Kiss the Earth

- By Thich Nhat Hanh

Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe
when we feel safe in ourselves.

A Quote

"So many Gods, so many creeds, So many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind, is all the sad world needs."

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Granny

Once she heard that her second grandchild was going to be born, Zarine immediately left her town in a car with her husband, Pesi and some other relatives in tow. A couple of hours later at Jehangir Hospital, Pune, an ugly bawling baby was put into her arms. She gazed at it with a warm smile but the baby couldn’t care less and continued howling. The newborn didn’t realize that she had been thrust into the most loving arms in the whole world. She didn’t know that she’d be in these wonderful arms only for 14 years. She didn’t realize her God-given gift. The baby was stupid. The baby was me.

During my growing years, Granny was a solid presence in our lives. It didn’t matter that she lived in Lonavala and we in Pune. She and my grandfather made frequent visits, never forgetting to bring a bagful of vintage Granny-Made jams. She was there for almost all my birthdays, clapping happily in the background as I blew out the candles. She was there for my sister’s and my Navjote, watching with tears in her eyes as we were formally accepted into the Zoroastrian culture. And of course, we spent many summers and winters in her home which she kept impeccably clean. An over sleeper by nature, I’d surprisingly always find myself awake at 6 AM at her house. Then I’d run downstairs to the kitchen only to find her asking me, “Milk or hot chocolate?” The answer was always a gluttonous, “HOT CHOCOLAAAATEEE!!!!”
Then I’d sit and watch her make it. Many conversations brewed up here. She often reminded me of the times I had with her, like when I told her to look after my dog’s offspring properly.
“You told me, ‘Granny, this is my dog. Look after him well.’ Have I looked after him well?” She would ask me, with a cheesy smile (a lot of times).
“Yes!” I would reply (a lot of times).
She didn’t need to ask me that. Chico was already six years old and a dog’s version of Arnold Schwarzenegger!

I remember a time we all had gone to her place. We were sitting on the terrace. Granny was her usual happy and glowing self. Baba raised a toast to my sister and me. He said, “I raise a toast to two young ladies who have been brought up so well.”
Then my wisecracking sister replied, “And I raise a toast to four adults who we have brought up so well!”
What fun we had up there, drinking and laughing.
We had to leave early the next day, because our dogs were alone at home. But now I wish we had stayed longer.
We hugged and kissed each other goodbye before getting into the car. As the car moved away from the house, a weird instinct made me spin around to and look hard at granny. I stared and stared at her shrinking figure till I couldn’t see her anymore. I wondered what made me look intently at my grandmother like that. What I didn’t know was that it was the last time I would see her alive.

Two days later, my dad came and woke my sister and me out of our slumber. He looked upset but I didn’t take that seriously. I just wanted to sleep more. The sister followed papa out of the room as I groggily climbed out of bed. Soon she was back, looking stunned and sad.

“Granny died.”

It struck me like a blow. I stood there too shocked to speak and then began to cry. It couldn’t be Granny… It must be someone else’s granny. It was just unbelievable… She couldn’t and shouldn’t die. Not now. Never.
“Granny? Our granny?” I asked, just to be sure.
My sister nodded.

Later I learned that in the previous night, Granny began to feel uncomfortable. My grandfather wanted to call the doctor but she stopped him from doing so. She never complained much. But later, when the heart attack became intense, she told my grandfather to do what he wanted, so he took her to the doctor.
When she was being taken to the ambulance, she told Suroo, the maid, who was helping her get in, “I’m not coming back.”
She was right. The doctors failed to save her and on May 28^th 2002, at 1:30 AM the brightest gem on earth faded away.

The ambulance that was carrying my grandmother halted outside my house. I felt too scared to enter it. One part of me knew that Granny was dead, but another denied it. She isn’t dead, it said, she couldn’t be dead. I wanted to believe that voice. I hoped that the person inside would be someone else. If I entered, the truth would be proved and my hopes, shattered.
I lingered outside for a while till I finally decided to go inside. A body was wrapped in a white cloth. My aunt, who was in the ambulance, pulled the cloth a bit so that the head could be seen. Desperately, I scanned each and every feature of the face. It was pale. Her straight white hair was in is normal puff. Her lips were slightly parted so that a bit of her rabbit teeth were revealed.
It was Granny.

I saw her being cremated from afar. A man came out of the cremation room and handed a container wrapped in a bright napkin. It contained granny’s ashes. I stared at it. It felt so weird to carry her around in a pot. And to know that she was gone for good.

