The color of black

How can I define black I wondered…?
The color of universe…
Where something is lost is lost forever…
That’s black for you.
A color that can never be contaminated a color that can never be dyed in a hue or tone…
It mixes in other colors to create a hue of its own…
White can easily mixed and mingled
Black stands on its own…
That’s black for you folks the color of its own

Some weaknesses just never die…

For a long time cheese has been one of the weakness that I can never get cured of and why should I? Except curds and butter milk it is the only milk product I have. Milk is only for teas and coffees (and of course drinking chocolate…but rather than its drinking chocolate+ milk…its spoonfuls of drinking chocolate in the mouth). I have started to see a cheese slice that comes on discovery travel and living on every Sunday at 10.00 pm. It shows cheeses of different countries as well as the making process, the kind of milk used (raw or pasteurized, cow milk, buffalo milk or goat milk)…the maturing process (yes most of real cheeses do have that period). I have always loved to read about the cheeses of different countries and I had almost told my friend to get me “Chhurpi” or yak milk cheese but looks she gave me made me revoke my request (typical IT language here). Pizzas of dominos and pizza hut are hence hot favorite for me…esp. cheese burst pizza
French has been my bread and butter for a real long time as a teacher as well as translator earned me a lot in terms of experience and expertise…but one thing that fascinated me when I was studying French from first to last level was wine n fromage aka cheese. From Camembert to brie to Roquefort to abondonce to banon to Mont d’or …the list runs wow…as much as 1,000 types of cheeses in France alone. Cheese in France has evolved as a culture in form of cheeseboard for dessert or cheese with pears and wine. This is one of the reasons why I would like to travel France not for a month or two, but more than that…just to savor red/white wine along with cheese at the Eiffel tower J
The next weakness that I can’t absolutely get rid of is dark chocolate. In any form and I am captivated. Now like I like black or white…I like either dark chocolate or white chocolate no hybrid mix of milk chocolate for me. Incidentally my better (?) half always manages to get a lot of these for me. Lindt or sanfancisco local chocolates (dark) filled with mint (not that good) or flavored (lovely). Even a cake or ice-cream with dark chocolate icing (Dutch truffle) makes me savor every single morsel. I am so selfish here that even when chocolates are brought for distribution, I scrounge for dark chocolate ones and take them away …hehe…the same applies for white chocolate …
I guess it is that in me…anything fine and lovely tasting and vegetarian comes in my hit list. Though sweets with oodles of ghee and sugar give me hives …I can’t relish them when the overpowering taste of ghee and tooth paining sugar numbs the senses.
I know I don’t look as if I love eating in the first place. But perceptions can be misleading

Isn’t he really mechant?

That is what I ask everyone I know when they see him…he is devil in guise of angel when he doesnot know you. But once he gets to know and he likes what he sees. He is that person who just robs your heart and you become his fan.
Blessed with gift of gab (at this age) and intelligence and mainly the quest to knowledge, the leadership qualities that he has truly steals my heart away but his stubbornness tendency of making one irritated and usual kiddish insensitivity make me loose my temper actually.
I share a love hate relationship with him…3/4 of the times I am shouting at him and 12/4 times both of us peacefully watch TV.
That my nephew for you…One look in the eyes brimming with pure mirth and mischief has you captivated forever.

Something stupid…

I know I stand in line, until you think you have the time To spend an evening with me

And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there´s a chance You wont be leaving with me

And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place And have a drink or two

And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid Like: "I love you"

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies You heard the night before

And though it´s just a line to you, for me it´s true It never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say To make the meaning come through

But then I think I´ll wait until the evening gets late And I´m alone with you

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red And oh the night´s so blue

And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid Like:" I love you"

(" I love you, I love you,....")

I have always liked classic English songs like “que sera sera/what will be will be” from glass bottomed boat.
This song was originally sung by Frank and Nancy Sinatra, Frank Sinatra a legend in himself…though I am yet to get my hand on the original, I loved this version too. Simple lyrics that catch the real core, actually speak the mind kind…..the music complimenting the song, no highs and lows but still the way of singing the similar lines just twist…
A duet to the end…and complex vocals which seem so simple…what I liked the best besides the music and a simple lovely song….is when both Robbie willaims and Nicole kidman say “And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid Like:" I love you" (" I love you, I love you,....")” Lovely song…indeed

Ohlala…red toe nails…

My aunt had managed to get real sidish red color nail polish from US, the one I never bothered to wear much…it looked liked “khoon me doobe hue haath pair” but this was from a good company and in good condition (thanks to refrigerator). I love my toe nails minus all the frills…the main reason being that I cant manage my self that well and nail polish requires constant updating.
After removing more hideous remainants of ugly brown color on toes, I didn’t love my toes, mainly since they looked ghastly with shadows of brown…so I had an idea…anyways my toes are usually clad in socks (blame it on weather and a/c office that dry up and later blisters my feet), who the hec is going to see the color???
After insistence of my better(?) half…who was happy to see his half turning feminine for a change…I tried the color…it didn’t look sidish any more…rather quiet pleasant…
Can I say that I am chnaging? maybe not...but red surely looks good than some brown...

