Delhi Wallas do not think the Raj Thackeray's way but...

Delhi Wallas do not think the Raj Thackeray's way but...

By Sandeep Datta
Presence of people of different tastes, cultures and backgrounds is an advantage for the development of any place. Dilli, named Delhi by Britishers, is one such example of it. The confluence of people of all religions, castes and creeds has offered it a unique recognition of being a cosmopolitan city.

For having almost all amenities to offer a luxurious life and employment, Dilli has turned a major fascination for people across the country to settle here.

But there are some disturbing habits and issues that irk people born and brought up in Dilli about these visitors, migrants or the new settlers.

Day in or day out, a lot of non-natives of Dilli speak so much ill about this place. Be it rains, summer, strikes, lifestyle or a rising cost of living or difficulty to own a house or media reports about the city, all seem to serve as fodder for the city's criticism. The prevailing situation could be fare worse in different places but Dilli is viewed to the 'worst' among all.

It shocks to hear people arriving from far off regions of the country at this place -- Dilli -- known for having a big heart to accept all, criticising it as if this is worst place to live.

Like any other place of the world, Dilli also has its dark side which may not be liked by a lot of people. But like one's own house, no matter how many things maybe making us uncomfortable being in it, we never like our home being criticised at least by people who visit it for their motives.

I appreciate the local residents who despite noticing such visiting or non-native visitors routinely do not react bluntly ever lest it should also be equated with Australia or Britain, today known for racist violence.

But, at times, it compels as a native of Dilli, to point out what is largely being ignored by the Mast or, carefree Dilliwallas -- the visitors' attitude. It feels unbearable to watch Dilli and its residents being lampooned for everything. And, these critics being those who arrive uninvited after turning helpless in their native places to earn a livelihood or study!

Prominent objectionable habits among most of these (not all) visitors from different parts of the country is their basic view about the natives of Delhi and everything that the place is today known for in the world.

The general impresssion of Dilli made on the basis of observing something or anything in one part of the city may be completely fallicious, as be it the east, west, south or north Delhi and related parts are completely different in almost everything. The approach of people, their habits, their lifestyle, their awareness level, street smartness or lifestyle can surprise anyone. This is because residents's lifestyle or habits in any area of Delhi are influenced by distinct things or living or economic conditions.

But the topmost thing that I find outrageous among some of the visiting youngsters from the northeast or West Bengal is their dislike for Hindi, the Rashtra Bhasha or national language.

It galvanizes a person like me, who has always liked people beyond their region or language, to see the disgust such people have for everything in the north India or Delhi, in particular, or for Punjabis, more specifically.

The proverb ‘Jist Thali mein Roti khai usi Thali Mein Ched kiya’ or making holes in the same saucer one is given to eat comes to my mind everytime I come across such people who hate the very place; Delhi which has given them shelter or an opportunity to earn a decent livelihood or study.

It shocks oneself to notice how much ungrateful some of these people are.

They enjoy critcising everybody and everything they see in Dilli, ignoring the fact that how, contrary to rest of the India, people of this place has literally shared their saucer with them without ever complaining. Natives of Dilli have no separate reservation in jobs or any opportunity, a fact contrary to rest of the Indian states that have such provision to safeguard their first right on anything in their native State.

Be it education, employment in any walk of life, ration on control-rate shops, space to live or celebrate, people of Delhi have shared everything with them without hesitation. But still, such a rudeness, such ungratefulness, such unobliged attitude? It shocks anyone here literally.

God forbid, if people of Delhi actually started taking such people’s hatred for local people here by heart and asserted their first right to this place, what might happen then?

The growing frustration could compel them to make them force all migrants or visitors from other States to run away. What if some of the natives of Delhi started beating them with Chappals (slippers) or sticks or, if gently, then by social boycott; by not employing, not renting them, not giving them space to utilize any possible opportunity to live comfortably here?

People of Delhi have so far been tolerant and accommodating all these years, but God forbid if they turned intolerant. The time seems fast approaching when anyone criticizing Delhi or its dominant population of Punjabis may face angst in the form of public thrashing and nobody may dare to intervene.

I won't find it objectionable if somone invited such an extreme reaction (read public thrashing) for bad-mouthing about the very place and people that have given them a reason to live here and be happy with their peculiar lifestyle.

