Showing posts from November, 2009

Cute kids:What's on their mind ?

Thought of this idea. Would share some archive images from my photoblog with few facts and anecdotes to share.

These are Himachal kids. They were playing without caring the dust that banked on their faces (that made them more cute). I noted that the people care little over looks. No sunscreen at this high altitude (above 8000 ft.) Most of the people have faces sunburnt. When we went for trekking, we loaded layers of sunscreen, yet the sun managed to make our faces red. Some were unrecognisable. In the pic you could see how the kid's faces amost sunburnt.

Btw, a blog friend commented that the older kid seems to be thinking of attacking me with the hanger. What do you think. What's on their mind ?

In the Gray

Once the world was Black and White
They burned the black and saved the white

But the pressure was always there
Won't dare to be the dark
Won't dare to be in fray
For you'd be termed as black
And it would turn to be your doomsday

How convenient is today
For there's no black and white
There's only gray
There's only gray

Can dare to be in fray
And lie all the way
For nobody bothers
As they too are in one or the other fray
How easy is the gray
How easy is the gray

You kill and still stomach it
You do all wrong, don't dwell on it
Throw the money and everything's hidden
In this world of gray, it can be done, undone

Coz here no one is perfect
Only things that works is the dime, my friend
If you have it then nothing like it
You are tagged, so are others
It's the world like it

There is no black
There is no white
No one is killed
And no one is saved
Coz Its the world of gray
Its the world of gray

by Megha

The sad news : the aftertalks

After two days, the sadness of the news of the girl has now subsided and the aftertalks have started. People are hearing new angles of it. Yesterday we got to know that the girl was five months pregnant and then the conversation started.

"She will come back" said my neighboring aunty.  And almost everyone in the house nodded.

"She will" they said.

"Not necessary" I objected. A conversation is not good without opposition, as it is I am always alleged for opposing, whatever be it.

"What are you saying. The girl had not even completed half of her life. Wouldn't her atma(soul) be restless ? Off course she will come back"

"She should come back and teach these people a lesson" my aunt said, I couldn't make out if her words meant a revenge or the thrill.

"She will not. It's not always that every a victim comes back" I refuted.

"OK. SHE WILL NOT COME" my mom said irritated.

"I was just telling my views" I surr…

26/11 A tribute to the brave-hearts

(courtesy IBN Live)

Day : 26/11/2008

Time : Evening

We all were at home, doing something or the other. Our neighbour comes and almost shouts at my sister "Do you know terrorist have attacked your hotel ?" We gave a puzzled look at her. "What ?" my sister managed to say. She works in Finance department of The Oberoi. "Switch on the tv. They are firing haywire, killing and holding hostages..."

The phone calls started pouring in to ask if my sister is fine. Thank God she was. Then we remembered a girl, once our neighbor, who worked for the call centre of The Oberoi. We called her at her residence. She was fine. We sighed. There were news about blasts and firing. We slept hearing all those and praying for the mayhem to end. But it continued the next day too. I reached my office. I was surprised to see mails from our Client's (Netherland) colleagues asking if everyone was safe. They were hooked to the news, also praying for the end of it. When I traveled ba…

The sad news

Yesterday my neighbour came to our house with a news that made me burn under my skin. A relative of hers who live in the society next to ours ended her life drinking phenyl. It was 14th Feb this year, Valentine’s day that they registered their love into marriage. She hadn’t even completed one year. It’s was such an acidic news that we all were rocked. The girl was just 25-27 years old and earning. It’s said that she had problems with her mother-in-law. And this was the second time she attempted suicide. The phenyl turned her whole body black.What moved me the most is that in spite being educated, she considered the option of ending life than thinking of any other possibility. There might be some big problems she might be facing that we can’t imagine, but still, I would never understand the decision of the victims of killing themselves. She could have returned to her parent’s place. But I have even heard about parents who are not willing accept divorced daughters back to family, mostly…

