Farewell...

"Bye bye bye bye. bye bye bye bye bye byeee! जाना है हमको bye bye bye good bye" This was from an advertisement, the whole essence of I'm writing, or should I say, typing?

WARNING: Lots of grammatical errors, correction not intended, very informal style of writing. Sorry.

Fourteen years… not enough to face many farewells… for me at least. There were some though… one farewell the worst (in a way) and the best (in a way)

I was born in Hyderabad, but for seven years Mumbai was my life, my everything. I remember how I used to love to say “Chaddanagar”, where my tall Mama (I like to call him that way, I’m short…) and laugh! The apartment where mom, my brother and I used to stay, Gulmarg (I miss it so much). How all us kids used to run down to play at 6. Srishti had slapped me once at that time, grrr…. I remember how my friend Faheema and I had wandered far away from home (to play): Both my mom and Faheema’s parents were scared stiff (as if anyone would kidnap us, hah!) Her dad took a bundle of papers, rolled them and hit her. She behaved as though it was an everyday thing and I went home, crying (my parents don’t hit me). Once I saw these pencils manufactured at the U.S. Damn, they were beautiful… And I asked mom to get them for me. She roamed all over the city to get them for me, I still cry about it sometimes. And all this resided in that city… Like a part of my soul was still there. We left by train. Annie aunty, Thomas uncle, Deepti and Suneel… and Rajesh were there, at the station, saying bye to us. I felt like I would jump out! Oh, I remember Suneel crying… crying?! Suneel, my brother and I used to play on these small cars (as in they were manual effort toys) on which we would sit and play. I didn’t cry looking outside the window. I cried sitting inside the train. I was leaving them behind, when would I see them again. :’(

It was like… like a part of my heart, should and mind had been torn off, and had been kept separately. My Mumbai heart, mind and soul.

And here was another farewell. I went for this summer class for one month. Today was the last day. Bye! But, I didn’t feel bad, no tears. Maybe because the time I spent in Mumbai was way more than this, but still! It was a farewell… I don’t know.

Every farewell, every goodbye means so much, and so different.

I’m sure about what I’ll feel when I leave H.P.S ( R ). This is going to tear me like nothing ever before. Most of my ‘first- times’ were here. Like a part of me is going to be torn in the most painful way, and I know it, and still I’m not running away from that weapon. In fact, I’m going towards it, every second… Even thinking of it makes me cry.

Adieu: A word with so many different meanings, and emotions…

Rain Rain Come Again

Sometimes I meet people close to my heart or there are some incidents I would like to carry in my heart as long as it beats (and even after that, if there is an after life :) ). I wonder if I will remember them. I always wish I carried a camera around wherever I go, but I guess after loosing two cameras; I have enough experience to realize that I can’t keep carrying one.

Today, two people who are very important to me came home: my cousin and his fiancée (they are getting married soon, I am so excited, maybe if there is something that touches me, I’ll tell you all about it!) We (Dad, Mom, Grandma, my Brother and I) were all happy. Bhabhi and Venky were coming for the first time (together). Am I going to remember this special day? I made sure I would by clicking some pics. It started raining, nay, pouring heavily soon after they came. I went to stand in the balcony to let those drops of purity grace my face…

As this water washed over me and washed away all my worries temporarily, they brought back the memories of July 2008. My cousin had come here on some official work. He was showing us (Mom, my Brother and I) an album of someone’s marriage on his laptop. It was nothing to do with the quality of the photos, actually nothing to do with the photos at all! Actually, seeing the photos of a person’s marriage who is unknown to you, you don’t really know whom/what to look forward to, at least I feel that way. It was raining outside with great ferocity. I’d never seen it rain that way in Hyderabad. The aroma of the wet soil and the coolness and sheer purity of the rain engulfed me…

Today I stood in the same place, remembering that I was standing here less than a year ago…

Sometimes, small things in life remind you of the special ones. I realized that even if I didn’t take photos, I would have remembered this day. I’d have remembered that three people who are so special to me came here once; all it takes is rainfall… ;)

फिर भी दिल है हिन्दुस्तानी !

