Media and its mediocrities!

The media (read electronic media) in India considers itself intelligent and on many occasions it tries to be the real brooding brain of the society. On many occasions, they will make you feel that it is only they who are equipped with the grey matter to understand the moral nitty- gritty of the complex Indian society. They will always ask blaring through your T.Vs: “What are you doing?”  Many a times, they will make you individually feel responsible for all the chaos of the country.

But can you ask them any questions? No because you don’t have that mic and that glamorous channel. You are there to listen only! 

But you might be wondering that why I am blabbering all this about media. The reason is related to one incident that took place yesterday.

Yesterday, there was a piece of news doing rounds in the media about students of the tenth board cheating in Bihar. While I don’t want to go into the niceties of whether the cheating in exams as an act is morally right or wrong, I would surely try to go into the body language that the media persons across the channels had while reporting this cheating incident.

The media persons across various channels seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in the cheating episode of Bihar. They smirked, they derided, and they questioned the state of affairs about education in Bihar.

What is wrong in unearthing the rotten layer of a social life of the country? You might argue. 

Wait!

Now consider this, the same media applauds the efforts of a coaching institute in the capital of Bihar (that is Patna) for churning out IITians with its magical potion that it provides to some thirty students in a year.

Now here is the devilish dichotomy, you cannot at the same time make fun of the education system of Bihar for cheating and glorify somebody for coaching. The catch is that the coaching of IITs (or medicals or for any other prestigious profession for that matter) flourishes because we don’t have the rudiments of learning placed well in the schools and that is why we have to hanker after coaching centers. If we are given the right potion of education in schools then do we need to go to the coaching centers?

So, in a way, in the eulogy of coaching institutes lurks the dilapidated condition of the education systems in Bihar.

We have become a society that takes pride in KOTA(Rajsthan), Super Thirty(Bihar) and have tried our best to forget the roles that schools have to play, the roles the schools can play, the roles the schools must play.

So, showing repulsion through facial expressions on T.V channels is not going to make the situation any more serious, it is already serious and people who were taking part in the cheating subconsciously know that very well. 

The people of Bihar know it subconsciously that their situation has deteriorated from being the proud custodians of Nalanda University to hapless champions of cheating. They know that how they got reduced to Bihar from Vihar.  They know how the quality of their kings plummeted from King Ashoka to the present day care takers of the state. But they cannot change the situation that has to be changed by the force of the state. The education is a matter that is directly dependent on the endeavors of the state. If you are not lucky enough to go to the private schools then only Govt. is your care taker. 

Anyways, now what I feel is that when a society is subjected to depravity (of all kinds like thoughts and actions) for so long it loses its power to cogitate and therefore  even wrongs seem right to it and that is what has happened in this case. Students of Bihar consider the cheating a normal exercise. Why? Because they have seen people flourish in their state through cheating. So, it is ingrained in their mind that to progress in this state or for that matter in this country, cheating is the only recourse. Their mind is impressionable, so what they see is what they learn. 

But what happened to the erudite people of media, why could they not act responsibly while reporting the cheating incident? Why did they not blur the faces of the students (mostly were girls)? Even today you can find the videos of students without blurred faces. I think that by not blurring the faces of students they have also cheated the ethos of journalism.

 In the precipitancy to uncover the stink of education system of Bihar, they have bared their greed for a piece of news.  If the media houses are so worried about the cheating in Bihar, why didn’t they care to an extent where the regular reports were made about the ground realities of the schools in Bihar?

Only making one off reports that teachers in Bihar can’t spell the names of English Fruits or English Months doesn’t absolve them off of their serious responsibilities and give them license to make fun of the state of affairs of Bihar.

So, in this case of cheating, if anyone had to be belittled or embarrassed then it had to be the political process that has spawned spineless characters in political arena, not the children who were taking the exams. They are mere victims of the policymakers of their state.

Media might argue that they are only mirrors; their job is only to show. Then why this mirror refuses to show the defiled patterns that breathe under its own sleeves. There are many politics, much discrimination, and many games that make rounds in these glamorous media houses but they would always act as if everything is hunky- dory within them.

If they are really honest about problems of the country then they should take steps that provide the solutions for a problematic situation, otherwise they should not read news in the super animated style that gives us a sense that given a chance they will eradicate all the problems of the country at one go.

For media, reporting about the dearth of elimination facilities in India is only a source to win big and prestigious awards, reports of cheating in exams are just a source of promotion in the hierarchy, they don’t have anything to do with the future of the problem, they have only one thing to do with and that is the ‘present’ of the problem. The ‘present’ of the problem is good for TRPs, we are made fools by animated body language of media anchors that shows that  they are harbingers of change and that they are seriously desperate for change.

It is high time Indian media got out of grandiose gibber and focused on the substance rather than spice!

P.S: I have nothing against the coaching centers, it just perplexes me that why the brilliant brains that can shape the minds in coaching centers are kept aloof from making school curriculums that could make the learning as a process easy and graspable instead of intricate and unfathomable.

###

Together: A word for fighting out challenges of life!

The clock had struck 7 O’ clock in the evening and everyone in the office started to feel restless to go home. But the weather didn’t permit this. It was a windy rain lashing outside with the thunders emulating the emotions of bereavement. So, everyone in the bank was compelled to stay beyond their regular stay.

Varun also had to stay, but he was not mentally present there. I always liked him but could never tell him. You know there are some things that seem more logical and rational when they are left unsaid. And on top of everything, I considered Varun a bit haughty, so my liking for him was only limited to a feeling of happiness that I used to experience while seeing him. Otherwise, I was not a very big fan of his behaviour.