My all time fave rondu "Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna"

Tum ko bhi hai khabar
Mujhko bhi hai pata
Ho raha hai judaa Dono ka raasta
Dur jaake bhi mujhse tum meri yaadon main rehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
kabhi alvida na kehna
Jitni thi khushiyaa Sab kho chuki hai
Bas ek gham hai ki jaata nahi
Samjha ke dekha behla ke dekha
Dil hai ki chain isko aata nahi
asu hai ki hai angarayi Aag hai kab aankhon se behna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
kabhi alvida na kehna
Rut aa rahi hai Rut jaa rahi hai Dard ka mausam badla nahi
Rang yeh gham ka itna hai gehra Sadiyon main hoga halka nahi Halka nahi
Kaun jaane kya hona hai Hum ko hai ab kya kya sehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
kabhi alvida na kehna
Tum ko bhi hai khabar
Mujhko bhi hai pata
Ho raha hai judaa Dono ka raasta
Dur jaake bhi mujhse tum meri yaadon main rehna
Kabhi alvida na kehna
kabhi alvida na kehna
kabhi alvida na kehna

Now the movie was so so, though it could have been directed in better manner. But the songs are good. But I liked this song the best. I have it as caller tune, ringtone,only song in the mobile…The song I can sing best and well, the chords I learnt …(real difficult…esp the hammer partL but managed it)
The song is written what can I say classically…nothing extra ordinary…no exotic use of words and lovely stanzas like some of the songs are adorned with…the lyrics are simple, and at times seem to the point L what compensates for this is the music…complex with many instruments but it takes the singer’s voice to the height and it is actually this music and the timbre of Sonu nigam’s voice that has made this song marvelous…
The song starts with “casiosque” tune…slowly joined with other instruments…Sonu nigam starts with almost painful whispering…you can actually feel the lump in the throat feeling when the he starts with “Tum ko bhi…”…higher and higher with “door jake”…and smashing to ground with “kabhi alvida na kehna….” The last kabhi alvida with a tremor…Alka yagnik I found too superficial for the song…she seems too technically correct in the song but actually too much emotionally lacking…at times even shrill…well sonu nigam has compensated for it full fledged…
The song pauses with a sad rendering of another song in the movie…a dream sequence…
I liked the first stanza…you actually feel that happiness slipped out of the hand…with “jitni thi khushiyan…” sonu comes back with “smajha ke dekha” narrating utter helplessness of trying to mend a heart
The musical gap between the two verses is fantastic…actually feeling change in scenes and seasons…like nothing,neither happiness or sadness never lasts for ever...with sonu nigam just humming…high quality truly
The second verse is at power with the first one with “rut aa rahi hain..” a consistant hurt never ceasing… Sonu comes later again with…absolute uncertainty with “kaun jane…”
Here when the verse ends and we hear Alka Yagnik in her poor cut “kabhi alvida” somehow she failed to give the emotion in that one phrase…when you cant go on because of lump….a feeling of bursting out…
The song beautifully ends with sonu nigam slowly gfading the song with repeating kabhi alvida…(alka yagnik is blissfully forgotten)…n high music…slowly ending with casio like music…a true end to a beautiful song indeed

koshish karne walon ki kabhi haar nahi hoti

Lehron se Darkar nauka par nahin hoti, koshish karne walon ki haar nahin hoti
Nanhi cheenti jab daana lekar chalti hai, chadhti deewaron par, sau bar phisalti hai. Man ka vishwas ragon mein saahas bharta hai, chadhkar girna, girkar chadhna na akharta hai. Akhir uski mehnat bekar nahin hoti, koshish karne walon ki haar nahin hoti.
Dubkiyan sindhu mein gotakhor lagata hai, ja ja kar khali haath lautkar aata hai Milte nahi sahaj hi moti gehre paani mein, badhta dugna utsah isi hairani mein. Muthi uski khali har bar nahin hoti, koshish karne walon ki haar nahi hoti.
Asaflta ek chunauti hai, ise sweekar karo, kya kami reh gayi, dekho aur sudhar karo.
Jab tak na safal ho, neend chain ko tyago tum, Sangharsh ka maidan chhodkar mat bhago tum. Kuch kiye bina hi jai jaikar nahin hoti, koshish karne walon ki haar nahin hoti.
– Harivansh Rai Bacchan

I had heard about this poem real long time ago when I saw a very good and amazing movie called “maine Gandhi ko nahi mara”. This movie dealt with a sensitive topic, a psychological disorder called “schizophrenia”. Besides amazing star cast like Anupam kher, Boman Irani and Urmila matondkar…lovely story skillfully directed, this poem really formed centerpiece of the movie…It was really after many years that for some reason that this poem came in my mind…I googled (My better(?) half kids me as google freak and wikepedia freak…I use these two a lot) and voila a found the poem and the name of great poet…
Lovely poem…that surely calls for a print and sticking in the cubicle…what say folks?

Jhalmudi…lip smacking n just so tasty

On the route from Mumbai to Howdah, once you enter the outskits of MP (Madhya pradesh) bihar and Jharkhand…u will hear the cry…”jhal moodi jhal moodi…” ohhhhh…its nothing to make you scared…nothing weird but just a version of our very own bhel poori…but ofcourse the similarity ends here…Jhal moodi can be a real pain to eat mainly if you are unused or hate mustard oil of which there are liberal lashings…but if you like me love “sarson ka tel” you will absolutely love it…and mustard oil and onion combination is just DIVINE…you may not like it…since the taste is as foreign as olives (my mouth is watering) or horseradish…(m salivating)…
The cries are usually heard in second class train compartments…this was one thing that my ma in law didn’t allow any time since she got (rightly) scared that I may have stomach infection…but taking a intercity train to howdah from Jamshedpur and cry of “jhalmoodi” couldn’t make me resist for one…the person had a wicker basket, with assortment of mixtures (sev ,roasted gram and peanuts etc),chopped coriander and green chilles (bombs on tongue actually),chat masala,saindhav (rock salt) and ofcourse mamra (moodi/) ,wet coconut stripes (coolant after chilly bomb)and ubiquitous mustard oil. In a pace that will put a top chef to shame, he assembled the ingredients in a paper cone…decorated with cocnut stripes,coriander and sev…impatiently I took the cone…and had my first bit…aha….lovely…a simple yet wonderful dish…it was good on empty stomach and wonderful on the tongue…Ohhhhhhhhhhhh m loving it JJ and no..nopes…I didn’t have an infection…infact it increased my appetite for one more jhalmoodi J

Another long lost song…” tell him..”

