kiss of life

Kiss of life
Just saw an episode of ‘desperate housewives’. It started and ended with how different kisses signify different things. They show a husband’s devotion to his wife, a mother’s concern for her son, a wife’s love for her husband, a friend’s love and finally how it satisfies our need to connect to another human being. I am sure the moral police of Bombay would never understand this and would continue to haul young teenagers for indecent act in public if they as much as hold each other’s hand.
Love needs to be expressed and there are various ways of doing it but somehow our society frowns upon any show of affection. I fail to understand it. It’s ok to spill blood, kill people, burn thousands of innocents in the name of religion and express rage, but a show of love is complete no-no.
Is it not the religion, which teaches us to love all, to not differentiate among each other on the basis of each other’s skin color. I don’t know about other religions but I am sure none of them propagate violence.

Media or monster

It’s sad to realize what our news media has come to these days. The number of news channels has increased but the news item has not. Hence our resourceful news media has taken desperate measures
The personal grief of mourning families is flashed on news channels for all to see.
Be it Pramod Mahajan’s injury and subsequent death, his last rites, his family’s grief it was all public property.
What is more disgusting and disheartening is that the Indian public lap it up. We get some kind of perverse pleasure in watching other people’s grief and probably feeling thankful that it’s not us.
The whole episode of Suryanathan’s (the engineer) kidnapping and killing and his family grief was plastered over national dailies and news channel. I know it was an important piece of news, which needed to be reported, but did the poor widow need the cameras trying to get a close-up of her when she was going to pieces.
And when there is a lack of news, they fall back on the age-old formula, film stars
I was aghast to see one of the oldest and most esteemed paper of India had headlines like ‘What Salman Khan had for breakfast in jail today?’ and this was when there was a huge fire in a small town where thousands had died.
I am not belittling them. Far from it. I think journalism is a noble profession. They do the job of informing the whole nation, they can be a cause of revolution. It was the strong reporting of injustice to Jessica lall which started the public movement.
It was there strong take on the ‘Marine drive rape case’, which outraged the public. But it’s saddening to know that some times some of them will stoop to such levels to get TRPs. Selling some one’s personal grief. I am sorry but you cant go any lower than that. Guys please stop. We need good journalism, clean journalism, strong journalism, please give us that.

summer time

Summer time
Good old summer is here again. It’s back to sweaty, sweltering heat and the merciless sun beating down our heads. The heat just seems to get worse every year but that probably our doing….and the threat of global warming is very real. However we do forget to appreciate the few flip sides of summer time.
Ø For one the economy shoots up. The sale of soaps, deos, sunscreens, sunglasses goes up. Not to mention cold drinks, ice cream and bottled water.
Ø There are also fringe benefits without going to an expensive club/gym you enjoys a sauna. And when it starts raining we will have the benefit of steam too.
Ø You actually do the healthy thing and start drinking 8 glasses of water. I think I have reached the mark of 15 glasses
Ø Summer is also good for service industry. Who can resist cinema halls and AC on full blast for 3 hours? There are also malls and restaurants with their super cool Acs.
Ø You save on fuel, as you don’t want to go out in this heat. Yes, even shopping is less enticing
Ø You lose weight. As u sweating even though you are not gymming (and this is just a conjecture)
Ø Mangoes mangoes mangoes
Ø Girls in bikinis (for guys)
So cheer up guys its summer time but the bad news is in mumbai its always summer time…hahahaahh……

Raj and Simran

I always wonder what happened to Raj and Simran. You remember Raj and Simran. The star-crossed lovers of ‘Dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge’. They were supposed to have lived happily ever after but did they. I feel they must have ended up in a divorce. Its not like they had a lot in common. If anything they were poles apart, completely opposite. Where these differences attract in the first place they slowly become the reasons for conflicts and skirmishes
Since childhood we are made to believe in happily ever afters. Right from fairy tales where Prince charming comes, sweeps the princess of her feet and takes her to her castle, where they live happily ever after……but do they? What happens when there are differences of opinions? When there is too much interference from in-laws, when kids come, when there is lack of space, lack of time, lack of understanding, lack of maturity?

Take the case of another famous screen pair, Prem and Suman, the famous lovers of ‘Maine Pyaar Kiya’. Did they have a happily married life? I really doubt. They were from 2 completely diverse backgrounds. Where he had studied abroad, she had barely completed her 10th from the local village school. What did they talk about? Did they not feel the lack of intellectually stimulating conversation?
And now my favorite couple Rahul and Anjali from ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’. Theirs must have been a relationship fraught with uncertainties and insecurities. Did she not keep wondering if he was still in love with his late wife? Did he not keep wondering if she had feelings for her ex-fiancée? After all he was physically more attractive.
I rest my case. Did all these happily ever after couples live happily ever after, or did their romance fade away with time. Did they manage to keep the magic alive or did it die in the rigorous daily routine of living.
I sometimes wonder whatever happened to Raj and Simran…….

