Death

National Geographic says two people around the world die every second. There couldn’t be a more natural part of life than death, yet, we run and hide from the subject as if it’s going to make it go away. It’s the equivalent of sticking our fingers in our ears, closing our eyes tightly, and humming a song loudly to stop anything approaching us.

The Upanishad titled “Death as Teacher” says “Birth is but the beginning of a trajectory to death; for all their love, parents cannot halt it and in a sense have ‘given is to death’ merely by giving us birth

How can we best be prepared for this parting, termed Death? In its wake, one experiences deep depression, a sense of grief, sadness and even anger. Some resort to the isolated road, or use drugs, alcohol to numb the loss and some have family and siblings to be sad together with, grow stronger with, and deal with the loss.

Advice is free flowing at such times, but the ear is not willing. And anyway- free advice is hardly ever heeded to, right?

The huge question that stares one in the face, will life ever be normal. How could this happen to me/us. Why did it have to happen to us? What wrong did we do to anyone? Yes, universal questions.

But heck Death is not a punishment. No. An eventuality, yes. A certainty, yes. Perhaps even a gift, at times.

Sure the photographs, albums get displaced, the clothes get given away, the rearranging of life beyond superficiality, gotta be addressed. Yes displacement disrupts normalcy. Big time.

My quest is not to understand this ‘post-death’ phase. I am hoping to deep dive into why so many of us, are not prepared for this eventuality called Death. Why do we run scared of something we know for sure is a cent per cent occurrence? Why do we fear it so?

The initial argument is perhaps, not wanting to see the loved one in discomfort or pain, hence you want the individual to get well. Despite knowing the status is getting bad to worse, we still hope for a miracle of recovery. Sure this is optimism, positive thinking. But don’t most live in a dogged denial, negation - of *the one* eventuality? We simply do not want to bell this one.

So, what are we afraid of here? The pain and suffering the loved is going through? But that will only reduce, peace will make way. Their agony? Cannot be, right? Because that will eventually make way for calm.

So, could it be the sadness of them departing, leaving us “alone” behind that makes us sad? So possible. The one about to move into the next phase of a new journey is sad because he/she cares, just as much, as we do. It’s this unseen strong force that weds us into a bonded close relationship. It is this very unseen force that makes us crumble with a fear of loss. And perhaps that is why we remain afraid, mortally afraid.

So, we are afraid?

Afraid of a life without that loved one? Afraid of lack of companionship? Unconditional love? A bond that means so much, is about to snap? Then, it is about ‘us’? And not really, about the person who is dying, right? We are afraid that our status quo is/will be disrupted. Change is never good, is it?

And if that be the case, it once again proves, doesn’t it, Love is selfish. Rooted in “I, me, myself”, unbending and uncompromising? So, my conclusion - Are love and Death, 2 sides of the same coin?

In our fear of dying, we seem to have forgotten that it is a natural process that is part of life. Plato believed that death would free the soul, so that it could reach perfection. And even a determinist cannot claim that we don’t have the choice to decide over our life, even if in that view we have no sway over the events in our life. The right to Death should be as fundamental as the right to life!? For another day.

Go well, ALL

The mighty ocean

You are the genesis of Life
yet I fear you the most

Swollen river rapidly moves
thunderous sea howls aloud

Meeting the mighty ocean
in a celebration of creation

You are the reason I am alive
yet I fear to plunge on my own

For an entire day I worship you from afar
watch your moods and pay obeisance

My heart is awed by your vastness
the changing sky above stirs my soul

The sun gives way to dark
many questions come alive

The fading light promises secrets deep
The silence makes the roar of your surf soothing, at last

Wonder what lies beyond that horizon
where the toy ships dance in the dark

I sense a familiarity, a deep intimacy
of cleanliness and purity found only in darkness

You help me reach deep within
to find truth and beauty in my soul

Are the dark knights your angels
or do they tread safely and cautiously

Do you get bigger and stronger
or does life take on a new meaning from here?