This is dedicated to you Atlya. When I sent u the song, I didn’t know how long it had been since I have heard it my self J
I'm scared So afraid to show I care
Will he think me weak If I tremble when I speak
Oooh - what if There's another one he's thinking of
Maybe he's in love I'd feel like a fool
Life can be so cruel I don't know what to do
I've been there With my heart out in my hand
But what you must understand You can't let the chance To love him pass you by
Should I
Tell him Tell him that the sun and moon Rise in his eyes Reach out to him
And whisper Tender words so soft and sweet Hold him close to feel his heart beat
Love will be the gift you give yourself
Touch him With the gentleness you feel inside Your love can't be denied
The truth will set you free
You'll have what's mean to be
All in time you'll see
I love him Of that much I can be sure
I don't think I could endure If I let him walk away
When I have so much to say
I'll Love is light that surely glows In the hearts of those who know
It's a steady flame that grows
Feed the fire with all the passion you can show
Tonight love will assume its place
This memory time cannot erase Blind faith will lead love where it has to go
Never let him go

This song is divine is all I can say….it actually speaks volumes of what the two minds in a person endure…when you want to reveal your innermost feelings to this one special person but are afraid of rejection. The feelings are so full in you, that you want to reveal them but words cannot be chosen…its like you miss a breath, lump forms in the throat with anticipation, you want to endure the suspense, you ant the uncertainty to go, not willing to let your self know the feelings but still want to know the answers. (very Libran indeed all of you will say)
Lets go critically now…Barbara Streisand is voila…wonderful…I mean how can she manage to sing so high with that melodious voice and at the same time appear to be comforting you,giving you the confidence that it will be all right. Compared to that “my heart will go on” star celine dion I found shrill at times…The song it self unfolds with initial feelings or revelations of love, the dilemma of revealing or not revealing the feelings and later agreeing the power of love and necessity to reveal the feelings…how important it is…lovely music without overpowering the singer’s voice or the lyrics…just complementing it making it a divine song …
Must hear folksJ

The chai party…

I don’t know when did I get assimilated in this group…from the time I started the project I was always away from the team and even after I started working with the team ,this group was away and joined the team much later. I used to always have my evening tea at my desk,working around…but it was gentle insistence by a few members of this group that I started going with this group. Language was not a problem here since they all (except one) spoke my mother tongue. Always been around cosmopolitan group I managed only hindi. Marathi was always reserved for home and family members and relatives. Since my better half never conversed in marathi (which is obvious since his mother tongue is hindiJ) it was only when a call from my home that I switched to marathi. But not any more…for breakfast lunch and tea I always converse in marathi…it’s a breather and definitely at home feeling…mainly because my hindi is typical bambaiya mixed liberally with slangs and smatterings marathi and gujrati etc etc, I am constantly tutuored by my better half who is a hindi papad (again a slang used for any one who knows a lot about a particular thing) n its definitely me who never learns J
So leaving all this aside…its this chai party that enabled me to find friends including the one who serves chai…who at times partakes in small jokes along with us. We gather at the “tapri” as we call it only for our evening tea. When the whole group joins its fun definitely but even when few of us join its great. Usually its only “cutting” or “bi/2” chai but sometimes it is spiced with farsaan with chopped onions or alu pav or omlette pav (nt me) if someone is real hungry or samosa pav…but mostly its chit chatting without malice that attracts me to this chai party, it’s the idea of where to draw a line even in jokes that attacts me here…and mostly it’s the place which takes me aways from daily tensions of life…and career…but above all it’s the wonderful feeling of at home…a chai party with friends…

Some saddie again

Second and last saddie (for the time bieng hehehehehhe)

Well, it was always like that, the one that shouted and had all the drama was always heard
The one that mutely suffered and said nothing and understood everything and was sympathetic never took precedence
Never not even once the one who understood was given preference and this one mutely wiped tears when alone and smiled and pretended nothing happened
This happened always …
The one who considered was never considered
The one who never did was always done
The one who considered was always alone
The one who never did had lots of company
The one who considered was always made outcast
The one who never did was the center of attention

Some jottings

Real long time...had forgotten the tingle my fingers felt when I blogged...I love the feeling...hope to be here a bit more :):)
starts with a saddie poem,which perhaps gives a fair idea of some of us face in real life...a thought which some of my dear ones face daily in real life...

The reason to fly is no more there
the wings are getting plucked of feathers just so slowly one by one
The pain is unbearable but just so wanting
atleast its giving a reason for the tears pricking incessantly in eyes
The process is just so simple
till the last feather is plucked and wing becomes complete naked
then the binding process will start
this will be less painful since the numbness has alraedy set in
and lastly the old mould that was made ready,will be set around
and just like some ornamental bird, a live life will be showcased as "my creation"

