Detecting God

My phone ranged “hello”
The voice” hello how are you”
I can recognize the voice but was slightly confused so I said” who is it?”
The voice” ha ha ha”
Me:”Aryan?”
The voice” yes”
Me: "Whose no is this?”
Aryan:” Didi (elder sister) new no”
Me: "ok, when u coming?”
Aryan:”tomorrow”

Aryan is my nephew (my eldest sis son). He is studying in Bishop Cotton’s boarding, Shimla.
Sister and Brother-in-law expired last year leaving their kids Aryan(12yrs) and
Anouska(17 yrs) in this malicious world. It’s been tuff time since then.
Life took to a downslide which still continues. The nastiest segment continues,
some left us some unfaltered to come back again. My doors are opened for
anyone to enter and exit. Probably knowing that come what may &
what ever it takes I have to live and continue fighting, no matter what.
The purpose of this post was to tell u an interesting story about Aryan.
Once I asked him” what you want to become in Life?”
He said “ A detective”
I was flabbergasted and asked “why?”
He said: " grand pa & you say mom and dad has gone to God, so I want to be detective
and find out where he in fact lives”
I again was taken aback & asked ” But why”
Aryan: “ to ask why he(God) took my parents”

There was very less I could have said after that, so just hugged him.Its not
tuff time which breaks us but more than that approach of people around you.
Some decided to leave some joined and life moves on.
Life is strange, stranger are the ways of it, strangest are we so-called humans.

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Still living the dream in good and bad times..

A Night of celebration, what a beautiful night ! It was. I was there with my maternal aunt heading towards the reception stage, holding her lehnga from behind. So heavy it was , I wonder how she could manage wearing that. Even though it was Hindu marriage but felt as if it happens in Christian’s wedding, where the bridesmaid holds the wedding gown of bride from the behind.
It was reception of my newly wedded maternal uncle and aunt. Both were looking very cute, as if living their dream. It was a love marriage as my uncle being a Bengali and aunt being a Punjabi. It all was going well, with my aunt’s cousin sisters and brothers dancing on the dj floor on bhangra beats, my uncle and aunt on the stage meeting with guests, their college friends , colleagues and family friends. I was sitting beside my grand mom, taking care of her, as she is quite old and is suffering from diabetes. So she need to be taken care of , and I love doing that ,she is such a darling , tells me old childhood stories of mom and uncles , teaches me to be patient, calm…not jump like a naughty restless fellow every time. I do shake a bit on the dance floor holding my heavy lehnga, a bit of latka and jhatka’s were all needed to silence my sister who was dragging me to dance floor.

Reception was in Delhi’s C.r.park , I must tell you Delhi is such a big place , you may get lost if you don’t know the directions and the same happen with my uncle’s father-in-law, who got lost in the way , and my uncle had to guide him all the way ,as the call was getting disconnected in between it took long time for them to reach there. This made my uncle a bit angry . When my aunt’s family reached with smile sand blessing , everybody was happy and gay. It was nice meeting of two rich cultures – Bengali and Punjabi , it was a lively night, and I too had lots of fun, running behind my small brother who is real prankster, telling him not to roam here and there .
Reception ended up at 1 a.m. and after meeting all guests. I , my aunt , my uncle and one of uncle’s close friend started up for sweet home in Vasant kunj. Previously I wasn’t going up with my aunt, but still she insisted that she need my company so I went by , I wonder now it was fairly good idea, she must have sensed the upcoming trouble , dickey was full of gifts and a bit of alcohol as there going to be huge celebration back my uncle’s home along with friends. Slowly we moved to that highway , it was serene night , calm ,tranquil as it used to be before storm breaks.
Suddenly my uncle’s cell ringed. He got a call form his father-in-law , they lost their way again , my uncle went to the rescue and dropped them back to the guest house , while coming back he was very angry on the driver as he forgot the routes and was driving fast on the roads. I always used to head down while travelling, my mom used to scold me for being so lazy , I guess this time she will be praising my habit. Highway was clear , hardly I could see any living being in my vicinity. My aunt was continuously telling my uncle to drive slowly as he was full in rage. I was lying my head down as ususual.
Suddenly I heard a loud bang , cry of my uncle and aunt , I got up banged my forehead with the front seat, I screamed ‘mummy’ eyes was closed for 5-6 seconds , when I opened my eyes , I was shocked to see a truck in front of the car so close , front glass of car was shattered into pieces, the truck was still stick to the car for 10-12 seconds ,and then went by. The seat was all wet as one of the alcohol bottle broke down ,everywhere it was stinking , [I wonder how can people have such a stinking drink]
I could hardly believe my eyes it was a major car accident at 3 a.m. in a silent highway, my aunt , uncle and uncle’s friend got seriously injured on face they were crying with pain, I was taken back to see blood everywhere. Few minutes’ later , people started gathering around me.

I have to do something ,have to call ambulance urgently, tried searching cell phones of my uncle and his friend in their coat pockets, it was nowhere. Then I tried opening the door of the car out ,it got stuck. My uncle in driver seat was screaming like anything ,he was badly injured in face. Somehow I managed to open the door , remove my heels as show time was off , I could see lots of strangers around me , everybody asking me out what happened ,I was asking for a phone to call up my dad. Somehow a young boy came forward and offered his cell ,I just dialed my dad number [ it was the only number I used to remember by the tip of my tongue and that helped a lot] call was connected , ring going on. By the time seeing so many strangers around ,tears were rolling down my cheeks. My dad picked the call, before he could utter hello, I just started speaking without any speed breaker , telling him about the accident and asking to rush the place as soon as possible as I needed him badly, since I wasn’t aware of the highway I gave the phone to the stranger and asked him to help my dad out in getting the place, from there. I rushed back to see the front of the car in bare foot holding my lehnga , it was badly damaged. I tried pulling the door out so that I can help my uncle to move out as he was stucked inside and even my uncle friend was unconscious