The question is -- Why cannot we learn to respect and value the place we visit or people we get a chance to live with? Why cannot we facilitate change instead of criticising things or people of a place? If Dilli belongs to everyone in the country, its lacunaes or imperfections are also everyone's responsibility. Before critising Dilli, we must ask to ourselves what have we done to make it a better place?

Or, if we really find it such a  bad place, why don't we leave it as it is and better look for some other place to be. Thank God, Dillwalas hate to think the Raj Thackeray's way.



(Writer's Note: While writing this write up I have kept three words--Refugees, Migrants, and the Guests--in my mind to evaluate or comment any situation being faced by people of Dilli (the natives or people who were born and brought up in Dilli) by people in Dilli (the non-natives of Dilli).

This latest piece is an attempt to reach an answer that while visiting a place what basic courtesy one should maintain?, especially if that place is going to offer livelihood for one's family and oneself.

Having written the write up about some of my irritating countrymen from different parts of the country or country, I would still say I am indebted to my friends from Bihar, Kerala, Karnataka, and the north east States mainly whose association shaped my personality and influenced me a lot. And, I don't wish to criticise their native places despite knowing a lot of negative about it.

I still have lot of things to appreciate about them, as I hold deep affection for all of them.)

Oct.1,2oo9

Thinking....deep about life......

I am disappointed over my ill-organised lifestyle. The weekly off vanish as if I never had them. The working days drift away with nothing distinct. I need change. I need innovative approach to explore maxium of this all important life.

The routine happenings make me feel, I need to develop new strategies for everything. It's been a long time since I worked on this aspect of family life. From children to the eldest member of the family, they need assistance to think and realise how they can lead their daily life in a better and enjoyable manner. I need to help them.

But prior to anything , I need to remember until I act myself, no change will be possible. I will have to make things happen. And, I will.

We, the off springs of modern life

With a majority of us adapting the “it’s my life” culture, and getting drawn towards enjoying life our wished way, the all-entrancing contemporary culture is redefining the meaning of life in Indian cities.

Though there is no ideal definition of living a life, still every region on earth adapts to a certain way of life. Gradually, certain prevalent practices take shape of rituals and after a few decades there are recognized as the traditions of that particular place.

In India, the fast developing cities observed on the basis of luxuries, facilities and per capita income of families are consistently creating a new lifestyle. Though the upper middle class usually copy it through films, serials, the middle classes spend most of their energy in making attempts to look as advanced the individuals of upper middle class turn.

It’s a maddening competition. Most of the families, especially the youngsters, are lost in this race to look like somebody popular or noticed in films or serials the previous night.

There is, however, a small section of people in this rapidly growing number of people who despite working day-night to realize its ambitions still remains deeply close or associated to family values. Basically, they know how to differentiate between a professional and personal life. Even if they learn the rules of the game but they know how to behave as a family person once they return home.

It disturbs to observe in the cosmopolitan cities like Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore or Chennai, we, the Internet savvy or a bit over-informed individuals, are actually learning how to live the ‘isolated way’ and thus killing the family feeling from our personal lives..

Gone are the days when even a small joy was shared and participated by one and all. Be it a new bike or car, a new dress or any expensive or important item would spread a wave of greetings among the loved ones. Today, even someone’s demise doesn’t evoke much concern. People think twice before visiting the cremation ground. Perhaps, nobody has time or perhaps nobody wants to take out time.

The fast life of cities has no scope for taking out time for one’s own loved ones because of whom one gains success. The grandparents, parents, siblings or even old friends they are the first most of us being ignored by us, no matter how big role they played in our lives.

Visiting parties where barely anyone except the host recognizes us and skipping our family celebrations where everyone loves us, is one of the ills of this modern lifestyle. We have time for those to whom we don’t matter. But we are always short of time or too busy to be those who have been waiting for us with love every time. Isn’t it?

Perhaps, the new religion of our modern world forgot to accommodate the need, the moral responsibility and the courtesy of being with people we grew up calling as “our own”.

Be it rooms, television sets, computers, ipods or cellular phones, the modern technology has been successful in keeping us away from an affectionate world. The gazettes or facilities that were meant to facilitate one’s life to survive in a competitive world, have taken away the actual charm that even the people in Europe or the U.S crave for in their social life.

The joy people used to cherish just two decades ago in the cities is now limited to rural parts of India but not in city life. The villagers in India, many of whom even having cars, cellphones and lands worth millions of rupees, have very smartly shielded their traditional lifestyle from ‘city culture’. They value one’s family by its social standing which is built by socialization and good conduct with each other, the money is not the biggest characteristic to derive respect in villages. One’s dignity is hard-earned and easily lost depending upon the family’s conduct with others.