The movie I loved…

The movie that is making rounds now days among the Marathi speaking population is “mi shivaji raje bhosle boltoy”. I have always loved seeing Marathi movies. They are simpler, less glamorous, and most importantly they make me feel closer to my mother tongue “Marathi” the same feeling is there when I read marathi books. and they are many, and wonderful. What I loved about this movie is that it tacked one of the core issues. This was what one of the political parties is obsessed about. And that is regionalism. I distinctly remember one of the dialogues exchanged when the hero and Shivaji maharaj (I should say THE Shivaji maharaj, since anyone well versed with Maharashtra history would know Shivaji maharaj) where the hero says that all business owned by various communities of India, with no contribution of maharshtrians. At that time maharaj says” who has stopped you from doing so…” etc etc. the bottom line was that one shouldn’t complain about the success of some community if one has equal opportunity to go ahead and one does not. I distinctly remember a real life incident that stayed in my memory for very long. An acquaintance of mine said that where she stayed some years back there were two persons from a community who were studying for MPSC UPSC exams. They knew only two roads one that took them to the college and another which took them to market. All they stayed locked up in their room studying and studying. I honestly wondered how many natives of Maharashtra would have done that. This movie also taught me many other things. One is being proud that I am a maharshtrian. Being proud to speak the language. I remember in my French classes we had a “sample” who was anglicized maharshtrian. Who could barely speak an ounce of Marathi and that too with that silly English accent. Who she thought she was fooling? Or even here parents, who thought that Marathi was just too LS (low style) and speak in English. Well I am proud, that I can speak fluent Marathi, without accent and I take every available opportunity to speak in Marathi with a person who speaks Marathi. It brings me closer to other brethren speaking Marathi. But yes. I always stopped from making a clan like many of my TDP or gurjar colleagues, as I always hated the alienated feeling they created in me. When they non stop spoke in their native language. It made me feel just so out of place.
Excellent star cast with sachin khedekar (netaji subhashchandra Bose) playing the lead and actor/director Mahesh majrekar playing Shivaji maharaj’s role. Wonderful music by ajay-atul, especially the “afzal khan” powada (a kind of song sung in favor of a king, and his bravery), was absolutely rocking. And the back ground electric guitar tunes, simply foot tapping.
What more can I say…I loved it. Maybe because it didn’t propagate anything but just said…”be proud to be a maharshtrians”

I voted finally…

Voting. A thing I always believed in. I remember when I was for my legal studies course, a professor of ours had given this statement. “if you don’t vote, you have no right to comment”. This statement had deeply impacted my views somewhere.
This time the voting was difficult as we had planned to be out of town at that time. Somehow the things didn’t materialize and I was able to vote. Secondly, the place where I stay after the marital status change is quite a bit distance from the place to vote aka. Mom’s place. But I passed that hurdle too. Last and the biggest hurdle was who to vote for. Now this was the big and nasty question. I followed the usual tracks, of using the negative technique, we use in just so many exams. I ruled out the parties propagating any kind of division of caste and creed, regionalism, language and religion. I have always hated those who propagated all this. Why should a person from another region pose a threat to us. Does that mean that we shouldn’t go to US or UK? We are also in a way posing threat to the residents there. Talking about Hinduism etc. I guess Hinduism is one of the most flexible religion I have come across.why should this just so amazing religion become a cause for campaigns? These and such became the “voting out” criteria for me. And I finally voted with a mark as “voted” on my left hand third finger. I was happy. Maybe I didn’t vote a good party.But I voted the bad among the worse and worst. For that reason I was relieved.

My Friday treat

I have since some days back started this Friday treat. its fun, its one thing that I am doing my self…enjoying the solitude . What do I do is I go and have a sandwich.
A sandwich vendor near my home sells OKish sandwiches. I like a sada without butter. Garnished with sev.since I don’t have next day hassle since next day is Saturday, I manage to savor each piece. Bite by bite. It is not much but my mind becomes absolutely fresh. Sometimes treating my self also with a chocolate slice cake of mogenis…Maybe it’s not much but it ends my Friday and starts my weekend with real good enthusiasm.
The moment I bite into the first piece of sandwich my mind realizes…”weekends here”

Of mefuz etc

"mehfuz" or safe in urdu. when ever I hear this song from "euphoria" band, I simply fall in love with the way the song unfolds slowly. The way Palash sen the lead singer of the band has actually made this song full of emotions. I am amazed by the way the emotions flow in every word of the song. the video is made similarly, just so soft."tere aakhon ke chupe dard mein ...yaadon ki tarah mehfuz hoon" the song itself talks about importance of a person, death of a close person ,how it shatters us, and this dead person is trying to console you saying that, "hey...I am not dead yet...I am safe ...in you". It brings just so much optimism in a pessimistic life of living after a loved person who is no more. We want that person to be with us. But that which is not possible any more. For you to understand how do I feel when I hear this song…full blast on Mp3 or low key on laptop. What I would like to do is hear it on a nice record player…whatsay…full volume EKDUM lapchik

Some things fascinating…

Some days before, I came across these and such concepts. Blame it on Paolo Coelho’s Brida or my love for Greek mythology in general, that I felt like noting down. A friend of mine had once told something about soul mates and in one of Greek mythology google hunts I came across this …interesting and logical concept given by Plato in “Symposium”
[Primeval man] could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast…Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods... Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said: 'Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and improve their manners; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.'
—Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium, [1]
Humans originally consisted of four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces, but Zeus feared their power and split them all in half, condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other half to complete them
Interesting isn’t it?