He was senior to me and he was senior to some five other employees and everyone was of the view that he was a snobbish person.

Anyways, the rain had let up and at around eight p.m all employees started to leave the bank. I also left with my friend Madhvi on her scooty.

“How is uncle Ragini?”

“You know Madhvi, sometimes I get fed up with his eccentric behaviour. He is not at all being able to accept that fact that mom is no more. On many occasions he behaves as if he has turned a psycho. He never takes his medicines for blood pressure on time. He never listens to the nurse either. He has stopped taking the walk in the mornings and moreover he seems to have lost all his interests in life.”

“I understand Ragini, but now you both will have to tackle the vacuum of the loss created by the departure of aunty together.”

“I am ready and willing to fight the vacuum but he seems to have resigned to the situation. You know Madhvi, yesterday he passed urine in his pants itself. It seems that he has lost all his interest in leading an active life. I feel really helpless sometimes. I cannot watch him dying every day,” I said sobbing.

“Keep patience Ragini, things will look up,” consoled Madhvi.

“Stop the scooty here Madhvi, I have to buy diapers for my dad.”

“Ok… sure!”

That night my father complained of uneasiness. The nurse, whom I had employed to take better care of my father, called the doctor and he advised to bring my father to the hospital immediately.

I hired a car and reached the hospital as soon as possible. There, he was immediately given the emergency injections to make is condition stable. After an hour he was feeling ok. But the doctor advised to make an overnight stay for his better improvement.

All the sudden happenings of the night had really left me exhausted but I didn’t feel even a wee bit of sleep.  Since there was rain in the evening, there was a cool breeze blowing. I decided to take a stroll in the gangway of the ward.

There I saw Varun. He also saw me. I analysed quickly that there must be some emergency in his family as well. So I went up to him and asked, “Who is sick?”

He kept mum for thirty odd seconds and said: “It is my sister… and what brings you here?”

“It is my dad,” I replied.

“How is he feeling now?” he asked.

“He is feeling relaxed now… how is your sister feeling now?” I asked.

But he didn’t answer and kept staring outside of the window of the gangway. I thought that his arrogance was again at play.

But then after being quiet for sometime he said “She cannot tell me how she is feeling... she is in a situation of coma for last two years.”

This piece of information made me feel ashamed of myself as to whatever I was thinking about silence of Varun.

“Would you like to meet her?” he offered.

“Yes sure!”

I went and I saw how a girl in her mid twenties (that is considered full of life) was lying lifeless on the bed.

“She is Ragini…she works with me in the bank. What you said? You like her…ok. ok… I will invite her on your birthday,” Varun kept talking to his sister in a way as if she was imbibing everything that he said.

Later he told me that in an accident he lost his parents and that accident made his sister go into coma.

During my stay in the cabin of his sister, I didn’t see any lines of impatience or hassles on the face of Varun. He was handling a literally difficult situation with the maximum of ease. Then I realized how impatient I was in my behaviour with my dad. Together Varun and his sister were facing the challenges of life head on without any gripes and grouse, whereas I was full of complaints about my situation.

Meeting with Varun and his sister, changed my attitude towards my own situation at hand. I started to see rays of optimism in case of my father as well. I handled my dad patiently and gradually he returned to normal. Now we go together to meet the sister of Varun in the hospital.

And yes I have confessed my liking for Varun as well in these days, because you know what, when you say things, situations of life seem to sound more logical and rational in comparison to when things are left unsaid.

###

  

Start of a new life by vanquishing the challenges of Mumbai Local!

It was for the first time that I had gone away from my village in Kolhapur to the hustle and bustle of the Mumbai city. I had the dreams of having a small job to support my family in the village back home. I was the eldest son, so all the hopes of the parents rested on me. I came to Mumbai with the hope that my friend who was already staying there would help me out.

After reaching Mumbai, I went to his house. It was a cramped room where some 10 people were residing. It was kind of a lodge not a house that he used to boast about in the village. He welcomed me and took care of me for two days. And after that he expressed his inability in taking care of me further. The city was scary and strange for me. So I insisted on residing with him and offered him some money (that I had brought from home) to share his burden. He talked to his lodge owner, who after much whimpering agreed for my stay in that ghetto as well.

My friend told me that he won’t be available with me whole day in my job search. He gave me some addresses in Mumbai and told me to use the Mumbai local to go from one place to another.  It was very day of mine in the Mumbai local. I was standing on the platform and waiting for the train to come. As the train came, a sea of human bodies got down from the train. I went back in order to save myself from the crushing power of that crowd. But I felt pressure on my back from back that propelled me into the bogie. It was really suffocating in the sweltering heat of Mumbai.

When I had to get down in Dadar station, I felt that some force again propelled me, I loosed my balance and fell flat on my face. Some people trampled my back and legs, some stopped and sat me up and took me in a corner. And then they also moved to their destinations.

I was alone nursing to my injuries. After sometime when the crowd dispersed, I moved to the address given by my friend. When I went for the interview, I felt that the eyes of people were making fun of my rustic style of clothing sense. Ignoring everything, I went to the interview room, I told the factory manager about my friend. He asked me some technical questions which I could not answer. I moved back to the railway station dejected.

Again I was faced with the gruesome task to face the ruthless crowd. Somehow I reach the lodge back in the evening. In the night, I was seriously feeling homesick. I started crying thinking of my parents and my sisters. I thought of going back, but the loan- stricken faces of my parents floated before me.

Again next day I went to in the search of the job and again I met with the same fate. After passing of the fifteen days, I was really crestfallen. Everyone in the lodge also started making fun of me as I used to come to the lodge bruised everyday by the local train tussle.