The city dwellers have finished it off almost altogether to look ‘modern’, to achieve ‘maximum’, or to look ‘advance’.

In Delhi, the national capital of India, some of the major issues perturbing the local people are parking-space, encroachment, wayward and rude children, delayed marriages and high separation or divorce cases.

Nobody, in general, wants to attend to the root cause; the arrival of modern culture which is derived not from the original western life where people work day-night to earn and for a better family care, but from Hollywood films which usually show all live for themselves and not for one’s own people.

The over-exaggerated version of Indian family life and individuals’ psychology as depicted in serials or the new charm to look one of MTV products as shown in Reality Shows now a days, are some of the major influences in today’s youngsters or family life.

There was a time when any festival or occasion like birthday or anniversary would be celebrated in a gala way with parents, siblings and neighbourhood friends at one’s own home. Close relatives or friends would travel long distances to greet and meet to show how much they actually care. But not anymore.

Today, every one of us pretends as if such things always existed in cinema or TV serials. Most of us describe that way of life as ridiculous but actually the need of the hour is to unite and promote family feeling among us. It is needed only if we want to save our family life and not live in our homes as paying guests or a group of visitors sharing a roof for some time.

We spend that ‘busy time’ getting romantic over mobile phones or chatting with strangers in the chat rooms or drinking outside. But not many of us think to take out even a little time asking our aged father or mother, if he/she expected us to talk to them that night.

Who can save us when the “I don’t care” is the way of life we, the so called educated minds, have opted to embrace.

Doest it really matter if our grandpa and grandma has awaited for our only holiday to share their interesting tales of a beautiful life? Or, the cute child or a loving wife wanted to share any “good” news. Who cares if the pet we joyfully brought years ago to our homes is now on the verge of dying?

Perhaps, it’s time to wake up and first revisit that philosophy of modernism that prevents us from protecting our rapidly segregating family life.

Sometimes, ignorance is not bliss

It feels quite disappointing to mention how ignorance is causing a major loss to me. Ganjoo Sahab, an expert on Kashmir affairs, worked with me for some time in ANI. We developed closeness while arguing over several issues with our fellow colleague Barun Haldar, an octogenarian retired voice over artist from All India Radio, and a hardcore congress supporter, who holds high respect among top newsreaders of India.

But Ganjoo Sahab, in his late 50s, developed closeness with me, as we used to argue over day-to-day political or social developments as and when they appeared in newspapers or on news channels. We had heated debates, days of staying on no-talking terms, and even gained popularity in office for our intellectual fights.

He came close to me, for being similar, if not identical in opinion, on many issues; mainly Hindutva related. I hated him when he objected to the Tricolour being erected on the partition between our cubicles. All three used to sit on the end of three rows of the office building’s third floor. Ganjoo never valued Barun and the latter never felt comfortable in his presence. Barun would talk to me mostly when Ganjoo was not around. We would remain seated on our respective chairs and would stand up only when the arguments gained heat. But it was a great fun of its own sort.

Barun Da left the company for his beloved wife, who needed his company following the old age. To my great surprise, I was only person whom he chose to say Goodbye to out of his hundreds of fans in the company. I felt privileged. I feel so stupid of me for not writing Barun Da frequently despite loving writing. I know he has big heart to forgive me. I miss his presence.

A Kashmiri Pandit by community and Hindu by religion, he was born to an Army man and is a brother to a famous geologist. Once he told me how he started writing news as a freelance initially but never allowed anyone to learn about it. He remained secretive, a habit he maintains to this day with alacrity. His father learnt about his only after some of their neighbours told they had noticed his son’s name in some local newspaper in Kashmir.

Off and on, he calls me at night, as he perhaps finds none who would listen to his real life kisse-kahaniyan (anecdotes). He has been a great reporter of authority on his favourite subject Kashmir and its related world. He says he gained notorious popularity among all top politicians of Kashmir and is a well-known name in PoK, Pakistan, and Nepal. I value him a lot as a novice in this journalistic field.

I find it very interesting to listen how he dealt with people that he came across and the circumstances he undergone at times.

For me, it’s highly interesting. But sadly, he calls me at a time when I am not full focused. I believe any intelligent person would love to concentrate on his each word. But I , simply, forget. For not having any in-depth knowledge on Kashmir and related things, all those talks remain short-stories to me. But really those are interesting human stories.