For the ones who suffer the ones who get up and go

Recently too many things are piling up on my really small brain all the times. Not that I mind the pileup. If not pleasant, it makes some one else lighter and I am happy that I am the one who is burdened with all this. I am happy that I can share the sadness and I disappear promptly when there is happiness. Since it is in sadness that some one needs you the most and rarely when one is happy.
Separation can be painful for both the partners. Especially when you see that all the dreams that you has seen with the person will never materialize, not in this life. Some times it is just not possible to be with a person. It can be an emotional torture for the person who is more into it. Separation is the delayed cremation to a relationship that is dead long time ago and when all revival attempts both natural and artificial have been exhausted. What can you do? Can you really leave and go ahead just like that? Without even looking once behind. Few people can manage the feat. Tears become like your friends. But at some point even they leave you. The only medicine is time. That’s what they all say. But is it? Is it so easy to do just a shift+delete to all the memories, the time we spent with this person who once upon a time was the most special person in your life? Never. What can we just do is pray and pray…that at some point you can get out of the whole fiasco and just move ahead. Never tempted to glance behind. A change of scene usually helps. Where everything’s new for you to paint new memories then.
Wish I could eraze the dregs and bring you back to where you were before
The next thing that always chews my head. Is that relationship that has always been from time immemorial defamed and for the right reasons? I am seeing the examples every now and then. There are few of my closed ones who are daily going through that torture. A seemingly hard person can be seen crying by the barbed and comments that actually break you. Who gives the other person a right to hit on you? Give generic, careless and hurting comments? Blame game having no bounds and give curses. Why? Only because that person has achieved a feat and managing everything that the jealous never could??? Who gave ms jealous to remove the nooks, to show the gaps. Is thy name perfectionism? Maybe the person may have worked in a particular way, achieved a feat that took years to complete and become a master. Can an apprentice be the same as the master? Is it only an expectation of perfection, a thing to do in a particular way or just plain jealousy that the apprentice has managed to pick up a feat for which the master has taken years to accomplish?
From the perfectionism viewpoint. Not every one has the same viewpoint. Why even try to impose ideas to others? Suggestion is on hand ok, on the other hand constant suggestions only amount to nagging. if a person is a small child still understood, but if the person is a grown up, constant nagging (or suggestion giving) helps rarely, it fact it makes the person almost antagonistic towards you. Please keep the suggestions to thy self and give them only when asked. Free things rarely have a value. Even if one seems to be perfect in some aspects, one may not be able to handle other aspects correctly. That which the other person is managing efficiently. The situations also matter. The amount of time in hand also matters. The more time you have the more perfect you can be. Look at the situation too. Maybe if one is not doing a thing in a particular manner and few shortcuts used by other person may seem unnecessary for others. But for the other person they are really important. In short what one expects other person to do, Do it yourself and just shut up. All persons are made with different brains and respect god’s wish .and when help required, it will surely be asked for.
Wish I could speak for you. Wish I could fight for you. If not anything besides hearing at least do some tit for tat only for you
About jealousy: sorry nothing can be done here. The person needs to improve himself.
What is left in my hand is just pray and pray for the suffering souls, hoping they will find some shade in the whole embroilment
These and such thoughts which have taken ages to collate have finally found themselves in a proper order.
Hope to find many answers to answer all and if not at least god give me strength to be silent

A little bit of my life

sometimes some people need you. for some reason or the other. sometimes a smile and sometimes a joke is enough, sometimes chatter and sometimes silence. this small jot down is for those people who need or have needed me some time or the other...I will be there for you always

With my friends and family and fun and career it will also be for you
The phase that you are going thru is actually not meant for you
But still you have to go thru…that’s the fact…but u will never be alone, I will always be with you.
Maybe I can never give answers to the questions but you will have someone to speak to
I am always there for you, just call me and I will be there with you
Always, a little bit of my life will be for you

Weekends out: Alibaug

After a really long time we managed to go out on a getaway, to alibaug.we had been planning trip to alibaug since ages but it never seemed to materialize. Something or the other came in our way. and one fine day, everything put to place, we headed to alibaug. we caught the catraman running and the next 45 minutes we spent were bliss, inspite of head aching motor sound and the crowd. we saw the city departing from us and another port coming to receive us. We saw ships of various companies and of course private yachts...the misty city with its formidable taj waved us and wished us luck. It was indeed an experience with flock of sea gulls following the catraman, and leaping at any food thrown in their direction. Such dexterity and such a white beauty. The mandva port was good. Not the “hi-fi” kind, but beautiful in the sense of “rustic”, we went by a 45 min rickshaw ride to our destination. The environment was cool. as we had not booked a hotel, we went in search of one. After a seemingly long trek, we found one. With a strictly ok room. We were not going to be “roomed in” anyways so an OK room would also do for us. we had a short nap, and after lunch, headed to ST stand for “Murud janjira”. Which we were told was just 30 kms ahead. The bus took time (45 mins late to be precise) to come and later due to some spite, took some time to leave. What I enjoyed about the trip was that most of the time the sea and road matched. And sea is my weakness. I never seem to get enough of it. And so it turned out that Murud was good 50 kms…we reached almost by 5.30 pm there and by that time the last boat to janjira fort had already leftL…so we trudged back and got down almost after duck to Kashid beach. This was an experience in itself. a beach totally unsoiled by channavalas and bhelpuri walas. Surrounded by pine trees and black stones. The only shops were that at the entrance with hammocks strewn about. These shops sold bare minimals, with chips, and “anda pav”,”omlette pav” “bhurji pav”and the ubiquitous Maggie. Being a vegetarian, I feasted on the Maggie which never tasted that good in the pitch dark sea , no street lights and candle lights. We then waited for a bus, some mode of transport. But transport seemed to elude us. No a single bus or rickshaw. The shops fast closing and pitch black road. The beautiful sky crowded with stars. Finally we got a rickshaw. And I regretted wearing a short sleeved shirt with capris…cold cold everywhere. The rickshawwala left us at one of the bus stops, where we almost immediately got an ST for alibaug. Exhausted we reached alibaug and after a light dinner with paan and chikki we reached the hotel to rest. Sleep engulfed us as soon as we hit the beds. the next day early morning we trekked to alibaug beach. A beauty in itself. And as it was low tide, we skirted our way to “colaba” fort.. Situated in the middle of sea, and seemingly inaccessible in high tide…this fort even in its dilapidated state looked formidable. We had our fill and trudged back. On our way we had some chai and later hot samosas and jalebis and our breakfast was done. We checked out and headed by share a rickshaw to nagaon beach. beautiful in it self. This was one of the populated beach, maybe because of the day time. But still not having the “bhelpuri valas” and hence cleaner maybe??? We waddled with the waves and later like crocodiles drying in the sun. we walked a lot , especially to get dry ASAP. The more secluded part of the beach was strewn with sea shells of all forms and colors and “samudra fen” and small cute crabs dodging us and digging holes in sand only to disappear…what a cute sight it was. But the walk was good and not at all hot and humid. And after having a snack of bhurji pav, chikki(my fave, here it comes again) we headed back to alibaug.By luck we got hold of an early catraman and skipping a not that imp lunch, we headed back a bit exhausted and we were back on Sunday, a bit earlier that expected. (Much to my relief)
An exerting but good trip for us. And a truely completely wonderful experience.

