I continue to ride my bike slow

Its exactly been a year since I last wrote for you; and I most certainly dont want to be typecast into a son who remembers his mother only on mothers day not that I believe in it. But fortunately or unfortunately I am always reminded of this day by facebook. Coincidentally in a weeks time we would also be celebrating your and Dad's 33rd wedding anniversary; and as inspiring a couple you have been to the world, I know as a fact that credit goes to you.
I am always chided by all and sundry that I will end up looking for a wife who mirrors you, well I cannot be faulted for shooting for perfection. I remember the days when I would enter home scared shitless because I had played cricket an hour more than you allowed me to; I also remember being at my wits end when I did not achieve a perfect score in Maths. Today when I am not satisfied easily; how do I explain to people that my definition of success and perfection has been etched differently right since childhood. But then I also remember you winking at me and saying a random girl in a restaurant was looking at me (ohh how I wish that happened more often). I also remember you asking me to take a selfie and then making it your whatsapp DP. The fact that at the age when most are looking at rest you took internet lessons just to be in sync with your children speaks volumes about your perseverance. The fact that even with limited education you had the vision to have the best education for your kids tells us that books and degrees only teach us so much.
You are probably the strongest woman; correction, strongest person I know, I can only wish to be as strong as you because I know I would fail miserably. You have not just been a mother to me, Didi, Jiju and that little monkey called Kuhu but also to the entire family; honestly I dont know where we would be without you. So at this anniversary of yours make a resolution to be your own person; visit your son and daughters (you can ignore the daughters; anyway they do not have a penchant for meat so they miss the best part of having you as our Mom) as often as you can. Its time you let your hair down and gave up worrying about the family and started worrying only about your son. Its time you visited him frequently and cooked for him :P
Anyway I need to steal some recipes and impress others by calling them my own. By the way your sense of humour is to be envied (with the exception of the fact that you just cant control yourself when someone farts).

From all of us, we love you Maa; and yeah I continue to ride my bike slow even though I burnt my bank account to buy a 500cc engine.

PS: not much different from what I wrote last time but then you remain the same as perfection cant be improved!

Mooo Point!!!!

Driving on the Mumbai - Pune highway blazing in all its glory; the excitement was palpable; the excitement was not because; as part of our induction program our employer was taking us to a "I do not know how many stars resort" (it was definitely more than 5) in Lavassa but because the General Election 2014 results were coming in. The BJP juggernaut was blowing everything in its path and storming its way to power. I remember clenching my fist and shouting out loud the BJP's marketing masterstroke of a tagline "Achhe din aane wale hai." Its not as if I was or am a great fan of their Prime Ministerial candidate then and PM now but it was great to not have a moron as a PM and get rid of this dynasty politics. That fateful Arnab interview did more for the nation than we realize.

One and half years on and a couple of decent budgets later; the economy is booming, a bunch of 20 somethings have taken the nation by storm, gazillions of dollars are flowing and yet the news headlines everyday are not even remotely related to these but some non-nonsensical drama about religion, beef and what not. There has been a murder (lets call it that period) because the poor guy apparently stored beef in his refrigerator. A big shout out to all you morons out there! You saved the day for all of us Hindus; I mean how dare someone even think of having beef. You know what lets kill everyone and anyone who dares to do that; lets start a civil war; our precious religion is in danger. Lets forget about getting a job, lets forget about earning a living and more importantly lets forget about humanity. BTW where are you people when hundreds of thousands of cows roam on the roads of your cities where actually vehicles are supposed to ply. Why dont you get them sheds, take care of them, give them food; this is how you are supposed to treat someone you worship? What is going to happend to them once they are of no use to their owners? but who is asking these questions and it doesnt make good television too. Mouse is supposed to be Lord Ganesha's ride; there is a whole tribe in East India who eat mice (they are known by the name which suggests that too), why not stop them. Just in case you didnt now they are Hindus too. Goddess Durga's ride is Lion, we poached them and sold their bones and skin until they were on their verge of being extinct; they were not Hindus, were they?