Two mighty guys came and helped in pulling the door , took out my uncle and his friend and lay them down at the corner of the highway. Everyone was shouting the truck hit the car and ran away. I rushed back to my aunt , she was repenting in pain , here mouth and leg was fractured , she could hardly speak but was conscious enough to tell by actions that she needs help. I knew it would be hard enough for her with such a heavy lehnga to move about, moreover wearing all those heavy jewellery on her reception night made her vulnerable also , she was sacred to see strangers near by. I told her to be calm and patient , I would help her out , then I rushed to my uncle and uncle friends who was sitting down unconsciously on the roads with blood falling down form the face , I searched the pockets of their trousers, I found 2 cell phones, I hardly knew anyone in Delhi , only some of uncle’s friend .I tried searching their names. but just in few seconds it got switched off due to low battery , I was crying very loudly , then I took my uncle’s friend cell in my hand ,in spite of wasting time in searching any number, I ringed back to my dad [ wasn’t sure that stranger gave proper information to my dad] , bell was ringing , meanwhile I went to my aunt’s , consoling her not to worry I am calling for help and everything would be fine, I was small enough to hold such big thing, as I never encountered such a tragic accident in my life , but I guess life teaches everything in its own way, timely. Call get connected ,I was crying on the phone , telling my dad to come soon ,he assured me he will be there in 10 minutes , told me to calm down and be there with aunt, uncle and take care of them.
I guess someone called the ambulance, but then a big dilemma came along with it , it could only occupy 2 persons, and they were 3 injured , can’t afford to leave anyone, I was stuck badly what to do ? But, I have to take an urgent decision. I rushed back to my uncle and his friend , told him not to worry, not to scream I am taking them hospital soon. I could see police jeep approaching the place , they told to sit in the jeep it would accommodate all the three people . Meanwhile my uncle’s friends came and they helped me to put them all in the jeep, and told me to reach nearest hospital , and all are coming there soon. I was sitting beside my aunt’s , holding her hand ,telling not to worry , her leg will be fine, then I was telling the driver uncle to be a bit fast, as I couldn’t see my uncle and aunt crying more out of pain, we reached safdarjung hospital in 20 minutes.
I have always seen trauma centre’s in discovery channels , never thought I would part of it in such way , the moment we reached , nurses and ward boy came with the stretcher , took all the injured ones inside. Dad came in 2 minutes , I went towards him, and hugged him,cryng loudly ,he consoled me not to worry , everything will be fine , I did a brave job till now. I went inside the hospital ,I saw the cardiographer running ,my heart skipped a beat , I always seen it on television serial , the reality had different feeling and definition . I was feeling the Goosebumps. Doctors were all crowded near my uncle ,who was injured badly and to large extent very much . Dad asked me out the whole incident , I told him patiently , but still tears were running down . I wanted everything to rewind, I wanted everyone to be happy , they are newly married couple , it was just beginning of their married life .I don’t want it to start with such a tragic accident , was feeling bad.
My aunt never been to hospital all her life, she was scared of injections. This time it was a tour of 6 months I guess, her left leg was suffering from multiple fractures and jaws as well. My aunt’s father , mother , sister rushed to hospital when they got the news. They were crying a lot. I told them not to worry as now they r safe in doctor hands. Whole night went by in the hospital waiting for doctor to tell the reports of all the scans , tell the status of the injury, uncle’s friend got a nose fracture and left ear was injured badly , uncle got serious facial injury , nerves around they eye were also injured , need an immediate operations. Safadrjung being a government hospital running short of facilities so my uncle’s friend shifted them to good private hospital famous for trauma centres. Police found the truck also after few hours and case was filed so. What happened that night is still a mystery for me , as I was lying my head down so I didn’t knew how it happen, as I fly back to Bangalore for my internal exams . I could never open that case again as it hurts more like a wound.

5 months down the line ,my uncle’s friend has recovered fast and is now fine, my aunt leg is healing a bit. She walk with a stick to give a bit of support, her jaw fracture is healed up . My uncle is badly injured in the nose and face, he is still recovering , recently done a surgery on the nose fixing the bone. When I still talk to them , they sound so happy and gay ,as if nothing happened , still living the dream of being with each other in all good times and bad times…

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A farewell to alms?

Flowers, pirated books, stationary and what not. The les misérables you encounter at every traffic signal vie for your attention and money

Not very long back my brother Rahul , a student of IIT Delhi was crossing the flyover near his college. As he halted at the traffic signal, a woman in tattered state approached him with a prescription of what she called her daughter’s. "I usually don’t entertain beggars but the old woman looked so hassled that I couldn’t but give her Rs 20," shares Rahul. The woman asked for more so the good Samaritan ended up giving her Rs 80. Feeling happy that he had helped somebody in need. Few days later, he met the same woman under the Moolchand flyover and this time she said, she was pregnant. Rahul was obviously taken aback.Everyday hundreds of people fall prey to such emotional blackmail at the hands of seemingly ill and needful. While some of them discover how they have been fooled, the others console themselves with the fact that at least they are still sensitive to the needs of les misérables. What makes this happen is the fact that a lot of times, this sham is easily detectable, filling people with disgust. As a result, even the genuinely needy are tarred by the same brush. A lot of people tend to lecture the beggars by saying mehnat mazdoori karo but how many still buy books, et al from those selling it at the signals. Even they are trying to earn their living.The only option for them then is to cash in on the sympathy of the people than work hard. Ultimately they have to extract money from by hook or by crook. But then when one hears of beggar gangs operating in the city, one doesn’t feel like trusting them. But again, how much can one harden oneself when one sees little kids moving their flexible bodies in tandem to dhol. One can’t resist a smile and there goes Rs 10 note. While South Delhiites are not insensitive to the needs of those who are reduced to such social-physical conditions; they are not really obliged to put up with such ’inconveniences’. The question then remains for the likes of Rahulwhether to help or not to help…

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She has such flair!

By :Nidhi Mishra

When I met Ami Shroff in Goa, I was inspired to leave journalism and become a bartender. Not a bad idea, considering I would be only the fifth woman in India to take up the profession.
Ami, 22, defied societal prejudices when she joined UB Group as a beverage consultant last year. She can juggle wine bottles faster than one can twirl one’s feet. “It is all due to Physics,” she will tell you. This form of bartending using bottles, cocktail shakers and other bar equipment to entertain guests is known as ‘flair’.
“Flair on its own is an art and a sport. A certain style and lots of practice is required to flair an open liquor bottle. Not everybody who can juggle, can flair,” she explains.
Not trained in bartending, Ami picked up the skill while servicing at the bar counter. “I pretty much scavenged around the place, read up from the Internet and books, and tried out my own moves. Reading equipped me with knowledge of the different kinds of drinks and ingredients available,” she said.
She was fascinated by the film Cocktails while in school, but got introduced to the trade only in college when she saw a bartender flair live.
“My friend Delnaaz and I were both fascinated and wanted to learn this,” she says. She started freelancing with Enigma, five-star hotel JW Marriott’s bar cum discotheque in Mumbai, but did not immediately tell her parents.
She wanted to tell them gradually about her choice of profession, as it was perceived as something ‘different’. Highly sceptical in the beginning, they slowly realised that the profession had its own perks. “They saw the demand for me out there and the treatment I received from the organisers, who flew me down for shows, put me up in the best of hotels, and so on, and now they are cool with it,” she says. Today, she freelances and teaches at the Indian institute of Hotel Management, Catering Technology and Applied Nutrition College, Mumbai. The lady factor
With few girls opting for the profession, it is easier for girls to enter the industry but difficult to sustain and make a name, says Ami. Her work and achievement comes under greater scrutiny simply because she is a woman.
“People give more credit to the ‘lady factor’ and whatever you achieve gets questioned. It gets a little annoying after a while and you don’t even feel like defending yourself anymore. There are moments of frustration, but you learn to deal with it,” she says.
And with few women flairing, her work attracts more than its share of surprised looks. Ami, however, thwarts perceptions of female bartenders being at the receiving end of vulgar or rude behaviour at work. She says that with the presence of bouncers and other security, customers do not dare to misbehave with employees. But she has a few pointers for aspiring women bartenders wary of such instances: “Don’t dress provocatively or appear overtly friendly, and unpleasantness can be avoided as much as possible.”
On the upside, as far as the night scene goes, there is a great demand for female bartenders, who are preferred slightly more than a male simply because they are rare. “It’s not as if a girl can make a better drink but the mentality of the crowd is such. Ladies’ nights are held and drinks are served on the house so girls can just come and party. Similarly, a female behind the bar is also welcome. If a girl is serving you, it automatically makes the atmosphere that much more secure.”
Coming back to the question of why there are few girls willing to take up the profession, Ami says, “It is like the chicken and egg problem — is it the mentality or the men that keeps us away?”Remuneration
Asked whether the remuneration matches the excitement of the work, Ami replies, “The amount of money to be earned here is totally random.” A newcomer can expect anywhere between Rs 8,000 and Rs 15,000 in nightclubs and hotels, and one can grow in the profession to reach the level of a bar manager. Freelancing brings more money, but for that one should be able to market oneself well, she adds. Joining cruise liners, designing bars, becoming a consultant or opening a training centre are some of the other options for those in this career. Negotiation assumes importance as newcomers, especially girls, can seek a higher price due to greater demand.Popular choice?
According to Ami, the most popular drink last summer was Mojito. This mint-flavoured white rum drink with a lot of crushed ice, lime and brown sugar is a good, refreshing drink. She however finds that people mostly go for straight drinks and do not have much of a taste for cocktails. That is mainly because many bartenders do not know the classic way to make cocktails, she reckons. “I expect to have a Martini of the same taste wherever I go. It is like Hyderabadi biryani has to taste the same everywhere.” Her favourite drink
As a chef does not gorge on his pastries, so also a bartender does not feel the urge to drink after mixing hundreds of drinks a day, she says. But occasionally, Ami enjoys the Mud Slide, which is kahlua, Bailey’s and tonnes of cacao. It has poppy, Irish and chocolate flavours and “is like this amazing dessert drink.” Long Island Ice Tea comes a close second. As far as spirits go, “My favourite is whiskey, Bourbon and American, although I am developing a taste for Scotch too.” Inspiration
When French bartender Nicholas St John came to Goa, Ami found her inspiration. She loved his passion and philosophies on bartending and his fantastic approach to the profession.
“He is a legend in his own way, as he creates all his moves and can flair any object creatively. Initially, he used to study DVDs and do everything that they were not doing, thus evolving a unique style of his own. In India, we mostly copy flairs and are sceptical about trying new stuff,” she says.