All embarrassment of not being able to get a job in the city and not being able to fight the crowd of the local train sapped all confidence of mine and I decided to go back to my village. I thought that I would do farming and try alleviating the loan burden of my family.

As I was about to board the bus to the Kolhapur, some voice from within me scolded me for showing my back in the testing times, for being week when my family needed me to be strong and tough. That time, I decided that I would start a new life in Mumbai and I would not show my back to the challenges of the Mumbai local.

I turned back and after a month I got a job of helper in a factory. Now it is almost a year and I have mastered the challenges of the Mumbai Local like a real Mumbaikar.

Pampers Diapers: A wonderful gift for lovely babies!

“Why is he crying so much?” asked my husband when we returned to hotel after offering our prayers to the lord Jaggannath at Puri temple.

“He must be hungry?” suggested my mother –in-law.

I tried to breastfeed my 8 months old son, but he avoided. I felt his bum but the diaper seemed dry. Then I gave him his gripe water thinking that he might be suffering from the colic pain.

“Give him to me, I will show him around the city scenes from the balcony,” suggested my Father-in-law.

But my son was relentlessly crying. Generally he enjoys being outside and being with people, but today I din’t know why he was crying?

“I think that he must be irritated with the heat of the sweltering summers, why don’t we give him a bath?” exhorted my mother-in-law.

And we did give him a bath and miraculously he stopped crying.  I put him on the couch all nangu- pangu only with a layer of talcum powder. I breastfed him and he slept a very beautiful sleep in the afternoon.

After my son slept, my in-laws went to their room to take the much needed siesta.

“It was my dream to bring my parents to this pious place, today, I am very happy that I could bring my parents to this place. Since my childhood, I had been hearing the wishes of my parents to visit this place,” shared my husband.

“Yes…they were really ecstatic when they saw the idols of the trio (lord Jaggannath, his sister Subhadra and his brother Balaram)”

“How about going to the Lingraj temple in Bhubaneswar from here?” asked my husband.

“But do we have budget and moreover we have train tickets booked for tomorrow.”

“Look, since we have come so near then why lose the chance to visit the temple? I agree that I should have planned for it earlier, but looking at the health of my parents I thought that I will take one place at a time. But now I have observed that tour to this place has filled them with new energy and they can visit this place as well. From Puri to Bhubaneswar it is just 4 odd hours ride. It will also be good for you too, you will get to see new places otherwise you are always confined in the household work. And for budget part ,I will manage you don’t worry,” explained my husband.

I was also very positive about the idea.

In the evening we decided to go to the beach of Puri.  The sea was really majestic. The guffaw of the tidal waves was scary and beautiful at the same time. The beach was full of different stalls with the sea foods. We also tasted some lip smacking delicacies. As we were making some shopping of souvenirs, my son again started crying and we had to make a bee line to the hotel.

I gave him again the gripe- water but again he did not respond to it. I don’t know what occurred to me that I decided to open his diaper. And my gosh! It was really drenched from inside despite being dry from outside. Now it dawned upon me that  in the afternoon he was crying due to the wet bottoms.  I had bought a very good brand of diapers from the market but it had failed to work.

Now, I had to do some brainstorming to decide upon a diaper that would remain dry from inside as well.  I went to a departmental store nearby the hotel and checked out the descriptions written on the different brands of diapers. When I checked the diapers by Pampers, it was written on the Pampers Baby -Dry- Pants that it could lock the liquid within the layer of the diaper and therefore would give the baby a dry feeling.

I bought and used it. And it really worked. We visited next day the temple and the beach of Puri again. And my son really enjoyed being in temple and at the beach. After Puri we visited Lingraj Temple in Bhubaneswar and other wonderful places like the caves of Udaigiri and Khandagiri in Bhubaneswar, and my son didn’t get troubled with the uneasiness of the wet bottoms at all. He loved the visits to a tee.

Our visit to Puri and Bhubaneswar became a memorable one and Pampers had a great deal of contribution in making the visits memorable.

###

P.S: This is a creative account  

Our daughter, our dosage of hope!

The sun was setting in the far horizon to rise again tomorrow but my heart was sinking as if to remain buried under the gloom forever.  My eyeballs were drowning in the flood of tears as doctors had said that he could save either my wife or my child in this intricate operation. They asked me to sign a paper as to whom I wanted to save: either my wife or my child? The question ‘whom to save?’ translated to me as if whom I wanted to kill. My mind resonated with the guffaw : ”whom I wanted to kill”.

I became petrified by the choices around me and I could not sign the papers. Now, doctors were on their own to decide upon as regards whom to save.

My wife Lata got pregnant after 7 years of our marriage. We went from one doctor to another, from one line of treatment to another, from Allopathy  to Homoeopathy . We visited all major temples of the country to find the blessings of omnipotent.  We had kept fasts, walked barefoot …but I never found Lata losing hope. I used to feel very bad when she used to be sidelined in the major family functions at the home, because she could not beget a child. She used to cry in the nights keeping pillow to her mouth so that I couldn’t hear her crying.

“Why …why is it that even a simple happiness of having a child is so aloof from me?” she used to ask me wailing. She loved children, and children also loved her. Children of my brothers were all fans of Lata but at the best she was addressed as aunt only. But she badly wanted to be addressed as a ‘mother’.

“I had told you several times that her destiny is charred…see even after getting pregnant she is not sure to become a mother… I told you several times to leave her…I would have easily got you remarried.” Quipped my mother, who had also come to the hospital.

“Stop this nonsense mother!” scolded my elder brother. “The operation is on and let’s hope for the best, don’t utter such ominous words at this time, Lata would be fine.”

