Absent

I’m not in the present

I look into her eyes
As the music plays beyond
As she swings to the music
As we swing to the music
As everyone swings to the music

As we hold hands
Oblivious to the world
Oblivious to the music
Hands on each other
Face on the shoulder
As we groove
As we hold
As we love

I am in the present
I look into her eyes
Scattered across the hall
As I drain another glass
The rhythm is pounding strong
The beats are hurting
As the music plays beyond
As everyone swings to the music
As everyone dances to the music

And I am never in the present
Should I be in the present?

Na Kajre ki Dhaar

11.30 pm non stop bus from Vadodara to , courtesy the usual ‘W/L1 CHART PREPARED’ on Vadodara express.

A long hectic chorexhausting day when nothing really came to fruition. Both Vodafone and Tata Indicom guys screwed up. Those guys (and all in the league) are born to screw – the customers. Held the line for hours, barged into their offices….but ‘sorry sir, the service has been activated but you got te wrong sim’ and ‘sorry sir, the service is active but something’s screwed up; the matter has been escalated’ … respectively.

The sveltering heat, medical visits, hour long waits, skipped lunch, out of fuel gruel, out of and all that made for a very long day!

Icing on the cake: ‘W/L1 CHART PREPARED’

Flag down a rickshaw at 11.05pm and “Sir: dedh gunaa bhaadaa lagegaa, gyaaraah baj gayaa”.

A typical night. Empty streets. A few families heading home post social visits, a few vehicles parked at the icecream and pan vendors around town, some people loitering; smoke from burnt leaves and exhaust interspersed with dust creating wisps of yellow smoke beneath sodium street lamps & all of that which make a typical small town urban night air.

Amidst all this, the rickshaw wala ups the volume of a familiar old song setting the mood.

Na kajre ki dhaar
Na motiyo ke haar
Na koi kiya shringaar
Phir bhi kitni sundar ho,
Phir bhi kitni sundar ho

Man mein yaar bharaa
Aur tan mein yaar bharaa
Jeevan mein pyaar bharaa
Tum to mere priyavar ho,
Tum hi to mere priyavar ho

Typical night indeed. Very typical. I am whistling after a long time.

Once upon a PM

It’s laughable. Utterly ridiculous.

Scam after scam has defined this PM. Otherwise touted to be one of the most intellectual PMs of , one of the ‘honest ones’ out there, he’s brought nothing but shame and inefficacy.

Hard to believe that he’s the one credited with bringing a positive change to India, once as a minister.

Change?Yes.

He’s made corruption a staple; endemic for a change. A PM who has allowed scams to pop up like pop-corns and he a pop corn vendor. A PM who hardly appears in public, who seems to be the very embodiment of a Kumbhkarna in perpetual slumber. Let the nation shake out of its roots – thou shalt not be perturbed.

So what does the PM do? I wonder. He certainly doesn’t take responsibility for his Team of The Corrupt, that’s for sure.

He’s The One Who Evades. The PM doesn’t see the need to talk to the nation on most important matters concerning the nation. And when he does ineffectively and feebly talk, it’s mostly the last moment face saving farce of an exercise which is too late. By that time the supreme court, the civilians, the media, the social activists … everyone’s given up on him.

You know what … a leader knows his team very well. So it’s highly improbable that the Leader of the Team of The Corrupt didn’t know what’s going on. Unless he didn’t want to know. Unless he was (a part of) The Team of The Corrupt.

However no one really talks about the PM. Is the PM above reproach? Is he Mr Integrity personified?

Intellectual?
Rethink.

Honest?
Rethink.

I used to believe that generally intellectual guys are honest.
Rethink.

Capable?
No need on that one.

Ten Little Things

You learn
You play
You unplay
Unlearn
Start again
Stop again
And start again
Stop again

And one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll breakdown

Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten other things push you away
Ten little things…
You’ll need You to pull it your way…

And one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll breakdown

Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten other things push you away
You’ll need You to pull it your way…

Else one day you’ll all breakdown
One day, Should you really breakdown?
Should you really breakdown?

Life’s one
Have fun
Give it a go
Best shots
Persist
But be wise
Persist
Don’t you die, Survive

Else one day you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll really breakdown

Those Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten little things that drag your away
Ten little things
You’ll need You to tear it all away…

Else one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll all breakdown

My garden plants … for when I travel!

This automatic watering globe thing purchased from watermyplants.in

My garden plants ... for when I travel!
 
My garden plants ... for when I travel! 

Pretty well thus far. Plants are watered appropriately and healthy when I come back. Have had 2 trips greater than a week. Max water test lasted for @ 12 days. Good product. No complaints!

So plant care and watering stress during vacation taken care of!

Cricket forecasts

Well, I miss my dad. Tonight has been India’s night at the cup and he’s not with me – he’s somewhere in the tundra region (thanks to my sister and her uncanny sense of timing her first kid in the middle of a world cup).

Alas they have no access to the world cup telecast. If someone climbs on the roof to place a dish antenna, they say, the roof might come down – it’s a lovely old house, you see, and no risks to be taken with the baby, the doggy and the parents around!

When my sister, brother and I were old enough to understand cricket, we came to appreciate our dad’s cricketing insights – astrological forecasts. On every of the match, he would take out his panchaang and ask us for the name of the captains who were to compete that day.

This would follow with some obscure mumblings on the dashas of the planets with fingers charting trajectories in the air. Further down would follow abstract calculations based upon planetary positions of the competing countries and their captain’s names. We would be with baited breaths to hear the winner’s name. Astrology, you see, foretold us the winner much before the match started!

He generally had a good scoring rate. Enough for us to brag to our friends about our deep foresights into the .

Watching cricket together was fun. As the match progressed, he would be there with his usual quibs over cups of tea….’see I told you so’, ‘whatever they do, they’re not going to win’, etc. Mom would bring ‘garam garam pakodas’ and we would have a blast. Mom is an ardent cricket fan and she would always take a stand against astrology. Hence the ‘forecasted losing’ side would be her favorite, unless of course it’s an India match.

So the sides would be split and we would have a match going on right in the middle of our living room with occasional screams and whistles. Priti would keep on changing sides depending upon who’s winning and which players are better looking. I would be rooting for the weaker team. And Box – if the Indian bowlers didn’t bowl well, he’d be sure to pick up and bowl a couple of things in our living room – bouncers that we were expected to duck!

Seems cool as I look back; nostalgic. One lively, happy family!

So well… Tonight was the night. As I sat in my living room savoring the victory ‘alone’, I missed my parents. It also dawned upon me that years of moving from one place to another as per the whims of my career has really left a void in that ‘friendship space’. All my friends whom I could have invited are scattered all over. And then they are only a few. I am basically ‘friendless’ & where I am, there are none.

My dad also happens to be my best friend. I miss him.