Price of pulses is soaring but lets discuss who ate beef and who didnt. I voted for change, I voted to remove dynasty politics from India, I didnt vote to read all this mess in the newspapers everyday. Law and order is the responsibility of the state government; agreed and to expect that the current party in power in UP will uphold the rule of law is foolhardy; agreed but if the party at centre does not banish its miscreants and also some of its allied; there will be another "wave" which shift the ground beneath its feet before they say "meat ban." If you have to ban to prevent animal cruelty, its more understandable but then ban all animal slaughter ( please dont do it, I cant survive without mutton). Mr. Lalu Yadav is seldom right and him talking logic is even rare but he was right when he said some Hindus eat beef too, I have sat across while some Hindu friends of mine have had beef. They are far better human beings than all these idiots and faith and religion is supposed to make you a better person so by that logic they are far better Hindus too. Dear Mr. PM we voted for you to become our CEO so that the Nation improves as a whole not just the economy, we did not vote to live under the fear that a mob will knock on our doors and ask for your religion or better still ask us to pull down our pants so that they can verify for themselves. Yes, the media is biased against you, but you have to make it work despite them. The economy might be improving, but no banana republic has ever succeeded, a look at our neighbors is enough to prove this. We did not vote for Dadri Mr. PM, we did not vote for this shit. As the urdu poet Faiz had said "Ye daag daag ujaalaa, ye shab gaziidaa sahar wo intazaar thaa jis kaa, ye wo sahar to nahii.ye wo sahar to nahii. jis kii aarazuu lekar chale the yaar ki mil jaayegii kahii na kahii"

Till that sahar comes; as another great poet Joey Tribbiani had said "its all moooo"!!!!

"Khana Khaya ki Nahi"

Mom, it has been 10 years since I left home and yet "khana khaya ki nahi" is still the question I answer every night, if the answer is yes then I have to explain the entire recipe to you and God save me if the answer is no. Mom it is okay sometimes if I skip a meal or eat a tad bit later, I am not going to fall sick. I am not actually dying of malnutrition if I skip a meal. This question becomes a little more complex when you call on a Friday or a Saturday night, when suddenly I have 15 missed calls on my phone and all of them from you. Mom, if I do not pick up the phone that means I may be busy (and Mom I will be busy on Friday and Saturday night) , it does not necessarily mean that I may be lying in a ditch somewhere. Sometimes when my voice is heavy, it is just because I slept too much not because I guzzled a pitcher of ice. ( well, though sometimes it does :P)

It is funny how the person who loves you the most in the world suddenly imagines the worst possible things that can happen to you, all you have to do is not pick your mother's call a couple of times. When I ride my bike Mom, I drive carefully because you know I also kind of like to keep myself alive, I do not drive at breakneck speed, doing all kinds of stunts which I know you imagine me doing everyday. I never understood your plans for me, you wanted me to ace IIT, clear IIM and then become an IAS. I screwed up JEE; MBA yeah just change the placement of an I and I was there and sure as hell I am not going to prepare for UPSC. So yeah Mom; we are on the same plane, you do not listen to me, I do not listen to you.

Well before I diss you some more, I will accept I am not the greatest son in the world either. I can find all my clothes, socks, towels when I am on my own and suddenly when home for holidays these things magically disappear. Well may be because you have put them on proper shelves and I habitually search for them on the floor. I suddenly develop a dislike for bhindi, lauki and all those vegetables supposedly good for your health when you are cooking, because I know; no matter how sick or tired you are you will cook something I like. I suddenly start sleeping for lengths which is more closer to animal's hibernation than a human body's needs when I know you are there to tell Dad to mind his own business when he tries to wake me up. You are what Sridevi played in English Vinglish; though I would like to believe I was a better child than them.

If mothers had their way every son would look like Adnan Sami (before he got those surgeries done). It is okay if you have not taken bath for some days, they will curse you but then, will come a voice "subah se kuch khaya ki nahi". Needless to say I miss you Maa, but since I am so very good at expressing my emotions even when absolutely necessary you know I am never gonna say it.

You make me proud when you go for computer lessons so that you can follow me on social media. Though that pride comes with beads of cold sweat. The thought of you following all my activities gives me goosebumps even now. I thank profusely to Facebook for all those privacy settings; hell would break lose if you had full access. You make me proud when you struggle to work your way through a smart phone. You taught me never to give up. I miss you more than I would like to say though you would be the worst censor board to my life. I miss walking behind you with holding the fag end of your aanchal through my fingers ( i vaguely remember it). I miss your food (ahh that mutton and fish). No matter how hard I try, I still can't cook like you; and I am not saying this just because you are my Mom, but you are the best cook in the world.