It scares me if ever he talks about having interviewed any top-profile person of authority in India or Pakistan. Though I view it he is doing a great service to our nation in his own chosen way, but my poor awareness and understanding of things disappoints me, especially my forget memory. I am usually surfing net at that time when he calls up or doing something else. It just helps me sleep well having felt entertained and listened to some deeply thought out views.

I don’t know when I will be serious to understand and learn from his talks. I need to improve my basics about Kashmir and Pakistan.

The Metro train and me......

I have recently found a charm in travelling to office by Metro train. Honestly speaking, it was rather a compulsion than a personal choice, as I was forced by circumstances--the heavy rains for it.

The recent heavy downpour in Delhi proved to be a blessing in disguise for a person like me, who gets just 15-20 minutes to think about rest of the day or the strategy to deal new challenges the next day.

The heavy rains stuck my motorbike twice. The rainwater makes it immovable, as the water enters the piston (read engine) which takes almost 12 hours to dry on its own.

No ordinary mechanic or Puncture wallah can help in that crisis! I remember dragging my 99 kg bike 21 kilometres on the first day when it rained cats and dogs in Delhi in August. Thanks to a few nice souls who pushed my bike every now and then up to half way (10 kilometres). Rest was a harrowing experience at past midnight!

But, as it is said, it's never too late to make a good beginning; hence I have started travelling by Metro train from Sep.10, 2009. It is my third day on trot but I find myself like any villager or stranger who has entered a different planet where he is actually lost and has to learn everything by hit and trial method.

The Metro experience is quite interesting for me these days. Everyday there is something stupid done by me. Be it de-boarding at wrong stations and then going blank or naively calling my friend Rajesh for directions (that I haven't followed as yet) or just approaching anyone on the platforms or inside the train asking basic things like any villager in city.

There is unique joy being like that but it involves slightly nervous and embarrassing moments too.

Recently, I paid a fine of Rs.50 for de-boarding at two stops ahead of where I was expected to as per travelling coupon. I didn't know one has to get down at Kashmere Gate for Inter State Bus Terminal stop (I.S.B.T). I asked one or two persons but they didn't tell me clearly. That's how I travelled two stations ahead.

But when I approached the coupon counter for my coupon's up gradation, as was suggested by friend on the previous night, I was charged Rs.50 as fine. It's a new rule introduced a week ago and not many people are aware of it.

My entire joy of the day that I have saved Rs.200 of travelling to my office by three-wheeler vanished, as I a total Rs.82 on that night to reach my residence at 11.40 instead of 10.00 p.m.

Even if it takes an hour-and-a-half to two hours each day on one side from my home in Malka Ganj to R.K.Puram (21 km), instead of 25 to 30 minutes on motorbike, still I am exploring its full joy. I am trying to make myself comfortable with it.

Besides disallowing me to work in office beyond almost eight hours, it gives me enough time to think, to relax and to learn anything what i want. I am just starting to like it.

I view it as something 'new' happening in life. It's after opting to travel by it routinely, with initial hesitation, that I am exploring the scopes and joy of it. So many people, so many talks, there is just so much in Metro, I think I have missed for a long time. It's been probably six years when Metro was introduced in Delhi, but after once or twice travelling like a kid accompanying elders, I had a chance to travel by it with friends. That too on much reluctance and their insistence I agreed.

Now, I am beginning to feel what it takes to travel by Metro. I look forward to be more comfortable and actually be able to enjoy the hidden joy without nervousness.

Yet to be finalised.......Rough notes


Dr. Ajeet Jawed in her book Secular and Nationalist, states…….


Jinnah who ate pork, drank scotch, seldom entered a mosque was ignorant of Islamic teachings, did not observe Islamic rituals, could not speak Urdu, wore high-class Western suits and had come from a Hindu Bhatia family, was christened Quaid-I-Azam by the Muslim Maulvis, writes Dr. Jawed in the chapter Tragedy of Jinnah in her book.

“I still consider myself to be an Indian. For the moment I have accepted the Governor-Generalship of Pakistan. But I am looking forward to a time when I would return to India and take my place as citizen of my country.” M.S.M.Sharma, Peeps into Pakistan, p.185.

M.S.M.Sharma was the editor of Daily Gazette of Karachi.

