What is in “IT”? "The Irrational Space"

A thought that was haunting me for quite some time now and I really had not understood the reason  for it not getting deleted off my memory, it keeps ringing like a morning alarm, this thought has always made me insane and finally a decision of jotting this down was the easiest way to get rid of it at least for a while till I start to think about it all over again; those were the days when I used to see my dad and my other neighbors waking up at 7:00 am in the morning;  complete the chores peacefully and leave by 8:30 am to the factory and return back home by 6:00 pm; never compared or regretted for what they are paid for, a simple life yet a calm one.

Today,  I get a fat pay yet complain on how soon it all gets over; surrounded by all business magnets and famous people but still remains dissatisfied of not having establishing contacts with the most powerful ones, strive hard to have  the latest technology on finger-tips and manage to commit an err on small things; dreams only about being a star-performer; owning a sedan worth lakhs together, just cannot live without having the best food from  lavish restaurants , party hard all night, have fan-followers, deserve the best at the cost of others pain attitude, slogging like a donkey, get treated  like a dog and but manages to mask it with a lion’s face, existence only by a tag around a neck matters and not by the name our parents proudly would have christened; ought to think logically always and there is no other word in the dictionary as sophisticated as “Being practical” that is allowed . I love to speak up and I know I have been a good orator at school won many awards and accolades but all of a sudden I need some jargons to frame my sentence.

It’s all about in accent and not the language, it’s all in the fake body language and not the real respect we mean towards a person, it’s all empathy and not a bit of sympathy, branded footwear, branded clothes is all what matters and not your feet inside, Hats-off to the Pizzas and burgers to have conquered your taste-buds over the food which mum or spouse makes with lot of effort and love. Exorbitant mobile phones with a 3g connection is more significant than really trying to connect with a loved one, public display of affection is he status quotient, visiting malls on a weekend with a window shopping is equivalent to have really shopped something for self or your loved ones, dragging old parents to a place where they completely feel out of place is socializing.

Smoking and drinking are no longer considered injurious; these are stress-busters, a hobby called reading is scanty, it’s now the era of trekking, Skiing, Scuba-diving and last but not the least hiking.

Mindset that is completely irrational yet spends the entire life on attending training sessions on behavioral aspects; preaches everyone to have confidence but still has the residues of fear within him,

We celebrate Independence day every year, but have we ever stopped by and given it a thought if there is any significance remaining for the phrase “INDEPENDENT INDIA “, anymore; it is as good as we being slaves under British; we are striving not to keep ourselves happy, it’s just to meet the numbers, going to work is no longer fun, it’s just means to pay off your monthly bills,  going to college and mastering a subject is not knowledge;  it just means to a job in an MNC; gone are the days when we used to have computers to play games, this is a world as ruthless as the god of death; a whip in the hand, the track is opened to the swift runners, while the losers are shattered in one sway.

“What we are becoming is more important than what we are accomplishing” is an old saying; you are always looked up to only by the values you carry on your shoulder. Before the time flies by, leaving us behind with the unanswered questions we need to decide; if life is more important to us than anything else. As change is the philosophy, so is evolving into a better person. Being superficially modern is not necessary, think modern is what matters. It’s not the world which has changed but us who have changed it.

Nostalgia - "Story of a Mango Tree"

It was like I had a rewind button on my brain, I pressed the button and it took me about fifteen years back, the house was vacated and it remained no more of my aunt’s she has moved into a different place a big bungalow, but the house that stands on the national high-way is still the same and the influence it has on the life is just too incredible. That is the house that stood in pride with the walls narrating the stories of the most beautiful moments spent with my loved ones “CHILDHOOD”, the best thing that can happen to any human-being during his stint here; the mango tree was once with full of mangoes hanging down the leaves; an abode to ants still remains still with the swing we had made for ourselves.

Summer vacation of two months with all the cousins jammed at a single point, tantalizing the taste-buds with mom-made yummy pickles and other delicious cuisines, reading stories from Tinkle digest where the characters like Shikari Shambu, Supandi, Shakti man, Spider-man existed the way they were described in the books; Tom and Jerry, Scooby-doo were cartoons and they were real tranquilizers to lungs, cricket enthusiasts enjoyed cricket commentary by just listening to a transistor with a cup of hot coffee and a plate of hot pakoras, celebrating festivals  by inviting the neighbors and spreading the happiness, best-wishes went in the form of greeting cards with a stamp on it; waiving hands at strangers sitting inside the bus and whistling at the moving bus just to get inside the crowded bus.

