Bush Shoed: Why does nobody care?

The President of the world’s strongest democracy; the leader of the free world; one who could demolish the whole world. I am talking about none other than George Bush. Amidst the election campaign and following elections in US, it struck me how politically irrelevant Bush has become today. He has become a bit dormant of late. Gone are the animated speeches, war on terror talks and all those gimmicks. Republicans might have forced him to become mellow, keeping anti-Bush sentiments in mind.

His irrelevancy became all more relevant when an Iraqi reporter threw a shoe at him. I mean come on; a President being thrown a shoe at should/would have evoked sharp feelings among the people. I don’t see much of such reactions, at least neither in the news nor on the blogosphere. Americans seem to have moved on. For them Obama is their man Friday.

What struck me is the fallibility of human being. Some 6 years ago, who would have thought that anyone, leave alone a Muslim would be able to throw a shoe at the President of USA. I read in an article that throwing a shoe is the ultimate insult in the Arab world. Was this anger and insult against President of USA or George Bush? Would Obama also be subjected to the similar treat? Let’s wait and watch. A person, however powerful he may be, has a particular shelf life. This is the biggest strength of nature against us humans. Everyone die one day. Bush era is over in US, so much so that people don’t even care anymore if he is shoed at. At least, not much. As for rest of the world and also liberals among the United States, we can surmise the reaction as,“Usne kaam toh Joote khane waala hi kiya tha”.

जीवन: कठिन या आसान

कभी ऐसा महसूस हुआ है की हम अकेले नहीं है| कोई है हमारे आस पास जो हमें देख सकता है, हमें महसूस कर सकता है| कभी ऐसा नहीं लगता कि जो हमारे साथ हो रहा है वह पहले भी हो चुका है| ऐसा नहीं लगता की हमारी जिंदगी हमारी होते हुए भी हमारी नहीं| अपनी किस्मत पर हमारा कुछ अधिकार नहीं| हम अपनी मर्ज़ी से पैदा भी नहीं हो सकते| हाँ मर ज़रूर अपनी मर्ज़ी से सकते हैं, जब चाहें तब| मतलब यह हुआ की हम अपने लिए अपनी मर्ज़ी से कुछ अच्छा नहीं कर सकते| हाँ बुरा ज़रूर कर सकते हैं, जब चाहें तब|

जब भी में आइना देखता हूँ, मुझे उसके अन्दर एक दूसरी दुनिया दिखाई देती है| मैं ख़ुद को कैद पाता हूँ| पता नहीं उस दुनिया का कैदी हूँ या इस दुनिया का| वह दुनिया असली है या यह दुनिया| मैं अपना अक्स देख रहा होता हूँ या में ख़ुद किसी और का अक्स हूँ|

जब कभी रात को में डरावना सपना देखता हूँ और अचानक नींद खुल जाती है, तब भी मुझे डर क्यों लगता रहता है| अरे वह तो सपना मात्र था, डर कैसा| पर नहीं, मुझे डर लगा रहता है, जब तक कि दोबारा नींद नहीं आ जाती| तो वह डर किसका था, डरावने सपने का या डरावना सपना टूट जाने का| कहीं हमारी जिंदगी दोहरी तो नहीं| हम सपना देख रहे होते हैं या हम ख़ुद किसी और का सपना हैं|

रात को अकेले आसमान की तरफ़ देखा है कभी| मिलाईं हैं कभी आसमान की आंखों में आँखें| टिमटिमाते तारों को देखकर सोचा है कभी, की उनमे से किसी तारे के इर्द गिर्द भी कोई दुनिया होगी| जब हम तारे को देख रहे होते हैं, तब क्या पता उस तारे के किसी ग्रह से हमारा ही अक्स हमें देख रहा हो| वह भी हमारी तरह आसमान को घूर रहा हो|

कौन है वह जो ना होते हुए भी है, क्या वह ही आत्मा है| या वह जीवित है और हम एक आत्मा हैं| आख़िर क्या है सच| क्या आईने में हमारा अक्स हमसे कुछ कह चाह रहा है या वह दूसरे ग्रह वाला शायद या फिर हमारा सपना, हमें कुछ बताना चाहता हो|

जिंदगी कितनी आसान हो जाती है ना, अगर इन सब बातों के बारे में सोचो ही मत| अगर है भी कोई अकेले में, तो अब तक क्यों नहीं आया सामने| अगर अब तक नहीं आया है, तो अब क्या आएगा| आईने में कोई भी दुनिया हो, अगर वह हमें डराती है, तो तोड़ दो ऐसे आईने| मत चिंता करो, दूसरा ग्रह हमसे बहुत दूर है| कोई वहां से चिल्लाएगा भी, तब भी सुनाई नहीं देगा|

