Khamoshi- silence please!!!

Been going through these random days when people misinterpret what is said and unsaid... Some unknowingly and some with venomous intentions!!!

Also had a very interesting chat with a friend around how "silence" can help relationships evolve...sometimes by acting as a comfort giving factor and sometimes by providing an eerie discomfort...

This entry is dedicated to this friend who not only reinforced some of my thoughts and feelings, but also helped on Hindi words and grammar :-)

Thanx to watching poetry on celluloid today, in the form of Ishqiya, mere andar ka kavi jaag utha aaj... before i proceed on to what i call poetry...my favourite two dialogues from the movie-

1) Tumhara Ishq "ishq", Humaara Ishq "Sex"
2) Ishq mein sab bewajah hai

Presenting before you a mishmash of some thoughts, hearsay, things I've heard and read....embarassed to call it an original for it is not entirely mine...these are thoughts I've heard people share...these are feelings I've felt...

Kuch dil ne socha, kuch zabaan pe aaya,
Kuch lafz kahe, kuch lafz sune,
Is kehne-sunne ke khel mein,
Hamesha thha dimaag pe pakshpaat ka saaya,
Shabdon ko toda, arthhon ko maroda,
Is ulat-pulat ke khel mein,
Saara uddheshya hee badla,
Is saral-jatil ke khel mein,
Asli taatparya kahaan hai khoya?

Suna hai ki jo geet logon ne gaaye,
Unse sureele woh, jo unhonne nahi gaaye,
Kabhi sochta hoon, chup hee rahoon,
Kabhi sochta hoon, nishabd hokar boloon,
Lekin jo mere shabdon ko samajh hee na paaye,
Woh meri khamoshi ko kahaan samjhenge?

Dilli (6)- part 2

"I asked my soul: What is Delhi?/ She replied: The world is the body and Delhi its life."

This one is attributed to Ghalib- have never been able to find the original words in Hindustani, though.

Well, a visit was long due- to the erstwhile Shahjahanabad. They say, when an epidemic broke out in the 1700s, the local hakims advised the people to eat loads of herbs and chillies as a precaution. Thus was born "Chaat"- here- in Shahjahanabad.

The most prominent area within this place is a place ShahJahan's daughter (Jahan Ara) designed- its called Chandni Chowk. Well, technically speaking, I guess, the road from Lahori gate to Masjid Fatehpuri is called that. Some say, its a reference to the junction which was once adorned by a beautiful pool that reflected the moonlight.

Well, been to this place plenty of times. Today, however, was a tribute to the food of Dilli 6. Thanks to Ajesh who suggested this visit.

We stepped out of the chandni chowk metro station and headed straight to Nai Sarak. Well, years back, while I was still in college, visited this road often- for academic books (that my friends were interested in) and some arbit chaat (that I was interested in). This was my first visit though, structured visit, meant only for food- there was no pressure on helping my friends find the right bookshops.

As usual, such places can get me on to the flash-back mode easily. I walked along with Ajesh into nai sarak, toggling between my past and present, the din providing the most apt background score. There, outside the saree shop, stood a cyclist selling malaai makkhan. "Ye kya hai", I'd asked Juhi who seemed a veteran at relishing that dish. "Tu khaake dekh, tere ko achcha lagega", she'd said. Today there was no cyclist there- just the crowd and the din and Ajesh and me making our ways through.

And btw, I loved malaai makkhan.

We walked ahead, and there was the tikki shop of Katra Mahesh- there was a rush there- we decided this one had to be authentic- tried the aloo tikki- mast tha...the chutni was much tangier than what one would typically find in Delhi...but we seemed to agree that woh purani-dilli-waala-wow was missing in the tikki.

As we walked ahead, further into nai sarak, as the saree shops gave way to book shops, my past walked alongside, tugging at my heart more strongly than ever- that shop which sold magazines and books which were as old as the times when, hmm...probably Sadhna's hairstyle and bell bottoms were the most fashionable things in town...