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That silent night (FLASHBACK V)

It was raining like cats and dogs since evening . Sound of rain drops, hitting the roofs and ground won’t allow us to sleep or study. It seemed rain would engulf everything, it was tea time at 1; 00 a.m., me, Deepak and rohit were sitting together and drinking teas room was completely choked with cigarette smoke. We sat and talked as ghazals kept on playing one after the other.
“Its getting cooler because of rain” Rohit said puffing his cigarette in jaat style.
“Yes”- Deepak said turning on his assignment papers.
“Our lungs will be like burnt papers, the moment we will touch it will “fooo”- Rohit said
“Pandey jee reduce smoking no one will marry ash tray” Deepak said jokingly.
“Say something, why are you silent”- rohit said d putting his hand over my shoulder.
“Can you hear something”- I said to Deepak going near to window and opening it.
“Someone crying “as he too walked near the window
“Is it manoj?” I asked
“May be” Deepak said.
We went outside to Manoj room, knocked it, manoj opened it, and he was in tears.
“What happened” r u ok” I said
“Yes” manoj said wiping his tears
“Why r u crying?” Deepak asked
“Nothing just like that” Manoj replied
“Everything well at home” Rohit asked
“yes” Manoj answered as his voice choked
“Then what happened?” Deepak asked
“missing manoj?” I asked
“Yes” manoj said as he bursted into tears.
Rohit hugged him and we tried to console him. Manoj was finding it very hard to forget Manish as both were from same branch and had a very good family relationship and form same place hardoi in UP. So manoj missed him the most , we were still trying to came out of the shock , we were trying our level best, Slowly time will heal everything as papa says. “Time is the best healer” Thinking about Manish’s family always put me in very sad frame of mind. Life his miserable and his family must be in complete shock as his mother fainted that day. he was the only son and his sister was very sad and his sister was speechless don’t think they would ever come out of it. It’s literally impossible, his father was like his best friend and was in complete shock and was finding it very hard to digest the fact what happened to him. Manish is still alive will remain so in our heart and mind. May god help his family to come out of this deep grief? Let the god’s mercy prevail.

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Turbulent (FLASHBACK IV)

We Never missed Manufacturing Process class in third sem , the obvious reason being Prof. Moolchandani. That and fact that the class was at noon and we finally woked up by then. Prof. Moolchandani was different form the other , he was 20 years younger than the other profs. Not more than 35 , he usually wore t- shirts and jeans which displayed his US university logo. He had like 5 degrees from world’s top 5 universities- MIT , Corneel , Princeton , IIT etc. and he wore T-shirt form all of them. He usually caries Walkman along with him and put them on after the class get over. Senior told that professor Moolchandani was not supposed to be taking a full course so early However the professor he was assisting expired and he had to take full course .
“Hello everyone” Prof Moolchandani said , as he entered , he offered chewing gum to the first row students. The front row guys were all muggers and freaked out at the offer. They declined and he shrugged and popped a piece in his mouth and turned out to the board. “Turbulent Flows” he wrote on the capital letters on the board. “ Guys in the first five ;lectures , we studied simple flows called out laminar flows. The shape and direction of these flows are predictable with the help of formulas and equations . You know which equation right ?” He looked around for answers , unlike other professors he don’t stick to the front row students. In fact he scavenged at the back.
“Okay , I’m not asking this to studious kids of the front , its meant for the cool dudes of the back. Rohit and me were chronic back benchers , these were most defensive position for guys like us.
“Rohit , tell me which is first principle equation for laminar flows?”
“Sir , me” rohit surprised , that professor would know his name .
“Yes you , rohit. Iknow you know the answer”
“The Navier-strokes equation” Rohit said surprising himself.
“Right , you want to write it down for the class”
Rohit ran up the board and the front benchers in the front row smirked at a backbencher contributing to the class. Equation was right , rohit won’t go to the blackboard unless until he knew the equation was right.
Rohit came back and sat between me and ashok, hi sbody language suggesting as if he has conquered mount everest or has just landed on the earth after visit from moon.
“Perfect rohit , thanks , by the way was it you and avinash who wrote the impact of lubricant efficiency on bike fuel consumption in your last term paper” professor asked.
“Yes sir, Me and avinash id that , not accurately though” Rohit said proudly.
“I liked that , by the way what went wrong in the project avinash” Prof asked , turning his eyes towards me.
“The heat generated by the piston and crank was too high to be resisted by the lubricant with low octave levels , sir” I explained .
“So, why you didn’t tried lubricant with high octave level?” Prof . asked
“we tried , but hydrocarbon also increased putting extra pressure on the exhaustive valve.” I answered.
“How about removing same sloth to reduce pressure on exhaustive valve. And probably increasing the efficiency of engine”- professor asked.
“Sir , but that would produce lots of sounds”- I said.
“Why we can’t try the synthetic muffler in spite of the Iron ore” prof said
“Yes sir” I got my answer
“So you can do it now” Prof said
“Yes sir” I said
“Try it out” Prof said.
“sure sir” said.