My mother ignored my brother’s chiding and mumbling some cursing words to my brother turned her head away from him.

“Send her to morgue”, this sentence pierced my eardrums. In a fraction of a second I imagined Lata being stretchered away to the morgue. I didn’t want this reality to be mine, I yelled silently. I turned my head to direct my eyes towards the scary sentence. I felt a sigh of relief to find it to be about a different person.

In the meanwhile the room of the operation theatre of Lata opened. One doctor came holding a newborn baby in her arms. Seeing this scene my mind calculated that Lata is no more, I started crying and ran inside the O.T where I saw Lata lying on the stretcher. I went upto her and clasped her. But then I heard her heart beat.

“She is alive…she is alive… doctor please attend to her, she is alive.” I beseeched to the doctor.

“Yes …yes she is alive…who told you that she is not alive?” said one doctor putting his hands on my shoulders.

The whole dejection and struggle of seven years had devoured my power to think anything positive, and in the state of utter despondency, I deduced that Lata was dead.

As Lata opened her eyes, I got my senses back. One Doctor put the baby by the side of Lata and said “Goddess Laxmi has come to your home.”

My joy knew no bounds that day; I had become a father and Lata a mother.

I still remember that day as vivid as a transparent mirror even after 25 years. Today, we are getting our daughter married and seek your blessings.

###

My family , my mom!

It had been my dream to be a winner in the elocution competition during school days. On ‘Yearly Function Days’ at the school I used to feel very charmed by the prizes being doled out to the winners of elocution event. There was our senior, Sapna Mukherjee,who had a tremendous command over public speaking.  When she used to speak on a topic, the whole school used to watch her with their mouths agape in praise. Like all other girls of the school I also used to admire her panache and aplomb.

Every year she used to win the first prize in elocution. All teachers used to like and admire her a lot. I was in seventh standard and she was my heroine. I also wanted to be like her and deliver speeches like her.

When the elocution events for the next year were announced, I also decided to participate. I read all the informational materials that I could in order to prepare my speech. I was really feeling well prepared and confident.

There were some 30 odd participants for the elocution event. And they were all very prepared. I used to think that only Sapna is good, but there I saw that all other girls were also very talented and skillful at the art of elocution.

Now my turn came. I went to the podium. But when I saw the big auditorium (though it was almost blank) I started feeling uneasiness, my heart palpitation increased, I started perspiring, and my eyes went blank for few seconds.

“Payal …speak!” my teacher goaded me from background.

But despite my all eagerness to speak, I could not muster up courage to speak. After waiting for few seconds for my courage to be alive, I left the podium and auditorium.

All girls were smirking at me. I was really disappointed in me. That day I knew the difference between dreaming of being an expert at elocution and delivering the speech in reality. Whole night I kept sobbing in my bed.

After the auditorium fiasco, I was not that cheerful self that I used to be. I used to remain pensive and aloof. After one month or so of my elocution embarrassment, my mother intervened to know the reason behind my dejected mood. Since some time had passed after my elocution flop show, I didn’t feel that embarrassment in pouring out my feelings to my mother.

She listened to me patiently and said: “failure is the cradle in which success is reared…don’t lose heart dear…practice is the name of the game.”

I went to the school after having my breakfast. I was feeling bit lighter after sharing my failing with my mom. When I returned from my school that day, my mother had sorted out videos of all the great speakers of the world. She told me to listen and learn. She was brief but she was to the point. One day she took me on the nearby hill and after reaching to the top, she told me to open up and speak on whichever topic I wanted to speak on.  She told me to feel as if I was addressing whole of the city from the top of the hill. And I did open up that day.

Next time she told me to go before the mirror and take care of my body language. The swings of my hands, the moves of my head and rhythm of my voice: she taught me how to take care of all these things while speaking on a public forum.  She taught me how to master the art of keeping focus on your mind and cultivate confidence while speaking.

Next year when the elocution contest was announced, I decided to take part. I entered the auditorium. I waited patiently for my turn and maintained the focus on myself.  When my turn came, I went to the lectern, scanned the audience and delivered my speech laden with all the skills that I had learnt in the last one year. At the end of the speech the auditorium reverberated with claps.

Later I was adjudged the firstwinner of the elocution contest. My senior Sapna Mukherjee   also congratulated me.

I went home and hugged my mother. My win was the upshot of all the support of my mother. On the yearly function day, my mother was present in the audiences. I could see the moments of pride etched across her face when I received my award.

###

Quikr NXT: A hassle free ride to get rid of your used car!

Being a single mother and that too who is working is a tough ask. Every day I drop my 5 years old daughter to her kindergarten while going to the office and pick her up during my lunch time. And after putting her at my mother’s place I go again back to my office. And in this, my car supports me a lot. Though it has become old but it is in fine condition. It runs smooth like a knife through the butter.

I still remember when I had bought it after savings of my first job.  I had given the ride from Pune to Mahabaleshwar to my parents. I had gone on picnics with my college days friends in this car. When I had adopted my daughter, I had brought her home in this car. So, this car is of a great emotional value to me.

Many of my colleagues had taunted me several times that an art director of so big advertising agency does not suit coming in this this trite car. But I was in no way ready to accept their pieces of advice.  I loved my queen.  I could never have thought to sell off.

My car and I are living “happily ever after”.

But one day, the happy tryst with my car become sour . On a rainy night, while I was going to pick my daughter from my mother’s house, I felt some jerks while changing the gears. And after getting jerk for 2-3 times, it stopped. It was a desolate road and the rain was lashing the earth with all of its vehemence. 

