Deja-Vu

He loosened his tie as the cab rolled on slowly in the traffic. He threw his head back and shut his eyes. What a week. He had not expected the trip to be this busy and taxing. Every day had drawn on till late, leaving him listless and heavy headed with barely enough energy to crawl back to the hotel.



He had not taken the guys out for drink. He could not head out his favourite pub and play pool. He had not called his old buddies yet. But today, today he had taken the afternoon off. Work was almost over and he was leaving tomorrow. Besides, how could he not? It had been 4 years since ...




He jumped out of the cab at the park and quickly strolled in. It was late in the afternoon and a hot day but the skaters whizzed past him relentlessly. A quick scan around and he slowly smiled as he realized she was late. He bought a sandwich from the vendor and sat down on the bench.




As he slowly looked around again, he could see the signs of change. The fancy outdoor theatre, the new jazz bar, the imposing modern sculpture. It was all too alien and all strangely familiar. The place reminiscent of a time when they dreamed and believed in soulmates. Sometimes, it is astonishing how much of our past lives we can fold and seal away until a fragrance, a picture , a song brings all those memories back in full flood.




This was a first. He would be waiting by now. She paused on her way to look at the glass windows of the ticket booth. The face staring back at her was anxious. She smoothed her hair down and dabbed on some gloss as she entered the park. "I should calm down", she thought for the tenth time. But she had been nervous since the sms earlier that day.


And then just as she spotted him, he turned and looked right at her. She could see the streak of grey had increased but he still looked young. "Ah! Men are so lucky. They always look like boys", she thought. And as their eyes met, the years of exile melted away and she broke into a big smile.




"Her hair is still the same" a voice spoke in his head the instant he saw her. He stood up and walked towards her slowly. And when he saw her smile, it was as if nothing had changed. A small knot deep in his chest
dissolved and he smiled back at her radiantly.




"Hey"


"Hey, how are you?", she said.


There was brief pause as they held each other's gaze.


"You look the same", he said.


"Yeah, same but older".


"Older is wiser", he countered.


And pat came the reply with a sly smile ,"yeah if I had a clump of grey hair I'd like to believe I am wiser too".

And then she saw the sandwich on the bench "Have you eaten?"

It was his turn. "Is that the first thing you can think of to say after four years? "


They laughed and walked towards the row of street food stalls and tables.


"How is everyone at home?"


"Fine"


"Hmmm.. everyone says I'm fine.."


She nodded.





And then they started to talk. About everything. Everything they had held back all this while, everything they were desperate to share but resolved never to. About anger and frustration and hope and hurt and happiness and shame and victories and downfalls. Thoughts they both knew only the other could understand.


And as it grew darker, the voices died.


They got up and walked to the edge of the water. And , maybe for the last time, sat on the hard ground, holding hands, the water lapping at their heels.



_

Everybody Hurts

Mark Twain says, "The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself."

I think it is the worst punishment.

How bitter it is to look at the mirror and see a person you have lost respect for.

And even on the brightest and sunniest days in future, the image will be a haunting reminder of how you were at the lowest point in your life.


_

Electric boots and a mohair suit

Benny and the Jets on 27 dresses again.

Why do I love this song so much ?


Is it the slow pulsating rythym  or Elton John's voice as it floats effortlessly over the high note at "magaziiine".


The song is great for all moods - brassy and brazen , or sad and soulful , or sultry and sensuous.


_

At last ..

I found it.

It has been many, many months now since I started looking for a really good Indian news site - a site with comprehensive, cerebral, well-organized and well-formatted content.


Frustrated with BBC's laconic approach towards Asian news and ndtv's penchant for luridness I sat wondering how the hallmarks of journalistic brilliance had disappeared


Idly I seeked out the Hindu online and came across a page that looked like an enhanced digital scan of the paper in print. It wasn’t very encouraging but then, I chanced to click on a link to their beta site.


And my friends, I am happy to proclaim, there will be no looking back.


http://beta.thehindu.com/


This is the link. Read it. Tag it. Bookmark it.

If you are tired of front pages reporting bolly wood stories ,

if you abhor the sight of ten lines of a story squashed between 'pictures of hot celebrities' and an ad for money to India,

if you are one of those people who still believe what your teacher told you in school (Read the newspaper editorial , it will improve your English ),

if you still value analytical features over a flash news ticker ... then dear friend, your search is over.


I was mesmerized by the well-spaced layout and font, the subdued colours, the beauty of language, and the erudite columns.



Also featured is a lecture by Guardian editor "Does journalism exist?"


Quoting from that lecture on the subject of what constitutes good journalism is the following -


"they seemed to represent the best of journalistic virtues – courage, campaigning, toughness, compassion, humour, irreverence; a serious engagement with serious things; a sense of fairness; an eye for injustice; a passion for explaining; knowing how to achieve impact; a connection with readers. "


I hope and wish The Hindu online is well on its way to embody these virtues.




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Cupid's Day

 

 

My three little lights keep me company as this thought looms large on my mind today

It must have been really love, isn't it, when memories are enough to soothe the agony and fill the void.