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All for friends & love!(Flashback III)

Flash back in to second year of B.Tech in IITR, like most campus ours was also buzzing one and lots of things happened other than studies. No campus is complete without Love triangles, Quadrilaterals,Pentagons(yes, sometimes it has many angles and picture gets confusing). So we had one in 2nd year. Here just writing it after reading my old college diary
It was very chilly evening, since it was foggy all day, night was very cold. I was sitting in my hostel room studying machine design with my doors’ opened as I know Rohit will drop down anytime to make tea and cigarettes. He came at 9:00 pm, but not for tea

I never saw rohit so serious, he came sat on my bed and didn’t uttered a single word. I broke the deadly silence and asked if everything is OK. He still he did not replied,
When I asked again he said “I need to talk with you” I wasn’t expecting Rohit to be this serious.
Finally I asked “what”?
He questioned back “do I have liking for payal” [only good looking girl in our branch],
I answered “ no”.
He said that he heard it from someone that she likes me.
I told him “ I’m not sure , she is just my friend”.
Rohit was very eager to get clear answer, so he fished back into his question bank again and asked “ what about the rumours among branch mates.
I retaliated back “either you trust me or rest”.
Rohit said “I trust you, if you like her , than we are competitors”.
I cleared it back “sorry , but I’m not competing.
Rohit popped up with his usual cut paste idea , where he wanted my initiation. [As he did in assignments, but his time it was a serious case] he asked me to clarify it to payal that she is just my friend.
I said amicably “ yes anytime” , lighting a cigarette.
Rohit confirming: “so tomorrow ? “
I assured: “Ya”

Ashok entered room with ‘bidi’ in his hand&asking for match box, he was very surprised to see Rohit serious
Ashok enquired ”What happened?”.
I articulated the whole story to Ashok in very brief and he said Payal is very fond of me and stressed on rohit that he should improve his studies to impress payal .We all agreed with him , I t was finally decided that I would ask payal to meet after the classes next day and rohit would join after some time to carry it further.
Next day I asked payal to meet at Cafeteria after practicals at 6 p.m. she just nod her head. I reached cafeteria at 6:05 p.m. and found her in her yellow suit looking good as ever.
She asked “if everything was fine”
I answered “yes”.
But she knew something was fishy , so she again enquired if everything is OK. I finally broke the silence and asked her what she thinks about me ,
She said instantly that I’m her good friend , a very good friend.
I asked her again “ is that all”
Payal questioned back “what you wanna listen?”
I replied “ nothing”.
Payal asked again “ r u ok?”
I said her “ you know rohit likes you”
Payal said” this must be a joke” .
I replied firmly “ no , I’m serious”
Payal than replied seriously “ Come-on , we are here for studies , aren’t we?” , she must have thought that I have got deviated , but she didn’t knew I was just in a initiation process[only difference was that I was doing things practical this time for rohit].

I answered her “ yes “
Payal enquired back “ what went wrong” and then I showed her inside view of rohit’s imagination about me and her onto something which might ruin our friendship . Payal retaliated back saying that “ he is mad , but you are not”, then I concluded the whole conversation saying that “rohit wants to meet you” I have always been concise in my talks , I never gave any explanations for something , which I never believed in and payal knew this , later she answered that she don’t want to meet rohit.
I requested her again “ please if you can”, as I saw seriousness in rohit eyes [he was never so much serious before in time of semester exams also. It seems that it’s a do or die situation for him , and wanted to put things in right places for him ]
Payal than replied back “ ok , but that’s because you are saying”
I smiled back and said “ thanks”
Payal , then said “ Shall I leave” ,
I questioned back again “ what about rohit?” ,
She asked “ what?”
then I stressed on “ he wants to meet you now”
Payal enquired “ now?”
I said “yes” .
Payal told in a outspoken manner “ your are all too much , ask him to study so that he can improve his CGPA” I answered “ you should tell him that “ [ as I know that it would be more effective ] Rohit dropped in after 45 minutes and I excused myself saying that I have some work in library. I knew rohit would take care of this after my departure.
I didn’t knew what happened and what they talked after I left . But rohit came at night in my room and hugged me , he was very excited. I knew things have fallen into right place,
Still I enquired “how things went” as I wanted to see twinkle in his eyes.
Rohit answered “ all well “
I asked back “ what ?“ ,
Rohit replied “ She said you are just good pal” .
I confirmed back “ you are happy because of that “ .
Rohit said “ yes ,because that clears my way “ .
I smiled back and said “ good”.

Ashok was listening and finally broke his silence.
And said “ do your studies Rohit, don’t concentrate on all these things”
Rohit nodded and said “I will “and we all celebrated by smoking few puffs.
Rohit & Payal are married for three years and happily so, they have baby girl who is sweet as angel. Well they are best pals of mine & always stood by me. God bless both of them and sweet angel Ria.

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Honeymoon went by (FLASHBACK II)

It was a chilly morning, woke up at 5:00 am and as usual mummy woke before me; she never requisite alarm all her life. It was time to go back to college after a untailored leave as spring semester was about to start from Jan 4th. Mummy was in kitchen preparing something for me that won’t last for more than 48 hours in hostel.

Anyway , I just took bath and tea with mummy , took some breakfast , it was 5;30 am by then , it was time to leave home , papa was as usual wont say anything and was watching TV and performing puja { I don’t know why he performed puja when he didn’t had any desire } anyway , I just took his blessing by touching his feet and as usual he didn’t uttered a word and I don’t need to reveal that he wont came to see me off . Mummy would as always.
By the time we reached station , it was 6;10 a.m. , mummy was somehow holding her tears , train was 45 minutes late , we utilized that time talking about everything other than that she would cry after I leave . she was still holding her tears a hiding her emotions, I knew she would explode into tears sometimes or other very soon because she was mother. Finally train arrived at 7; o5 a.m. by then I joined by two friends from Jamshedpur, Manish and Manoj, We occupied out berth and train was about to start mummy broke down into tears. As if I was going to border and not in IIT. That left me ascend throat and I just hugged her and she kissed me on my forehead, with her face full of tears. She was just kept on wiping her tears as long as I can see her that the way she is and she thought I was very strong but she knew I would also cry after reaching the hostel.

Train started and I could see mummy wiping her tears at the same time. after few second she vanished into the crowd but for my eye, she would always there in my mind, always smiling a supporting no matter what the circumstances are. After train started, all three of us were in ‘Missing home ‘mood but after sometime we settled down. Train reached Delhi at 7; 00 a.m. next morning and we went to ISBT in take bus for roorkee, we reached at 11:30 a.m. It needs some day to settle down in college life after king’s life at home .Sooner we settled better it was for us and our studies. Results were out on someday, as new semester would begin very next day; result was which was 2nd in my branch.

Immediately I informed mummy , she was very happy , she would have been very happy that I scored 8.6 CGPA , pap a wont be happy as I scored 0.2% less than last semester , he wanted me to be next Einstein but he didn’t knew Einstein was born once in several centuries and I was not one of them.

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Why? (FLASHBACK I)

His fair face was all black with white foam coming out of his mouth, clad in his black t shirt, which his mother gifted him on his last birthday. He was hanging form his ceiling fan, book still open on his desk, light was still on; his sleeper was still under his table waiting to put its owner's feet on it, not knowing Manish will never put his feet on it. We will never be able to hear his loud laugh which made everyone smile. Campus will never see again the strongly built and electronic project master anymore. Manish ended his life two days back leaving us in deep sorrow.
It was a day after results were announced, some were happy, other just satisfied, other were just low. Manish Mishra of E& T scored 6.5 CGPA was lowest in his branch, not wasn’t lowest enough to end his life. I t was rainy after noon, when we get back after new education year, and we were tired. Manish door remained closed all day, we thought he isn’t well. And was taking rest. Some of his branch mate tried to woke him up in the morning, but when Manish didn’t opened the door, they left for the class but later in afternoon , when door was still closed his branch mates started knocking the door continuously . As I was in adjoining room of Manish, I also woked up
“What happened” why you are all banging the door “I said.
”Manish isn't opening his door “- Manoj said.
”He must be sleeping” I said.
"He didn’t attend his classes" Nagesh said.
"For how long he would sleep"Raj added.
“Is it so? He didn’t attend his class " I said.
”No he didn't "- Manoj said, his voice chocked in his throat.