I was putting the key in to ignite the engine but was failing. In the desolate road, I was feeling scared to death.  I was putting the key again and again in the keyhole to ignite, but failed. I thought of calling my colleague Sandhya. But her mobile was unreachable.  I was in real jeopardy now. One car stopped and a guy alighted from the car, came near to me and asked me: “Can I help you madam?”

He was stinking of hooch.

“No, Thank you… my husband is coming,” I replied him to avoid. In giving reference of husband is necessary if you are stuck up in such situation.

As I was talking to him, I was trying to ignite the engine as well and by the grace of God my car started. And I pressed the accelerator with full speed. I changed the gears from 1 to 5 in no time. I came away from that dreadful place and took a sigh of relief.

Next day, I showed the car to my mechanic.  After examination he discovered that the rings of the engine had worn out and it needed emergent replacing. After the repair of the car in the evening he advised me to part ways with the car and started to give me some offers.

But her offers were skewed towards his profit not mine.

After that scary incident I had also made up my mind in the night that I will sell of this car, but wanted to sell it off on my conditions.  The gruesome experience of the night had pushed me to come out of my emotional cocoon and think realistically and practically.

I had created one slogan for quikr.com in the past. So, it suddenly dawned upon me that why not use it. When I searched more about Quikr, I found out about Quikr NXT app. I downloaded it on my mobile. And it was really helpful. I could chat with all the prospect buyers and bargain in my favour. Within just fifteen days I sold off my car and that was a profit considering the wear and tear it had and considering the amount I had spent on its repair.

After this Quikr NXT experience, now I advise others to sell off their car only through Quikr NXT.

Pampers: A recipe for peaceful sleeps of your baby!

My husband is mostly out of town on the tour, given his marketing job.  So, it is mostly me and my handsome 2 years old prince who have to take care of loneliness of each other. I share with him stories of my childhood, my college days and even days of my courtship. He smiles with his cacophonous bliss to approve of my mischief of my childhood. He is a true mischief himself that is why perhaps he likes my tomboyish stories.

Going through my wedding album at night with my son is a daily ritual. Every day, I introduce him with his grand- dad and grand- mother, his uncle and his aunts. I have observed that he likes me in the bridal wear a lot. He insists on staring at that picture. If I turn the leaf of the album he starts crying. I think that he loves the whole concept of wedding.

I weave stories of his wedding with the shy and lovely moon of the night. He also enjoys staring transfixed at the sight of moon. I keep him ensconced in the cradle in our balcony and he keeps himself lost in the world of moon and stars.  I don’t know if it is the effect of my story that he seems so attached with moon or he has some leanings for astronomy.

I always make it a point that he hears the voice of his father daily. I call him every night when he is away, I put the earpiece of the phone near my baby and he enjoys a lot listening to the voice of his father. And after talking with his father, he sleeps the whole night so well. I wrap him in his favorite diaper and it is only in the morning that I hear his cries.

But once I had encountered a real problem with his sleep.

Actually, once my sister, who had come on the vacation trip to my city with her college group and after her project finished she decided to spend the weekend with me. I was really excited to see my sister after almost a year. She was doing her masters in psychology and had come to the city to do a project on motivation of blue collared workers in coal mines of my city. I had prepared a very sumptuous dinner for my sister. After a very long time we ate together.

I did all the bed time rituals for my baby. He seemed also very happy playing with my sister. But in the night he got up crying several times. I patted him to sleep. Next day when he again started crying in his sleep, it got me worried as to why he was behaving like that. I gave him gripe water thinking his stomach must be aching. But there was no respite in his crying.

It was my sister who hinted that it might be his diaper that must be wet and that is why he was crying.  I touched the diaper from out- side diaper and it seemed dry but when I opened it, it was real soggy.  I changed the diaper but after two hours he again started crying. I again checked his diaper and it was drenched again.

Then it downed upon me that I had changed his PampersDiapers to other brand and that is why he was feeling that way. I asked my sister to look after my son and went to the market and fetched his favorite PampersDiapers.  I wrapped his bottoms in Pampers. And what a relief it was for me. He became a cool dude again by sleeping without crying. Since then I have never changed his Pampers Diapers.

###

My Bucket List: to sprinkle a listless life with some spices!

The throng on the Delhi metro is really crushing. Your muscles get sapped of all the energy by the evening. After being bruised and battered by every hour of the day, when I reach home totally frazzled in the evening, I am informed by my wife that our maid didn’t come today.  It felt like a thunderbolt to me. Not coming of the maid means that today I have to prepare the dinner.

Actually my wife is bedridden for last five years that is why I have kept a maid to cook the food. Doctors have given strict regimen for diet of my wife and the market foods are a real no no given their infection-doling ability. So, today I will have to make the food. It is not that I abhor cooking but after slogging my ass off whole day in office, I need some amount of decent rest. But if I don’t cook then my wife would have to starve and that is not good for her health. When she was healthy she used to cook some very scrumptious recipes for me. We don’t have any child so she made cooking her passion. She had forgotten the pain of being childless in different recipes entailing flavors from Indian cuisines to continental tastes.

After serving food to my wife and finishing my dinner, I sat on my laptop and started trawling through the net. There, I found at ‘www. indiblogger.in’   that the indi-happy hour(sponsored by IDBI FEDERAL) is asking for a bucket list.

Sure I do have them.

Here I outline the five things of my bucket list that I would have done given there is no tension about money:

1)      I would take my wife to the best medical facility available in the world to treat her paralysis. Doctors had told that if I take her to a very renowned hospital in India then she could recover in 1 year, but since I don’t have enough money that is why her progress is taking time.