“I never wanted this damn Pakistan! It was forced upon me by Sardar Patel. And now they want me to eat the humble pie and raise my hands in defeat.” Hashoo Kewal Ramani, Pakistan X-rayed, Delhi, New Age, 1951, p.111.

While inaugurating the first session of the Pakistan Constituent Assembly on August 11, 1947, he firmly declared:

“You are free; you are free to go to your temples , you are free to go to your mosques or any other place of worship in this State of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed that has nothing to do with the fundamental principle that we are all citizens and equal citizens of one state…Now I think, we should keep that in front of us as our ideal and you will find that in course of time, Hindus would cease to be Hindus, and Muslims would cease to be Muslims, not in the religions sense, because , that is the personal faith of each individual, but in the political sense of the citizens of the state.” Jyoti Sen Gupta’s Eclipse of Pakistan, p.54

For Jinnah, Pakistan was a bargaining counter to settle his personal accounts with the Congress and to humble its leaders who had questioned even his representative character and had tried to finish him politically.

Mahommedali Currim Chagla (M.C.Chagla), a renowned Indian jurist, diplomat, and Cabinet Minister who served as Chief Justice of the Bombay High Court from 1948 to 1958, was influenced by Jinnah’s robust patriotism and secularism. He under Jinnah’s guidance worked for strengthening the nationalist and progressive elements in the All India Muslim League.

“Even leaders like Subhash Chandra Bose had great regard for him and often sought his advice on political matters,” M.C. Chagla, Roses in June, December, p.42

Jinnah also stated that he bore “no malice to anyone despite political differences.”

He once stated: I went to the chambers of Sir George Lowndes as a penniless man. He was to me like a father and treated me like a son. When he was in the Imperial Legislative Council as the Law Member to the Government of India, I bitterly opposed him. Withal, we have maintained our friendship unbroken till this day.”

He added: “Pt. Moti Lal and I used to fight like a pair of wildcats on the floor of Legislative Assembly yet on the same evening of our altercation he used to dine sumptuously with my wife at my cost.” Ibid

Ibid /means the source quoted is the same as the source just quoted in the previous example

My day starts usually by 8 or 9 depending upon the shift. I come out of the room to search for papers while rubbbing my eyes. If they have not been placed on the cot or floor in the veranda, I pull them out of the main door. The newspaper vendor leaves it at the top of the main door and sticks them in the grills. I pull them all out of there.

Newspapers begin my first and also the most important activity of the day. I have to take it quite seriously, as it includes searching my mistakes of the previous day or locating the rooms for improvement. I also view it as the time to learn new formats or approches to attempt any story.

Then I carry that bundle of newspapers to first floor and keep glancing through the them for headlines. I feel very desperate to know everthing newsy before anyone could call and tell me anything or ask...saying: " Have you read..? ".....

After that I go to Mumma on first floor....I put the papers in my study room and just rush with a paper to washroom....spend my 15 to 25 minutes reading it there.

I come out and mumma asks....Chai ke saath kya chalega.... and routinely I would say (depending upon time)...tea with fried bread or at times Parontha.... Having said that I brush my teeth, as she would ask immediately....Brush Kar Leya hai tu ki..(Are you done with the toothbrush?). And, I will say 'bus samajh lo ho gaya' (just feel it's done already), as I spend not more than one minute on brushing my teeth even if being aware that one should do it at least for 10 minutes.

Then I enter my study room, pick up papers and head towards terrace room on the second floor...I read there till i get a loud call from Mumma.....as I have to get ready for office.

I usually leave my mobile at charing in study room, hence there is no disturbance. Just me and papers, I value that time as serious preparation or study time of the day.

Then Mumma comes upstairs with a bottle of water, and breakfast. I get up from the cot and fill water in a pitcher or bucket from the water tank placed at the terrace. I fill or throw off the dirty water from birds' pot and refill it. I love them a lot.

Then I return, wash my hands and have my breakfast. After that I get back to papers.

After that I carry newspapers while anyone of them for headlines....and keep climbing stairs and reach Mumma on first floor....I put the papers in my study room and just rush with a paper to washroom....spend my 15 to 25 minutes reading it there.

I come out and mumma asks....chai ke saath kya.....i would say (depending upon time)...tea with fried bread or at times Parontha...and i brush my teeth. Then i enter my study room pick up papers and would go to second floor for terrace room...I read there for till i have get ready for office. I usually leave my mobile at charing in study room, hence there is no disturbance. me and papers, I value that time as serious preparation or study time of the day.