Where do you meet your creator
at the horizon?

Or, Are you the Creator?

Born In India

Sometimes I ask myself why do I feel such a misfit in my own nation. I love India lots, yet, on many occasions; I feel I don’t belong here. Perhaps it’s my expectations, perhaps it’s my desire to see India grow and develop in a certain way, and perhaps it’s the gnawing ache of unfulfilled dreams shown to me by our freedom fighters and the political class?

Then again, I say to myself, this is My country, my territory, my home, my property, all my loved ones are right here. It is my duty to do everything in my might for her, or at the very least help in the process of change, protect her, worry for her, make her look and feel better; if not me, who will? Who will?

After 65 years since Independence, there came a brief period, (a couplea years ago) that shone brightly, where I held my head high and said with pride I am an Indian. Like a shooting star the brilliance faded as rapidly, and left the flash effect of light behind, which many assumed wrongly to be the halo for India Shining

Tch tch, we are not there. We are far from there. There is so much work to be done, so much toil to be put in, so much to be corrected, so many paths to be constructed, before we can all pause to enjoy a dekho of satisfaction for this sweet land called India

64 confused years of nation building, have passed us by. Do we feel secure in our nation? Have we taken much for granted? Do we value human lives? How do we protect these lives? How do we re-invest back into our daily existence, without ploughing back into this land called India?

We enjoy a certain level of freedom today, which many have taken for granted, which is made possible only by the sacrifices of the many generations of Indians before us...

I love India and I am even prouder to be an Indian! BUT... I am disillusioned, I sense my broken dreams.

The beautiful picture I had painted of my future, years ago, is now marred by the influx of poverty, slums, unhealthy living, jostling for space, lack of education, lack of self-worth, small hearts, large ego’s, dis respectfulness towards elders, more importantly, dis respectfulness towards self!

I begin to doubt my own identity.

How can I belong to this nation called India? A land so sacred once upon a time, a land belonging to one of the oldest civilizations in the world, a land fit for Gods, a land rich in its natural make up and acquired lineage, a land that has parentage and heritage…how and where did it go so wrong.

I cry silent tears of despair. I weep with frustration.

Have we become so myopic that we cannot see our dimming futures? Have we become so dark that we enjoy killing goodness? Have we become so selfish that if I can’t have it, I won’t let another either. Regressive does not translate for the future, unfortunately.

I find it hard to answer when I sometimes question myself, "Why do I care?"

For whom do I bleed, bust a nerve, work tirelessly and un-endingly; while the rowdy’s march the streets and the intelligentsia sit around and debate endlessly?

Why do I cry these tears of frustration, of sadness, of despair? Why have I yet, not left the shores of India, when I know I could probably earn five times or even more of that amount outside?

There could be only one answer: I love my Country.

In times of war, I will gladly lay down my life to protect my home called India. In times of peace, if there is something called peace, who is marching alongside me, to keep this nation’s spirits high, who is working hard and tirelessly to responsibly change every day little things for a better tomorrow, who is watching guard over our young, so that they become equally ferocious in their pride of this nation, as they will certainly be, of their homes and futures?

I do not need the media, or the politicians, or someone who has deserted his own parents, to tell me what patriotism is, nor the significance behind my own Flag or my Anthem. I do not need those people to march alongside me, seeking a separate flag, or a separate state anthem, when words like ‘harmony’ and ‘compassion’ are lost out in this race for greed of “I, me, myself”, where paper tigers outweigh real doers.

No, I am not blaming the migrants for invading my city, nor am I blaming one city dweller for giving up and coming to another city; but rather, the policies for allowing them in and not creating enough infrastructure or opportunities to absorb them all, to ensure a robust life for all. Religion cannot be the reference point for everything.

Is the place of my birth, where I truly belong? Why am I losing faith in this land where I grew up and have grown to love? Why do I sense I am one against a force of many who think similarly of war, destruction, selfish pride, why do I feel so outnumbered and alone?

Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced. Its time. To look inwards. Course correct. Place India above “I, me, myself”

Please do not make me feel like an outsider in my own country. Love for one’s country cannot be ambiguous. Ask yourself, do you honestly love India, a little more, than you do yourself? Its then, we can hope to have a country of proud nation builders.

Happy 65th , India.

First Rains, Bombay

Felt so complete soaking in the rain

Felt no sorrow, no pain

It may give me a cold but I don't care

There's a calming sensation from grass to air

The feeling of love I don't have, I will gain

Because my heart falls open as I stand in the rain

The earth smelled of fresh, wet mud,

The leaves danced in the downpour, blushing green

I raised my face heavenwards

The giant shower and gusty winds

Descended thunderously

To quench a parched city's thirst

To give hope and re birth

To know happiness abound

Today, it rained

Never late to look destiny in the eye (India vs Sri Lanka)

The Men in Blue made us Indians patriotic. Made us passionate. Made us proud. They always had our purse strings and now have our heart and our undying love too.

Do we realize the immense pressure we put on our playing XI to win the World Cup? Does it come from our own shortcomings? Or then perhaps does it come from all those unfulfilled promises made by our politicians?

When the world does an India mapping – India was always meant to be a Super Power nation, to be reckoned with in the world, and yet, on a daily basis, our people are still fighting for their daily bread.

Are we celebrating this victory, because we have nothing more to be proud of as Indians? A victory that after decades of corruption and loot has made our head stand straight on our shoulders with pride, over a sport?

Indeed proud nations like Australia are built on sports, have created an identity for themselves as a super power. Can India do it for itself? Sure can. But will India do it? Somehow I don’t see it happening.

We have a great degree of talent and our playing XI epitomizes the story of India. Dhoni has the will and conviction of a puritan who knows he can do it, a steely resolve to make it happen no matter what. Indians deep inside know this too. The question is when will we allow the Dhoni in us to surface and take the lead?

Yuvi epitomizes the brash talented Indians who are way too much in love with themselves, too busy, with their extra-curricular activities to focus on their strengths; but when they do focus, India comes alive and has every reason to be proud.

The masses of India are like Gauti, who diligently work hard, have a will of making things better, but sometimes take their eye off the ball and get clean bowled- the spine gets broken- momentarily, but being the hard working people, we relentlessly prod on to score a ton in the next round.

The more we speak about our cricketers the more you actually can draw parallels in real life. There is so much self- belief about this team and what a gift it has been for Gary Kirsten, Sachin Tendulkar and all those who have played a massive role in revolutionizing Indian cricket to this level.

I think - the recently concluded World Cup has taught us a lot about healthy competition, being generous in success, having a focus and a leader to transform the ordinary to extra ordinary, honor coming to those who stay devoted, bringing a collective towards a common belief. The underlying truth is simple – Hope gives rise to a will of “can do” - we as a nation can do wonderful things and be proud of. Time to Rise and Shine India, do yourself proud.

Green or Blue on 30th March?

Age old India Pakistan rivalry has long given way to India Australia arch rivalry.

Given India has won *that* HUGE battle of nerves against Australia, the only worrisome factor gnawing at many, will be - have the men in blue become too over confident? Or even worse, have they become a wee bit lazy? (assuming they have already won the Cup after Australia!) That will spell danger. Surely.

India vs. Pak semis is and will be special.

Pakistan thus far has been playing under the radar - the worlds expectations have been rather muted if not low of this cricketing nation. A last minute skipper has rallied the team around him, they are enjoying their cricket and they seem to be in a very positive frame of mind.

