Wednesday, 25 March 2026

My Men & Sarees

My Men and My Sarees


Oh Please... no no... its not like that.... 

Don't believe me.... okay .. read on

The first man in my life, my Dad (obviously! ) got me my first Saree (again obviously)
That was that phase in life..... ladki ki shaadi karni hai... so let us start on the trousseau... 
Started mightly early i say!!! So, on one of his trips to DRDO at Bangalore, he picked up this Navy Blue and Green Kanjivaram for me... he liked a Red one (i think my mom must have told him.... laaal le kar aana...) but there was a Foreigner who loved the Red and my Dad, very magnanimously, told her .. oh you are our Guest,  so you please go ahead and take the Saree .. Now Dad, i understand your generosity, but don't really... ;yes, so this blue and green saree. Looks official enough, so this saree has seen meetings, and presentations through... and something about a Kanjeevaram silk.... it stays in place ... even when i do my antics throughout the day. 
My second ... third ... fourth.... and quite a few after that were picked up by my Dad, as also my wedding saree... a Red Banarasi Jaal in Satin... and all i do is take it out, and look at it lovingly, and pack it back in... lovingly. 
Next was my brother... who would spoil me.. Posted at Pune, he would take me to Lakshmi Road many a time.. to indulge me with Cadbury's Black Currant ice cream, and a dress .. each Rakshabandhan. He bought me my Abstract Art Printed Silks... still have very vivid memories of those ones which i wore till they were threadbare. 
Next came my Husband... who did all my wedding saree shopping from the inlaws side... (and truthfully, but don't ever tell him i told you so... he picks up some very nice sarees). Lovely colours.. a navy blue with a magenta border... with a Golden Peacock on the palla, A maroon silk thread kanjivaram, a Staple Green and Red Pattu podavai... and another Navy Blue with a Stunning Magenta Kanjivaram. (love love love .. simple and elegant) Many more... but i will have to open up my closet to check. 

The Three Men, Who Got me Sarees!
Two still do, but the frequency is restricted



And Life Happened

Isn't it amazing,
how life ends up happening just when you try to make a change for yourself?

And isnt it amazing, that life also happens how you sometimes don't wish it to happen?

And again, isn't it amazing how it turns out that life how it happened was what you actually needed?

Life, amazes me.

Some memories from babyhood are still with me, how i wandered away from home one evening with some neighbourhood children, and my ma came searching for me. Remember sitting in dirt, playing with dust, in some dark corner. Hadn't my ma found me, i would probably be a part of the lost kids statistics. Not who i am today. Though i dread to think what my parents would have done. Remember getting my head stuck in a wooden garden gate. And how they coaxed me to get it out. Another incident,when i fell off into a drain, and how i sat in my classroom, in just my chemise and bloomers till my school uniform dried out :). All this in Kanpur.
Don't remember much of my thoughts  till i was say 8.
Learnt that fantasy and a l'il ol' bit of white lies came in to my vocabulary.

Aravankadu - where my dad was posted next, was mostly hospital trips and how i adulted enough to accompany my brother to the Medical room. How we walked to get our shots. My dad's office just near the main gate. Some random memories of Ooty, Dodabetta and Coonoor. Wellington Staff College, Botanical gardens and the endless coffee plantations. My kid brother's operation and how my mom prayed all the time for him to get out of anaesthesia after the gig. Dr Sayal! Wonder where he is these days. He was a strength for my parents.

Fast forward to Dad's next posting .. Jabalpur. St. Joseph's Convent. Learning to write and converse in Hindi. Mrs Anne Dsouza , whom i adored while being shit scared, and Mrs Lauren Dsouza who, seeing my needlework doily with lazy daisy stitch, called me Lazy. Getting royally insulted in class was probably the norm on those schools.  Shamed into performance or shamed out of studying, whatever you would chose to do.Living in a residential colony surrounded by boys, and becoming somewhat of a tomboy myself. The garden full of fruit trees, guavas, mangoes, bananas, neem, papaya. The "haud" at the back of the house, the kitchen garden. That little mountain or call it a hillock, behind my home, where we would carry some snacks and sandwiches for impromptu picnics. Where we found many quartz and crystal stones. Pathbaba temple, Deluxe cinema, Sadar, Coffee House, PK Book Store and Modern Stores. Amar Chitra Katha that we read standing in PK book store. Chandamama , Parag, Nandan and Champak ... We read a lot. And the softy icecream, and the first time we started getting pocket money, a right royal amount 15 ps. a week ;which went on to 25 ps or 4 annas a week over the next two years :)
Dad and Ma would take us on a weekly outing. And a dosa or idli at the Indian Coffee house which was usually followed by a softy ice cream at Modern Stores  And the Meetha Pan, somewhere near Delight Talkies , Civil Lines.
Dad getting us bubblegum :) and Mom reprimanding him for that. That was childhood fun.
Falling terribly sick during a holiday to Chandigarh and Delhi, with Malaria and Typhoid together. Didn't do anything half way there too.  My first hospitalization in Safdarjung hospital (the loos were dirty even then). And spending a month or more at Masis in Panchsheel.  Realizing that your being ill does not spare you from molestation. So what if it was a cousin with his experimentation! Living with that guilt.