I remember a long distance travel just to reunite with my relatives, using postal services to post a hand-written letter to a cousin far away with a sketch of me and her holding hands together and jumping in the air, exchanging the well-being of each family member. The way I stopped the post-man anxiously by hand every time he crossed my house to check if a reply to my letter has arrived; the memories of how our childhood days were can never be forgotten, the way the ground beneath stood still when the word “TELEGRAM” was heard with a ring of the cycle bell from a post-man just to know if everything was fine with the closest ones or not; gone are the days when phones were used only for communication of something which really meant an emergency.

Gone are the days when the old granny from the closest shop nearby called me by my name and handed over a pocket full of toffees and bid me good-bye to school with her blessings, the days when I went crying to school asking mom or dad to fetch me hot food during the lunch-break just to have a glimpse of them while at school, the pranks at school and getting back a bag of complaints from a friend’s mother; getting irritated with a classmate of yours when she spoke to the girl or boy who you admired or had a crush on, trying to be the class teacher’s all-time favorite student, days when you sought help of your friend to complete the home-work by bribing him with a toffee. The way you waited for a friend at the bus-station just to receive or bid good bye to her with tears in your eyes, a small hug from a closest friend meant the world and the spark of jealous in each one’s eyes when the topper of class was announced. The farewell day which brought tears, a book called “SLAM”- “Some lines about me” – did really matter the most to each one of us.

Mom everyday woke me up at 7:00 am, but I never remember getting up so early, but the remembrance of me making her run over the entire house for the misplaced shoes, socks and ribbons still dawdles on my mind, the way I ran with half-dressed when the school-bus arrived and sometimes running behind the bus while my friends in the bus laughed at my plight, the screams that you let out jut for a pencil which your sibling stole away during your absence at home, the way you stole the half eaten chocolate away from your sister or brother immediately after gulping up the entire bar of yours, getting annoyed when your mother compared your marks with your friend’s marks sheet, the way you dirtied your white uniform and expecting the reprimands, the way you ran with a gang of friends with a piggy-bank, jamming-up for a cause. These are the days that are still as fresh as a morning daisy waiting for the first ray of sun, the list is never-ending and the words in the English dictionary are not enough to describe the life back then.

The world then was so simple, harsh words were spoken even then but the words spoken were forgotten but now we forget people and not the words, we need a phone call just to catch up with an old pal of ours who sat beside during school-days, things seemed stupid and illogical then but those are the moments we would love to cherish and not the days now where SLAM is replaced with Likes and Comments on Social Networking Websites, re-union means formally meeting up with friends in an exorbitant resorts, walking means going to a well-equipped gym which has a treadmill and laughing means joining a laughter club, the world is beautiful and it is us who makes it to be and not the technology or logical thinking always. The mango tree that has a swing tied to it still stands still with pride, the memories it beings to me is just too enormous and I know every one of us have a mango tree story for ourselves to cherish, saying this I sign-off. Happy memories

  

“Miraculously Blessed”

I stood in front

of the photograph and shed tears like a small kid; it was such an emotional fit I missed him so badly and just wanted to hug him but I could not, I knew he was always there for me but I physically wanted to see him around which was totally impractical; the imagination of his smile, his mischief, his memories took me three and a half years back, him on the hospital bed like a veg table with just tears in his eyes, the whole picture just got opened; could not tolerate any further; looked at him feebly and just asked him one thing, “Am I Bad?” why don’t you answer it to me? Why did you leave me all alone to face the wrath of the people around for no fault of mine? I just jabbered some more questions to the photograph on the wall till my tired eyes sealed themselves off dragging me away to sleep, all I could remember was I could not hug him and that was what mattered to me during that time.

I woke up the next morning with inflamed eyes; wondering what had happened last night but I could ambiguously remember, completed my chores, and started to office, it was a pretty unusual day, it was gloomy outside, seemed like the sun had forgotten to awaken, it was a clear sky, as clear as a canvas waiting to be splashed with colors; nothing looked appealing to me, I just looked down straight and accelerated my vehicle and rode with multiple conflicts trying to take precedence over each other .

I was just looking down at the floor while I bumped into the head of my team, he looked at me and without a word, he said; I would like to meet you today at my office, please come over. I was a little apprehensive, wanted to immediately know and understand what he wanted to convey to me; I ran around people who I was at ease with and asked few questions to which the most expected disappointing sentence “How would I know?” was a reply.

I waited for about half an hour until my colleague completed the discussion; I went inside; he smiled at me and the first question he asked was, “What do you want to do?” there were lot of things he said and amidst the discussion my eyes filled with tears, the helplessness took over me as I opened up myself with the concerns I had; he stopped me; out of the world there came some words , answers to all the questions I had asked the photograph on the wall “YOU ARE A GOOD GIRL”; I found my answer. I walked out of the room with happiness; my eyes were gleaming with joy, I went out now looked at the sky above; I could see it painted with the picture that I have on the wall in my bed-room. I was miraculously blessed; the presence of the most missed soul of my life was felt again.