Life is lived in a Moment.

Life is lived in a moment. A moment of happiness, a moment of joy, a moment of success: these moments are more important in a person’s life than his or her entire lifetime. And in our life we all have our moments. Imagine your first job, your first salary, your first crush, your first love, and the first kiss: what not you will give to get these moments back. We don’t have the power to make time freeze but in our memories these sweet moments remain forever. Dr Faustus got twenty four years of unlimited life by giving his soul to the devil. If this was possible then I am sure most of us would trade our life to get back those moments, to get some new moments.
Imagine the joy of your first kiss. That moment still remains with you. You may have kissed a lot by now but the pleasant memory of that first kiss; those trembling moist lips touching your partner’s lips remains with you forever. And I am sure you can do anything to get those trembling moments back.

Few weeks back I was drinking with a couple of my friends when I raised this “life is lived in a moment” topic. And soon this topic gathered momentum among us and discussions started getting serious. Among the five of us only one was not participating. We all started pressurizing him to share his best moment of his life. After lot of beer gulping he shared. When he was doing his engineering in Bangalore he was close with a girl in his college. Soon this closeness increased by leaps and bound. And they started having an affair. The girl took the relation seriously but he was never serious. It was extreme flirting going on. One day they went to a disc and he got drunk. While returning back he stopped the car in an empty stretch and kissed the girl. And they had sex.

Next day morning when he realized what he had done he got nervous. He met the girl. The girl was already behaving as if he was her husband. Sensing danger he told the girl bluntly that he is not serious about the relationship. And he walked away. They never talked again. Both completed their studies and went away. Soon the boy realized that he has fallen in love with the girl. And it was true love. Her image accompanied him to all places, even those places which are most hostile to romance. He tried his best to woo her back but she never responded. He lost her forever. He now desperately wants those moments back. Those moments with her. He was serious. His painful moist eyes reflected his heart.

His story looks like it has been ripped straight from some cheap Indian novel. But then in life we have some great moments, some not so great moments. What looks cheap to someone is valuable to someone else. For him his moments are precious. He can trade anything to get those moments back. And I respect his feelings.

So is with our life. Every one of us has their own moments, which are hidden deep in the chambers of our heart. Secretly we wish them to come to life once again. Isn’t it?

Cute little success!

Fifteen years back I tried to publish a short story. We didn’t have computers that time. Neither had I had the money to type it. So writing it by hand was the only option. Once it was written, I copied the story in good quality paper and devoted the best possible handwriting. I made sure there was no spelling mistake and it took me hours to copy it. I copied letter by letter. The paper was my altar. My devotion was unquestionable. Once it was over, I put my story in an envelope. I also included a return envelope. With the envelope in hand, I proceeded to the post office. I was a boy possessed by my dream: a dream to see my story published in ‘The Statesman’. I reached the post office and got the required stamps. My dad was kind enough to give me Rs 10. Having stamped the envelopes I dropped it in the letter box. I felt like a father bidding farewell to his son, who was going to a faraway place for a job.

A week passed. Sunday Literary supplement had no story of mine. Then one more week passed and the weekly supplement had nothing. A month passed. Was it some kind of a conspiracy going on? I was too young to understand the pains a budding writer experience to get them published. One fine day an envelope arrived. I instantly recognized my handwriting. They have rejected my story and sent it back. At the age of 11 I experienced my first rejection. “Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger” (Joyce), I experienced the same feeling as the boy in “The Araby”. I stopped writing after that. But I never gave up reading. And the dream of getting published remained. Someday, sometime, my time will come.

Today one of my writing has got published in a website. Although this website is very new and don’t have many visitors, still sending the work to its Editor and thereby getting published is a cute little success for me. Baby steps. But a step is a step, however small. Someday I will publish my writing in ‘The Statesman’. Till that time comes, I have to keep taking these baby steps. Every step matters. There is no more time left to procrastinate. The shot has been fired.

Life without Onions!

My Tauji passed away recently. He was a retired school master and a man of considerable influence in his village. Although he suffered from Asthma throughout his life, his energy level never went down. I was not with him during his last days but I am sure he must have faced death bravely.

Tauji introduced me to the pleasure of drinking tea from a very early age. He even got me a small pair of a cup and plate. Whenever I used to go to my ancestral village, I used to wake up early only to have morning tea with him. He always prepared his own tea. And whenever I was with him, he prepared my tea too. While having his morning cup, he used to read news paper in his arm chair and I used to devour the supplements and sip my tea. Drinking tea gave me an adult aura. It looked quite a macho thing. Today I am a tea connoisseur. I have tasted extensive variety of tea and according to my friends I make a wonderful cup of tea. Thanks to Tauji for all of this.