उन चीज़ों के बारे में सोचना ही क्या, जिसके बारे में हम कुछ कर ही नहीं सकते| जिंदगी को बेकार में ही, और कठिन क्यों बनाएं|

EMI: Behind the Spirit of Mumbai

In midst of the recent Terror attack on Mumbai, there has been a phrase which is circulating around, “The Spirit of Mumbai”. It drives in a sudden rush of blood. Doesn’t it? It sounds real might and courage. Ultimate fighting spirit and respect to the nation. Whatever happens, life goes on in Mumbai. Such is the spirit of Mumbai. We saw it at the time of local train blasts, when the very next day, local was running full load. However resounding it may seem, it rides on a highly depressing fact, which really no one wants to touch. It’s the compulsion or mazboori as we call it that keeps Mumbai running. If we call the same “the spirit” then so be it.

What’s the compulsion on Mumbaikars that don’t/won’t let them stop? Is it the “never say die attitude” or “I can’t afford to die, helplessness”. What is it? Let’s enquire.

Recently there was a movie EMI which came with a tagline, “liya hai to chukana hi padega” i.e. you have to pay back anyhow. It’s real sad to hear but yes, it’s true. Most of us have EMI compulsions. These EMI are not always of a bank per say. The monthly bill of the grocer, the milkman, the electricity, the water, the children’s school fees, the doctors’ bill for ailing mother, the tension of marriage of the unmarried sister, the landlords’ constant calls for rent, the innocent face of the family that wants to go the new movie, the bare wrists of the wife in need of golden bangles…The list is endless. All these are the EMIs that keep us, Mumbaikars, going. What would we do, if not travel via local? The office is open. We need to work to get paid. The drive of the monthly pay check never let us cease. People call it the spirit.

Authorities take shelter behind this Spirit and we tend to forget the tragedy. Let’s not mistake our helplessness and compulsions to perform, as our Spirit. Each and every Mumbaikar dread for the safety and security of his/her family. It’s an expected behavior.  The problem is that we tend to forget and never learn from these attacks. We just say that Mumbai is standing unshaken. We are shaken, we are scared but there’s no other way round for us but to keep going. The EMI is too strong a force to let us stop.

True citizens of the Nation: Baniyas

t’s an old thing. I had almost forgotten it. Yesterday, we were having a discussion when a friend of mine popped out, “I am a true citizen of the country”. When asked why, he stated coz he is a baniya by caste. I am abaniya too. So when he said that Baniyas are the true citizen of the nation. I couldn’t but spare a laugh.

During my 11th std, there was a teacher of mine who used to tease the baniya students among the lot with the same line. It went like, “Bete aap baniya ho? Are aap to desh ke saache nagrik ho” Dumbstruck when the student looked at him, he explained it further. Everyone would just roll with laughter.

A lot many of us might have read “Desh ke sabse aache nagrik baniye“, painted on the walls, baners, road sides etc. “देश के सच्चे नागरिक बनिए”. Offcially it means, become a true citizen of the nation but just for fun of it we read it like, “देश के सच्चे नागरिक, बनिए”. It’s the game of how u read it (with a pause after nagrik) so it becomes, baniyas are the true citizen of the nation.

So all you baniyas out there, remember, We are the true citizens of the country.

College: A place to make friends

I completed my graduation recently and have taken up a job. The transition phase of life is as complicated as it is exciting. It’s not as if, I had to move for the first time. It’s just that the four years at college imparts stability and in that sense a settling feeling to life. Moving away from the cozy spaces of college to the material world is not as easy as it sounds. It’s not just the college and the hostel room you are leaving behind, it’s far more complicated than that.

At college you begin as a fresher, go through various facets of life, learn zillion things or as they say mature. During the first year you meet a lot of people. Slowly and steadily you find your own comfort space and the people who you are comfortable with. We call them friends. You live a lot of lives with them; you die a lot of deaths with them.

There are times when you are happy and you party with friends. There is time when you all plan a mischief and execute it nervously and then it becomes a routine. They are the people who, even if screw you, you share a laugh with them on your being screwed. The first time when you were holding a drink and you hands were shaking, there were friends who too had shaky hands but gave you a zillion fundas and spoiled you and got spoilt in return. You shared the first smoke with them and had GD over the first adult film you saw. They consoled you when you were down. They carried you on their shoulders when you a bit a too drunk. You shared each and every secret of your life with them. They were your teachers, they were your students. This can go on endlessly.