A whole new experience

Let me tell you my woeful experience when the fitness bug bit me and I decided to join a new gym. I didn’t know there were rules to be followed before joining a gym. Oh! You don’t know them either let me introduce you to some
In order to belong to a neo-world (what is a neo-world? I don’t know myself) you need to belong to a gym. And mind you in order to belong to an A-class gym you must first belong to a c-class gym, a b-class gym and slowly move up the ladder. Why, you may ask
That’s because you don’t come to lose wait in an A-class gym you come there to be spotted. Hence shed the extra kilos before you move up the ladder
The second rule is you come in wearing designer workout clothes in which you don’t sweat (actually no sweating is a general rule)
Your hair has to be perfect and poker straight (if it’s the latest fashion). Actually I sometimes wonder if ironing the hair means making your hair pump iron so that they don’t move
Unaware of all these social etiquettes I entered the first day in gym pants two-sizes too large and t-shirt three sizes too large. Needless to say I was looked down upon the PYTs ‘exercising’ out there. Actually they were swinging the dumb bells while checking their make-ups in the mirror. I was assigned a bored looking instructor who was more interested in whether her nail polish was clashing with her outfit or not. She generally pointed in the direction of exercise machines (which looked like you needed to get an engineering degree before you tried them out) and scurried towards the entrance when she saw a slightly successful actor entering.
I was looking like a scared duck ready to bolt when another instructor (this one was obsessed with her hair) took pity on me and helped me out
Truly traumatized by such experience I showed up the next day during ladies timing hoping that the instructors would not be too distracted by the hunks (or should I say hulks)
Well the instructors (this time middle-aged ones) were not too distracted. They were simply too busy swapping recipes with bored housewives who were talking more and walking less. Soon the conversation turned to husbands, in-laws, kids and less exercising was done.
Sighing I decided to give up my pursuit of health and fitness. The trauma of the experience however may have left lasting scars on my mind.

The triumph of goodness

Since childhood, I have been told that good wins over evil, and it happened in all the fairy tales I read. The evil stepsisters of Cinderella got their just desserts. Snow- white’s step mom could not harm her. Later in life as I grew up, in all the fictions I read, in all the movies I saw, the same thing was repeated again and again. But today on the 7th death anniversary of Jessica Lal’s murder I am not too sure if what has been taught to me is right.
Because if it was correct then how can we explain a murderer still walking scot free while the fighters of justice die waiting for the correct thing to be done. Or how can we explain the futile fight of Priyadarshini Matoo’s father. Or the very latest the murder of the Indian engineer by Talibans. Terrorism, a faceless criminal who has claimed so many innocent lives. What gives them the right to shed blood? And can we do something about it or are we going to sit and wait for some super hero to come and save us.
Someone who will make sure justice is delivered, terrorism is stopped, murders and rapes are stopped. And do you know who this person is?
It’s us, we the united citizens have the power in us to fight against these injustices. Was’nt it the huge public uproar that got Jessica lal’s case up to supreme court, got politicians involved. But lets not just stop here. Lets make a conscious effort to end evil.
Lets take small steps like stopping a crime happening before our eyes. How many times have we turned a blind eye towards eve- teasing by not wanting to get ‘involved’? but that’s exactly what we need to do get involved. Stop crimes around you. Make sure the area you live in is safe. Raise your voice over issues you feel strongly about. Report all the crimes to the rightful authorities and make sure the action is being taken.
Lets do this because tomorrow it could be one of us who might be victimized if this reign of terror and injustice was not stopped. Lets make sure that we can still read fairy-tales to our kids and ask them to believe in it. Lets hope that we are able to kill this monster called injustice and bring love and peace once more in this world. At least lets keep the hope alive.

be my friend

Be my friend
Hi
Do you want to be my friend? My name is Asha. I am 6 years old. You know what is my favorite past time? Watching cars go by you. Now you must be thinking how can I see cars go by? That’s because I live on roads. I beg at the signals. Actually I have one of the most posh signals in city. I am at JVPD signal. I don’t know who my mom and dad are. The other elder beggars take care of me. I am supposed to give them all the money I earn and in return they give me food. However if I don’t earn enough money, I am not given food those days.
Sometimes, when the big cars come and wait at the signal I peep inside their tinted windows and see beautiful girls with lovely clothes and jewelry. It makes me wonder, why they are there and I am here. Then there are people in the ricks always busy with their mobile phones, acting all-important and in a hurry. They act as if we do not exist even when we bang on their windows and try to get their attention.
Sometimes I get to trade places with my friends at 4 bungalows. There is this huge shop over there. I look at the window display at all those lovely stuffed toys and beautiful clothes and wonder how it must be to be able to own all these things. However when I get to close to the shop the security fellow always shoos me away.
These days it’s very hot, but it’s better than when it rains. During rains we are perpetually wet and since none of us own more than one pair of clothes we all end up catching cold.
Sometimes some people give me their old clothes and food. Once someone had given me her old teddy bear. It’s my favorite possession and I guard it with my life.it’s the only toy I have ever owned.
Sometimes when I look inside the car I wonder if some day I will get to be inside all warm and comfortable. Someday I will not have to worry about my next meal. Someday I will get to wear pretty clothes and play with new dolls. At least I can dream. So, do you still want to be my friend?
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