..’Jitne kankar,utne Shankar’.

After supper I watched Bawarchi with my MIL (mother in law).Kishore Kumar again! I was fast asleep just after I heard Jaya asking Rajesh Khanna.

‘Itna pyaar diya ,uska koi mol nahi?”

RK had no answer.

How different my life would have been if I were living in a Metro,having a good job.I put myself in the shoe of those ladies whose profiles I view on FB and wonder do they have a life better

than mine? I don’t really know. All I know is that I'm happy in celebrating myself in the small pleasures that everyday holds.

http://www.womensweb.in/articles/celebrating-myself/

Happy B'day Jesus

Just felt like having a Christmas Tree at home.Didn't have one since my children stopped believing in Santa.Thinking of Dickens' famous lines:

"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year"

People

In the hullabaloo of cosmic Mela It seems that we lose our dear ones and traveling through time we again cross paths.Our brain,though en extraordinary organ, having its limitations fails to recognize but our heart gives some signals:

How out of numerous colleagues,only one,whom you get to meet only once in a blue moon ,gels so well with you that u become permanent members of the 'Mutual admiration club'.Like that day at work, how could she
differentiate between my usual cheerful self and the fake broad grin? When she asked."looking dull now a days.Any problem? Or just Monday morning blues"? I couldn't lie so kept quiet.
whereas colleagues/friends who are inseparable,couldn't see anything.

The World is His Ashtray

I believe that a drunkard’s devotion to his deity, to whom he surrenders everything including his senses is unparalleled. Of late I have noticed the same passion burning also in the hearts of the people who smoke.

In a family of non-smokers I never had /have an opportunity to observe them closely. Now more awareness against it, i.e., banned in restaurants etc the chances are bleak. People visiting you also go outside to smoke. Now we don’t even see a Jackie Shroff, i.e. a good guy smoking in the movies.

As a kid I have seen people smoking casually, sitting and chatting in our drawing-room. Now only I realize that we always had an ashtray in our house. When, the one made of some light metal, a bowl with a lid and a big hole on the top looked weird, was replaced by a lovely glass ashtray. It had spaces left on its edges to put the cigarette if the visitor wished to sip tea in between. The ashtray was cleaned regularly and put on the central-table and used as a paper-weight also. Right now I realize that in these two decades neither I had an ashtray in my house nor I saw a lovely one on the shelves of a gift/china shop.

Smokers, like drunkards are also devoted souls. A worst victim of motion sickness, I only detested them in a bus or a train, when with the first breath of that smell I would puke. Otherwise who doesn’t like Vinod Mehra blowing smoke on Rekha’s face in the movie  GHAR while she sings lyrics penned by Gulzar.

Coming back to ‘burning passion’, in my locality, I get to cross paths with many beginners and stalwarts of smokers’ club, though just for the fraction of a second. One doesn’t have to stand and stare but just a glance is enough to see the deep satisfaction which seems “exquisite and leaves them unsatisfied”. From holding it to blowing smoke out of their mouth, each step looks a ritual .They seem to pronounce that if it is a slow death then let it approach me while I enjoy several such lives.

The latest argument I heard in the defense of smoking is that more non-smokers die of smoking related diseases. Husbands console their wives saying Net pe check kar lo.  (Check the data on the Net).

Humming the song I faintly remember, Bhupinder singh singing in Chitrhaar, Cigrate ka dhuaan jata hai kahaan? Ye kahi jata nahin (where does the smoke from the cigarette go, etc), I sincerely wish for a few smokers I know a healthy and long life.

Dreams

The storyteller

While watching Prem Rog on TV this afternoon, I thought  of a classmate/friend of mine, Anita Rawat , the great storyteller who narrated the story of this film to me (us)almost 3 decades back.