I miss you running your hand through my hair; well I also miss my hair to begin with. And I know I need to work out when you no longer say "kitna dubla ho gaya hai". I miss coming home late to your glares because I played cricket with my friends 10 minutes more. I miss coming home from school only to listen (Maths me 95! 100 kyu nahi aaya). You taught me right from the very beginning, never to be satisfied; to always aim higher. Though you take it a bit too far when you still ask me to prepare for UPSC, but it is not you it's Bihar running in your veins. I have been accused of someone who likes to please people, well all my life I saw you take care of everyone ignoring yourself; some of it was bound to rub off on me and only you could look through my facade of being happy.

I know this too is a facade to write about you on mother's day, and you do know that I do not believe in such days. But I felt like writing about you today, I may not have written well since you are much more than just a page of an unworthy son's writing. And I could go on but Maa "Subah se kuch khaya nai hai" :P

Love you!!!!

Immorally Correct!

At a time when the elderly are beginning to wake up, decent young ones are fast asleep and indecent ones like me are busy watching american tv series (this Orange is the New Black is engrossing; I mean what more do you want, lots of hot girls locked away together in a prison with just a couple of obnoxious men to trouble the screen space); me I am busy munching on some snacks my mother so lovingly leaves on my table even before I reach home on a vacation and then I make the cardinal mistake of watching news and listen to Lennon sing about unity and peace thereafter.

I mean that guy was seriously out of his mind, he sang about no religion, about peace. Can you imagine the bloody guts on him? He did visit India didn't he? Even then! He should have known that we have to preserve our culture at all costs. A culture that has for years worshipped women as goddesses with great fervor at pandals and then has burnt them because the father of their daughter-in-law/wife was not grateful enough to pay dowry for accepting his daughter (I wonder though with the messed up sex ratio till when will this continue, call it poetic justice if you will!). These modern city girls are the worst, they wear skirts and short pants (hot pants I believe is the right word) and then they visit pubs and lounges and invite men to rape them. How dare they? Don't they know that this countrys' eminent politicians who are also the custodians of our morals by the way, allow our macho boys to make some mistakes in their 'ladakpan'. And then to make matter worse they even use smartphones, just to think of their audacity! Don't they know that playing candy crush too is illicit immoral behaviour which might force unwilling men to rape them. Utter disregard for our culture and history, huh!. I mean otherwise we men are very well behaved but the moment we see a smartphone and a jeans/skirt/pants/anything other than saree, kurta, burqa; we feel its our moral duty to teach these girls a lesson they won't forget.

A gentleman from Karnataka (who might have been a part of the current central government but this stupidly immoral social media made the party in power run away from him) was the first to join the clamour asking girls to behave lest they should be punished and he did punish them some years ago, beating women for visting pubs. He was right, of course, visiting pubs and consuming alcohol has culturally been the birthright of men. Aren't men in their machismo culturally supposed to drink and then wreak havoc upon women. Hell we even take time out of killing men of other religion in times of riot to rape women. It is our moral duty to correct these wayward women. Maybe that is why we won't even put legalising prostitution on discussion table so that the unsatisfied libido can get a fix, at a price though. I mean why should we, there are so many women walking alone, take your pick! Don't legalise it right away but have the damn guts to discuss it at least.

I wonder though what dress was that six year old wearing and what smartphone was she carrying before she was raped in her school and in a city like Bangalore no less. Which pub did she go to?

It is okay if our streets are full of lecherous hoodlums and homes full of chauvinistic men but our movies should have fully draped women lest they should invigorate, us testosterone charged lewd men to gawk and rape women. It is okay if school girls are raped in broad daylight but our movies should not offend our so called moral and religious custodians. And the cherry on the cake is that, it is okay to rape women if you are a juvenile. Of course since you were below 18 years of age you did not realise that you were raping her; you thought you were playing 'ghar - ghar'. You can get away with rape if you are less than 18 years of age but you cannot drink alcohol in the capital until you are 25. Incredible India! Whatever satisfies our big bloated moral ego.