Breaking the chains

Wassup ?Howz life ?I am beginning to hate these question.How silly these question seems to me looking at my current daily agenda. It’s nothing but just home-office-home chores. While at home, either I am watching TV or reading novel, and office is about completion of assignments just because they have to be delivered by the planned date. I hardly see any excitement in all this. Tired of the boring days that I happen to just pass, I complained to my mom a number of times, “I am bored. I want to do something”. And my mom had been embarrassing me with her perfunctory response, “Then do something”. Thanks to the book and my photo blog that I could spend at some time on them, at least they give me a momentary break.When things grow mundane, even ideas seems to be lost and you are short of blog posts. But how creative I am to make this itself a post. {haha :) Even this is creativity, i believe}I think I am stuck in the mechanical clock, I need to jump out of it and do something. You see ? i…

The White misty beauty

I wanted to share this beautiful image of the Himalaya

It was the day we had to trek to Dhundi, Himachal Pradesh, India and camp there for two nights. But when we got up, we were surprised by the sudden turn of events. It was raining heavily and the Himalayas looked misty with snowfall. I was very happy not too long as we were informed that we could camp only if it stops raining. I took a couple of pics. It looked beautiful. Luckily it stopped raining by the end of the day and we could camp for one night.


When you feel all alone

However we try to dissociate the role of luck in our life, one cannot deny it's prominence in finding Love and Friend. Not everyone gets a friend who always understands you, who's always there for you, in sad and happy moments. Isn't it ? Crash and Burn - by Savage Garden
When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone When you feel all alone
And a loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street
With t…

Stolen Moments : Waves

It was early December. The night was dark and cool. The beach was deserted and desolated. The shore was lit dimly and discreetly by the houses along the curve. The sea was hidden in the darkness, only the sound of splashing waves could be heard. The cool breeze flew in her room with the salty fragrance inviting her towards itself.

She found it too appealing not to venture out. She decided she would just trail near the old house. It was safe but still she feared the stark darkness and desolation. She stepped out. The cool breeze was hitting her bringing her goosebumps. As she moved away from the shore the sound of the waves grew more prominent, more inviting. She could feel the sand getting wet and soft. She stood in the cold water, waiting for the sand to swamp her feet in it like she used to do in her childhood. The white surf calmly came and washed her feet. It was a beautiful feeling and suddenly she missed the feet, also merging in the sand beside her. For some moments she kept l…

Books : Unsatisfied

The White Tiger’ by Arvind Adiga & ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ by Jhumpa Lahiri was what I was reading in past few weeks. When I started with The White Tiger, I had much expectations from the Man Booker prize winner than what it actually delivered. It started off well. The life of a poor in the village, burdened and hopelessness was stirring, but as the story moved it lost the steam. At one point I inadvertently closed it dashing the hardcover between both hands and uttered 'Disgusting'. Maybe that's what the author was up to, to make the disgusting facts reach the readers. It was good in bits and pieces. At times it made me curious and at times chuckle but otherwise it was monotonous. The next I took in hand was the ‘Unaccustomed Earth’. As I reached half way, I was waiting for it to end. The book has short stories where the protagonist is an NRI(mostly Bengali) and the story revolve about his/her life in the foreign land. Probably the reason I didn't like it is because…

Harnai trip

Few weeks back, we got an invitation from Mama(Maternal uncle). He had built a resort Ocean Palacein his village, Harnai and wanted us to join the inauguration ceremony.  It's a 2-floored hotel, registered in MTDC tourism, just on the sea shore, with beautiful view of the sea, the fort, the trawlers that are seen lined up at the horizon. The trawlers have a story that I picked up from mama. It's a fixed schedule for them. They leave the shore early morning for the deep sea. By evening they are back with tons of fish. On the shore the fish would be out for an auction. Once the business is over, money is in hand, they would see if there's any fixes needed for their artifact, diesel, shovel, stove or anything that may require when they are off-shore, buy them and off they are the next morning. This is their life. It goes on this way for years. The big sale is bought by the export guys. We were strolling on the shore. When we reached this market, the rate going on was around R…