I don't know how many people are aware of this genre and talent of(film) storytelling. She used to start from the casting and could make her listeners visualize 'The End',on the screen.These sessions used to take place in the free periods at some corner of the playground of the school while enjoying the winter sun and continued in various parts throughout the week.The mesmerized listeners were found in tears sometimes.I wonder if there is a 'Filmfare Award' for such orators.

When I saw this film with my friends,whom I was visiting, in a theatre which is now submerged in water along with the orchards,bazaars, schools, a palace and a clock tower of Tehri Garhwal, I had already heard the story. OMG !! She had even described the cleavage of the heroine so vividly.

When I returned from Dehradun to Pauri after one of my winter-breaks and announced that Sunjay Dutt was looking great in Vidhata
I was requested by SD fans to tell the story,I couldn't continue after 5-6 minutes."Picture Khatam"??They asked. We all had a good laugh.Then I realised that Storytelling is not everybody's cup of tea or bowl of popcorn.

Funny FlipKart Ad

Don't miss the statue in the ad :-)

A visitor

Suffering from viral, I was admitted to Health Centre. I'm back after two days of home-sickness. Apart from many other friends
see who came to visit me. :-)

A Trip to South India

Thanks to the frequent drizzle that made the weather agreeable and to our wonderful hosts to make our trip enjoyable.
Throughout my stay I kept comparing North and south India regarding development, roads, weather, traffic, people,police (kaval in tamil ) food etc.
The journey by Brindavan Express, from Chennai to Bangalore was enjoyed most. For the first time in my life I enjoyed the food available in trains. My God, those dosas were heavenly :-)
It was nice to see ladies wearing thick gold chains and ornaments while traveling. Here in north chain snatching is so rampant that it is not at all safe .

Pondicherry was exactly the same as I had imagined, specially the streets (rues)around Aurobindu Ashram ,the French–style houses and restaurants, etc.

Like my Mumbai trip, I kept thinking about the bloggers from Chennai whose blogs I read. I wondered if one of them was around when I was strolling at City Centre, Adyar, KFC or T Nagar. But I had no luck :-(

One thing that I missed during these eight days was a cup of proper tea-kadak(strong) Chai. But I got a double dose of tea in the form of a book called Chai-Chai, which I wanted to read but was not getting here.

Time to return and how true was what I read in Chai Chai: “..return journeys are always shorter and more assuring”.
I found myself humming the nursery rhyme my dad used to repeat whenever he used to return from his official tours ‘Dekh liya humne jug sara-----apna ghar hai sabse pyara. (I have seen the whole world and realized that my own cozy home is the best)

Ajmer Trip

Dargah Ajmer

' Love towards all malice towards none.'



View from the Jain Temple...


One of the Vibrant lanes of Pushkar

A Pet's Tale

The moment I read a few lines of the post (Nanoo) I had a dejà vu.

Back from school I found my elder sis and bro arguing about a blackish-brown pup who was sitting comfortably in the corner .A cleanliness freak, she didn’t want the pup to stay.  I didn’t know whom to support as keeping a pet was a big responsibility too.

In the evening when bro was off to play cricket didi put the pup in a bag and went for a long cycle ride and left it 5 km away from home. To her horror she found the pup on our doorstep the next morning and before she knew Ronny had already learnt to shake hands.

Popular among the kids, she had regular lil visitors leaning on our railingin the evenings. Dad was still paying back the house loan but it was called ‘Ronny’s House’ by many.

During the chilled winters of Dehradun she preferred to sleep in one of our rooms, a verbal instruction was enough to send her back to her room. But what amazes/ intrigues me most even today that how cd she make out that who was passing by the main road outside the gate. She wd growl just before we heard the sound of lifting the latch of the gate.

It was a busy road. People and two wheelers wd pass by but the moment someone was about to open our gate, not even touched, she wd bark even though she wd be sleeping in the innermost room of the house.

I took my board exams, graduation, Post grad, took a job and then got married and even later Ronny was always in the background .Thirteen years is a long time after all.

