Random

Today was an absolutely ordinary day apart from the fact that India won the Tri-series. It was a close match and a good one, parts of which I saw in the office canteen. My folks at home are crazy about Cricket, my Dada (Grand-dad) for one watches it with a sort of feverish excitement and Dadi (Grand-mum) is not to be left behind, although she watches only if India is playing. Anyway, I didnt want to write about the game today, I had something else on my mind. This here was an Email sent to me some time back and I loved it. Well I am not putting it up over here just because its one of the funniest forwards sent to me but also because I genuinely want to thank Okhil Babu for standing up against the 'Dam Guard who not wait five minutes'. I cannot express how grateful I am to this man and I don't know what I'd do otherwise (I dare not imagine) :)

This apparently is a true story from Indian Railways.

Okhil Babu's letter to the Railway Department:


"I am arrive by passenger train Ahmedpur station and my belly is too much swelling with jackfruit. I am therefore went to privy. Just I doing the nuisance that guard making whistle blow for train to go off and I am running with 'lotah' in one hand and 'dhoti' in the next when I am fall over and expose all my shocking to man and female women on plateform. I am got leaved at Ahmedpur station. This too much bad, if passenger go to make dung that dam guard not wait train five minutes for him. I am therefore pray your honour to make big fine on that guard for public sake. Otherwise I am making big report! to papers."
Okhil Chandra Sen wrote this letter to the Sahibganj divisional railway office in 1909. It is on display at the Railway Museum in New Delhi. It was also reproduced under the caption "Travelers' Tales" in the Far Eastern Economic Review.
Any guesses why this letter was of historic value?
.
.
. It apparently led to the introduction of toilets on trains

My Favourite Things

I always wonder how time flies the fastest when I don’t want it to the most. It’s March already and here in Hyderabad the heat is already turning on, no not because of Deccan Chronicle buying out Andrew Symonds and Adam Gilchrist for the Hyderabad team, but literally so. I love March, it’s my favourite month. Now I can almost see my family and friends giggle on hearing statements like these. My dad thinks I say the strangest, the most absurd and the bizzarest of things and then come up with the weirdest ways of supporting my ideas while trying to convince him. Well he might not be wrong, coming to think of it, it is actually weird having a favourite month, day of the week etc. at 23(Yes, I do have a favourite day of the week!), but of course my weird ideas and choices merit not just a new post but a whole new blog so, for now I'll stick to what I started with.
Well, its the time of the year when you get your bonuses, your appraisals (good or bad is a different issue), when you are done with your exams and the prospects of the results matter less than the weeks of summer vacations ahead, its when we have Holi and lose our minds completely, its when spring sets in and wipes out the gloomy chill winter days, its when mango trees begin to flower and the smell of raw mangoes fills the air making you want to pluck them and eat till your teeth go sour, its when the earth seems like the most beautiful canvas painted with the brightest and the happiest shades of life. No matter what the circumstances are, the sight of new shoots of grass sprouting out of nowhere or the bright yellow marigolds staring at you defiantly with a promise of good times or the sound of birds chirping at the break of day as if to welcome new life, makes me forget all else except the sheer joy of living. And now as I close my eyes and sit back on my very uncomfortable chair here in office while 20 people shuffle about here and there with a purpose I fail to comprehend, all I see is a vast expanse of green landscape with small hills, lined with pine trees all along the boundary of my vision, maybe a forest beyond, yellow butterflies on white flowers and a little lake down the hill with tall green grass all along its border. Reminds me of the song "These are a few of my favourite things" from the movie "The sound of music". I seem to have forgotten most of the lines but it was one of the first songs that I learnt as a child and has since then always been one of my favourites.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winter that melts into spring
These are a few of my favourite things
When the dog bites, when the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don't feel so bad


I'm uploading the song here. I hope everyone who listens to it is transported back in time to the happiest and the best time of one's life, the days of careless wandering, innocent curiosity and guileless fun, childhood.