Now as per out rituals whenever a family member passes away we are not supposed to eat non-veg. Neither we can have onions, garlic etc. I also cannot shave, trim my hair and cut my nails. This ritual continues for 10 days. Five more days to go.

The non-veg restriction is not a big thing for me. Although I love non-veg but then abstaining from it for one or two weeks is no big deal. But my problem is with Onions. I am dead without onions. But rules are rules. So my wife has instructed our cook not to use onions and garlic in vegetables. And the vegetables taste funny without onion. Earlier my food used to have a Jailalitha and Mayawati style. Extravagant. Full of pomp and valour. Full of onions and oil. Now it’s totally Mamta Banerjee style. No pomp, no valour. Vegetable without onions are tasteless for me. But I repeat rules are rules. I have to follow them. I really don’t understand why one cannot have onions when someone dies. In fact, why such restriction on food? Is our love not enough? But let me not try to be a revolutionary. Only few more days left and after that I get my onions back. Life becomes normal. May my Tauji’s soul rest in peace.

An entire train got booked in 10 minutes flat!

My parents in laws are coming on 21st September, 2009. So it’s almost three months away. They will be spending the Durga Puja with us. We plan to go to Nainital together when they come. One good habit that I have is I always plan my tours early. Last time I went to Lansdowne I booked my Hotel and Train ticket almost two months back. Such an advance booking was not necessary but then I hate taking chances. I think this is one of the reasons I never invest in the stock market. And so I am not rich. Bank FDs don’t make you rich.

So after doing all my research on Nainital, I found the best way to go there from Delhi is to take the Ranikhet Express. It leaves Old Delhi at around 10 pm and reaches Kathgodam at 6am: just an overnight journey. From Kathgodam, Nainital is around 30 kms away. I logged in to IRCTC website to book the tickets. I wanted to book for 1st October. The date was 90 days away so booking not available. Rail tickets can be booked maximum three months (90 days) in advance. Just for curiosity I checked the 30th September status. Good Lord! All tickets in waiting list. I checked for other dates in September. Most of the dates showed RAC or waiting list in 3rd AC. Few seats were available in 2nd AC but then those were in the middle of the week. This seems to be an extremely in demand train. So I decided that tomorrow I will wake up early and book the tickets when internet booking starts from 5.30am. I can’t take any chances.

I woke up at 5am and logged in. Soon the booking facility was available and I checked for ticket availability in Ranikhet Express. I got message in the pop up box. As today is the first booking day (the date is exactly 90 days away), booking facility will be available from 8am. No problem. I logged out. Soon I logged in at 8am and checked for the availability in 3rd AC. Only 13 tickets were left. No chance of getting a lower berth. What to do? It’s difficult for my mom to climb an upper berth. Anyway, I decided to get the tickets first. Berth doesn’t matter. We will see if a lower berth can be arranged once we board the train. It was 8.07 am. When I tried to book my tickets the availability status got changed to RAC3/RAC4. So within seven minutes, the entire 3rd AC seats got booked. It’s almost like six seven coaches. I checked for 2nd Ac. It was in waiting list mode.

When an entire train gets booked in 10 minutes flat, suspicion is bound to rise. Something like that movie "Gone in 60 seconds". I am sure the guys at the railways in coordination with the touts have something to do with this. Normally it’s almost impossible to book a train in ten minutes even if everybody logs in exactly at 8am for online booking. Theoretically it is possible but practically impossible.

So I am looking for our Rail Mantri’s address. I need to bring this to her notice. She has told that her agenda over the next five years will be “Ma, mati and manush” (Mother, soil and people). And I represent the people.

Producing a child is easy. Parenting is not.

Producing a child is easy. Parenting is not. Today I got an example of this.

The park opposite my flat has finally found some green hope. This park, been the biggest one, is the favorite of all the kids in our society. So children of all ages play here. Now everything comes at a price. Due to extreme gaming, the greenery of the park is non-existent. Grasses are no longer present. How will it be present when hundreds of footsteps are continuously grinding them? Besides tearing the leaves and throwing it here and there is a big hit with small children who do not get chance to play cricket due to their tininess. So the trees are mercilessly raped by these small devils. Bottom-line, these children do not have those values which will make them care for the trees, the plants, the flowers, Mother Nature.

As a child I was very merciless with trees. I loved hitting them. But my parents and specially my grandpa used to constantly tell me that these trees have lives. They are just like a human beings but like us they cannot talk or move. Soon I felt very sympathetic with the trees and never gave them any pain. Even my friends became sympathetic. We were a devilish group but we all made sure we are not damaging the green. And our parents and near and dear ones made this possible.