2)      I would have hired a full-time covey of chefs to cook different types of delicious cuisines. And I and my wife would have been enjoying all different kinds of cuisines without worrying about toiling to cook.

3)      If I had enough of money then I would have booked a full cruise for my wife and should have spent whole year swinging on the waves of the Mediterranean Sea. And I would have booked all the great musicians of the world to play for us the whole year.

4)      If I had not to think about money then I would have made a full length Bollywood romantic movie with my wife playing the role of the Juliet and I myself playing the role of Romeo. I would have hired the Yash Raj Banner to direct and market the movie. I would have hired Mr. Amitabh Bachchan and Hemamalini to  play the role of the parents of Juliet.

5)      If I had enough of money then I would have liked to build a house in the hills. From where I could touch the clouds in its pristine form and rub a piece of cloud on the cheeks on my wife. She really loves touching the clouds filled with liquid.

Now I have to go to give medicine to my wife. Good Night!

###

ASUS ZENFONE : A suitable siren for you!

This valentine, I was on a rebound. So, I decided to be away from all the hustle and bustle of the city and the places which could remind me of my ex. Roaming on my bike, I reached a desolate place situated at the end of the city. It was surely a beach with the setting sun but it was not as famous among the people to waste their time around. Its abandoned look synchronized with my pensive mood.

With the setting of the sun my heart also seemed sinking.  I had never thought even in my dreams that we would ever drift away. But what to do, such is life!

Lying on the bed of sand, I was as crestfallen as the departing sun that was being disowned by the sky. Disowning is not a very nice feeling. I could understand the feeling of the sun being devoured by the sinister sea.

As I was enjoying delving the sand of the beach by my heels lying on the beach-bed, I encountered some obstruction that botched me from delving further.  My intrigued mind prodded me further to examine the source of obstruction.

As I delved further, a packet of cardboard appeared smeared with the marbles of sand appeared.  It was a packet of ASUS Zenfone 6.

I tore open the seal of the packet.  There was a slender beauty ensconced in the packet. I felt enamoured with it.  I started playing with it and its wonderful features made me forget all the agony that I had in my heart.

I am outlining its five features that captivated me like an enchantress.

Feature number one:

Its sensuous red colour and its slender size had me its thralls. I could not help touching it from angle to angle. The forever young colour and design of Asus Zenfone 6 is a recipe of rum for your eyes. You can’t take your eyes off of this svelte siren.

Feature number two:

It has amazing 13 mega pixel loaded primary and 2 mega pixel strong secondary camera. And the lady seduces with its both eyes to a tee. It captures all hues of life and presents you with its utter beauty even if it is low light.

Feature number three:

Asus Zenfone 6 has expandable memory up to 64 GB. It means that it has a very large heart for you. You can repose your all faith and files in it without worrying too much. It will never fail you in observing what you have to tell her in shape of videos or pictures.

Feature number four:

Asus Zenfone is packed with 1.6 GHz Intel Atom Z2560 Dual Core Processor and 2 GB of RAM. So it is not a dumb companion, she is a smart soul. You can play any high-end game or watch any high -quality video without facing any fuss.

Feature number five:

Asus Zenfone has hassle free Wi - Fi and 3G connectivity that let you enter a world full of surprises. You only need to go near her.

So the more you interact with her the more enamoured you feel with her. I don’t think that there is any better enchantress than AsusZenfone 6 to be your valentine!

###

Being at the other side of the table!

Power and position consist of glamour quotient that has seduced the mankind since eons. And that power resides snugly ensconced in a chair. And the crux is about sitting on the right side of the chair.

The chasm provided by a table between the chairs is something remarkable. Within the distance of just few meters the definition of loser and winner in life is defined.

The glamour of power and position has spawned several megalomaniacs in human history, who had chairs.

Some were autocratic rulers, some were eccentric kings. But don’t ever think that the megalomaniacs have ceased to exist like the elves of your grand maa’s stories. They are very much around you and they have the chairs (that matter) and a table placed in front of them.

If you have ever had any encounter with a person who has a position that matters, then you must have got the feeling of worthlessness being at the other side of the table, if not then you must be lucky.

But generally for the poor souls like us, being at the other end of the table is recipe for being taken for granted.

The quality of such people occupying the- chairs- that -matter is that they have oodles of chutzpah to make you feel a worthless, spineless, and insignificant creature on the face of the earth. The rule of the game is that you always have to be in a bleating & requesting tone before them because only this tone can satisfy obedience expecting eyebrows of the across the table dweller.

You cannot afford to show the temerity to correct the wrong. Because the perennial unerring is in front of you and the continual incorrigible is in front of him (i.e. you).

You know that you are right, but can you say so? Certainly not!  Why? Because the system has enshrined some menacing powers in them through which they prove it again and again that it is you who is at fault, not them.

They can roar in the defense of their argument but you … at best can whimper, for you are on the other side of the table. Even if you are right, you have to pander to the not- so- right views of the person across the table.

The sides of the table decide who is king and who is clown. Between the distance and the ends of a table destiny derides and decides the losers and gainers of life! 

###

Quikr NXT is the Best!

It was totally stuffed coach of the train. I was travelling from Bareilly to Varanasi on a business trip. It was month of December but the radiations emitting out of the different bodies had made the ambience very hot and humid. And I don’t want to talk about the ruckus. It was at its peak. I plugged my earphones in both my ears, and immersed myself in the soothing music Kishore Kumar.

After some time I received a call, I attended to it. It was the response of an ad that I had put for my Bike to sell.

But amid the utter commotion and high-pitch of noise I could not talk with my prospective buyer. I tried his phone several times after that but he didn’t pick up my phone. Right from the bottom of my heart I wanted that time that every blabbering mouth went mute. But like every other wishes of mine this also didn’t come true. And as they say don’t change the world, change your ways. So I started to think about ways to how I could change my ways.