Get this widget Track details eSnips Social DNA

Whose city is it anyway ?

Ask me what I want to be and you would have the answer even before you finish the sentence. I want to be a five year old. Yes you heard it right, I want to be a reckless, thoughtless and carefree five year old all my life. Although some of my friends would laugh and say "So typical of Meghna to say that, afterall all three year olds want to grow up!” But seriously wasn’t childhood the best thing that happened to all of us? (Well, almost all and I deeply sympathise with the unfortunate few who were denied it), I remember feeling happy on seeing a heap of sand and running towards it to reach there first and sit right at the top, I remember playing stupid games, I remember having lots of friends to play with all the time but what I don’t remember is where they came from. I never tried to find out whether they were Muslims or Hindus or Kashmiris or Tamilians or Dalits or Brahmans or poor or rich, nothing. The thought didn’t ever occur to me. During my formative years I lived at various places, in fact I have a record of changing my school every two years. In spite of this I never thought we could be called anything else apart from being called Indians. And I am not exaggerating when I say this.
In fact it was not until First grade that I was enlightened with the knowledge of being a Bihari, or so I am called. And this also was told to me only after I told my class teacher that I was a Marathi! Well what exactly happened was that we had a function in school and all of us were supposed to be dressed as brides and grooms from our respective states, the theme was to show the cultural diversity in India or something like that. So our teacher called us all and we were asked about our native place. When it was my turn I was totally zapped and told the teacher I didn’t know where I was from!! I remember her laugh and pinch my cheek gently (She thought I was a really cute dumb kid!). So she asked me where I lived before I came to Bangalore and I promptly and happily told her Aurangabad, Maharashtra (I was happy that I was at least able to answer that) and then she looked at my last name which was Pandey and she took it to be the 'Pande' or 'Des Pande' from Maharashtra and asked me to dress up as a Marathi bride for the show. I was happy to be chosen for a part in the play and went home to tell my mom. I then remember my mom laugh and pinch my cheek (apparently she and the teacher held the same opinion of me, my mom being a little sad about the dumb part though) and that’s when she told me I was a Bihari. I wonder what Raj Thackeray has to say that.
The recent events in Mumbai make me think as to where I belong. I always thought there is no place like India and I knew for sure that no matter where I go, I would never feel out of place throughout the peninsula, be it Ladakh or Guwahati. I always thought that nothing could ever replace the warmth and love that I find in my country, not money and not the standard of living that people talk about, nothing. But I was wrong, I was terribly wrong. Throughout my life I have seen my country fight over religion, over ethnic differences, over languages, over rivers, over caste disparities within religions and now over cities. Where does all this lead to? Do the so called leaders know what they are doing when they continuously come up with new ways of ramifying the society? I do not see a nation grow while its states operate as individual entities in isolation, what is the purpose of being called a nation after all? Anyway even if that’s the case where do people like me go, which state do we call our own? I don’t even know how to find my way back home from the railway station in Bihar, how then do I call it home.

As far as the criticism against Amitabh Bachchan, about not giving back to Mumbai is concerned, well I didn’t complain when Nagma's bhojpuri movies topped the charts and she went around with Sourav Ganguly( a Bengali) instead of Manoj Tiwari, now come'on she should give back to the bhojpuri community by marrying into it only and thus look for prospective grooms only within the community, or when Madhavan migrated down south to do Tamil cinema instead of giving back to Jharkhand, which was outrageous as he did his schooling there while depriving the native Jharkhandi children of their right to education. As per the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena, Madhavan should have definitely done Bhojpuri cinema and entertained the Biharis, what say Raj? But if Raj Thackeray knows what he is doing and if he thinks all this will solve the problem of unemployment in his state and thus make India more self sufficient then I believe he should be given an opportunity to prove his point. Let him come out with his strategy, the facts and the figures, let him explain how the native Maharashtrians are deprived of their livelihood while the bhaiyas peacefully drive their taxis and how many of these deprived will actually have the resources to buy a taxi when there aren’t any more migrants in the state, or does Raj plan to do some charity here to provide employment to his people? The other issue that was raised in Mumbai to support their claim was that the Bhaiyas are not well behaved....Ahem Ahem.....well I dont think I should even start on that, its one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard and that’s all I'll say about that.
Well I guess the problem is not just in Maharashtra. The recent events in Mumbai do remind us of the incidents that took place in the North East. So much for India talking about globalization, global integration and inter dependence while its leaders talk about internal isolation and disintegration. The people in Andhra also talk about a new state. Looks like throughout our 60 years of independence we spoke so much and for so long about the 'Diversity and Variety in India' that now we always fail to see a common ground. As CNN IBN rightly puts it, “Whose city is it anyway”?