We desperately tried to open his door and then we realized we should inform warden. “Shall we call Jain sir (warden) Deepak said?” "yes” - Raj said and rushed to the ground floor.

Jain sir came and saw the locked room and knocked onto it. Then he left, when he came back Dean of student affair and director along with local police were along with them. Police broke the door and our worst fear came true, Manish was found hanging. Deepak and Manoj screamed and cried we all did. Police recovered suicide note from his pocket which said he ended his life because of poor results and no one was responsible for it and also said sorry to his parents and younger sister. There parents were informed by police on behalf of college. Police took the body for post mortem.
Life and god has strange way of realizing that lots of things don’t lie in our hands. The whole campus was completely shocked and in complete grief after the news spread. After the police department, we were standing here and there, some were in the balcony, some were in my room, and there were 100 of students standing in the same floor. There was a pin drop silence in the hostel, Manoj cried a lot that day, it wasn’t sinking that Manish is no more. Even now also I can’t hold my pen as my hands are shivering.
When Manish mother came, she wasn't crying, she had blank expression on her face, his father cried and looked lost and shocked, Manish sister Jyoti couldn't hold her tears. His mother fainter and was rushed to hospital. They performed the last rites in Haridwar. We lost a friend, it will take some time for all of us to realise Mainish is no more.
AFTERMATH: For some reason, the hostel was in complete silence for a complete day or so. , we couldn’t concentrate on our studies, for that matter anything. There wasn't any buzz in the mess, coffee house or in playground. We tried our best to divert our mind form what happened two weeks back, but failed miserably. Manoj would just keep quiet and preferred to remain lonely all the time ., Rohit wouldn’t talk to anyone, Raj would just sit in the balcony most part of the night , so could smoker all night, Vivek wouldn’t have his meals ,and attend classes regularly ,despite several warning from DOSA, All his jokes were missing . Hostel warden wouldn’t say anything to us, and would come to hostel every night to ask us about our well being,
Everything changed after Manish left us, for all of us he is still alive in our heart, thought and mind, I just sat and
Thought is 6.5.CGPA is that bad percentage that Manish ended his life. Why he did like this? He could have talked with us, parents. what made him do this , there was millions of questions which penetrated everyone’s mind, leaving us more confused and clueless, we never came to knew what happened that night , he was mentally very strong and his parents were supportive and never demanded high percentage form Manish. His sister is a sweet one and cared for Manish a lot. his father was like his friend and I knew his family since class VIII, I grew up playing cricket and volleyball, discussing moths and physics, flying kites in summer vacations. It was very difficult for me to digest that incident , How can life be so cruel to someone like Manish, why I god did like this , more I think , more I think moor eye get sad and depressed.
Life is strange, stranger are the ways of it ....... strangest is god’s ways to realise it.

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Studying Idiot Bosses

-Puja's Point

After studying Idiot Bosses for nearly two decades (2 yrs mine + 18 years of my boss), I finally understand why females in certain species eat their young. The experience of working for an Idiot Boss is so universal and the feelings of frustration so widespread that the mere mention of this book title resonates throughout the human race. It does not resonate, however, with Idiot Bosses (code name: ‘I-Bosses’), not because they take exception to the name-calling and innuendo, I-Bosses just don’t get it—any of it.
I once failed miserably trying to market a seminar titled, ‘How to Manage People who are Smarter, More Talented, and Productive than You Are’. My mistake was advertising to Idiot Bosses that needed the seminar. If I had advertised to people who could anonymously enroll and send their Idiot Bosses, I’d be a multimillionaire. How to Work for an Idiot might not be a seminar to which bosses will eagerly send their employees, but as a book, the potential audience of highly motivated revenge seekers is huge and as ubiquitous as toilet paper.
Okay, toilet paper is not technically ubiquitous; not in the same way as, say, oxygen. There is a large segment of the world’s population with little or no access to toilet paper. However, I really don’t expect those with little or no access to toilet paper to go online and order this book. On the other hand, if each person on earth who does have access to toilet paper buys a copy of this book, I might earn enough royalties to pay off my student loans.
Speaking of eternity, on the seventh day, God relaxed and thought back over the productive week He had just completed. Suddenly remembering that He forgot to fix the Idiot Boss malfunction, God winced and said, “oops.” Not feeling the problem was annoying enough to create an eight-day week, God let the idiot thing slide, and the rest is history. Then again, God doesn’t have to work for an idiot.
Idiot Bosses are the mutant hiccups of organizational evolution, with cockroach-like immunity to calamities that wipe out truly talented and creative people. Although idiots are barnacles on the ship of executive survival, they can nonetheless serve valuable functions—as long as they’re not in charge. The bad news is they usually are in charge. The good news is talented and dedicated people can rise above the situation and thrive in spite of their I-Bosses. If How to Work for an Idiot doesn’t provide you with the knowledge and awareness to deal with this vertical mobility challenge, it might at least keep you from going postal.
Nearly everyone now works or has worked for an I-Boss. Despite the liberties this book takes with archetypal Idiot Bosses in the tradition of Dagwood’s Mr. Dithers or Dilbert’s despicable department head, it also suggests some methods and techniques to help you suffer fools in positions of power more kindly. You’ll encounter pearls of wisdom in the pages ahead. But, at times, you’ll need to follow a herd of swine to find them.
Isn’t that how real life works? I’ll lead you through many of my own experiences so the truths will be revealed in the appropriate context. You’ll learn to reflect on your own life experiences and, in doing so, potentially make your relationship with idiots tolerable and even productive. You’ll begin by activating and enlarging your empathic capacity; thus rendering Idiot Bosses powerless to increase hostility, blood pressure, or the likelihood of homicide. I-Bosses only have as much power over your mood you allow them to have.
For most, the terms empathy and idiot don’t often appear in the same thought. But, what has resentment done for you lately? Resentment causes your heart to shrivel and your veins, arteries, and capillaries to harden. While all that’s happening to you, your I-Boss’s heart is merrily pumping away, forcing oxygenated blood though veins, arteries, and capillaries as wide open and free flowing as a Mumbai freeway at three o’clock on a Sunday morning.
By sharing some of my good and not-so-good life experiences and inviting you to reflect on your own memorable and forgettable experiences, you’ll begin to see how your I-Boss came to aggravate you so much. How aggravated we allow ourselves to become is more about our own attitudes than the external persons or circumstances committing the alleged aggravating. The key to surviving and thriving without killing your boss (as the book jacket suggests) is to take control over the only thing you have control over—your emotional response to the things other people say and do as well as things that go bump in the universe.
‘How to Work for an Idiot’ is as irreverent as it is therapeutic, as satirical as it is sensible, as lighthearted as it is heartfelt, and treats the classic hierarchical management model with all of the dignity and respect it deserves in a progressive private sector—none. Chapters like idiotspeak and idioteat are replete with tales of bungling and stumbling attempts at leadership; mostly my bungling and stumbling attempts at leadership.
If I can help you become more comfortable with your frail and imperfect humanity, I’ve helped launch you on a path toward a serene and comfortable coexistence with the idiots in your personal and professional lives. With empathy comes increased tolerance, patience, and a sense of peace. Facing truths about our own flirtations with stupidity can sometimes be difficult. That’s why I’ve chosen to lace this book with wall-to-wall humor. If a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, a barrel of laughs can wash down the big pills you might need to swallow. I’ve had a bitter pill of self-aggrandizement lodged in my throat for years. I gag on it to this day if I eat too fast.
There is no guarantee my anecdotal approach to surviving and thriving despite your Idiot Boss will make you taller, better looking, increase your intelligence, or lose weight. I do guarantee that I write from a position of authority on the subject. More accurately, a recovering idiot. The operative word (in case you didn’t notice) is recovery. Once an idiot, always an idiot.
There is an enormous difference between an active idiot and a recovering idiot. An active idiot isn’t aware of his condition and the affect he has on others. In that state of ignorance, active idiots aren’t doing anything intentional to change. Recovering idiots are actively engaged in improving their awareness of what makes them tick and how their thoughts, words, and actions affect others.
Active idiots carry their dysfunction into positions of leadership and remain oblivious to the havoc they wreak. Recovering idiots carry hope and ever-expanding awareness wherever they go, including positions of leadership. Recovering idiots are not perfect. We never will be. But, we’re working on it. Wouldn’t you like to hear your I-boss say that?
My father was an extremely smart man with a very high I.Q. Yet, whenever he’d goof something up, he would mutter under his breath, “idiot.” It runs in the family. And I should have picked up on the hint long before I did. I shutter to think back on the aggravation I caused myself and others before I figured it out. But, that’s water under the bridge. Now, my checkered past is the spine of this story and a guide for your journey to idiot-immunity. Buckle up.
The chapters ahead contain a rare glimpse at the inner workings of the idiot mind and reveal why the term ‘inner workings’ is truly an oxymoron. For over a decade, I’ve written books on leadership, creativity, and organizational performance. I’ve traveled far and wide extolling the virtues of flattened organizations, collaborative leadership, and shared responsibility in the workplace. My clients welcomed me and nodded approvingly as I taught the principles of empowerment, teamwork, and open communication. They politely waited until I finished and left the building before ignoring my advice.
How to Work for an Idiot was supposed to be my revenge. But, accepting my personal powerlessness over stupidity and that my life had become unmanageable, I found in my 12-step program for recovering idiots a roadmap leading from the brink of suicide to idiot-free serenity. I invite you to join me as I journal my recovery. But first, a Legal Disclaimer:
Reading this book in a meeting when you are supposed to be paying attention is not recommended as laughing out loud can be grounds for termination. (You might be laughing at yourself, but your I-Boss won’t know the difference.) Reading this book during church sermons, funerals, or commencement speeches is not recommended if you ever want your spouse or children to speak to you again. Use caution when reading this book on an airplane. Many pilots now carry weapons. If you’re lucky enough to not get shot, you might be ushered off the aircraft by local authorities and placed on 72-hour watch at a psychiatric facility in your destination city.
Do not leave ‘How to Work for an Idiot’ lying around the office unless it’s on your worst enemy’s desk. If you ever thought the only way to survive an Idiot Boss was to medicate yourself, quit your job, or grind up your medication and lace your I-Boss’s coffee, ‘How to Work for an Idiot’ offers hope for your spirit, strategy for your mind, and a money-back guarantee when and if Bill Gates ever files for personal bankruptcy.