Summer holidays are going on. I have nothing to do but keep writing. And my ears have become extra sensitive. So the smallest comment/compliment will be noticed and will get a reply from me.

There are loads of things going on- elections, recession… So the comments have to come, obviously. And my temporarily extra-sensitive ears have to notice this. They took up 2 of these comments. A person said that he was glad to leave this ‘third-world’ country, a person born and brought up here, and now working abroad. And the second one is the funniest! Someone blamed India for the 26/11 Mumbai horror. I do agree that the defence part, we did make mistakes, big ones, (I’ll tell you about the mistakes in some other post) but we caused the attacks?? Naah…

Under normal circumstances I’d have said, “Dude, get a life!” But well, summer vacation ;) .

So.

Third World Country, eh? Cause of terror attack huh?

Well, I think this poem is the best way to answer you. A poem written by my cousin Shyam (thanks a million!) I wholeheartedly agree with you.

So here is your answer you people:

When I imagine the world of tomorrow

And look at what is left of it today

Despite the despair and misery around

Hope sustains me

The scare of terror in each of us

With helpless neighbours to deal with

But since my country is pure in intention

Hope sustains me

Our roads are narrow for sure

And many are poor and starving

But with our spirits riding high

Hope sustains me

Nobody ever looked east

We always looked west

But when the world believes we have arrived today

Hope sustains me

Our leaders may be self centered

Social duties are wanting

But when some here live only for others

Hope sustains me

Some countries maybe progressing faster

Garnering acclaim, wealth and prosperity

But when I am free to do what I want to here

Hope sustains me

I do dream of a developed India

And I want every Indian to be rich

But even today I can be happy here

And Hope sustains me

I couldn’t resist putting up a song here…

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

As I look back at the past, the 14 years of life that have been given to me till now, I realize how much I’ve changed. My face, my dressing, my point of view, my interests, my friends, everything.

But the one thing that has never failed to amaze me is the night sky- the stars. The reasons why they amaze me keep changing. Sometimes their twinkling, sometimes their beauty and size, at other times their distance form the Earth and sometimes their sheer number.

As I look into the night sky tonight, what they do amazes me; I don’t know how long they keep me mesmerized… maybe a second, a minute or maybe even an hour.

They change our destiny, according to some religions…

As I enter my home, I see my family munching on their dinner. Unknowingly, instinctively, a smile spreads across my face as my brother is ready to greet me with a friendly punch or a splash of water, my Father waiting for me with some news (why is it so important to him?), my Mother shoving a plate at me to stuff me with food. I’d rather face hell than not be a part of my family.

Yet, I wonder, would I have said the same thing had I been born elsewhere? Those little stars in some other part of the Universe decided that I’d be born here, so be it.

If those stars were positioned a bit differently at the time of my birth, who knows? I could have been born as a Child Soldier in Sierra Leone, a child running away from a bomb blast or a terrorist attack at Kashmir, a child begging the parents not to divorce in any part of the world, a child washing plates in India, my country…

Man changes his destiny, huh? To what extent? Sure, we can alleviate our sufferings slightly, sure, we can do our bit for the Environment, but our own fate?

Shakespeare once said, in a poem of his called ‘The Seven Ages’:

All the world’s a stage

And all the men mere players:

They have their exits and entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

…

Our birth in the world is decided: time, place, family, package offer including our death! And where we are born almost fully decides our future. And it is in our hands…???

Sure, we can choose whatever career we wish to pursue, but isn’t it luck ultimately? Back to the stars, back to God.

He is far enough that we can not see him; he is near enough to change our destiny.

“ Twinkle twinkle little star

How I wonder what you are

Up above the world so high

… You decide whether in the fight against bad luck,

I win, lose, or it is a tie…”