Category Archives: life

Ten Little Things

You learn
You play
You unplay
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
But be wise
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

Just hang on

When there’s nothin
Just hang on
When there’s somethin
Move along
Try to push it
With a happy song
YeahAll the long miles
Run along
All the while
Stay along
Try to push it
With a happy song

Cos one day when the skies open up
The skies will see
Who’s been underneath
All the while, all along
Singing the same ol’ happy song
When there’s nothin
Just hang on

Wisp of Air

As I look out of the window
And see my home pass by
I realize that years have passed
Time has flown
There must be my marks in that house somewhere
There must be a wisp of my breath lingering
There must be some proof that I had once lived there
And that house was but my belonging
The street outside must have my footmarks
Certainly the marks of the cycle I rode
My school must still have my mischief in its corridors
And the where I played
Oh, the trees must recognize me surely

But I realize
There are new dwellers now
The home, the street, the school, the garden
Which I once called mine, are someone else’s now
For my marks were only temporal
I had no claim
The stay was short
Only the desire strong
In the scheme of things
I have moved on
I will move on
Guess, I’ll hardly be anywhere
But for a minutiae, a blip
And a lingering wisp of air…

The Mumbai Morning Muse

This morning is a prized one for Mumbai – the rare mist, the rare cold on a winter Saturday.  I sit with my regular cup of tea and an urge overwhelms me. I want to write something down asap. I fumble through my kid’s rack (for I have none) for a pen and a paper and end up with a blunt pencil and a paper. Sitting in the I start writing… the muse has finally awakened after a long long time. And the mist isn’t going to last for long…

It’s . And I’ve been constantly running after unfinished tasks – finding a better job, finding a house, gathering funds, defining & living up to my aspirations (which also includes writing), manage 2 kids and my wife who’s most helpful by the way – to the extent that she manages me! I gather all these thoughts as I go about writing.

The mist also has effects on the other, above mentioned members of my family. While at writing, my subconscious registers my wife dancing and the first little one, four year old, joining in… singing songs and dancing around the not so large 2 bedroom house in one of the suburbs of Mumbai. Our maid also joins the gang. The second little one, 6 month old, unfortunately cannot join the train-gang but his rather high decibel screams seem to register the general excitement in the air.

I am out in the tiny balcony focussed on my paper and pencil and the frolics in the house are a bit vague to me till I suddenly hear my name… “Pappa is taking us out for a stroll in the garden”.  I  anxiously look  in the direction of the living room… 3 pairs of eyes are looking at me, the 4th pair also  making an effort from his cot. There are expectations in the air…  expectations from a good husband, a good father, a good master and a good driver!

The muse goes back to sleep. The mist clears a bit. They seem to appreciate my other duties. I finish my second cup of tea and change for the occasion.

I have been prodded often by my better half  towards moving to a mountainous region, away from the city. “We’ll open up a hotel, a cottage and live amongst the mountains”. Somehow I have never taken it seriously;  I think am afraid that will be too simple, too far from everything.

Now while driving I wonder if a hill station will be good for me. Will it constantly awaken my muse? Will I be able to write? Will I be able to love life more?

At the speed of life!

It’s strange. What used to happen in months and days now happen in seconds. The speed of communication has undergone a revolution, there are new tools to increase , yet we continue to grasp for time. What explains this?

There’s not a pause, there’s always a ‘next’ or a ‘rather’. Frustrations abound. Does the base lie in a constant sense of dissatisfaction that the mankind lives in? There is no end to ‘more’. Now that there is speed and instant recognition, has the speed with which the wants are wished for also increased?

I would then believe that the more speedier things become, the more efficient things become, stress would further increase. There would be need for instant answers, instant results and instant gratification in a of intense and instant possibilities.

Man would continue to pursue his desires, with even more speed. And it seems that he will never catch up. He will run till the very end, and if science has it’s way, even beyond!

Child again!

“You have not even tucked your shirt right,” I adjusted my dad’s shirt right in the middle of the track where we were walking walking. As we continued our early walk at Sardar baug, I kept on.

“You’ve also become absolutely lethargic, lazy. Did you read the books I had given to you last time?” I was not over yet. I had tons to say as we walked on the cobbled stones laid across the beautiful lush green garden.