Sometimes I browse around the cupboard and take out a bagful of pictures. I find her in so many of them. I see her shy nine-year-old smile as she dons a bizarre costume, her expression as she holds her first born, my father, and her happiness as she licks vanilla ice-cream. Then I remember all that’s gone; her jams, her sev, her smell, her physical presence.
However, her love has remained intact... For it is embedded in our hearts.

Orkut Goes Down

Oh god! I was just so relieved I escaped Facebook because it was so full of bullshitting activities and now it turns out that Orkut has got the Facebook fixation! Frankly speaking, I don't give a damn about who throws pies or sheep at whom and or who has given virtual slaps to whom.
Its a totally pointless activity and especially wastes away invaluable time that could be directed towards civil contribution.

I think the cynic just got more cynical.

American Presidents

Ever wonder why Americans keep reelecting presidents, no matter how stupid they may be? Its vary zimpal: So that they have less names to memorize. So smart, no?

Right Thinking?

Today I was reading an article on how robots might get rights in the year 2052 or something like that. Rotten shit.
Basically the argument is: You wont kick a real dog so why should you kick a robot one?

Isn't that a bit nutty? Shouldn't we first give rights to the trees so that they may not be cut? To the flowers so that they may not be plucked? To the ozone layer so that it may not be harmed?
Shouldn't we deal with whats the issue in the here and the now? Think about it rationally... If we don't protect trees, animals, water and everything else now, who the hell is gonna be alive and kicking to make robots years in the future, forget granting them rights ?

As I said before, we all run after the wrong things. Hats off to us.

*And don't kick the hat!*

On growing up

When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up fast. I put my mother's red lipstick, wore her black silletos, draped a faux fur shawl on myself and trotted around clumsily like a"lady". Every birthday was cherished. I was a step closer to womanhood. Every year, on that special day, I'd run to the mirror first thing in the morinig to see how much 'older' I looked. I did my best to imitate Veronica Lodge then because she was 'The Lady'. I even told my neighbour that "as a matter-of-fact" we would get married when we grew up. He almost choked while sucking his thumb.

And now I want to be a child again.
Sometimes I open my eyes in the morning and go, "Eeeks, I think I grew up too fast." Sometimes I walk past children on swings and wish I did that more often. Sometimes I step into a puddle and wish I could roll about in it without people thinking I need medical treatment. Sometimes I look at my face in the mirror and don't recoginise myself. I see little kids and feel weird that I'm not their height anymore. I feel dizzy when they call me 'aunty'. Surely, there IS more time left? Surely, I'm not that old yet? Surely, I can still be called one of the tiny tots?

Leave it to the aunts to dash such hopes.
"Such a pretty woman," they coo, "Can you knit?"
"No," I say, puzzled at the sudden change of topic.
"What? Not even one teeny-weeny bit? You MUST learn! Your babies will be born anytime now!"

However, hope still lies under all this chaos of growing up. No matter how much I may have changed physically, mentally I'm still a 2 year old. Thank god for that.

The swimmers

I had this dream where my mother and I are sitting near a river. There are two men in their late 20s laughing and swimming there. As I am watching them, my mother tells me, "This is a huge, huge river... So vast that it looks like the sea and you can't see the end of it. Many people go on a quest to find the end of the river and many think that they have found it..."
In the meantime, one of the swimmers sees what looks like the end of the river and exclaims to his buddy, "Oh look! There is the end!" Both swim eagerly towards the "end" of the river.
"But when they reach it, " continues my mother's voice, "They see that there are many, many more miles to complete."
At this point, the swimmers reach the "end" only to realise that the river still stretches miles ahead of them. Determined, they continue swimming.
"After a while, you think you have finally come to the end of the river..."
The two men finally come close to a point where they can't see any stretch of the river and start paddling faster.
"But beware! It's not really the river's end... Rather, it is where the river falls..."
The men are just about to reach the final spot when they realise that they are actually swimming toward a waterfall. They are shocked and start panicking.
"And when this happens, it's time to turn back and swim in the opposite direction."
After a lot of effort, the swimmers turn around and swim away, successfully saving themselves from falling down the stream.
My mother looks at me and smiles.

A random thought

today, for absolutely no reason, i made a mental note to find mr Kass. then make mr. kass fall for me (the easiest part). and then bear a child who we will call jack...