Then Dad moved to Ambajhari. Teenage happened and all the memories and angst of growing up happened there. My parents decided i could go to Central School. Why i need to ask them. the kids were rude, they were mean and they were bitchy like hell. Took a whole lot of time to get adjusted to the environment. Hated school, had hardly any friends. And was always filled with angst. And against this, my brother went to another school. so i missed a buddy and a pal. School life was good and bad, the good may have outweighed the bad in the long run, but thinking back about it, i feel sorry for the poor kid. To be the favourite of teachers, and the butt of all jokes of classmates. to be a plump kid always dreaming and be ragged day in day out. Didn't really make many friends. Some i did, some stayed, some hung around, some fate kept throwing back. Guess i wasn't done with them. First crushes, and stupidities. How i always had a crush on someone who had a crush on someone else. Like i was never enough. NOt pretty enough, not smart enough, not enough. It is that all children go through this phase? Or was it me?

Leaving school. Topping in Maths thanks to Dad, and in Social Studies thanks to Ma. And yes, Tuli Madam. i remember her. I loved some teachers and detested some. Tolerated some. But learnt i could sing, enjoyed plays and also HOckey.. Siddiqui sir.  And volleyball, which i think i liked better than hockey. But the hockey team was what went on to get fame. And it was a large enough team, so found some space in it, and some grudging friendships. SFS college, seminary hills and Vinita Sharma. Some friends then, there, now lost. And haven't been able to find Chandrakant. I wonder where he is, and hope he is well. Was a solid buddy. Strange, met while playing hockey for the college, and some friendships stick. Kept bumping into him for years, and later on him and his wife. 
Institute of Science .. Padma came into my life. Somewhere we clicked. Also because fate threw us together and then we were neighbours. Best few years of my life. Incessant chatter, our  bus runs, Maharajbagh, bhajiyas at thelas, and chai. And those absolutely killer spicy samosas at Buldi Bus stand. Naren, Anil, Kaushal, Rajesh, Sandeep, Pawan, Jaideep. Naren and Anil came as a set of twins, as I and Padma were. They stuck together like siamese twins. Kaushal was someone who got in gradually. Somewhere, he became my best friend, someone who understood me,and whom i understood, without words. Admired that Kid. Sad, fate took him away too soon. Those were some good years. Rajesh, whom i made it a point to fight with EACH and EVERY year. God, was he painful in his tight white jeans, and those cowboy boots and hat. He's much the same still, but guess, we have gotten used to him being what he is. His crush on Sunita, and how she tagged him along like a pup.  How i smile at those memories. Nostalgia. Pawan who was Kaushals' sidekick. And well, i guess we were popular with the guys as there were some very pretty girls in ambajhari the guys wanted intros to.
i always though Naren had a thing for Padma, but then Naren had a thing for Neeta, Anita, Sangeeta, Papeeta all eeta. Permanent Late Lateef Naren. Jaita with her soft spot for Naren and Kaushal and kaushal blushing on being teased. It was later in the PG did Jaita develop a crush on Sunil. Guess they both had/have something.. a connect beyond, which is cute.

Left Institute to do my MBA while the rest continued to do their Masters in Science. Did i gain, did i lose. Friends i missed. made some. the Late Shilpa Rathi,  Nishat Nanjiani. The rest i wasnt very friendly with. Made an enemy of Yagya when we did the project together, used her help to go to the project, but wasnt thankful enough.