After my search, I found out that Quikr NXT had the answers to my miseries and it could enhance my selling experience with its several features. I would like to outline three most important reasons that make an online selling experience a smooth sailing and that make me its biggest fan.

Reason number one:

Man, you can talk with your future buyer with that chat option without even bothering about the ruckus around you. Here you can bargain about the price without attracting unwanted attention from the crowd. There are sometimes miscreants in the rail coaches who can misunderstand a negotiation talk involving the money and can follow you and even rob you. So with the QuikrNXT you are in safe surroundings.

Reason number two:

It is very tough to describe about the features of the product that you want to sell. So the photo sharing feature helps a great deal in terms of cutting down the hassles of making the buyer understand about the real status about the product. For example, if I am selling a book -shelf then I don’t have to bother about explaining the buyer that my book-shelf in not in a dilapidated condition and you please believe me. Now I just share the photos instantly to the satisfaction of the buyer and he/she can take her decision without losing much time.It could happen easily only because Quikr NXT.

Reason number three:

When you make the cell-phone number of yours public, then there are also some irritating experiences attached with it as well. You will get many unwanted calls playing pranks on you. Some will say that it is the police commissioner speaking and some will be the dreaded don. After using the Quikr NXT I have got absolved of all these irritating experiences.

I would strongly recommend the Quikr NXT for all the people interested in selling any articles online.

P.S : This fictional account is an entry to the Quikr NXT campaign at www.indiblogger.in 

###

Garnier Pure Active Neem: A Name that creates friendships!

I used to live in a girls’ hostel in Mumbai. I came to Mumbai in search of a job. Actually, I came from a rural place in Kolhapur. My farmer father was finding it very difficult to keep the pot boiling for the family amid the increasing interest rates of loan, so I decided to move to Mumbai in order to support my family.

I couldn’t study beyond 10^th so it was all the more difficult to find a job that was decent paying. I contacted one aunt who was my distant relative to search a job for me. She searched a job of attendant in a big beauty parlour. But again the catch was that I had not at all ever remotely been in touch with the knowledge of beauty enhancing techniques. But I thank my proprietor ma’am to take me under her auspices to train me.

Now after two years of continuous training, I can say that I am an expert in all the beauty enhancing techniques. Now customers also look after me when they drop in for a manicure or a pedicure.

Now I was earning enough for my stay in Mumbai and support of my family in the village.

Things were going smooth and I was feeling self -confident in my life. 

One day the in-charge of the hostel informed that I will have a new room-mate as my old room-mate was moving out after getting married.

My new room-mate had come to the room by the afternoon; I joined her in the evening.

“Don’t mess with me…don’t encroach in my space…I am not here to make friends, I have left my house to become a model and that is why I have to live in this cheap hostel with a cheap room-mate like you.” She said strait as I came to the room and threw my clothes that were dangling on rope of her side.

I was also not interested in talking with such a pert and aristocrat.

There was always an amount of uneasiness when I entered the room after getting tired of the whole day and faced Miss Hawa- Hawai. We seldom talked that bordered on to not talking even a single sentence in a day.

One morning when I woke up I heard sound of sobbing coming from the bathroom. I didn’t take too much of time for me to figure out that it was Miss Hawa-Hawai. I ignored all human urges to go to the bathroom and at least ask what the reason for her crying was. But when the sobbing became incessant, I could not hold me back.

I went and asked “Is anything wrong?”

“No dear” she said and wiping her tears from her cheeks she started to move out of the bathroom. But I caught her wrist and shouted “you won’t be less sophisticated if you share your problems with me.”

She hugged me and started crying.

“You know I have struggled a lot in my life…I don’t come from a rich family that I show off …after a lot of struggle I have got a modelling assignment and photo-shoot is scheduled for next week but my bad luck is stalking me, see the cluster of pimples on my left cheek,” She said pointing towards her cheek.

Since I had never cared to look her face in detail, so I had never noticed her pimples either.

“Don’t worry about this… come with me.”  I consoled her and took her out of bathroom.

I gave her one tube of Garnier  Pure Active Neem.

“Will it be effective?”

“There are some things that I understand better about in life and the Garnier Pure Active Neem is one of them. I thoroughly trust it because I have experienced its benefits on my customers.” I tried to dispel her doubts.

After using four days of the Garnier Pure Active Neem tube her cheeks showed immense improvement.

I got busy with my work so didn’t really remember about her photo-shoot day. One evening when I came to hostel, my room-mate was giggling. She stood up from her bed and hugged me as I entered the room.

“You know my shoot went fantastic! And that is all because of you.”

“No it is not because of me but because of Garnier PureActive Neem.” I didn’t want to take the credit away from Garnier Pure ActiveNeem.

After that we became good friends.Today ,she is a big model of the advertising field, I have also gone up the ladders at my beauty parlour.

P.S: This fictional account is part of a contest being organised at www.indiblogger.in by Garnier Pure Active Neem

###

The India as I saw it!

Though Indian by roots, I used to live in the United States. And, since my childhood I had heard that India is a country where spiritual awakening is mingled in the air like a lullaby. Everywhere, the incense sticks emit the fragrance of different religions.  Different sages with their magnanimous wisdom have irrigated the soul of this land.

I was very curious to know about the land.

But the revelations that I encountered were a far cry from the serene picture of India that I had in my mind.

The litter was decking up all the places with painstaking finesse. All the Land Rovers and Mercedes were smugly traversing distances by drenching their tyres in the human urine that was just passed out the overflowing tank. All the brand image of these automobile behemoths was blissfully coexisting with the mélange of muck.