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Is your boss an idiot?

-Puja's point

CNN Money is running an article , "Is your boss an idiot?" They include several examples of employer idiocy, like this one:
"So, why are you the boss?" That was surely on the minds of staffers at one Web start-up when they attended a meeting held to introduce the new chief technology officer. According to one former staffer, the CTO had zero Internet experience, a fact made all too apparent when he walked into the meeting carrying the book, "Building a Web Site for Dummies."
Unfortunately, I had a boss like that once.
I had a job working for a web consulting company. It was a dream job in the sense that I got to live in Mumbai. And also in the sense that nightmares are dreams too.
My boss, the "PDG" of the company (he owned the company and was its president), decided he wanted to start an American-style web consulting company. By American-style he seemed to mean that it should be pro-customer: do what it takes to make them happy. As opposed to the stereotypical French tendency of being indifferent to their customers' needs. (I love the French dearly, but we all know - French people included - that this attitude has historically manifested itself in many French businesses. Of course, Americans know that it has also manifested itself in many American businesses as well, but that reality never seemed to enter into my boss's thinking. Which is hardly surprising since many other realities also evaded his consideration.)
When he'd offered me the job initially I thought it was because of my talents as a webmaster. After I got there though he let it be known that he hired me because I was an American, and a female one at that. As if my demographic qualities were going to magically elevate the quality of his company's product. I don't think I'm being too bold to say that his company's product would have been better improved if instead of trying to employ some sort of aura I was supposedly exuding he'd actually tapped into my experience in building websites. Especially since (as I found out way too late) he apparently didn't have a clue about how to do it himself.
Now, he did have a couple of employees, myself included, who were good at it. But we weren't there for the sales calls when he promised customers things that were at best ill-advised and more often completely impossible. I'd sit at my desk and try wring out every drop of my existential essence but it was of no use. My feminine wiles may be good, but let's just say that if they were able to make Internet Explorer and Netscape compatible they would have done so long ago.
(Of course, my boss was practically a savant compared to the director of sales who wasn't even computer literate. There weren't enough computers in the office so when I was at lunch he'd use mine. The hazard this posed stemmed from him not knowing the difference between minimizing a window, and closing it. As if working digital alchemy wasn't trying enough, having to start over halfway through the day didn't make things any easier.)
So every day, against my better judgment, but per his instructions, I built crap. Which naturally the customers ended up hating. Which NATURALLY was my fault. It was a train wreck. It got to the point where I could see the train coming, but I couldn't figure out how to jump off the track in time to not get flattened. Perhaps if I'd been able to employ any professional discretion I could have actually helped the situation, built a decent and appropriate web site, and pleased the client. But when I tried doing so, he reminded me that I wasn't hired for that. Which is ironic since all my American instincts, which supposedly he did hire me for, told me that the best way to keep a customer happy was to not give them garbage.
Eventually I managed to extricate myself from this mess, which was hard because I was in a foreign country and pretty much dependent on him for everything. And I had significantly underestimated how big of an ass he was. He'd orally promised me a dozen or so times that he'd pay to ship my belongings back to the U.S. when I left his employ, but when I asked him if he could put that in writing he became furious. "How DARE you not trust me!" he bellowed (in English). Then, raising his arm and pointing to my office, he ordered me, "Get back to work!" Which is sort of amusing in retrospect because when I did leave (soon after, duh) he stiffed me.
So the moral of the story is that if your boss seems to be an idiot, it's probably not his only personality flaw.

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How my school syllabus made me hate poets

-Puja's point

I am not a huge fan of poems, but i can appreciate a simple one. And Im sure Ill not be writing one this life time. Till class 4 the poems were ok. I had enough knowledge to read them and understand atleast 50% of the whole stuff. But from 5th class onwards poems started to become nightmares.
All those so called big poets, with their sanskrit mixed ’superior’ language poems were too hard to digest. There were poems which I couldnt read completely on my own. Some, even though I can read, didnt even have a clue as to what the context of the poem is. I remember a poem by the famous “Ezhuthachan” in the 8th STD english text book, it was so horrible that I used to call the writer bad names for having written it.
After 10 years of education and experiences with these horrible poems I still cant write 4 lines of poetry. Is it the failure of the education system. ?
When I used to talk about this to my friends, some used to say that its my problem that I cant write poetry. It may be my problem, but can 5% of the students write poems on their own even after 10 years of education. ? Whats the use of teaching something that is not useful for atleast 5% of the students.
I can enjoy folk songs, they are simple, and wont need a dictionary to read and understand. You need not be a scholar to write one. But the syllabus didnt contain those. All that I learned is complicated sanskrit poems, and the result is that I hate all the “Mahakavis”
I hope one day the syllabus will change to a much simpler one and everyone passing out schools will be able to write atleast 4 lines of simple poetry.