Then Mumma comes upstairs with a bottle of water, and breakfast. I get up from the cot and fill water in a pitcher or bucket from the water tank placed at the terrace. I fill or throw off the dirty water from birds' pot and refill it. I love them a lot.

Then I return wash my hand and have my breakfast. After that i get back to papers.

The Accident

I recently met with an accident on Gurgaon toll bridge. I was returning after getting my Nikon camera repaired from the centre at Gurgaon's Sector 32. I was so excited to have got it back after 17 days of wait and lost in reveries of how I would click photographs.

While changing the lane at the Gurgaon toll bridge I was hit by a cab which was coming at a high speed. It hit the motorbike from behind and I was pushed along with it for five to seven metres.

It was quite disturbing and scary. For once I felt, the cab was going to come over me within no time. Thankfully, the driver applied brakes and i was not too badly hurt.

I felt so relived to find no part suffered any fracture. But the scratches and the twisted leg was quite painful. I somehow managed to return at the broken motorbike. But since last week the swelling and pain hasn't vanished. It's painful at times. I know my laziness is aggravating it.

I thought my leg has started improving but actually it has pain which gets aggravated when i walk a little bit. Like yesterday (Aug.9), when i went to market for Chinese food with Dick-Shit (boss), i felt the pain aggravated by walkng only that much. In the morning also, while kicking bike it felt painful. Yesterday, I applied Volini on it but i think it needs proper rest and heat massage....as you know I don't get time for myself mostly so just kept on delayng out of laziness for myself and it has started bothering me. I feel disgusted to find myself limping in front of all and not being able to walk properly. The legs have always been my strength, as I have been a martial art player. I feel crippled and just pray it should not affect my capacity for too long.

It's so boring here. I wish change in life. The working place is not so encouraging anymore. My creativity needs bigger and better platform to come out and influnce lives.

Visiting a religious place than any hill station is something not many youngesters would agree to. But, as pushed by some of my office colleagues, I made up my mind to to visit the scenic places of Uttarakhand this time instead of going to another religious place.

Little did I know that I was destined for some other place. A day previous to the date we were supposed to leave, I had a mind flash which moved me. I was shaving at that time to go to office on the last day before taking thee days vaccations. The lyrics of devotional singers Rajan ji and Sajan ji Mishra---Chalo Man Vrindavan Ki Aur (O my soul, let’s go to Vridavan, the place of Lord Krishna).

I called up my friend childhood friend Rajesh and we both were ready to visit the one of the unexplored and most fascinating places for us.

At office, I collected basic information from two office colleagues and a maternal cousin to plan out the two days journey to three places—Mathura, Vrindavan, and Goverdhan. I had everything charted out on paper as per bus journey.

But Rajesh booked the tickets online for Taj Express, an unusual train which has sitting arrangement similar to any spacious bus with 3x 3 seats on left and right side. The journey by train has always drawn us, as we have rarely moved out and that too on trains.

As we took the early morning train journey which starts at 7.10, we enjoyed the bread and cutlet in breakfast at Rs.20. It’s quite fresh to eat. As usual, I took out my folder of old newspaper cuttings of articles by foreign writers, my friend felt bored and left for a train survey to find out after all how many girl are traveling with us in the same train. It’s our habit, though I always act lazy and avoid doing the ‘survey’ to save myself from an awkard though tantalizing and natural act of any young at heart.

Our misfortune was that the third passenger sharing our 3x3 seat was a Dehati, a villager and not any girl or educated person. On our right side of the corresponding seat, was a girl Pooja, Rajesh had checked her name from the train chart as we do always before boarding to test our share of luck. She was too ugly to be looked at again. I was sitting in the middle seat and Rajesh on my right side. She sat on extreme left of her 3x3 seat. A passage only separated Rajesh and her from each other. So, it was obvious for Rajesh to take at least five breaks of 10 to 15 minutes for ‘train-survey’ and freshen up his mood. I was enjoying studying the write ups and also clicked a few photographs from the train window. It was a rainy-weather and both of us were enjoying the atmosphere, in our ‘own ways’.

As I stated earlier, we had planned out our tour on paper based on bus journey. The fact that we finally took the train journey spoiled everything pre-planned. But both of us were equally enthusiastic to explore new places for next 48 hours.