From past few weeks we were been bombarded with the Maoist news. The old enemy turned fierce now. Termed terrorist, they are now serious danger by the Home minister realized. Pakistan, the insurgents, the terrorist were the ones that pose threat till then, now another name with them, the Maoist, targeting everyone.The Maoist, they are our own country people, turned our enemy. They have to be dealt. But shouldn't the cause that creates Maoist be dealt also ? *And now in the news had been the Marathi verses Bihari. While I write this article I won't deal with the language propaganda, but will just talk about my motherland, Mumbai.Over years, Mumbai have grown with economically and culturally with people of different states coming together. But in past years, things have changed. The darker side of the city grew more darker. The placid streets started filling with filth. And over the years, the city grew filthier and filthier. Thanks to slums and migration and politicians and the…


This post is dedicated to the brighter younger generation of today. Last weekend I went to my mama's (maternal uncle) place to give the Diwali sweets. The first thing I did after entering the house is to place my cell phone to some secret place, out of my cousin's reach. My cousins are young kids in 7th and 4nd standard. No sooner they rushed in somehow they got hands on my papa's cell phone. Then began their exploration. We had finished our meal and everyone was having the afternoon nap. My cousins were beside me, fighting for the cell phone, thinking it was mine. She is not giving me the phone. She had it for long time. You tell her to give me the phone now, the elder complained.I'll give you the phone for some time, but you will not give it back, I know, the younger retaliated.So I intervened and took the phone from little Ria, who was playing songs and clicking random photos of whatever she got sight on.I handed it to Swapnil and warned to take care of it. In no ti…

Diwali colors

The Forsaken took all of my Diwali and days after the festival. I am still under the mental transition from Story mode to casual blogging mode. The Forsaken was a long story and somehow my mind(blogging) got adjusted to it. Now I have to extricate mind from it.So to start with, I am posting some of the Rangolis that we(my sisters & I) made in Diwali. Though this comes after a long time after Diwali, please bear with me, as I said I am unwinding from story mode and this is the simplest thing I can do.So here's the creativity from my sisters (and myself, I guess self-praise is ok sometimes).I had participated in a Rangoli competition in our office. Here's it. I didn't win, the prize went to the one with Global warming theme. I should have known :( And this one's on "Tulshi cha lagna"(Marathi)/ "Tulsi Vivah". I don't know how many Indians do have this ritual. But in Maharashtra, it is celebrated with the ceremony of wedding Tulsi to Krishna. We…

The Forsaken - Part 10

Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4 * Part 5 * Part 6 * Part 7 * Part 8 * Part 9

The day passed with discussion about possibilities, concerns and solutions.

Next day arrived. It was evening. The grandmother had already placed the diary in its usual place. This time the water with medicine was absent, it was not required in the presence of the doctor Vikram and doctor Natasha. Nikhil was in his room. After their past attempt, he was very disturbed, plaintive, the very reason why the grandmother was turning cold shoulder on the doctor. This would be his last chance and he was already feeling the pressure. They were chatting in the living room when they heard the sound.


He was walking in the compound towards the school. With every step, the loathly memories were clawing in. The compound was dark, deserted. He was walking on the empty portico. Somebody called his name. It came from a distant classroom. He entered inside. It was partly lit, somewhat dark. In the corner was someone standi…

The Forsaken - Part 9

Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4 * Part 5 * Part 6 * Part 7 * Part 8

Her face was red so were her eyes, swollen telling about the sleepless night. She handed the diary to the doctor. Yesterday after few hours she went back to Nikhil. He was lying on bed, his innocent face screamed for rescue. She stayed there for the rest of the night, gently caressing his face.

'How is Nikhil ?' the doctor asked, rebounding her back from the memories. She chose to be silent. The doctor got the answer. She was angry with herself and everyone for what her grandchild was suffering from.  He opened the diary and read. Nikhil had completed their sentence.


Yes, I was close. He had seen Nikhil's expression change when he had uttered the word school. And then the bang, he said in mind. He knew the coming challenge he has to face alone as he thought wouldn't be good to involve the old lady into the darker side of Nikhil's life.