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Yet again....

I repeatedly suffer from mood swings, at times its too frequent resulting in irritation and brawl with people around me. At times, some endure it but even close one capitulate. Some completely fail to comprehend. I heard some where that cancerians (Zodiac sign not disease, I am healthy enough) suffer from mood swings but this is a complete silly excuse as I don’t trust in stars and horoscopes. So I can say it depends on our nature (point is to find yours own) and also in our nurturing. I was like un-disputed king of house so most of the desires were just needed to be conveyed to mom or sister (excluding dad here as I considered him modern Hitler when it comes to full filling wishes), also I am youngest in the family so I'm like the most pampered and loved by every one, point I am trying to prove here is mood swing also may depend on our status in family and friends as expectancy level may vary accordingly. Because we expect and know at times that if we get angry there is always some one to take care of it all the time. Might be I am wrong when I said all these but like always every one will have opinion so I have mine. Just writing some thing on mood swing which I analyzed by reading and researching on people (1st myself) around me. It also leads to insomania but thats not the only reason for insomania, there are lot many.

What are Mood Swings?
A mood swing is an extreme or rapid change in mood. They are commonly associated with mood disorders Mood swings are characterized by a drastic change in emotion from one side of the spectrum to the other. If one moment someone is contentedly going about their daily tasks, and the next moment is suddenly upset, irritated or downright hostile, they may suffer from mood swings.
It is completely normal to experience the wide range of negative emotions like anger, irritability, tearfulness and sadness that affect us all from time to time. But when out of control mood swings start to affect our ability to function properly in jobs or personal relationships, they become an issue worth addressing.
Diagnosing Mood Swings
Diagnosing mood swings involves a specialist taking account for your feelings throughout an average day. One way might be to chart your moods over the course of a week. If you experience erratic changes in your emotions or mood swings, it can help to see what set your mood swings off. This can often inform the method of treatment chosen to remedy them.
What Causes Mood Swings?
Violent mood swings can be caused by a number of different conditions and complaints. Sometimes fluctuating moods are simply our reaction to daily aggravators and certain situations, but most of the time mood swings suggest that something is out of balance or physically wrong.
No fun for anyone!
Mood swings and irritability are closely related. We use “mood swing” to describe a reaction that isn’t appropriate to what triggered it. “Irritability” to most of us means an angry or impatient reaction to something that happens.
What causes mood swings and irritability? In both cases, the physiology is based on hormonal imbalance. The underlying cause may be fatigue — and if you’re having hot flashes or insomnia, you are very fatigued! But it can also be the sudden shifts in hormonal balance so characteristic of per menopause, especially when your body doesn’t have enough support to maintain its natural balance. Mood swings and irritability have an emotional aspect as well. Per menopause is a time when many women find their true voices. That’s a good and natural process. You may note the resurfacing of old emotional issues that remain unresolved. This work is important, not just to relieve your mood swings, but for your very health. Women often come to us saying, “I thought I was losing my mind!” because they’re shocked by their mood swings and irritability. For them it’s a relief to know that their moods have a physical basis and can be relieved. There’s usually nothing wrong with you that you can’t fix by taking better care of yourself. We’ve been very successful in our Personal Program in helping women find relief from their mood swings and irritability. Even severe mood swings can be alleviated by providing your body with the support it needs to achieve hormonal balance.

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When going gets tuf...

When things don’t fall in places we tend to name it destiny. Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.”
Last 3 months or so has been such torrid time with me when not a single thing has fallen in its place, and its just getting shoddier with every ephemeral day, to day is another day when i couldn’t sleep all night. When things go accordingly we just think we are king & nothing can shatter us but God has his own way of making his occurrence felt. Now going though worst phase of life, it’s like hell out here. Its not the bad times or the financial crisis which makes us feel abandoned, neglected & ignored, it has more to do with so called near and dear ones approach towards us in the bad times. I steadfastly believe when some one is in trouble we as humans should try to motivate, provide support (in whatever way we can), persuade to live and move on. But very forlornly in my case i was brought down to my knees, its like when I was swimming every one climbed on my shoulders and when i am sinking they just putting their feet on me so that i can sink sooner than later. having said that i expect a lot from my near ones and believe me its serious hitch in any human's nature but at the same time we all are humans and tend to get back in whatever way we can, as we gave our best. But right now its like " Avinash you in predicament, you stay unaided".
Things would have been nice if it defunct here itself but then comes the most horrible part interrogation, questioning, mistrust ...I am constantly put under scanner. now the situation is such I prefer enduring silent as an alternative of elucidation things and expecting, which is completely contradictory to my nature, but as more I give explanation more things get convoluted, I was and still taken for Granted but couldn’t take any one for granted. But then at times, we are not left with too many options. Some will have a preference leaving you alone even though they know million words from rest and one word from them is more touching. If I am not applauding my self then I would say I am a very close analyzer, I can analyze things from both micro & macro level, so at times it bad as it gives me clearer picture and clear picture is not time and again pleasing. Having said expecting a moral or for that matter any kind of support is human, but its still worst part of nay relationship, if I can stop expecting, I can really be something in my life or at least come out of this agony, but then it would be Avinash- The Saint
BUT its completely wrong to blame some one else for your troubles, it has lot to do with your self, I usually go to my excessive when it comes to expressing love, anger, any emotions, helping some one, I mean whatever human proceedings are there I just go to peak and according to my mom this the worst part and as she said once to me that is reason why when you don’t get back all that you have given you feel bad and get depressed. But my mom once explained why we expect? Like this:-
It's important to remember that feminism is no longer a group of organizations or leaders. It's the expectations that parents have for their daughters, and their sons, too. It's the way we talk about and treat one another. It's who makes the money and who makes the compromises and who makes the dinner. It's a state of mind. It's the way we live now. A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the "why" for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any "how."
On ignorance my mom had this angle:-
Live this day as if it will be your last. Remember dat u will only find ''tomorrow'' on the calendars of fools. Forget yesterday's defeats and ignore the problems of tomorrow. This is it. Doomsday. All you have. Make it the best day of your year. The saddest words you can ever utter are, ''If I had my life to live over again. ''Take the baton, now. Run with it! This is ur day! Beginning today treats everyone you meet, friend or foe, loved one or stranger, as if they were going to be dead at midnight. Extend to each person, no matter how trivial the contact, all the care and kindness and understanding and love that you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.”
“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”Well it’s tough to understand scholar mom explanations at times but she did this long back with immense ease.
Nothing is permanent except for change, so hopefully this bad phase will pass off like good ones did. But lessons learned will be carried all my life, the agony, the negligence, the insult which i suffered and still suffering will give hardest lessons of life, i will bounce back, i have to...this torrid time closed some doors, which i always thought are opened for me, but at t the same time opened some new one which i always thought are of no or less use for me, never counted on them. Well see the time, some time we need to buck up our self, but that’s the best way also. Come what may God, help me out, if i have done a single deed right in my life help me out. Still remember my father’s words:-
“It’s choice--not chance--that determines your destiny. It is in ur moments of decision that your destiny is shaped”
my dad, though he is no more, i never find any one words more guiding & applicable and any one's words more important & effective than his, Hope he was in this world to guide me as he did all his life.....