The timing of arrival in Mathura, our first stoppage, had extended. Hence, we were to hurry up to visit the first temple—Shri Dwaraka Dheesh temple, which closes sharp at 11.00 o’clock for the morning. It opens at 8.00 o’clock in the morning. There is no cloak room so we had to deposit our bags and shoes-shoes at a nearby private shop meant for this purpose. He charged 10 rupees for two bags and shoes-sandals. Local just leave it at his shop without paying anything.

As advised we hurried up and entered the temple at around 10.10. The shop was just four five to seven shops from the temple so it was time-saving for us. The little exhaustion and surprise to have entered the famous temple for the first time took time for my mind to settle down and focus on the Lord’s holy glimpse only. My mind was lost in looking all around and clicking photographs secretly inside the main hall of the sanctum sanctorum, despite prohibition to take snaps. I personally feel no one should be allowed to take snaps at a place where people are trying to connect their soul with the Lord’s presence. It was just quite uneducated of me and showed mediocrity of mind to take four or five snaps. Honestly, I was too captivated by the whole view—the roof-paintings depicting Lord Krishna in various joyous acts, the colours of paintings and the shimmer of Jhumar in the main hall.

The main Murti (statue) is of Shri Dwarakadheesh (Krishna, the King of Dwaraka). The colour of the revered statue is in jet black colour with the Lord in standing posture. The holy glimpse fascinates the soul. It felt as if I was actually standing before the Dwarakadheesh or, Lord Krishna, the King. The prayer started around 10.30 and everyone joined in singing the Aarti, the prayer full of praises of the revered Lord. I felt embarrassed for not being able to recite even one sentence of the prayer being said by all devotees by heart. This was me, a self-proclaimed devout devotee of Lord Krishna, not knowing even one sentence of his prayer. I felt shameful.

I laid down on floor at the end of the prayer, copying other devotees, as a gesture to Namaskar His holy feet and submit my whole self at his Shri Charan, the holy feet, and seek His kind blessings for future. Honestly, I was feeling too grateful to Krishna for having drawn me to His place from home that I didn’t feel asking but just felt like thanking him for all His grace which I have always found driving me on in all pursuits of daily life.
Some may find it surprising but since childhood till 30 years of age, I never went beyond Shri Vaishno Devi near Jammu. The joy of visiting a highly revered temple at Trikuta hills and 14-kilometres trek always attracted me. I just never thought beyond it until my childhood friend, his professional friend, and myself took the trip to Shani Temple in Kosi, a three hour journey by private vehicle in Uttar Pradesh. I cherished the visit like never before. It was a joyous feeling to have visited a new religious place

Is it better to be good-looking or an influencing mind?

July 8, 2009

Sometimes, some small things bring out the best of our minds or some unforgettable thoughts. It happened yesterday on July 7, 2009, when I finally met my old office colleague-turned-friend after fixing dates for over one-and-a-half years!

The meet could never take place until that fine day due to our different timings of shifts and despite our offices routes being same.

It was also a day I had a bitter argument with my stupid and comedian boss over increment-issue. I reached one hour late and was all-apologetic at heart.

And, here she was presently dressed with dark brown goggles on and having shining pink lipstick instead of her old dark brown colour, wearing trousers and carrying a cheerful smile. She’s my age and didn’t marry for career like me.

We decided to go on a long drive and I welcomed the suggestion. We interacted like two friends meeting after 100 years of longing. The mood turned joyful despite office’ exhaustion and irritation suffered on that day.

Here she was…”Bhaisahab! Larki ko time de kar late nahin aate (Mister, you should keep waiting a girl after promising for a fixed time). And, Oh my God! What have you done to yourself she remarked after noticing my a day-old grey beard.”


Naturally, she is my friend and intended to improve in all respects in life. So the first thing she did was to suggest three things—one should have clean shave, one should perfume himself well, and be presently dressed up.

I smiled at the suggestions and asked her to let's go to some nice place. We wanted to talk to each other for long time but couldn't. We had a pleasant evening and heartiest talks full of laughter and joy.

But by the end of our four-hour meet at India Gate, I felt like sharing my opinion on life and maintaining one’s personality.

I mentioned that after an age one realises we need to look at intellectual beauty and refinement in tastes, as the skin soon fails its charm but the original thing developed in us over the years carries on fascinating till our last time.

We are ultimately remembered for that and not skin, at least among our loved ones including actual friends. I think, she liked the thought.