An(na)Shun!

"So I heard you're in love?" One friend asked me, while I was holding open the pallu of my hypothetical sari, on phone, for him to drop a job into.
Evergreen Hindi Cinema being such a constant source of inspiration in my life, I could hardly resist. "Jab garibi darwaze par dastak deti hai, na? Tab pyaar Khidki se koodkar bahar nikal jaata hai!" I sighed heavily. Not one to be left behind, he shot back " Don't talk to me about garibi! I invented the boodhi maa and vidhwa behen who stitch at home, as I go out to study." I went into peals of laughter.
However, a thought crossed my mind. There is another hard-to-ignore figure starving alongside the boodhi maa and the vidhwa behen. In fact, he could be the saviour of those species in this country. Or so claim the people whose lungs have often threatened to fall out of my television screen in the last few days.
No, I have nothing against him (Apart from the fact that I dare not!). I am aware, in his way, he does more for the country than I do. I know it, as a friend and I sit stirring our coffee and moaning about love, quite oblivious to the candle march right opposite us.
Though, I did notice a candle holding youngster crying out to people to 'honk if you support Anna in his fast', from amidst mouthfuls of chicken frankie. I respect the effort. I bit back an 'Isse kya hoga!' out of sheer respect! After all, we know our nation can change. And its hard to hold a candle in the soon-to-be-September rain!
Scorn me if you dare, for my humour! But this indifference is growing everywhere. It was our reaction to the umpteenth bomb blast in the city. It can be seen meandering through fish markets; where wares are sold and bought despite the black oil meandering through mangroves and the beach. It can be seen gurgling around status updates singing praises of the cholera imparting Mohammed Ali Rd. savouries. Its been submerging the timeless candle marches, fasts and protests of the nation.
Although, I can never deny that Hope did come out of Pandora's box too!
In fact a friend of mine (who I am very proud of by the way) actually calls up to report the service she renders to the nation daily, at grass root level in the villages. And I do hang my head in shame as I feel the cynical indifference silently creeping up on me, and then lament to her about how long I haven't seen the love of my life in! Phew!
Be not discouraged by the likes of me, reformers! May success tire of eluding you people, who have better souls than me!

But I believe I can fly!

Mummy, Daddy, Son and Daughter at Delhi airport, waiting for their dreamt of and envied flight to Leh. How do you know its Delhi airport? The daughter heard giggly, shrill, Haryanvi accented girl voices go "Nazron se kha jaayenge!" Then the men at the airport, age no bar, elaborate on the meaning of the phrase!
From then on, everything that happens strange, could only happen because it is Delhi airport! That includes too much saffron in the otherwise tasteless biryani and women blabbering away on their phones for hours, inside the loo, while others are hopping in helplessness outside it. Leh! Aur Leh! Yeh Bhi Leh!

What then should happen if, God seriously forbid, they miss their flight? Let's add to that a rude, prissy hostess, open to quarrel, telling them that by no means will she let them in. Swad bigda aur mirchi bhi lagi?!
All hell breaks loose! Mummy thinks Daddy didn't listen to her and sat miles away from check-in. Daddy thinks Mummy took hours in the loo. Son thinks nobody understands a thing. If they had to listen to him, they would be in that flight. However, he does support his Mummy fiercely against his tyrant Daddy, (only until she hasn't begun with how its his fault too!) because Daddy always does this to his Mummy and the whole family! The daughter, who some time back slept with a gaping open mouth, dare not open her mouth now.

Daddy is a stubborn tyrant, who thinks he is right no matter what! Mummy can't let go of things and cope with crisis like a mature person! The son is angry at everyone and will actively participate in whatever or whoever is being bickered about! The daughter thinks to herself, 'once I open my mouth, everyone will shut up', being the apparently wise and most grown up there; in spite of being the youngest!
This always happens! You always do this! That hostess be cursed! Lord, they just won't stop! Finally the daughter bursts forth "This is not happening because of anyone or anything. Its happening because we cannot be together as a family anymore! At least when we are at home we can go away from this and come back to deal with it. We aren't stuck together like sardines in a can. But, not one more family trip, I promise you that!"

Grave silence! She was right. When she would open her mouth, everyone would shut up. It doesn't feel the same, though. Their crestfallen faces tell her that their raging battlefield just became a grim expanse of strewn corpses. She just told them that Santa Claus doesn't exist!
The father silently leaves to fight for his family, alone! The mother silently drowns herself in her prayer books, alone! The son keeps a hand on the mother's shoulder, trying to console her, or himself, alone! The daughter? Well, she just deserves to be alone!

The next few minutes drag their feet past, while the family prays for a miracle to cause a turn of events. Suddenly, Daddy comes with a smile that nearly eats into the rest of his face. They have got into this lucky lot of people that got issued free tickets on the next flight. Relief!
They walk to check-in, smiling. Each looks at the faces of the other three with silent contentment. 'This happiness on the face of my family? This is due to the miracle that I prayed for! Of course, I would do a lot more for them.'