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Chaating over chaat in Chandni Chowk

Chaat is a Delhi institution, and chaat-sellers are ubiquitous: they pop up everywhere, from the fashionable environs of Greater Kailash’s M-Block market to the bureaucratic alleys of Shahjahan Road. Small-time guys will usually have a folding table or a push-cart on which they’ll mount an array of vessels containing the ingredients they use. Larger shops will have a food warmer, and a large iron griddle to fry "aloo tikkis"--delicious potato croquettes which are served with a generous dose of mint or tamarind chutney.

Chandni Chowk, in Old Delhi, is the place to indulge in that extremely addictive culinary tradition known as chaat. And with good reason too--Chandni Chowk was where this unique style of north Indian fast food was born. The story goes that centuries ago, when Chandni Chowk was in its prime, a wide canal known as the "Nahar-e-Bihisht" (the Stream of Paradise) ran through it. The canal provided water for the city of Shahjahanabad, whose inhabitants used it for everything from washing their clothes to preparing the dinner.

The Nahar-e-Bihisht was, unfortunately, not quite as paradisal as some would have liked to believe; the court physician, a Hakim Ali, after an inspection of the water, decreed that it was foul enough to kill off much of Shahjahanabad. Alternate sources of water were scarce, so the solution which was proposed by Ali was a simple one: add copious amounts of spice to the water before consuming it--spice enough to kill off any germs which happened to be lurking. What was born was chaat--spicy, tangy--and so mouthwatering that I’m yearning for some even as I type!
Anyway, for the uninitiated: a note on chaat. What it’s all about, what goes into it, and where you can get it.
Firstly, chaat’s a very wide-ranging term for a host of dishes--all of them the snack variety which you eat standing on the pavement, trying to keep the sauce off your shirt while you get jostled on either side by friends and strangers vying for a second helping. Chaat can run the gamut from deep-fried spicy potatoes to chopped fruit sprinkled with spice--and a lot in between. Not all of it is hot enough to blow the top off your head: in fact, it’s a combination of spice, sour and sweet which makes chaat what it is--irresistible.
Secondly, the essential ingredients are many. These include boiled potato, boiled gram, chopped onion, mint chutney, puffed rice, tamarind chutney (delightfully sweet-and-sour), whisked plain yoghurt, chopped cilantro, and a host of edible things you may never have come across: little deep-fried squiggles of savoury gram flour batter; tiny coins made of savoury pastry; and golgappas--crisp hollow spheres, deep fried to a luscious golden, then punctured with an adept forefinger, filled with potato, topped up with a generous spoonful of a spicy liquid, and popped into your mouth before the whole thing disintegrates down your front.

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Scary Dream

I always have this issue with dreams. I get scary dreams; so much that I wake up suddenly and realize that I am in the bed ; sleeping not part of the dream !!
Most of the times ; I don’t remember them as I get up. I think this is such a blessing !! Sometimes I do remember them.
Yesterday night was one of such dreams. It was all related with bombs. People were doing , porting bombs every where. There were this whole bunch of people locked in the office and then there was this group of people who came in and they started bursting bombs every where !!
I don’t know who all were with me. I don’t remember or identify any of those faces. I don’t know the reason behind such a dream.
May be a few discussions with TBH about these bomb-blasts; then we watched the Delhi Police Press Meet ; then the news report about the new terrorist location Azamgarh. There was not any exclusive thoughts about these things on mind as such.
Thank God it was just a dream. All I remember was I woke up abruptly drenched in sweat !! I don’t know what it was meant or why I dreamt about this.

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Blacksmith & Bus stop

Pic By: Gayatri Pradhan (ToI) of Delhi Haat

A speeding bus rushes towards you, horns blaring. Taken aback by the sudden speed and noise, you try to step aside, only to bump into a cyclewheel. Welcome to the Sagarpur turning on Pankha Road, a pedestrian’s living nightmare. Criss-crossing between high-speed vehicles has become a way of life for pedestrians here as the footpath has been taken over by blacksmiths. About 10 shanties, housing families of Rajasthani blacksmiths have been occupying the footpath here for the past 15 years. The Sagarpur bus stop is located barely 100 meters away and the stretch has a number of buses parked at any given time. But with the footpath being blocked, pedestrians are forced to walk on the busy road. ‘‘Walking from the bus stop to my house is a harrowing experience. The footpath has been occupied for many years now,’’ said K C Bharadwaj, a Janakpuri resident. Parents of schoolgoing children too are a worried lot. ‘‘My son’s schoolbus drops him on the main road, but I am scared to let him walk home alone,’’ said Himani Kumar, who escorts her son to and from the bus stop everyday. Residents allege that there is a nexus between the local police and the blacksmiths encroaching the footpath. Although they were removed by the Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD) a few years ago, they came back within a few months and settled at the same place once again. The blacksmiths have now started selling plaster of Paris statues at the intersection.

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Kishan's healthy ways

Pic By: Vaibhav Shukla

kishan is a Rag picker who stays in Sanjay Gandhi transport Nagar of Delhi. He has a large family of 7 members. His father is a casual labour & he is the only earning member.So to support his family Kishan had to become a rag picker.Kishansuffers from malnutrition.
Kishan is enrolled in Child Survival India's learning centre at Sanjay Gandhi Transport Nagar, Delhi. He is also provided with a midday snack. He now enjoys his studies & takes active part in all the activities of the centre. Besides studies students are taught about health & hygiene, reproductive & sexual health, child abuse, educational games & life skills.
Kishan's health has improved. He now takes bath everyday & washes his hands before every meal. He has also carried this message to his family. They have also now started practicing heathy practices.

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His Courage & Determination.....

Pic By: Rahul Anand

Shailender is the fifth child of a large family comprising of grandparents, parents and 8 children. The family is landless and Shailender's father works as a mason on daily wages. He could never find a place to study in the small, two-room house. During graduation, he went far to access a Public Library.
Three years ago, CSI started a rural library in Shailender?s village. He could sit there and study the whole day as it was close to his home. He was also not faced with the daunting prospect of having to change buses late in the day to get home.
Shailender has cleared the examination for sanitary inspectors? training and after 9 months, he shall have a government job. He is very happy and visits the library everyday to read newspapers. The library has some preparatory books for competitive exams. Shailender, however, feels that more books and magazines that can help students to prepare for exams need to be added to the collection.

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Shanti- Come what may?

Pic By: Gayatri Pradhan (ToI)

Shanti was living in the resettlement colony at Metro Vihar. She was illiterate and, not knowing her legal rights, she was constantly harassed by her in-laws for bringing insufficient dowry at the time of her marriage. Things had come to such a state that her husband and mother-in-law were beating her everyday.
Shanti came to know about CSI?s Mahila Panchayats and the legal literacy workshops. She enrolled herself for one such workshop. This made her aware and conscious of her rights, and about the Crime against Women Cell. She approached the cell and lodged a complaint against her husband and mother-in-law. The Cell summoned her tormentors, and counselled them to behave properly with Shanti.
Today, Shanti is no longer a weakling and she does not take any harassment lying down. Nowadays, she is even motivating other exploited women to fight for their rights. Having acquired awareness about her legal rights, Shanti is now an alert individual full of self-confidence.

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