क्यों, हार गए न हम!!!

देख लो दर्पण, क्यों हार गए न हम
हो स्वार्थ सर्वोपरि, तो जलना है वतन

धर्म बना बोझ, भर चुका है अहम्
किस किस को कोसे, सब तो हैं दुश्मन

वोटों की गिनती में भूले अपना कर्म,
अपनों को लूटने में नेता हैँ मगन

जो बदलेगी सरकार, तो बदलेगा बर्तन
पर तरक्की के नाम पर फिर मिलेगा कफ़न

पुतलों को जलते देखा है, काश नेता होते दहन
पापियों का ये घडा, कब भरेगा भगवन

आतंक भूले, षडयंत्र भूले, भूल गए शहीदों के यतन
ये नरमी पड़ रही भारी, क्यों हार गए न हम

सहेंगे, न कहेंगे, गर कहा तो कुछ न करेंगे हम
बरतेंगे संयम, क्यो हार गए न हम!!!

-अमित

Heartfelt

Dejected I sat at my seat. just when I thought that I had gained something, I lost it allthen I reasoned out. why? why so much in learning in one go?the brain cannot be infinite sponge but will surely learn if you just give yourself time. the work that i now found easy, once upon a time I felt burdened by itthe same thing will happen to this work too. and within no time I will be exceling in it. what I just need to do is give my self time to learn and keep the zest of learning alive. leaving the ghosts of failure aside

Ghost factories

Nothing is ghastly about this. For almost a year now I am staying in Thane. A place well known (in and around wagle estate) for its industries. But whenever I see anything old and deplorable and more than that deserted, any structure for that matter, it sets me to wonder, what brought this state to this structure? What was that that robbed a structure of its past glory?
Most of the times however I see “court receiver” board on it. At such times I get some kind of answer to my question. That there may have been some kind of feud between families or the company it self went in loss (this can be seen when a bank’s board is also attached to it), but sometimes I get no answers to my questions.
My bus takes the usual LBS route to my bread and butter. On my way I see enormous single storey ghost factories, some of them are as follows:
Modella textiles (closed due to legal dispute, court receiver’s board can be seen)
Ralli wolf or wolf electric tools (no idea why it got closed, may be union dispute the company may have got shifted else where)
Wellcome Burroughs and Wellcome (which kind of factory not known)
Some of the closed down factories lost themselves to new upcoming malls or multi storey buildings some others are waiting to be broken down. When? God knows. Some structures I found at Marol (andheri) and at bandra, vile Parle (when the bus from andheri turns for Mithibai college) and Mahim (some abandoned houses, you can call them bungalows, glorious once upon a time, with their old structures, caught in dispute…, but those were very few and had their answers logically attached to them, with the help of black and white court receiver’s board.
Walking by or passing by these sites make me wonder their past. What must have been when such structures were buzzing with activity? How they must have looked then when they still were adorned with paint which now looked just so hopelessly peeled off? What happened to the people who lived there? Did they perish by the blow of a lock out or managed to bounce back? Do they really have some “noorie” hidden inside, ready to pounce on anyone at night? These and such questions always puzzle me and I wonder I could ever get answers to these questions.

Another trip to Goa

My sister, my mother and my self had to go to Goa last week for some religious occasion accompanied with us was a brat called “Bandar” alias my nephew.
The earlier day after work and winding up at home I left for my mom’s place by bus as next day the train was early in the morning. On my way I came across many Christian places, now distinguished by their “stars” lamps for Christmas on the Christmas eve. The whole journey was eventful as I was fascinated seeing the beautiful lamps emanating the mysterious red or yellow light.
Half asleep I reached home. A bit late. My nephew was already there and was waiting to sleep even if his mother was trying to make him go to sleep. Stealth that I never knew before, I tried to enter bed, but he got up and called me “pachi” and hugged me…I smiled all the days exertion seemed to wear off it was only after this short meeting that he went off to sleep.
The next morning in a hurry we finished off everything and after hailing a taxi, headed towards the station in cold early morning. The train was miraculously on time and we with bag baggage one of which was not staying in place at all (who else except the “Bandar”) managed to get into the train. Later life was full of events with my nephew not staying at one place and giving us missed heartbeats the moment he was out of sight. We devoured poha (which my sis thought was free as the last time we went the food was included in train fare but this time the poor girl had to pay for it) and sandwiches and teas and coffees. We reached the destination in the early evening. And after a wash and short tea break we headed to the market since my sis (here she comes again) wanted to buy stuff “exclusively” from Goa. (Nope not feni) like “tirfal”, “kokum”, “sukke mase” and “amsat” etc. my sis incidentally wanted to buy “Christmas” sweets from the store. As per my suggestion we got hold of the same from mongenis. Outside was a person painting tattoos on people’s hands for free on the day of Xmas. As a token of Christmas when I offered him a pastry, his simple face showed so many joys that I thought that the day was worth it.
We came to our place and it was beautifully lit with lights including the deepastambha ( a structure found at every old temple of Goa, where lights/diyas are decorated).after having an early hearty “Satwik” meal in the canteen, we went to our room for some rest before the “aarti” at the temple. Finally the bong sounded and we went in the direction of the temple. Before aarti there was a round outside the temple with decked up beautiful idol of the goddess, this time on a beautifully lit peacock. My nephew aided in pushing the peacock, how proud we felt of him at that time. The procession ended as magnificently as it had started, with the beautiful aarti (the chants actually vibrate as they are supposed to) and later generous Prasad of fruits, sweets etc.
The next day passed in flurry with the gorgeous ladies performing the abhishek and me managing the brat J lunch was simple and wholesome fare at the purohit’s place (the one who performed our puja), after having a real sleepy nap, we headed for a toofan mail visit to other temples, buying papads and achars in between. Dinner was again in the canteen and after the aarti we headed to our room for packing. The next day after completing 21 “pradakshanas” I headed with my sister to “maruti chi tekdi” where I saw a kingfisher and fog draped Goa and warm early rays of young sun and smelt the lush of greenery and freshness. A fragrance that I always loved…after coming down, we had a hearty breakfast and we headed to the station. Such was our jet age trip to Goa. The main thing that I enjoyed was being with my sis and mother for a trip after a really long ago, the place where we stay and the simple life there. People who don’t have much but are happy in what they have and don’t pretend with what they don’t. The simple food and simple living where I would love to come again and again, not as a tourist but as a native.