The flight is cancelled for today. Damn you, fate at Delhi airport! Delhi smirks wickedly. It claimed Abhishek Bachhan from the dead in 'Delhi 6'; this flight is nothing! 'Kaun jaaye ae Zauq, Dilli ki galiyan chhod kar?'
Oh, how they hate Delhi and kingfisher flights, together!

PEE for Pani Puri

Pani Puri! The sound of it and there is a huge crunch in my mind already, making way for cold, spicy meandering and piping hot ragda or the lesser substitutes. Sort of like the breaking of a dam and the flooding of a river, but in a nice way. My taste buds tingle almost dutifully!

What chocolate does for the world, pani puri used to do for my friends and me. Some of our worst fights were miraculously forgotten over this.
Then it became so much more special when my tiny scrap of a niece said "Paani Pooyi!"
All that taken away from us and millions of others by one vendor, who decides to de-stress in his own wares! He wouldn't care two hoots about the heartaches (in possibly more ways than one!) that he would have given over the city.
It never fails to shock me how people like him, who practice stock clearance, do not mind not clearing their conscience! I mean, with the sanitation of the pani puri getting costlier by the day, where are we poor people supposed to go with our hankering for it?
Earlier in the scenes of a movie, hero would look on with eyes full of love and longing, while heroine would pop roadside pani puri into her mouth and squeal in delight. Added to the scene, now, will be the vendor looking at her too, diabolically! And the heroine will be a whole new meaning of 'piss drunk' before she embarks on a 'zara sa jhoom loo main..'!
In their world, I would be holding his collar, looking into his utterly shameful eyes and saying "Phir kabhi pani puri ke naam se kisi ke saath aisa dhokha mat karna, Panipuriwale! Warna Duniya mein koi kabhi kisi Panipuriwale par vishwaas nahi karega!" Sadly, that has already happened, so not even my life-changing reproach can hope to have an effect now. All the sweaty hairy arms over the state are being prohibited from drawing spicy water from a vessel swarmed with flies, in a hard, soggy, dripping puri, for fear of utterly disgusting perils!
So goodbye, much fancied roadside pani puri. While you were, you brought smiles to our faces. Smiles that were blissfully unaware of the apavitrata of their cause! Rest In Pe(e)ace!

Aaje ve MAHI tera rasta udik diya!

Headlines today- 'Mahi ke liye akhand jaap'! Mahi means beloved. But you must obviously have traced the 'mahi' in the headlines to Dhoni. And guess what? you were indisputably right!

I suddenly recollect Yash/Aditya Chopra's recent movie 'Dil bole Hadippa', for I could never relate to it until now. He clearly saw what I couldn't. Once again the Chopras' 'Jhappiyon Sa Desh' came together to encourage their jawaans, while they bravely wield their bats at their kurukshetra in mohali. They have love and hope in their hearts; and hatred more potent than the love and hope simmering away, stacked secretly for Pakistan, which might come handy for the Indian players if, God forbid, they were to lose! And obviously we would engage in demoniacal dances and fireworks on the street, if the much-hated Pakistan should lose! *begins to sing innocently* "Yahaan pe ishq hi hai rab aur Khuda, soniya!"

The news channels bleat of people's madness and idiosyncrasies. Food in hotels named after players (for instance Bhajji ke Bhajiye!), bets of shocking amounts of money, huge replicas made of the cup in chocolate, other replicas decorated with flowers and worshipped at holy shrines!
India-Pakistan match did what an earthquake, tsunami and fire in Japan couldn't do! It made people pray, millions of people! People are going on a havan, namaaz and jaap spree everywhere, including Siddhivinayak and Shirdi! Such unity, such piety, such love? It makes one want to say, surely matches are made in heaven!

At this a friend of mine, (name hidden to protect life) said "I will pray for India to lose!" I asked "what is your prayer in the face of the whole nation's?" to which, friend replies "who said I am alone? I have Pakistan praying for the same thing!" Another whole nation praying together for a game, I realised with a sigh! wonder who's team God is in..

But someone somewhere should sincerely pray for the peace of mind of all the players under such immense pressure and the fates of those truly cursed ones, who face the catastrophic burden of losing...May peace be with India and also with Pakistan! Amen!

Soup

The start of all
or perhaps the end
And sometimes
all you have

No More, I beg, no more
and yet never enough..

Same spice
Same texture
Same warmth
Same old drab dose of comfort everyday

But
Burnt one day
Taste buds stung into numbness
Miss their frayed blanket sorely..

Mehnat aur Lagan!

So she blackmails him, with business, to get love back; and he blackmails her, with love, to get business back. They both get the company they want (for those of you who are a bit, lets say innocent, she gets his company and he gets her COMPANY! understood?). Fair enough! From the point of view of those who believe in love and also those who believe in the 'real' love, what movie has been made that is more satisfying? Although initially enraged and disturbed by it, I now, finally see the sense in it! Cheers then to ever-inspiring Bollywood!!!