It is a country where girls do not prefer the luxury of cabs even if they can afford it, they might as well take more time and cramp in a bus because they are too damn afraid. It is a country where a leading politician can declare that rape is a mistake of 'ladakpan' and should be forgiven thinking it will strenthen the vote bank. Aptly his state leads the crime charts and I am sure he and his son lead the money charts.

I am not a feminist because I hate that crap Shobha De writes. I come across as the eternal cynic, maybe I am. Though I am definitely morally wrong; because I believe if I can wear anything I want so can the opposite sex (don't get ideas I dress quite conservatively), if I am allowed to smoke and drink so are they and if I am allowed to use a bloody smartphone so are they. Whats with the smartphone thing anyway; I am seriously trying to figure out how this connects to crime on women, I simply can't fathom even after watching Arnab Goswami in his full rage lambasting one politician after another. I believe we censor too much, even though our conscience and values are gutted to the core. I am a Hindu with an unfulfilled but an insatiable desire to learn Urdu and since childhood I have loved the mutton cooked on Bakra-eid. I believe in kneeling down at Hazratbal mosque and be mesmerized by its beauty along with the trekking for the blessings of Vaishno Devi , I believe in offering my prayer at Ajmer-Sharif along with visting temples at Pushkar, enjoying the serenity of Churches everywhere and its not just me so do the people around me. I am part of a generation which might visit the pubs more but does not give a shit about the religion and caste of the person across the table and still has faith in God, a generation corrupted by movies and TV Series which might visit the temples/mosques/churches less but their libido is not charged on the call of a religious leader and they do not have an adrenalin rush to kill because the name of the person indicated a different religion. And hence I am not alone when I humm the Lennon song

                      "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
                      I hope someday you'll join us and the world will live as one."

Till that day I prefer to be morally wrong or shall I say Immorally Correct!

Dreams do come true....

After I was done crying my heart out over phone telling my sister how stupid was I to say in a leading Paints company's that their GD topic in itself was wrong and then get chucked out, when everyone else like good MBAs were busy quoting Apple and Samsung. My sister lovingly scolded me and said "what would have I said to people that my brother sells paints? I want to tell them that my brother works for HSBC so go and study".

Well after another GD mishap, only this time the entire group was staring at gallows, because we had been so well trained to speak eloquently for two years that no one allowed anyone to speak. I somehow managed to wriggle free. As I was preparing for the battle ahead, I reminisced. Some years ago as most of us were deciding which engineering college we were going to waste our time and Dad's money. One rich friend was going to USA to do exactly the same, only in dollars and he was opening an account in HSBC.For a middle class Patna guy who was used to run down bank buildings with beetle spit artwork adorning walls, chairs which could land even the branch manager on his posterior anytime, that HSBC building was a bliss and I just wondered wouldn't it be nice to be here someday.

Enough romanticising, I was first in line for the interview, checked my tie, need not check my hair. In I went with the stride and energy to conquer the world, out I came sweating profusely in December Delhi winter and I am sure the two-three hairs that I have on my head were standing. After I was done kicking and cursing myself, I treated myself with the combination of nicotine and caffeine for the next eight hours, stomach begged for food, lungs cried for mercy. I kept at it.

Finally they were ready, two names were announced I was not there, my heart sank. In a few microseconds I recalled all bunk classes and all drunken nights, basically I counted my sins and believe me they were many. But then came those two beautiful words my Dad had chosen to be my name. I was numb, ecstatic. Lifted up, thrown down, shirt torn but the most fun was waking up my Mom in the middle of the night to let her know that from now on I would be buying leather purses for her from my own money and they could be a bit expensive.
As goes my favourite quote "Roshni agar manjoor ho khuda ko to aandhiyon me bi chirag jalte hai!!!!"