The slog to get a job after graduation. MBA with no prospects as it wasnt a top tier institute and Nagpur had no jobs. Some small time assignments. Some growing up experiences. Padma's marriage and then the arrival of Jeet, Nephew no. 1. Padma's son :)
More meetings with Kaushal, and developing a kinship with him. Truly special. A pretty platonic love. But deep. Surprising how people mistake that for romantic love. Could have been, could not have been, who knows. We didn't let it develop much there.
Naren somehow went missing here. I dont remember where he was. Uni doing his MPhil? Sandeep became a dear friend. Still is. Will remain. There's something about him that clicks. Something stable, consistent. Endearing.

Then sometime, i move to Mumbai, or Bombay as it was known then. oh boy....i learnt what freedom meant, and how responsibility came along with freedom. Living in a hostel, following rules, breaking some, making friends. Losing friends. Kavita, Dianah , Sinchan, Ashok.... some more, whose names i forget. Some memories, Movies, dinners. Lost touch with Kavita, Dianah, Ashok. Sinchan, the one who keeps re-appearing, like the story aint over yet. or wasnt ever there, as things go. Mumbai was fun. To learn that you could be physically attracted to someone ... but keep the boundaries. To know that it was a shock for childhood friends to see me with a boyfriend, and sermonize that i ought to get married. (A Hs them, they could probably fuck girls, but me kissing another guy gave them jitters !!! )
Meeting Gagan, and how marriage happened.
Childhood ended :)
And then Adulting happened , in true form


More tales in between, newer memories.
 And that's another story for another altogether.

PS..this note is of 2026.Did find Chandrakant. Married twice. Lives in Hyd. And that's just about the contact.











महबूब

एक राजा था
एक रानी थी

राजा अपनी रानी का
रानी अपने राजा की

न ये राजा उस रानी का
न वो रानी इस राजा की

वो राजा है इस कहानी का
वो रानी थी अपनी कहानी की


Saturday, 30 April 2016

तुम सब हो मेरे पर फिर भी... नहीं












तुम मेरी आशाओं का मंज़र 
तुम नदिया का किनारा 
तुम मित्र मेरे प्रगाढ़ 
तुम मेरे हमनवां 
यह सब हो कर भी तुम 
न साया मेरा 
न मेरा हिस्सा 
हो मुझसे 
हो मुझमे 
पर होकर 
भी नहीं 
न मुझसे 
न मुझमे 
अपनी हमसफ़र 
मैं खुद 
अपनी रहगुज़र 
मैं खुद 
अपना साया 
मैं 
अपना आसरा 
मैं 
अपना मुस्तकबिल 
मैं 
अपनी परछाई 
मैं 
मैं सबला 
मैं चेतना अपनी 
मैं संवेदना अपनी 
न माँगूँ तुमसे 
एक  कतरा भी 
राहें जुडी हैं 
अलग भी हैं काफी 
मैं अपने में पूरी 
तुम खुद में ही पूरे 
हांलाकि दोनों 
हैं आधे अधूरे 
पर यह भी सही है 
सच भी है इसमें 
यह अधूरी कहानी 
पूरी सी है 
मैं खुद में खुश हूँ 
तुम अपने में 
 ऐसे ही अच्छे 
हम तुम अकेले 


तुम सब हो मेरे 
पर फिर भी... नहीं हो




Friday, 29 January 2016

किसको पड़ी है


तुम आ जाते हो रोज़
दोस्तों के बहाने
बचपन की कॉलेज की
टेंपररी दोस्ती  निभाने
वही पुराने कहकहे 
अटकलें लगाने 
लेकिन, कुछ कहूँ आज तुम्हें?
तुम आओ न आओ यार
किसको पड़ी है ?

अड़ जाते हो तुम
बेतुकी सी बातों पर
स्त्री और पुरुष के
उलझे से नातों पर
मनु की मनुवाद की
दक़ियानूसी बातों पर
कुछ कन्फ्यूसिंग इडिओटिक 
जज़्बातों पर 
लेकिन सच कहूँ यार
किसको पड़ी है ?

वो दोस्ती भी
तब थी अब नहीं है
और तुम और मैं
बिलकुल अजनबी हैं
तुम रेगिस्तन के राही
हम पथरीले कंटीले
और दुनियादारी के
बहुत हैं झमेले
अब दोस्ती भी रहने दो यार
मुझे तो बिलकुल नहीं पड़ी है!