Now these days parents are a busy lot. And most are nuclear families so no Dadaji and Naniji. These parents do not teach their kids the value of nature. As a result the kids are least bothered when they destroy the greenery. Nobody is there to tell them that trees have lives. They feel pain when you tear their leaves.

The gardeners today have watered the park and planted grasses there. They did a good job throughout the afternoon. Lot of new plants was planted. Now when the army of children came in the evening they found the park muddy and full of grasses and plants. They did not like it was not fit for playing. Most of them went away and started playing in the garages and other places. Two little boys stayed back. Their mother was also present gossiping with other ladies at a distance. Evening chat. These ladies always have time for this important thing.

The two little boys who stayed back soon got a stick and started digging up the grasses. They dug ferociously as if their mother’s life depended on it. I was standing at the balcony and felt like going down and thrashing them. But then I will be at fault. Another guy was also standing in his balcony looking at them. He shouted “Bachho iye kya kar rahe ho”. I joined “Ghas ko ukhad mat”. (My Hindi is not good). The mom looked at us angrily. She didn’t bother to call the kids back.

Soon a guard came and told the boys not to tear away those grasses, which was planted barely few hours back. The mom came and took those kids away. She looked angrily at the guard and then gave a destructive look to both of us still standing at our balconies. As if it was all out fault. No sooner did the guard leave the boys were back in business. As usual, the mother was not bothered. After all she was not getting raped.

So this lady has produced two kids. And considering their little age difference, she has done a great job. It was almost back to back delivery. But one thing that she is not able to do properly is teach these kids the value of green. Love for nature has to be inculcated from an early age. We are losing nature at an alarming rate. And I am sure when these two kids grow up they will only increase the destruction of nature. Never will they understand that trees give peace to the souls of men. Anton Chekhov, the Russian writer was very true when he wrote “Man has been endowed with reason, with the power to create, so that he can add to what he's been given. But up to now he hasn't been a creator, only a destroyer. Forests keep disappearing, rivers dry up, wild life's become extinct, the climate's ruined and the land grows poorer and uglier every day.”

My request to all would be moms and dads. Please do not make your kids the “Destroyer”. Nature wants them as “Creators”.

Haan Kar denge! Haan Ho Jayega!

Delhi Rocks! Despite the increasing urban problems like power cuts, water issues, the city as a whole is full of life. Barring Mumbai, I believe there are very few vibrant cities in India like Delhi. But I have one complaint against the Delhi people. They showoff too much. They have an extremely high boastful nature. When a cop catches a car jumping red light, the car fellow takes a threatening approach and keeps calling a hell lot of people to scare the cop. As if he is the son of Manmohan Singh. Similarly, ask any Delhite that can they do a so and so thing. You will never hear a ‘No’. They will always talk about their rich connections. From Gas connections to Children admission: solutions are always available with them. At least verbal solutions. Recently I became a victim of this humbug solution. Delhi’s ‘Juggad’ mentality.

My parents-in-law are coming to our place this September during Durga Puja. While trying to book their tickets in Howrah Rajhdhani I found that no lower berth is available despite some 60 tickets available for online booking. As my mom-in-law is in no position to climb to the middle or upper berth, one lower berth is essential. I informed this to my wife. She in turn told this to her friend. This friend’s mom is in some senior position in railways. This friend called up her mom and told about the situation. Her mom told that she can easily arrange two lower berths so there is nothing to worry. Gleefully, my wife called me and gave me this good news. I told my wife to go ahead despite been skeptical. I logged in again just for curiosity and found no more tickets are available. I told this to my wife. She panicked and called up her friend’s mom. But the lady told that she has considerable influence and the tickets will be arranged.

Now in the evening, my wife’s friend called and told that her mom has booked two tickets but in RAC. I was shocked. I conveyed my displeasure to my wife. She in turn called up her friend’s mom seeking assurance. And she assured my wife that tickets will get confirmed. Besides, there is high possibility of getting a lower berth. And incase lower berth is not available, a lower berth can always be managed in the train by greasing the palms of the Ticket Checker.

So I think by now you have understood the problem with Delhi’s people. I am not saying all are like this but then most are. If you can’t do a thing or if you don’t have some real connection, you should not try to mislead people just to earn some brownie points. This lady screwed up the entire thing. At least in the first case I was still getting confirmed tickets. But then a little greed from my side screwed it up. I have got my lesson. And the other good part is I have understood the meaning of “A bird in hand is worth two in the bush”. Never understood this idiom fully in real life. I have taken a hard lesson now. And one more thing - its no use asking for help from a person who is not in a capacity to help. So beware!