After few years when bro got married everyone (friends) said Ronny should have lived to see this happy occasion, the way we say about an elder of the family who is no more.


Pets give us so much but leave a pain forever when they leave us.

Pics from the classroom

 

Teaching the lil ones in school was one of my short term goals (In the line of '5 Year Plans".I hope to explore other goals and enjoy them in the years to come. But right now I'm missing what I did in past 5 years ..

Teacher's Day

When does rest of the world celebrate Teacher's Day?
Do they celebrate it at all.

Gold!!!@ Beijing

Congrats India!!

Congrats Abhinav

Mumbai

Last week I visited Mumbai for the first time.The city looked like a film which I've already seen,as all the places,roads and their names looked so familiar.Thanks to our hindi films.

Though beaches disappointed me but I loved the promenades.

I saw 'Mannat'and 'Jalsa' but I couldn't resist taking a photograph when I was told that this building belongs to our very own Lata Mangeshkar.

-Vandy.

PP

While browsing the net I landed here and got to read the post titled PP which instantly brought a smile on my lips.

During pre PCO days pp i.e.neighbour's phone  (PADOSI KA PHONE) was the source of many good/bad news from relatives and friends . I don’t remember any phone -owner getting disturbed or feeling  irritated when he had to call his neighbours to receive their phone calls. But those were the days when we had the neighbours in the true sense of the word.

Now let me tell the reason to smile:
During mid 80ies, we lived in Pauri Garhwal. The place we lived at was away from the city.We had to climb down quite a distance to reach the school and then climb up the same distance to get back to the ‘Officers' Colony’ which had only five houses. There was one more house which belonged to an Engineer of Jal sansthaan (‘waterworks’).

In those five houses, for a few months,only we had a Phone. Our engineer friend got this facility later but for some time Srivastava uncle had to depend on our phone for his official calls, which were quite frequent as the nature of his job required it. To call him we had to walk down quite a bit. So we had a‘who will go’ look on our faces whenever he got a call. Still it was fine with us.

One winter afternoon we were startled by a sound of a pebble hitting our tin roof. We came out to check who did it!! We looked up(the motor road) and saw our very jovial Shah uncle who was the SP (suptd.of Police) ,a busy person. He said (loudly) that he was passing by and just wanted to say hello but didn’t have the time to climb down (to reach our house).

After that day we just had to throw a pebble on the tin roof of the person we had to call.

Anyone who heard or saw us doing that had a good laugh.

flowers and Thorns

This is the first pic I took on my way to Badrinath.(somewhere near Kannauj)







This bush is called BICHHUGHAS and found in Uttranchal in abundance.Just a touch is enough to give you electric current and pain for hours.

why Amitabh is not a typical blogger?

1. No blogger puts his own photographs on his blog.

2. HE doesn't wait for the comments,he gets them anyway that too in 100s.

3. All the readers know him but he doesn't know them.It's not the case with
a normal blogger.

4. He is a busy man. Can't keep track of all his blog friends.Would HE
experience that delight of knowing someone who thinks just like him.The way we do.

5. Would he be happy to know that one of his blog-friends has become father recently.

6. Would he wait for his blog friend's newborn child's pics?

7.Wd HE know that how one feels when ppl u hv never met,never forget to wish u Happy Birthday. Even though you don't write too well but still they praise ur writing skills and encourage u.
Discuss Ghalib and Gulzar.

And many other things He would not feel the way a typical blogger does.

-Vandy (an Amitabh fan)

Just a feeling!

All our friends have names,
best friends or just friends .
Few we cherish, others we let go.

All our relatives have names,
poor relations or the rich ones.
Some we accept , some we don't.

We name our memories,
the good ones and the bad !
Few we frame , rest we throw.


We have names for God,
omniscient,chaste and
all over spread...

Then why can't I give a name
to the feeling, I have today.
And have no words to name it !

chakde!

Looks a nice movie.I want it to be a hit. something different . Reminds me of Hip Hip Hurray.