A pace attack which is deadly

An inspired skipper leading from the front

A self-belief in themselves

Pakistan has indeed done well- got themselves a berth in the semi’s- and am sure, they now believe they can indeed win the cup

India: everyone who speaks and discusses cricket, believes the cup is for India to win. Am rather pleased to note this sentiment is muted with the team! Thank God for it! Speaks for their maturity

India has an array of strengths besides the depth in its batting

Aggressive Ashwin in the guise of a spinner

Zak, wily and skilled

Yuvi- firing well in all departments of the game

Above all the cunning of MS Dhoni: Such an intelligent captain! Knows the teams strengths all too well (surely will be hoping he will soon be among the runs too), also knows how to maximize the limited bowling resources.

In the battle of 30th March there is no reason for India be arrogant or weak kneed, Perhaps the trick will be to hold on to own nerves and keep wits about ( fairly similar situation to Australia I imagine) - the basics if got right, should power India onwards. And yea for sure, discipline in fielding similar to that against Australia, will work wonders for India

A tangential observation: Do sports and politics merge? Sports can be such a fabulous glue to bring the world together. Indeed. Did we need Geelani and MMS to step in to add to the already existing incredible pressure on the 2 sides? So unnecessary!

The heart wanted an India / S Africa Finals, and the head wanted an India vs England Final (which I had predicted over 2 mnths ago) -neither is to be now:).

3 teams from 4 in the semi's, from the sub continent - some very pleased with the way things have stacked up...

Back to India vs Pakistan - in my book, India should be able to vanquish Pakistan, for sure will be a cracker of a match - a special treat for the sports fan across both the nations

Karan of cricket we are NOT (borrowing Harsha's fabulous analogy)- India will WIN the game on 30th. And take it from there for the next!:)

School days

Material acquisition in those days meant pocket money to buy a pink candied ice-cream cone or 2 small samosas or a vada pao! We made rubber band guns to shoot paper in class, and often got caught in the act. We also made toys called “water pistols” with our water bottles for a water gun. The water pistol was initially an instrument used by an uncle in Delhi who had a large garden. There were no hoses in his garden for some reason, so he would take a long broom handle and fix a rag onto it and stick it tightly into a long galvanized pipe. He then dipped the pipe into a bucket of water and drew the handle back, vacuuming water into the pipe. Then he raised it and shot water a long distance to water his plants by shoving the broom handle back into the pipe.

We saw this as kids on our summer vacations and made our own water bottles the water guns to play with sometimes even by attaching straws to it so that we could shoot afar! After school we would spend hours shooting water at each other, till our respective parents would yell at us to get back home! We played many games together as there was not much television to watch or video games to play or the internet to isolate oneself. Lagori, marbles, iti danda, football, cricket, hop scotch…

We even played hockey with sticks and tin cans if the ball would get punctured by a passing by truck. We didn’t have sufficient money to go buy another ball and were happy playing with a make shift arrangement.

During summer holidays we’d go to a nearby park for a fast jog and then hang out together as a big group of friends to chatter. And plan the evening. Which would be once again meeting together and playing some sport

Sundays would be special as it was no kitchen day, mums day off- so after a late heavy breakfast we’d either troop out for a late lunch or a brunch to some special restaurants. Eating out over wkends was a ritual. A day to spoil and appreciate mum:)

Given mum was such a fabulous cook- we always had people over for dinners and lunches too. Good food was hence a key feature of our childhood years. All meals were family oriented and only on wkends eating between meals was ok.

There were no supermarkets in those days or at-least I cannot remember any such, as everything was bought in general stores. This was a joy for us as we could go to the store and buy a chocolate or candy bar or even a Pepsi cola sipper.