I had always been interested in murals and frescos. And in India I experienced a different kind of art form.  Here in India, I saw people dangling their tools out of their pants to paint the walls and that too without showing any inhibition of any kind.

The people were spitting the juice of the betel nuts on the walls to defeat every effort of Pablo Picasso in the arena of art.

I was always of the impression that to get a pout like Kim Kardashian, you need multitude of moolah. But again, I was gob- smacked to know the very cheap way to get a pout like Kim. And the secret was filthy khaini (a form of tobacco).  People usually put it under their lips and suck on the juice of the herb. And after they are finished with it, they spit it out without even caring about the place.

Indian mothers have been given all the respect in the world. They are compared to the goddesses but my experience was a little different. I saw Indian mothers cleaning up the bottoms of their darlings and throwing the poop smeared newspapers on the roads to stick to the tyres or slippers or shoes of pedestrians.

I had heard that India was getting good numbers of managers from their top-notch institutes. But the best management skills I found out in a sweeper of a clinic in India. And the way he managed all the medical wastes was really a lesson to learn. He just threw all the medical waste in open and let the syringes and saline bottles become the toys of slum children.  And those children started playing with deadly toys in gay abandon. When I tried to preach them about the dangers of using the medical wastes as toys, they threatened me to jab with one of the syringes.  I ran frantically from that place saving my posterior.

So, I came to know about the incorrigible err… incredible India the hard way.

###

The truth that brought them together!

Rahul was very excited today. His sweetheart (at least he used to consider her as his sweetheart)  Kavya had consented to come for a dinner at a city restaurant. Rahul and Kavya worked at the same advertising company. They were very good friends. But Rahul wanted this friendship to take to a new level. And he had decided that today he will reveal his love for Kavya.

He had reached half an hour before the time to the restaurant to prepare for the situation where  he encounters Kayva and tells her the secret buried in his heart for last two years.

At seven o’ clock sharp, Kavya entered the restaurant.

“Where are others?” asked Kavya.

Actually Rahul had told her that he was throwing a small party for the salary hike that he had got inviting just 3-4 close friends. And that is why Kavya asked about others.

“They must be coming… we are Indians after all… punctuality is not in our genes.” Rahul tried to answer her question with layers of lie mingled with confidence.

“You say what you will have for starters?” asked Rohan.

“I like only tomato soup as starters,” answered Kavya.

“I also like the tomato soup.”

After ten minutes the waiter served them the soup.

“The interior of this restaurant is quite soothing, don’t you think Kavya?” said Rahul sipping on the piping hot soup.

“Umm… yes, it is quite relaxing… but why others have not come yet?” asked Kavya looking at her watch.

“Actually Kavya, I had told you lie…no other persons are invited.”

“What? But why… may I know the reason behind the lie.”

“Yes there is a very personal reason behind it.”

“Personal?”

“First you order the main course and then I will tell you.”

“No… first you tell me the reason or I will go.”

“No … no... you stay here I will tell you.”

“Actually, I want to confess something to you.”

“What?”

“Actually I have been thinking  to tell you this for so long…I have a feeling for you…I… love you.”

“What? But we are friends Rahul.”

“Yes we are but I want to move to the next level. I would like to marry you… see I find you the perfect one for becoming my life partner.”

“Umm…give me some time to think over it.” Saying Kavya started rising up from the chair.

“ But have the meal at least.”

“No no… I am not that hungry.”

“Shit… what did I do? I should have waited till the main course,” Rahul cursed himself.

Next day he was eagerly waiting for Kavya in the office, but she didn’t come. He tried her phone number but that was also not reachable.

For next 7 days he was restless as there was no contact with Kavya. On the eighth day, he got a call from her. She told that she had thought over a lot on the issue of restaurant night and she wanted to talk over it. 

This time she invited Rahul to that restaurant where they had earlier met.

“You know Rahul life is more than the emotion of love… it has other emotions as well.”

“But I have only emotion of love for you and that too in abundance.”

“But we hardly know each other.”

“Whatever I know about is fine for me.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“What is it that I don’t know about you? I know that you are a wonderful human being and a beautiful personality and that is what I want to know.”

“No you must know other aspects of me as well and I know that after knowing that you think about me differently.”

“What differently? Are you lesbian?” Rahul asked bluntly.

“No no… it is not that… actually I am an unmarried mother of a 2 years old girl.”

“What! … I mean how?”

“I used to love a guy and used to think that he also loved me. But when I got pregnant the demon in him came out and he forcefully took me to doctor for abortion but I vehemently refused. He left me but I could never leave the life burgeoning inside me. So, today I am a mom and I was talking about this emotion. Now I am sure that you will start thinking about me differently. You can call me whore, slut or anything that you want but I wanted to let you know about this aspect of my life. Look this is what I am and I think that this revelation about me has left you befuddled to say anything. I can understand what you must be going through. Anyways I will take your leave now.”

Rahul felt thunderstruck. He didn’t move for a while from the seat.

Kavya was feeling really relieved after telling all about her to Rahul. Incidentally, she had also developed a soft corner for him but given her situation she thought that she didn’t deserve anyone now. Frazzled by the travel of the metro, she reached her home and was in for a big surprise. There was Rahul playing with her daughter and her mother.

“Now… today… before whole of your family, I want to ask you hand in marriage,” proposed Rahul with all drama.

“Look you will always remain my love Kavya your reality will not let me think differently about you as you have wanted,” whispered Rahul to Kavya.

Kavya only blushed in the reply of the proposition.

###