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| While it bleeds.. I salute the HEROES |
| Friday, November 28, 2008 |
Mumbai, Wednesday, 11/26/2008
It all feels like a nightmare and I dearly, along with millions "sane" minds across the country want to wake up and hope to realize may it all be just a dream. I want to wake up and wake up relieved.
Mumbai, as they tout as "ultimate comeback kid" doesn't want to be decorated with any cliches now. Tired , brought down to knees, it beckons succor.
It always moved on. It never had time to rue and cry for those who are left behind in the frivolous race. Like an enthusiastic kid fallen over, she always stood up, shrugged the dust off and started the chase again. Never, looking behind to see who and what it hit on the way.
Not now, not again, never again. She wants the aggressor this time to be eliminated once for all. Take that obstacle off the playing ground. Make it fair and square.
What a shame! As I write this, my heart skips beats, I swallow my missing breath with concentrated energy to calm my anxiety and anguish, trying to stop prevent my emotions to overcome me- I feel being missed out.
I wish I was there, in uniform, weeding out the elements of animosity, saving lives.
My heart bleeds for the losses several families had suffered and the heroes who died in the fight for humanity. Everytime i see the death toll rising, the anguish mounts. Everytime, another brave young soldier shed his blood and loses its life- I wish I were there.
And here I am , on the foreign soil, cribbing about my promotions and thinking of shifting company loyalties over another thousand bucks issue- i feel ashamed and belittled, a dead stone- a nobody.
What led to the situation is a different story which i just hate to go into or involve into a discussion.
The lump in the throat gets bigger and buoyant.
The country is indebted to the martyrs , and all those little known souls- the bar tenders, doormen, hotel staffs, fire men, marcos, NSG commandos, Maharashtra police, defence forces who showed brazing courage to put other lives above their own.
Could some of them been saved? Could NSG have arrived and handed control faster to leverage their specialized skills rather than throwing police in for rescue operation? Could their be faster reactions? I aint no expert but the thing i know is their sacrifice had filled our heart and the country is indebted. Nothing to settle the account.
RAW may not be aWARe, Intelligene may have failed, politicians may be hand cuffed with diplomacy- who suffers and why? Blame game can continue- but it's high time for every citizen to realize their role , rise over Raj Thackrey's "Mumbaikars Vs bhaiyas", stop talking about "Human rights". Don't miss the polling because weather is inclimant, don't turn blind eye to potential threats just because you or you loved ones are not involved. Educate kids humanity, not religion. There are so many things to do, just elevate the thoughts and see through the smoke in the air- you may find the sun behind the dark clouds.
Tolerance hadbeen stretched enough to be translated into aggression and despise. Let the best brains and experts take control of the situation. Take no prisoners, take no shit. It's a reverberant echo of milions of true Indians who stand united at these hours of crisis.
While the uniform is fighting the black sabbaths, nation is waiting for the ordeal to get over, world waiting to see an end to the bruishing,scarring battle- it's time to rethink what we, as individuals are doing or can do to help make the world a place to live like civilized humans. I shed a tear for the victims , while it bleeds.
Saluting the heroes.........
 - Vande Mataram! Dheeraj Mumbai, Saturday , 11/29/2008 60 HOURS........conquered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Labels: India-the nation, pensive |
posted by Dheeraj @ 11:00 AM   |
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| And I couldn't hold it no more.... |
| Thursday, November 6, 2008 |
One of the most grueling aspects of being into a relationship with a girl is escorting her through her shopping. Well, there are scores of other acid tests and hurdles that one needs to negotiate before he qualifies to be her majestic “Mr.Perfect”.
Pundits and scholars have iterated time and again; there is nothing “perfect”. We, human, take the best path out of the dark woods.
I, for instance catered to my girl’s demands of pretentiousness while she compensated my imperfectness with some generous spending.
She recently got a puppy (Male puppy) and she bought her pink clothing for winters, Poor guy couldn’t communicate its pain, but its eyes were as vocal as possible. Girls seldom understand subtle ways, you have to say it.
Say it time and again. “Good night”, ye, “I love you” – how does it matter to her if you are in middle of cafeteria eating out with group of suspicious men.
If you don’t, you are not committed, and shying of expressing it, effectively meaning – you are faking and have covert, maligned motives.
Once, I said out of in frustration
“Oh, Miss double standards, there are other way of expressing love as well, Allow me sometimes.”