_

One for All

बचपन में पढ़ा था  कि हिंदी हमारी राष्ट्र भाषा है |    जबसे पढ़ा , तबसे लगता था कि कहीं भारतीय संविधान के किसी पन्ने पर , छोटे से अक्षरों में यही लिखा होगा - जैसे राष्ट्रीय पक्षी मोर, राष्ट्रीय खेल Hockey वैसे राष्ट्रीय भाषा हिंदी |

इसलिए मुझे भी बहुत गुस्सा आता था जब मेरे कुछ दोस्त हिंदी बोलना या सीखना टाल देते थे | मन में ऐसा लगता कि ये भी कैसे पढ़े-लिखे धीठ हैं जो अपनी राष्ट्र भाषा को ही नहीं स्वीकारते |

कहते शर्म आती है , लेकिन कुछ दिनों पहले तक मुझे पता नहीं था कि हिंदी केवल हमारी अफ्फ्सरी भाषा है |  न तो भारतीय संविधान मे , न तो कानूनी नियमों मे कोई राष्ट्रीय भाषा परिभाषित है |

अब थोडा समझ में आता है , कि क्यों कुछ राज्यों मे इतना विरोध है हिंदी से | अब कोई उड़ीसा मे हो तो उसका Official काम तो ओडिया मे हो जाएगा | और व्यवसायिक काम के लिए तो आज कल सिर्फ english कि ज़रुरत है |
तो फिर उसे क्या पड़ी है कहीं और कि भाषा पढने की |

ज़रुरत तो नहीं , लेकिन महत्वपूर्ण है |
मेरे साथ कुछ Chinese , French और Korean काम करतें हैं | साथ मे एक देसी भी है | बाकि सभी को बहुत आश्चर्य  होता है कि हम भारतीय english  मे बात करतें हैं | वैसे तो हम २ - ३ भाषा जानते हैं लेकिन समन्वय के लिए English का हाथ पकड़ना पड़ता है | क्या ये अजीब नहीं कि जिस देश मे ८०० प्रकार की बोली हो उसके नागरिक आपस मे सिर्फ English बात कर सकते हैं |

और इस परिस्थिति को अगर बदलना है तो हिंदी को ही अपनाना पड़ेगा क्योंकि ४०% जनता हिंदी बोल सकती है |
बाकी भाषाओँ के अंक १०% से भी कम हैं | हिंदी सबसे सरल न हो, सबसे प्राचीन और सांस्कृतिक न हो, सबसे वैज्ञानिक न हो लेकिन सबसे प्रचिलित ज़रूर है |

लेकिन जैसे मेरे एक दोस्त ने कहा , ज़बरदस्ती करने से कोई नहीं सीखता - उस भाषा के प्रति दिलचस्पी पैदा करनी पड़ेगी | tv  और Bollywood ने बहुत बढ़ावा दिया है, इसी रूचि को दुसरे माध्यम से बढ़ाना है |

और हिंदी को भी बदलना होगा | नए शब्दों को शामिल करना होगा | अगर "Jai Ho " को english मे अपना सकतें हैं तो हिंदी को भी थोडा आधुनिक होना होगा | आखिर उस भाषा का क्या भविष्य जिसमे "cool " के लिए शब्द न हो | :-)



It took me two and a half hours to write this in Hindi and I know reading it cannot be much easier. So here is the translation.

As a kid I remember learning that Hindi is our national language. Since then I believed that it was scribbled down somewhere on a page in the constitution. There were enough of "national” symbols around. National bird, peacock, National sport- hockey. This was just an addition to the list.


So, I always got angry when some friends of mine had this resistance towards speaking and learning Hindi. I always thought of them as educated and stubborn idiots to disregard their own national language.


To my great shame, I discovered not so long ago, that nowhere in the Indian Constitution or Law is a "national language" defined. Hindi is just an Official Language.


I now understand why some states have this opposition to Hindi. After all someone in Orissa can get by with Odiya for his official work and English for his professional circle. What urge would he then have to go learn a language that belongs to another state?

It may not be necessary, but it is of importance.
I work with few Chinese, French, Korean and one other India guy. The others are always astonished when the two Indians talk only in English. Individually we can speak 2 or 3 languages but alas only English can link us. Isn't it ironic that for a country with 800 dialects, its people rely on English to talk to each other?

 And if this has to change, like it or not, we have to adopt Hindi. 40% of the population is fluent in it. Other languages barely mark up to 10%. Hindi may not be the easiest or the most culturally rich or the most scientific, but it is the most widely spoken.


 But as one of my friends says, you cannot shove it down people's throats. TV and Bollywood have kindled interest. This has to be encouraged and kept alive. And finally Hindi has to adapt to the modern times and broaden its vocabulary. After all, if Jai Ho can be imbibed into English, what future can a language have if it does not even have a word for "cool".


_

A room with a view

Imagine a bed with a blue spread in a room with lace blue curtains.That is in a grey tall house with blue shutters and white railing.
Which is perched alone on the brink of a deep blue sea and framed by a dense blue sky.

If this is the picture you painted..



Then you are in the quaintly quixotic Rodaanthe.



When I saw the movie the first time , I was too caught up in the story of love and loss and couldn't stop from dissolving into tears at the end.



But yesterday, a relaxing Sunday evening at home, I watched the movie again. And this time it dawned on me - just how vivid and breathtakingly beautiful this movie is.



And I don't mean scenic beauty. The imagery the movie inspires is so powerful.



You want to be there. You can see yourself right there.


Together, alone for miles around. Walking arms around the waist on the sand.



Standing on the deck with the wind whipping through the hair and lashing at the face. The odd splash from a huge wave breaking below as you gaze on absently.



Sitting at the cosy restaurant dimly lit by the one light at your table. From the window, you see the dark dark sea and the frothy white waves rushing in.



The images are heady and intoxicating. And you want to half-close your eyes and keep dreaming on.



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