Of mid afternoon snacks.

My mother was a perfect example of working woman. Getting up by 5.15 am and starting the day, with our dabbas, lunch, fresh hot breakfast every day (like poha,upma,idli and dosa) and getting impeccably dressed to rush to the office on dot.buying vegetables and coming home after a real long day to prepare another dinner, all freshly made from the scratch.the dinner would be sureshot be ready by 8.00 pm. How did she manage this feat single handedly only god knows. In between she used to make chips etc for us over hungry children. What I learned from her is perfectionism and time management. We will leave “aai puran” for some other time.
So on a Saturday (when aai had half day) or Sunday afternoon or early morning, when we used to be hungry and not interested in having something readymade. After mock irritation aai used to get up and prepare something. Kailoli or dadpe poha, gul pohe or appe. Sometimes roomali vadi (depended on chaas availability J) or onion bhajjis if we were lucky. I loved dadpe pohe so much that I used to take it for my german class as mid morning snack, though I used to get few morsels of it after my friends raided on it. Then there was kailoli that I used to almost gorge straight from the tava, huffing to let out the steam. Sometimes she would make crispy idli chura or chapatti chura, which never seemed enough.
If you are wondering what is kailoli, it is a kind of dosa made only from rice flour, chopped onions,coriander, finely chopped green chilly and salt. This dough was then ladeled to make a thin “uttapa” on the pan. Drizzled lightly with oil and cooked from both sides, it was simply mindblowing the fresh taste of onion and fragrance of coriander with small bombs of chillies. Indeed this is one dish, so simple and so easy to make, something that I almost always prefereed. Next to dadpe pohe ofcourse

“aahista aahista” the current rewind repeat

Leaving aside Bipasha Basu and story of Bacchna eye hasinoon (what can I say but I like usual slapsticks too…unless there is no proper storyline) , what I really liked were songs. They were not mind blowing but really nice music. There was lucky boy portrayed on Bipasha basu, or “khuda jaane” on doe eyed deepika padukone. Then there was title track, a nice remix of old and new song “bacchna eye hasnoon” the old was all time favorite (sung by none other that the versatile singer and my all time fave, Kishore Kumar)but this new remix was good too. Not a remix actually, only the music and first CH or paragraph that is repeated, was used, the remaining was entirely new…(of what was remaining)
The best song of the lot was however called aahista aahista sung by Shreya ghoshal and lucky Ali. The music was actually good, with my fave instrument guitar used. while lucky ali’s voice compliments the high pitch required for the song, the best part I found was the double voice of Shreya ghoshal, one a very low voice and another high pitched, that gave the song its flavor…the mingling of two voices, that meanwhile one singer stops singing, the other starts…that created a fantastic continuity in the song…The another factor here was the stanzas…both the singers are actually singing two different songs….if you notice it…while the female voice is saying one thing, the male voice is saying something else, not continuously that we find confusion but rapidly one after each other so that we keep a track and the effect is real nice mixture…using “confusion” will just negate whatever I am trying to say.
The second stanza starts with piano rapidly playing to the heartbeats used in the songs right from the start. And the “ohoho…” sung effortlessly by Lucky ali, surely made this song repeat a million times in the office VLC media player or the Sony mp3 that I hear in the commuting time. This song simply makes me want to sing karaoke…But just imagine the terror in bus or office, and its not the first time that it has happened.

One such pandu

Our bike was halted due to heavy traffic on the sunday, when we were coming from mumbai after a hearty meal at mom's of belated makarsankranti.The next turn would be ours. I was sitting akwardly on the bike ,juggling with heavy bag of maa's goodies like gulpoli and gajar halwa.there he was standing in that sultry sun instructing the people with his hands when and how to go .a bit irrate with traffic and sun maybe.he asked for a pan from the roadside vendor and voila ...promptly paid him for that:) I smiled at my self...Wow, thats good...this is one person who must be earning a pittance and still wanted to buy the pan for himself by his money. I always thought that even in police force (who I feel are the most abused and poor lot. who will resort to corruption then? mostly those who have just no option, if u cant feed the family how can you think of wrong and right? afterall when a person if acutely hungry, will he think that robbing is bad?) the traffic police are poorer lot with lesser salary,bad work conditionslike continious kaukau of the vehicles and standing and instructing the vehicles even in nastiest rains.and still they go on.It was one such pandu that I saw. who could have had a freebee but still paid for his own paan

Of bread and cakes..