We're for You, Julia Wilson

Today morning i read about a 14 year old kid, Julia Wilson, in Sacramento, who posted a picture of Bush, scrawled "Kill Bush" with a dagger stabbing his outstretched hand as she was upset with the war in Iraq. She later removed the picture after learning that it was a "federal offence" but it was too late. Some federal authorities had located her page and soon caught her in her biology class. They "questioned" her for 15 minutes. As Wilson reported later, they "yelled at me lot. They were unnecessarily mean." They also threatened her and said that she could be sent to a juvenile hall.
A tearful Wilson had to prove that the post was not meant to be serious. "I wasn't dangerous. I mean, look at what's (stencilled) on my bacpack- its a heart! I'm a very peace loving person. I'm not going to kill the President."

When I read this, all I thought was, "What the fuck?"
Bush gets to kill millions of innocents in Iraq (and anywhere else if he wishes to) but one harmless 14 year old was threatened by the federal authorities for posting a "Kill Bush" picture. And this, THIS, can land her up in a juvenile hall whereaeas Bush isn't spotted in any court or prison, no matter how juvenile he actually is. How come no one cries when the men, women and children of Iraq are killed but when a girl (rightly so) expresses her disapproval at Bush's ways, she gets threatened by his men? Is this rational?
Yes she posted a "graphically violent" picture. But is she really violent? No. Bush is. Looks like we are running down the wrong end of the street.

Weird are the ways of our world.

Moi Returns !

YAYYYYYYYYYY !!!!

I'm back after a long hitatus ! You see, as usually happens with weird old me, I'd forgotten not only my password but also my log-in name (I'm just great.). So days and months flew by while I frantically typed in possible log-in names plus possible passwords. Then I got it right (Wow. I generally never do that sort of thing.)
So now blogs will pop up again! Sit back and get tickled!

I'm A Football

Sometimes I feel like a football being kicked around by servants of fate. Sometimes one good kick leaves me sailing to the goalpost. It’s celebration time then ! After that, I’m out on the field again, trying to make it to another goalpost. Sometimes I reach fast. Sometimes I almost reach but then I’m sent hurling back in the opposite direction where I have to start afresh. Sometimes I am mercilessly kicked around to and fro, constantly moving but reaching nowhere. In the midst of all this confusion, there’s the Crowd… watching my every move. Some cheer me on and others just go boo-boo (Pfffht to them). Spinning and sprinting around the ground gets real confusing at times…. I get so dizzy I don’t know where I’m going. But the worst part is when a great goal is missed because the goalkeeper had good reflexes (somebody paralyze him!). But the good part is that there are many more goals out there waiting to be scored.

As they say, life's a game... So enjoy it!

Holy Feet

My finger reached for my monitor.

Click!

It then proceeded to switch on the broadband modem.

Click!

Its work ended there and the feet took charge. The big toe of the left foot switched on the CPU and the computer came back to life.

The mother saw this.

“Don’t do that again,” she was referring to the shameful deed of using my foot to touch the CPU.

“Why!?” I countered, “It’s nothing... It's a stupid machine!”

“When you marry a Hindu and get kicked out of his house, don’t complain.”

I went to the balcony making a mental note to marry a Christian.

Why do people consider feet so unholy that it cannot touch most objects? If by chance your feet happen to come in contact with another person, you have to perform some kind of ‘Oops-I’m-Sorry’ ritual by using the hand to touch your head, chest and the area just below your lips. I do this, but only to please the people around me. Whenever I do so, I mentally apologize to my feet for making them feel inferior.

People here don’t give their feet the respect and love they deserve. Maybe its because they are actually ‘lower’ than the rest of the body parts. I don’t know. But I really think we should stop this discrimination of feet and just treat them like our hands or heads or whatever.

Especially when we can go places with those wonderful feet of ours!

The Return of the Nails

The result sheet claims I got distinction.

The nail biting has stopped.

Post Exam Fever

Two more days to go and the nail biting will end. The results will be declared then. And the agonizing thoughts of, ‘Did I pass?!? Did I flunk?!!?’ will finally be erased from the mind. The poor body has indeed suffered no end to this post exam trauma. The mind feels tight. The neck is stiff. The hair is standing on end in preparation for the oncoming shock. But the nails have suffered the worst. Indeed, they have been chewed and chewed by unkind teeth as if they were the most delicious things ever had.