Ice, precious ice would be bought off from a handcart man who would bring huge slabs of ice- and we’d enjoy the thrill of him breaking a part portion for our purchase especially when he’d be breaking the large slab and shards of ice would get sprinkled on us as he went about breaking the ice:)

Annual picnics from school was always a big affair –bus loads of us drive to some park or safari, see nature or technology and automation from close quarters. The day would be spent in much excitement as the thrill would be to sit next to ones best friend in class during the bus ride and make small talk, I cant even remember what we would speak about Annual days at school would be equally fun when we had to doll up, I personally hated all the fuss little girls would make about dressing up, glancing in the mirror to admire bla bla

But not a day would go by if we didn’t get to meet our building friends, hang out and play together in the building quadrangle till late evening. Given we were a mixed bunch of boys and girls of all ages we would play chor police and find the most amazing places to hide –on top of the milk booth or inside a tree or under a parked car! We’d also play Badminton, throw ball, walking together to the library to get story books, reading our horoscopes daily from the newspapers, quarreling and making up, running back home about sunset just before Dad would get back from office - to have our evening baths, get readied for the night, some studies and then dinner together as a family.

Family was a real blessing. Spoilt by granparents, adored by parents, and loved by neighbours and friends. We as a family were a lot closer than most of our friends/neighbors as we lived in a nuclear avatar. Other families in our building had many more people living together. We as children always were treated right by our parents, were paid the right attention, were corrected and appreciated all the time. My sister got to wear more hand-me-downs compared to me, as she was younger. I can’t remember her ever complaining about these hand me downs- ever. I was the spilt brat, looking for choices all the way. It was also a big deal to have new rain shoes –gum boots or belly’s. So year on year we’d debate and finally settle on belly’s; because the only time I said I wanted gumboots I had water squishing around inside my boots all day and I made so much noise walking around that I was fed up of the huge embarrassment. The thing is I couldn’t remove those large gumboots from my feet because of a vacuum that got created and only upon reaching home after school did Hari, our help, put all his might in tearing the shoes from my feet, finally some relief!

Chores were a part of our everyday life, we had to complete our share of daily workload- our parents were most conscientious of ensuring that none of us brother or sisters ever felt unequal to the other so we were all meant to do all jobs always without bias. From cleaning, to zipping downstairs to buy bread or a magazine from the news stand , to making tea etc

Childhood was about innocence and life, of robust laughter and camaraderie, of fair and just, of winning and losing, of bruised knees and tears and above all a can do spirit that never knew doubts and fear. :)

This is Life

Look at all the things going around in our world - floods, sickness, earthquakes, depression, recession, loss of jobs, losing a home or a loved one, fights, battles, wars, hijacks, politics, corruption; the list is endless

Unfortunately, no one hands out any instruction book on how to deal with life.

In our growing years we were expecting life to be one big party. And once we got our act together as an adult, what a surprise! A few years after reaching adulthood and having to deal with the real world, one comes to the realization that life is difficult. Life is not a spectacle or a feast; it is a predicament.

Regardless of age, if we foolishly expect living to become easier down the road, forget it. Irrespective of how talented or how rich or how old one maybe if truth be told, everyone experiences stress and pain to a certain degree. Mistakes and setbacks add up to success. Then success leads to failure. This is life. Life doesn’t allow us to remain still. We have to keep moving and adapting and changing and in the process have to learn to love life.

Life teaches us to cope. If we consider our-self fortunate or less fortunate as the case may be it also helps us to realize nothing is as grim as it first appears. Today's crisis makes tomorrow's interesting story. What we call experience.


Life can be relatively difficult or relatively easy. What matters is how we react to our environment. Whenever life gets overwhelming, I subject myself to this mind-altering question: "Yea, life is tough - but then again, compared to what?” Seriously we don’t even have to go that far…even if we look around our neighborhood… we will realize we are so blessed- our life is way better.

So the lesson for myself is that life can be tough, sometimes it is harder than one thought it could be. Sure sometimes life broke my heart and made me cry for days. This is the real life. In real life we DO get to make our choices and we CAN become the person we dream of being. Even if not everyone we love will get to see the final result of all our hard work. It's a big lesson, and a hard one to learn, but it's well worth it.

All told, life is a learning process and the school of hard knocks is a great teacher. Pleasure and comfort don't build character - adversity does! Would I change my life and wish it to be otherwise? I am blessed:)