My first memory of bread comes from the aroma of freshly baked gutli pav or our very own desi “French loaf” on lazy Sunday morning smeared with butter and stuffed with cheese made the breakfast for us children at least twice a month and necessarily on a Sunday as that was the time essentially when “dada” or our father used to be there at home. The hard crunch from the freshly baked pav, the saltiness of butter and creamy divine texture of cheese would surely put most of the other breakfasts to shame, even my personal staple “idli sambhar”
Later on came across dinner rolls fresh and warm from the oven, a bit sweet, which never failed to give pleasure or the real sweet toasted “bun bread’ with butter.
Somehow the same relationship I never shared with cakes, brother of bread. Though with a few siblings of cake family I have good relationship till now. A “mawa” cake from a particular parsi bakery in Mumbai or walnut cake. But I essentially hated all the oversweet, frilly cream fraiche cakes and pastries. Too good to look at but somehow I always felt that the real cake got lost in those frills. Again there are two exceptions here a) brownie b) any icing having dark choc in it.
But not too much cream pls. it gives me hives
People never cease to look at me in puzzlement when I tell that I don’t want a piece of cake. The main reason is that I like cake and not cream, so a cake which doesnot have cream will surely appeal me. Laden with fruits and nuts, just the right amount of sweetness brownish crust and semi moist inside, a bite that will surely make you to want more. Those are my preferences pls JJ

All time weakness CHEESE

CHEESE, the name itself evokes many sentiments for me; from the “sada” Britannia processed cheese that was stocked in abundance at my mother’s place to the exotic blue cheese that I got to sample once when I had been to “the resort” for one of my project picnics. I have tried (successfully) to make rock hard “chakka” (extracting all water from curds) already seasoned with caraway seeds (ajwain) finely chopped bits of onion and garlic, I used the end result to spread on the bread and the result was delicious.
Recently I am almost every time hooked on to “discovery travel and living”, especially to their shows showing traveling and the especially those showing foods famous in a particular region. It is from here that I got first idea about “tagine” and viewing real what I had read like “bacon rashers”.
I was delighted hence, when they aired the show “say cheese”. Unable to see the first 2 to 3 episodes, I have become daily viewer of the same. Once I got to know about MUNSTER cheese. As in how is it made to the way it is savoured. I did have idea about cheddar, mozeralla (I love pizzas), and the 4 famous cheeses of France (camembert, brie, rockfort and emmental or stilton of England, after reading a lot, but something visual was altogether amazing.I almost felt that I am with the presenter, savouring the aroma and pleasure of cheese tasting. After the show I was like, “god if there would be one thing that I would ask, it would be to check all these cheeses out”. And this added to my already growing list of “to dos” I guess few people can resist melted cheese between two slices of humble bread. And one thing is for sure. I am NOT one of them

Of olives etc.

When I had told my better half on his onsite visit to US of A to get a packet of olives, little did I know that this one enthusiastic person will get not one but 3 bottles of olives. The list including sun dried tomatoes (sure delicacy with my fav, cheese). I wondered what to do with them. There were non pitted (the seeds were still in) kalamata (green fleshy olives) olives and pitted nicose or black olives. Plus a bonus of olives stuffed with garlic.
They staved my evening hunger after office and before dinner, 3 olives and I would feel that I would live to cook. They added salty and buttery pleasure (all olives are put in brine/salt water mixture to preserve them) to my sandwiches along with melting cheese (one thing I need to have always, though I fight with that a lot), or at times added tingling softness in instant noodles (yes I added them everywhere).
What I liked (after kalamata olives) was stuffed olives concept. Though I tasted ones with garlic, I have read about those stuffed to gills with pimentos (allspice, something akin to pepper).
Yes it depends. The first taste of olive is not that great, very much like first taste of trifala in curry, though I think olives are better. It gets better as much as you taste them. I got to taste them whole in one of pasta combos that my French classes friends had ordered once in a restaurant. Though my friends never dared to taste them, having read about them, I put in my mouth the first olive, and I liked it (having liked salty chips and pickles all my life) but it was the buttery fleshy texture that never left my tongue and made me want for more and more.
An olive adds elegance to a pizza calling it gourmet, it adds taste to a sub and above evokes different from the ordinary taste on your tongue, making you want for more and more

When earthquake leave trails

2008 ended with a bang. Terrorist attacks at places where we never thought anything cruel would take place. the places which were considered as icons of mumbai to the foreigners when they thought of Mumbai.
The after effects and counter allegations etc were seen and are still with the recent probability being war. But people are already forgetting. Is forgetting just a kind of pain forgetting, thinking that if we don’t feel it, it will go away. The care and hatred were just short lived and people went back to their business in a zombie like state, just so unfeeling. But do we have a choice???with perkier statements that “we can change the world…” a teenager statement too much idealism. But check out the practicality. Who has time? We all go blah blah and blah…blame the government, corrupt people etc. but what are we doing to change it? Are we voting? Are we educating or selves? Are we more alert before?
These and such questions boiled in my mind…but what say??? 2009 started with a bang, the collapse of IT giant called “satyam” one of the biggest financial scams. I won’t comment here anything. Firstly I am a layman in all technicalities and a novice in IT. But yes, I would like to say something. That I stopped backstabbing my company. I found that my company is still good enough, paying me for what I asked for and for not loosing me gave me a toy called promotion. But honestly I stopped backstabbing my company since compared to all others it is still in better shape.
What did I learn fom all all this? Well mostly that…when you can’t help about some things…just sweat it out and just think what will happen the maximum. If you have a backup plan you will surely survive.” (usually I guess) :)
This sounds really very insensitive for me too. But what more can I say? after the blasts (continiously) and attacks and riots. My self has become like" ok now where next " kind. It hurts but after a while we all suffer pesticide paradox (when pests get used to side)................The craving for normalcy continues.