Wednesday, 20 January 2016

Inspiration




Lay within me.... 
wonder why i chose to look elsewhere 

Restart ....

Where was I

i have been wondering... where was i
lost?
meandering?
or just plain socked by Inertia

well, now that i am trying to unravel the cobwebs from my mind.. i find i have lived.. lived a life beyond these pages, done a lot... changed a lot, made friends, lost some, survived, celebrated. 

but , the point is ... who cares. Who cares what i do with my life except the people who make it a point to be a part of my life. And well, they are the ones i care about. 

So, here i am, back to writing, what i do best, observing, mentoring, and challenging myself to newer goals. 

Visited my blog after ages, and realised how you give up one thing you love for another.... thing, person, place, time... after all, the spaces in your life as just about so much, finite . The opportunities are Infinite. 

But what do we do, we ignore the Infinite, and take care of the Finite. WHY?

The finite is there.... reality, you can see and feel and live it.... and seems more permanent. Atleast to our foolish minds. The Infinite.... is a dream, is something you think you Can... with a pause on the Can... and you ignore it till it can no longer be ignored. 

So now, all you finite meanderings and pauses in my life, here i go.. searching for my Infinite... 

Life has given me a new page to write on ... as this blog gives me each day. 





Monday, 14 May 2012

Speak Up!




















People ...gather the courage
To speak the truth.
Especially where it matters.
Other places, please keep quiet.
Sometimes.... it is better to know the truth
Than to be flummoxed by silence.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

शादी की सालगिरह


शादी की सालगिरह पर इस साल हमने कहा इनसे ..

चलो अबके शादी की सालगिरह मनाएं
फिर नए वर वधु की तरह
संग घूमें सजें इतराएँ
यह रुके कुछ सोच कहते हैं
अरी अब तो चल रहे इम्तेहान बच्चों के
क्यों न हम सालगिरह अगले हफ्ते मनाएं?
इश्क हम दोनों किसी और दिन फरमायें ?

उफ़ तौबा ये इनका
किसी और दिन का नज़ारा
बीत गए दिन, घंटे
और पूरे लम्बे साल १८
जवानी में हम अपनी जवानी पर न इतराए
इनके इंतज़ार में दिन महीने गंवाए
कल कर लेंगे, अभी ज़रा ज़िन्दगी बना लें
अपना आज ठीक है, कल संवार लें
यही सुनते सुनते अब बूढ़े हो चले हैं
बच्चों की चिंता में ,बाल झड चले हैं
छरहरा बदन, अब हो गया पहाड़ है 
और चेहरे पर छा रही  उम्र की झाड है. 
अब कौनसे कल का करें हम इंतज़ार
अधेड़ उम्र के भी रह गए दिन चार!!

अब कैसे हम अपने इनको समझाएं
ज़रा यह बात आप ही हमें समझाएं !!

Friday, 24 February 2012

Changes



I am happy that life keeps changing.
Making me unsure of its ways, and egging me on.
The inert person that I am
Life keeps me on my toes;
Pushing newer bars..
Yes, those ones too!

Saturday, 10 September 2011

Diary or Dairy?



My blog is becoming my Diary wherein all my thoughts are penned. Private or otherwise.
Or is it becoming my Dairy.. where I milk my brain and collect my bucolic ideas?

Monday, 5 September 2011

झूठ



न ही बोलें लोग तो अच्छा है
मीठा
न ही बोलें लोग तो अच्छा है
झूठ से
झूठमूठ की बनावटी मीठी बातों से
नफरत है हमें।

क्या छिपाना होता है,  जो झूठ का सहारा लेना पड़ता है?
झूठ के पाँव नहीं होते। 
और मुंह मे राम बगल मे छूरी .... अब बस !! 
और सहन कर सकते नहीं। 

Monday, 25 July 2011

Mourning



Do not mourn the dead... they live on within you.
Do not mourn the ones, who moved on in life.
Do not mourn the friends, who no longer are a part.
Revel in their being.
They may not come back.
But a part of them, now lives within you.

Notice



"यहाँ पर चापलूसों और घूसखोरों का आना मना  है"

मेरी टेबल के ऊपर लगा बोर्ड यह कहता है.