All of these are not things that one can just brush aside. They remain an integral part of memory which remains etched in forever. A lot has been written over friendship and a lot would be written in future. For me it’s one of the strongest relationships in life. There are times when it goes sour. But when you are in deep trouble you know that there are friends you can bank upon. This for me sums it up.

Ghajini Music: A winner at hand

Music of Ghajini is out finally. It seemed like eternity. On the face of it Aamir+Rahman sounds to be an unbeatable combo. So what does this album have in store for us?

Before going into further, I want to admit that I am not an expert when it comes to the intricacies of music, the nodes and beats so to say. For me the music should be pleasant to hear. One thing I have learned over the years is that there are two kinds of music, one which clicks instantaneously and the other which takes time to grow. Usually Rahmans music is of the latter category (consider Yuvvraaj).

I perform a simple test while rating any album. While at office, I put on my earplug and leave the album on repeat mode. The music which keeps me working and not makes me throw of the earplug is the one that’s good for me. So does Ghajini pass the test?

Yes completely. It takes time to grow, but once it does, it’s addictive. In fact couple of songs click at the first go itself.

Aye Bachchu and Latoo even took my concentration off the work for moments. Both songs are high on octane, compared to the others on the album. They are the ones which will force you to listen to them. Clear winner.

Bekha and Gujarish go with the flow; you would want to listen to them on repeat mode.

The only song which has not got to my ears yet is Kaise Mujhe. I have listened to the album for almost 10-12 times on repeat mode already, but every time I tend to lose Kaise Mujhe. It just goes unnoticed. But still it’s not bad as I haven’t thrown off my earplug yet.

Its 4/5 for me. Rahman betters himself every time. If we thought Jaane Tu was the height this year, well the Everest has grown further.

Stranger on Train: The Handwriting Expert

With the advent of discount airlines in India, frequency of my train travel had become lesser and lesser. I must admit that train travel is an experience of its own. More often than not you meet people who are far from ordinary. You find yourself in situations which you would never find during the normal course of life. Also with each train travel you find more grey hairs on your head, such is the learning you get.

Now that the air fare has sky-rocketed, train travel has once again come back to the fore. This Diwali, we boarded Goa Express from Pune to Agra. Now why didn’t I have confirmed seats and why were we standing through half the journey is a different story altogether and I will cover it up separately. For now I want to tell you about a stranger I met on the train.

Let’s start. I was lying on the upper berth when I heard someone spreading “Gyan”. Don’t ask me how and why, I just know it when some one is giving Gyan. There was this Guy Gyaaning a fellow passenger how to stop eating Gutkha through self control and self motivation. He was a middle aged lean person, whose bald head was shining in my eyes helped by the sunlight from the window. It was a hot day. Apparently, this person was able to study another person by his handwriting. Quite a few passengers were taken aback by his observations about their past and future.

A couple was sitting beside him. The husband in a bid to impress his newly wedded wife; took it upon him to bare the bald con man naked. He jotted down six different signatures of his and threw the challenge to now study him. I could see the wife was really impressed by his hubby’s brilliant stroke as she leaned closer against him. I couldn’t hear what the bald man’s observation were but I could clearly make out the brimming with confidence face of the husband getting paler and paler until he retreated behind his wife, who seemed not much amused now.

I called from above. “Chacha whats up! Whats this art all about”. According to him, this was a quite old American art revived in India by his Guru in Mumbai. He named a number of famous personalities including Sachin Tendulkar who have sought his Gurujis help. According to him Sachin has a certain flaw in his signature which reflects uncertain health issues thus causing frequent elbow injuries. Hmm…Impressive. So the guy knew his art well. I and my friend climbed down to test for ourselves. First me. I wrote down. “My name is Arpit Garg. Tell me something.” It was followed by my signature. He made me write down “dog”, “cat” and couple more of such short words. I was expecting some loose vague remarks, when the very first line he uttered left me shell shocked. I won’t go into detail of the remark as it was something personal about my family. I can only reveal that it was about a relative of ours who has wronged us. Had it been a remark about a vague relative, I would have understood. Instead he pinpointed who the relative was, i.e Chacha, Mama, Foofa, Tau etc. He made certain remarks about my laborious and sharp mind and such other things. By then I wanted to listen no more. When he was about to embark upon my future, I asked him to discontinue. In fact I don’t like predictions about my future in general. But his very first observation about me still lingers in my mind.

I can tell from the faces of people in my compartment that they were quite curious. Many wanted to know about their job prospects, success/failure in business, family, health etc. The usual. Was he a con artist, was he real, was he fake, was he a messenger, was he the Oracle or just a bug.

I have decided to travel by train as much as possible. Come with me. Just one thing. It should be the sleeper compartment. Coz therein lays the true mystic and majestic journey through India.