The most worrying moments occur when you are enjoying a cup of cold coffee with your friends and the topic of “How My Exam Went” inevitably comes up. Then everybody starts discussing each and every paper in a mad frenzy.
I join the hullabaloo too.
English screwed me!!
Politics gave me goosebumps!
Psychology made me psycho!
Philosophy attacked me!
French was undecipherable!
Logic cracked my skull! (Really. Why did an illogical me think I could wallop Logic? I guess I’m just So Illogical.)
In the end, everybody is wolfing down their nails instead of their coffee.
After a while somebody goes, “Enough!”
It is met by unanimous nods.
Then someone goes, “But eco was real baaaaaad….”
“Ditto…”
And the vicious circle continues.

Oh! The horrible, horrible torture of waiting! Just two more days and 11 hours (Add another 77. The queues are long.) and I shall receive the result paper! Thence the torture will stop. Or continue. Only time will tell.

The Saddest Blog I've Ever Written

Rtyurtdfgfgdhgfsdyftuyrtyrt….. I’m bored. Sfgergwrt4rtefsdfasgdadwe. And I have nothing better to do. Hfghgfe. I have to write something… hgfsefuerteefgjdg. There.

Street Drama

Want to commit suicide? Don't bother to do it yourself. Too much trouble. Just walk on the roads of Pune and viola, you're flattened in 60 seconds flat!
Otherwise if you're just an innocent pedestrian then god bless you. Every time I walk on the roads, I take my life in my hands and pray fervently that it does not end up under the wheels of those quickie cars. Yes, there are more pavements now but apparently drivers cannot tell the difference between a sidewalk and a road.

There are also some evil bikers out on these roads. They love to come out of their way to the spot where you are walking so that you’re forced to move out of your way for them. Nothing pleases them more than your special 'hey-you-nearly-killed-me-!!!' face.

If you’re a pedestrian, you’re definitely severely abused during the monsoons. No vehicle accepts your existence and simply whizzes by, splashing mucky puddle “water” all over you. Sometimes you have to walk through the puddles if the whole road is flooded. And sometimes the puddles are filled with cow-shit.
Crossing the road is a big problem, especially at 6PM. Its packed, crammed and yet the vehicles are moving fast. That’s when you have two options:
1. Either you wait for the traffic to lessen a bit. This could leave you waiting until 11PM.
2. You just plunge into the road and zigzag your way out of the chaos. Of course this is pretty risky, but then, desperation conquers all. Sometimes this can cause you nearly bang into a car. If (by grace) the car stops for you, another bangs into it. And if you’re caught, you gotta pay for the damage. So if and when this happens my dear, run out of sight. Jump into a garbage truck if you have to but RUN OUT OF SIGHT.

Oh the woes of a pedestrian… Somebody, give me the directions to Fairyland. I’ll walk there if I have to but at least I’ll live happily ever after.

The Doomed Earth

Meet the new "environmentally conscious" family. They have a "Go Green" bumper sticker on their swanky, ever-polluting, AC attached Honda car. They have cut many trees to build a huge house with "environmentally friendly" material. They have their bathroom pipes connected to the plants outside so that whenever they wash themselves with chemically infused shampoos and soaps, that "water" goes out and feeds the pretty flowers instead of drowning in the drain.
And this is the "environmentally-conscious" family. Talk about being thoughtful.
Others don't give a damn. They use electricity, vehicles, remove vegetation to make way for their selfish selves, and contribute, in large numbers, to global warming. And give nothing back. Nothing.
I'm not any better. Even as I'm typing here complaining about how useless we are in trying to "save" the environment, I’m using electricity and consequently polluting the earth more.

Sorry for this but if you really want to save the world, please stand up and shoot yourself.

Bullseye!

Sometimes I feel helpless. I look around. And everywhere I look, I see people with aims in life. One aims to be a journalist. And is becoming one. One aims to be an engineer. And is becoming one. One aims to be a scuba diver. And is becoming one.

What do you want to become? A doctor?

Eeee! And cut up strangers and rummage through all their icky insides?

Okay, a psychologist?

Hmm…. I do like gossip…

Forget it. A lawyer?

But I hate those black suits.

Can we drop this neti-neti thing and get to the point?

No… I’d rather take things slowly.

We’ve taken it slowly enough. My next client has been waiting for 2 days.

Okay.

Just sit back, close your eyes and visualize yourself 10 years in the future. What do you see?

Me getting counseled by a better job counselor.

(Sighs) What I mean to say is don’t you even have some ambition? Some dream? Don’t you have an aim in life?

Yeah! To have an aim in life.