“You…!!” taking the “u” to the end of the sentence and marking the end of the conversation.
Shopping malls have proved bane for men. For they eat (oh really?), watch any pathetic movie with extremely overpriced Popcorn and diluted coke and then go shopping.
It was just that fine day.
Last night, she had talked about her colleagues and a supposedly “funny” guy. I smelled a conspiracy behind this to measure my jealousy concentration.
In an infant relationship, more you measure in your jealousy concentration, closer you go towards that critical PH scale. This scale can be defined as “just enough concentration of jealousy to make her believe you feel and still not enough to transgress her line of private space.”
Like a true flag holder of male specie, I foiled her plan by “pretending” to hear patiently which of course was busted when she re-verified my attentiveness next day by asking the name of the guy.
I parked my vehicle and first stop was this eatery joint. She ordered quite a few and ate, well, nothing if I may follow calculus limits. And, I am sure if she becomes Miss World someday, she would vow to end starvation from Africa.
I had a serious thought of getting it packed and giving it to my roomie and en-debting him for some evening snacks. Though, decided against as I didn’t have faintest idea for how long would I have to carry that around.
I was relieved to be aware that tickets for the SRK’s top Box office grosser for week were unavailable. Like most pleasurable things in life, my relief was futile, she settled for Rush hour and I thought which movie could have been more torturous.
As we came out, ladieswear section was right in front.
“So, what are you looking for?” I asked.
“Mmm,, come na!”
I said “First , I am a s/w engineer, can’t work on vague requirements, need physical, tangible, quantifiable clear technical specifications.
Second, please note that “Mmms”, “naa’s”, “youuu’s”, “ok’s” are not acceptable form of replies.”
My statement was lost in her expectant bliss of prospective shopping.
“You look around while I will go and catch smoke. I always smoke after achieving milestones in my day to day mundane life.”
My sound energy was left unattended and was overpowered by her kinetic energy that was haphazardly pulling her towards all corners of the shop.
She clutched her tired teller machine to show some out of basket of clothes.
The basket would be easily out of capacity if I put in my one suit but to my amazement, it beheld seemingly millions of tops piled and intertwined.
What is this? Just tops”
“Leave, not good. Look , look bags!!” As if a deprived child has seen his favorite ice cream.
Spending quality time with the rack, she gave me clear hints of what she really liked –some pathsala bag and then threw it back.
“Let’s see the top.”
She looked lost like Sindbad on island of gold but she did exude an insinuating aura towards other women as if shouting: I am with my boy friend,you stupid fishes!
Hours passed me trailing her all around the women’s zone.
After stationing me awkwardly against women’s trial room, she appeared like a nightingale every 5 minutes to pose as some covergirl asking my opinion about the top..
While she was in there, I glanced at the prices.
Well, it hardly used a quarter of a meter fabric. Why on earth so much?
I silently slid my hand in pocket to ensure if my handkerchief should be costlier.
Again, the pink top. I was asked to opinionate.
Well, its not shirt /jean/shoe… But gauging her smile spanning her face
“Awesome” I responded.
My body was aching to run away and catch a refreshing beer.
“So done!”. Let’s get going.
I wonder if it was all part of a murky plan to spend more time to piss me off, so that I exhibit minimum resistance paying off the bill.
At the cash counter she lined up to strategically to see bag rack. Reaching the counter salesperson she turned around to tell me.
“Look that bag would go well with this! Isn’t it?”
But leave, its freaking overpriced”
Being a thorough gentleman, I said “No! Buy.”
The plan, however sacrilegious it was, seemed to be working for her.
Bill stated some 1700 bucks.
She took ages to find her purse inside a bigger purse inside the biggest purse. As if she wanted to pay.
“Okie, here you go, I took out my Credit card passing it to the salesperson.
American chivalry, foolish me.
“Mam, 300 more and you get this special card which can fetch you additional discounts on top of regulars next time”.
“Hon, you get your sister this liner and mascara, her birthday is next week, isn’t it?”
“Fine, pack up. I don’t have any card holder place left, you keep it.”
“Sweetu, You really don’t need to do this, ya”
“How well I know, Sweetie! “ I said
“you naa”. She said.
By the power bestowed by god to my teeth and hand, that night , I cut my last Credit card in three pieces without scissors
A week later , I was single and sipping beer with my group of singletons.
Love
-DLabels: Funny Sides of Events, Holy war b/w Man and Woman |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 8:31 PM |
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