Thursday, 7 July 2011

Questions

I have this inherent knack to ask questions
For which
a) Answers are not forthcoming
b) Answers are not politically correct
c) Responder does not deem to respond.

When will i learn to keep my lips sealed?

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

The Missing Ed!



This friend of mine called Ed
Has disappeared and i see red
You see he had a hold on me
And kept me from all baloney
As he is gone.. i'm going mad
And you can see, a wee bit sad
He keeps me sane and happy
And not idiotic and flappy.
As he is gone i am all stuck
Have run out of writer's luck
I cannot rhyme, I cannot verse
I cannot sing a tune adverse
I think i can no longer write
In my tongue, for all my might

So dear Ed, wherever are you
Come back soon.. a poem's due
And let me write my verse in peace
And drum up my old expertise
Come back soon so i may write
And spare me this sorry plight!!
Oh yes  let this be said
His first name's Brain
The middle Heart.
Brain Heart Ed, that's all.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

Medical Kit & A Plumber's Tools



















Next time,  i decide to fall in love,
I am going to keep these with me.

God knows... i keep needing them with great regularity !

Thursday, 2 June 2011

बड़े होना

खा रहे थे हम दोनों
बर्फ मलाई
अरे वही... अपनी आइसक्रीम .. और क्या
खाते खाते .. कुछ शरारत थी सूझी
हमें भी और तुम्हें भी.
तुमने अपनी orange  बार
झाटक से मेरी स्कूल शर्ट में डाली
और भाग खड़ी हुईं.

और मैंने... अपनी orange बार
उठा तुम्हारी शर्ट पर लिखा- ११ 
वही,  तुम्हारा नंबर
स्कूल टीम की टीशर्ट पर जो था.
दोनों कि कमीजें
बचपन के रंग में
दोस्ती के रंग में
उस Orange बार के रंग में
रंग नारंगी हो गयीं.
और हम
भागते हुए..हँसते हँसते घर पहुंचे.

माँ ने एक नज़र हम पर डाली,
और एक शर्ट पर..
लगाई हुड़क कर डांट
उफ़ इतनी घोड़ी हो गयी हो..
बचपन गया ही नहीं...
माँ क्या कहूं...
आज भी वैसी हूँ...
बचपन इतना हसीं था
कि ज़हन से जाता ही नहीं..
कहीं छिप कर रहता है..
और बीच बीच में...
बिन बताये,
आ जाता है..
पल दो पल को..
झलक दिखला ...भाग खड़ा होता है.
फिर बता जाता है
कि शायद बदली तो हूँ
पर कहीं बदली नहीं हूँ
कभी-कभी अपना वो बचपन
अपने बच्चों के बचपन
में दिख जाता है...

कई बार सोचती हूँ मां..
कि क्या ज़रूरी था
बड़े होना!!
पर जीवन का दौर ऐसा
हाँ... शायद ज़रूरी था
बड़े होना.

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

चावल के दाने



चावल के दाने ...
सफ़ेद..
शायद खुदा ने.. मोती दे दिए
स्वाद भरे, सेहत भरे.

छिपे हुए मोती,
खुरदुरे से खाल में
जिसे छील छील
हाथों में छाले पड़ जाएँ
और .. बीनते बीनते..
उँगलियों में दरारें

पर क्या ही यथार्थ है
कि जिन हाथों को
यह मेहनत नसीब होती है
हमारे देश में ..
उन्हें ही इन दानों के लिए
और न जाने क्या क्या
पापड़ बेलने पड़ते हैं!!

और हाँ, पापड पर याद आया..
सूखी रोटी और मिर्च प्याज़ से
गुज़ारा करने वाले हाथ
पापड़ बनाते तो हैं
पर खा पाने का चाव
पता नहीं ... कब नसीब से नसीब में आये.

और कहते हैं.. देश तरक्की पर है..
कुछ कोने.. कुछ सडकें, कुछ घर
पर झोपड़ियाँ, खपरैल, खेत खलिहान
शायद वहीँ के वहीँ.... सूखे... दरारों वाले!
यह इस बढ़ते हुए देश की विडम्बना है.

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

Where was i? And Where am i ?




No clue. Seem to have lost myself. God Knows Where!
Still searching.
For anyone , who finds me, let me know.
Mind lost.
Thought meandering.
The being...grudgingly trudging. Plod....Plod....Plod!

AHH...now i remember. Summer's Here!! Grrr!!!