“Have you, by any chance, also checked your test reports? The increase in your weight? 5 kgs in one year is something you should be concerned about. And …”

Suddenly my dad stopped in the middle of the tracks. He put up a hand silencing me and looked up at the tree above us…

“Koo oo, Koo oo,” he shrilled.
“‘Koo oo, Koo oo,” a cuckoo answered back.

The conversation lasted for over a minute while I stood mesmerized by the my dad had chosen to emphasize. He was beyond the trivialities we bother in our day to day lives. He was as excited as a little child having a tete-a-tete with a cuckoo hidden somewhere in the branches.

It is my dad’s turn to be a child again. And it’s my turn to be his father…

Jazz & the Corporate Dance

All early mornings of late are consumed by the jazz playing in the background. A few hours of jazz and I become indifferent to the things at work.

Being an employee of whichever organization, it is mandated that you dance to the whims of the decision makers. There is a chain of decision makers however – for e.g. I am a decision maker in my right, there are people below me who would be decision makers, and bosses above me who would be so with rungs of  bosses above them, all of whom are decision makers. The ceo is a decision maker for a division, but then he/she is answerable to the chairman, chairman is answerable to the MD, the MD to the owner, the owner to the board, and the board to the investors and shareholders. The large investors are answerable to their high net worth clients, and the clients and the shareholders are answerable to themselves when they look at their faces in the mirrors, or contemplate upon their decisions.

So everyone dances to each others’ whims – a string of dancers right from the lowest rung of employees to the very shareholders at the end, and everyone else in between. A perpetual corporate dance banquet thus ensues.

You are in an even deeper mess however if you don’t know who your boss is – when you report to four different people and none in particular, when your work is as tangible and yet as abstract as it could be, when you are answerable to many and really answerable to none. Different whims here, levels of rope balancing here, different tunes and hence different types of dances – you jazz, you waltz, you samba and the likes….

They say it is good to have hope and optimism in – that tendency of things is to eventually sort themselves out.

Meanwhile there’s jazz.

I can dance 😉


Everyone wants to try
Everyone wants to fly
Everyone wants to be there
No one knows where

But unless one finds here
One will never really be near

An endless mirage will just goad on
And bear on
Seeking everywhere
That’s right with you, right here

Definiton : Progress

As I stroll around one of my fav walking places – sardarbaug, vadodara,, I ponder on the def of ‘progress’. What is it?

The web defines progress as ‘movement in a positive way towards a goal’.

* Having completed my education and two post grad degrees,
* A job with its concomitant ups and down and politics, and future pay and position prospects
* Having a cool family – wife, a kid and one more expected, while heeding to the need of my core family,
* Having grown up as a responsible member of the society,

…is it all progress?

Or is my blank, thoughtless, lazy strolling at sardarbaug without a bound of time, enjoying my fav music, distant from all but myself, contemplating these thoughts and others, and even choosing to contemplate none, penning a few … progress?

I guess definition of progress needs a goal; we have temporary andor dynamic in different domains, and we can measure our ‘progress’ wrt these goals.

But what is our progress? Have we really progressed? Have I? I don’t know. But tonight sure feels great! Bliss! And I am still lazying, strolling, kicking the mud as I tread!

….just heard that there has been a bomb blast at Pune… the bombs have really evolved. Is that progress?

The infinite loop of requirements

A man goes to a certain place. He needs food, transportation, shelter, clothes, electricity, entertainment avenues, other 1000 stuff to make his survival worth it.
So more people are required to specifically provide food, transport and all of the above. And these people need all the above services too.

And so a loop of requirements and providers begins – a complete circle, the diameter of which keeps on increasing since man is not a satisfied creature. He just doesn’t need a car, he prefers a better car, a bigger car… And yes, to drive the requirements loop, we have the concept of money. The more money one has, the more can his requirements be satisfied.

So more the money – more requirements fulfilled – better and bigger than others – more power – more , boost to self worth. Somewhere this also becomes an absolute for a sense of . A triviality thus takes over existence, becomes a whole!

So people want more money, more than anything else – for a sense of self worth; led by an incorrect cross-connection with happiness.

Hmmm….what if man didn’t have any requirements! Would he be happier?

….errant mumblings, rumblings on a rather nebulous plane …s’il vous plaît excusez moi