This is the end Beautiful Friend

As Jim Morrison croons ever so softly in my ears in a way only he can you can't help but be a bit romantic about the days gone by. But sadly even good old Jimmy can't help, let's be honest no one is going to miss those gazillion god forsaken presentations, those extra lectures on weekends, those bloody surprise quizzes (yes they were always a surprise even when the profs were gracious enough to announce in time) and what was that all about, starting exams on Sundays; optimization of resources eh? That cold sweat even in the chilliest of Delhi winter brought about by mere thought of placements, that crappy mess food and those dastardly chain mails, hostel people we day scholars seriously had sympathy and compassion for all your troubles but a separate mail group could have done wonders to our sleep. The worse part every damn professor knew my name and before you even think, I must confess it had nothing to do with my cp or dcp just my hairstyle or the lack of it. What I will miss is that laughter out of nowhere in class; that euphoria after getting placed brought down by some serious kicks in the choicest of places, hanging around Sonu Dhabha who learnt more economics from being in the vicinity of IMI than us; he practically implemented the concept that monopoly allows you to charge insane prices, but he allowed us that night fag so we didn’t complain. Entering the exam room while being confused about which subject's it was let alone the syllabus (believe it or not it has happened), not give a certain four letter word(s) as long as the attendance was marked; that ohh so beautiful parking lot; that's where the party was. And what would we have done without smart phones, without candy crush (yes I did play it unapologetically so). Those open book exams where the “open” books were hardly of any help, you needed to know which topic lies where in the first place and it doesn’t help when the cellophane packing is still on when you are trying to figure that out. Mobiles snatched, I cards kept; this batch has seen it all and done it all (“all” can’t be mentioned here) and not to mention some embarrassing confessions (not for us) on Facebook. Venkatesh Sir’s hilarious jokes just to keep us awake in the second class; I wish I could share some here but as Kathuria Sir would say Chatham house rules prevail. Those clichéd lines by many profs “when we were your age” yes Sir/madam when you were our age you also pulled the same crap we did. Running around pgdm office in the basement hoping somehow that attendance figures would change miraculously and a subgrade would be saved and then that college gossip, no one was spared and if some were, well then they seriously had a pretty non happening college life. So yes as much as I hate to admit it, IMI you will be missed if for nothing then just for the fact that before anyone could get a whiff 2 years had come and gone. Those friendships forged won’t be missed because we will be there in every painting of each other’s lives but the canvas shall cease to be the same. As Mr. Morrison would have said “It hurts to set you free; But you'll never follow me The end of laughter and soft lies; The end of nights we tried to die This is the end; Beautiful friend, the end!” Asta la vista IMI you were a beautiful friend!!!!

377 ways of stupidity

I am not going to go into the much cliched territory and remind everyone of the land of Khajuraho and kamasutra (oops i just did), its plain and simple rubbish and thats all there is. No debate nothing, if freedom means something in this democracy and i thought it did. I dont care who swings which way; as it is with the screwed up sex ratio it bodes well for straight men like me to have more men (smart and talented) being gay so that ugly and untalented ones (like me) have better opportunities. I can't possibly fathom the logic behind a man being romantically involved with another man, hell there isnt any logic but then who searches for logic in love. People have gone on the roof and shouted that its a personal choice, i dont know but for many i believe it wont even be a choice, you are may be born that way, the same way as that supposedly "normal" people like many of us dont think before getting attracted to a beautiful girl. What has to be driven by logic are judgements and legislations. Political party save BJP( god help them) have gone on to criticise the judgement, its all hogwash. That legislation dating back to 1860 should have been torn apart then and there, that we still choose to be governed by colonial era laws speaks volumes of our own sense of judgement. As soon as Delhi High Court gave its verdict that law could have been ammended but the parliament chose to sit on it. All i want to say is its futile to blame the Supreme Court when the same could have been achieved by the people who represent the democracy of India. As far as i understand the law and i do not understand much but the Supreme Court has merely said that Delhi High Court over-stepped its limits. May be i am wrong or may be i am not, the question is bring a damn ordinance in the parliament and scrap the whole issue; but why should that be done when political mileage can be garnered out of it. the pace was prety quick when an ordinance had to be brought to save tainted leaders wasnt it? And then we have our right wing, moral guards of Hinduism supporting the judgement. The wave that they seem to riding upon will disappear under them as quickly it appeared if you rub the youth in this country the wrong way.They may or may not be directly affected by the judgement but they know wrong from right and this aint right. whats worse is look at the company we are in, it doesnt paint a pretty picture; most of the African countries, middle east etc. A 17 year old can get away with rape and murder but a reputed author like Vikram Seth might be jailed because his choice isnt "natural". Well rape is natural isnt it?