The world has lost it's sheen


If you have read Roots or Papillon or Shantaram or have seen the movie The Shawshank Redemption then the answer to the question, What is the most important thing in the world?, would most likely be Freedom. Freedom of course can mean lots of things to various people. As far as I am concerned, I haven’t had to break away from a prison or escape slavery, and I thank my stars for that. But doesn’t the word also mean the freedom to make choices and decisions of your own. No, I am not trying to sound victimized here, I love my life and I love my people and that’s exactly what my problem is. When you love and care for certain people, you get bound by it. In a way love binds you to take decisions which are although yours to say but, bound by the feelings and emotions of several others. Although I haven’t yet figured out whether that is good or bad , I know for sure it is rather a luxurious kind of freedom that I talk about, but that is just a euphemism to being called obdurate. In real terms and as I see it from a child's perspective, a child say forced into labour or denied basic necessities and that’s not just food and water but a lot of other things that we take for granted, this is what I think might just be a part of what really goes on inside him.



As I look out of my window,
Bend a little and lean,
I see a whole new world,
A world bathed in light,
A world, vast and serene.
The little dew drops,
On leaves beautifully green.
The stars rain down,
And on the river bed they all gleam.
I see a thousand children
And watch them as they run,
Careless and free.
And there by the tree I also see,
Wild daffodils dance in the breeze.
And it’s at times like these
I wonder what it is about
Pleasures so mean
That makes me want to soar
Over mountains and valleys unseen.
And if it pours
I will dance by the lake
While the birds sing and preen.
But as the rainbow fades
The daffodils disappear and
The children no longer scream
The birds grow silent,
The lakes frozen
It looks like a wrongly painted dream.
Now the window is shut and
The world seems to have lost its sheen.


When the world was my only shell


I am not the typical movie buff who would do anything to get that 'First day first show' ticket. I wouldnt do that, no not even for Aamir Khan. Instead I would call myself a prudent fan. Its only when a movie has been highly recommended to me that I decide to go and watch it. Dor was one such movie. There is no point talking about how good the movie was or appreciating the actors and the script, all that has been done. So as a tribute to good cinema and to the young widows I wrote this.

The lilting laughter by the well,
the yellow of the marigolds
The sound of a thousand bells
or the days when the world was my only shell.
The colours, they say , are gone too.
The sun once shone brightly upon me
but they say even thats gone with you.
The blues though, I am allowed to keep
and not to forget the black too.
But then how do I still see all of it,
Maybe its a mirage,maybe its true.
In the garden the roses still bloom,
and the marigolds, they still shine
maybe even a deeper yellow when I think of you.
You didnt give me the world
Then how do they say you took mine with you.
The first drop of rain, the clear skies,
my spring and my autumn too,
I know they are still all as much mine,
as when I had shared them with you,
I know it, I do.
The colours are all there too,
A splash of yellow, a sprinkle of red
and just a dash of blue.
Oh! how I wish I would have them,
Oh! I wish it were all true.

Bread and the Circus

With all the debate on Sonia vs Modi in the Gujarat polls , here is what the Romans have to say about it. Well I guess they might just have a point there. Many of us might not have the bread but we sure have the circus and the most entertaining one, don't we?