I remember Buzz going to the shopkeeper and asking "compilers ki book hai kya?" and the shopkeeper giving that kahaan-kahaan-se-aa-jaate-hain look. And then he said, "haan sab hain". Buzz gave him the nikal-jaa-mere-aage-se look.

I guess the shopkeeper probably thought Buzz was asking "kum paise ki book hai kya".

Well, this time there was no Buzz and I dont even remember what compilers were. Ajesh asked the same shopkeeper, "George Orwell ki 1984 hai kya?". He said "na".

I guess, had Ajesh asked, "1984 ki filmfare issues hain kya", he may have said "haan".

As we moved on, I was searching for one answer...woh patli waali gali kahaan hai...the gali is so patli that only 1 person can go in through at a time between the two buildings..and that too...at an angle of ..hmm... 45 degrees...slight tilt ke saath...and uske baad there would be more book shops...

I was unable to locate the gali, but, that did not prevent my memory from showing me glimpses, naa, poore scenes from the past...walking in...with Buzz and Pankoo, even one Hugdeep sassurjee...with a thrill...they, at the prospect of finding the books on compilers and more...and me at the prospect of going throught that thrilling gali.

I asked a rickshaw-wala about the gali and he said, 50 dukaan pehle chhod aaye aap. Well, the chaats were waiting for us. So we moved ahead.

The next stop was Shyam sweets and its located where nai sarak intersects chawri bazaar. The kachoris there were yummmm.. now dilli 6 was talking ;-)

The samosas (with gobhi fillings and mutter fillings) were awesome too... Orgasmic burps and satisfied smiles later, we confessed that this visit was definitely worth it :-)

Our next stop was Jugal Kishor Ramji Lal's chaat shop where we had Kuliye. 15 years in Delhi and this was the first time I was having this dish- shame on me who prides on being a foodie. Kuliye bante kaise hain? Take 1 aloo, 1 shakargandi, 1 kela, 1 saeb, 1 amrood, 1 tamatar...shave off their tops...when they are lidless, scoop off the interiors...stuff the vacant spaces with chickpea, lightly fried...add the masala and the lemon juice...and the imli chatni...replace the lid...serve...awesome...mast...and heavy...

The guy who made it said "medium masala lagaaya hai"...well well well...was it spicy...huffffff...mazaa aagaya...

Out next stop "Daulat ki chaat" outside the chawri bazaar metro chowk... hmmm...the yummy malaai makkhan brought back very fond memories of some once-very-close friends...Ajesh commented at the dish..."and to think ki yeh milk froth se banta hai"...some small chat with the seller and he-giving-us-his-visiting-card later, we proceeded toward kake-di-hatti...

As we walked through the crowds in gali lohe wali in Ballimaran, I realised how my body is getting old. I was feeling full...maybe a more-than-stomachful of a heavy late luch, just a couple of hours back was the reason...but still...

We walked past Chaina Ram near Masjid Fatehpuri...marvelled at the namkeen shops nearby and the variety and the quantum of stuff they sold...stood at the chowk there near khari baoli to recoup ourselves... and then strode into Kake-di-hatti for an aloo-pyaaz naan and kadaai paneer...I was reluctant...Ajesh was interested... khaaya humne wahaan bhi...I was glad I could eat atleast some portion of it...

More orgasmic burps later (this time, it was almost like main-machine-thode-hee-hun wala feel)...we walked to Pt. Ved Prakash's lemon corner for the lemon banta...as we placed the glases back, smiled and said "dhanyawaad" to panditjee...he smiled back warmly, folded his hands and said thanks :-) Ajesh echoed my feelings on that one, somehow the best banta I ever had!!!!

We then walked...slowly...tired, but with a sense of purpose to Hauz Qazi to have the dessert for the evening...Bade Mian's kheer... and wow...that was heaven...just awesome...too bad.. I could not finish my plate...was too full for that...

As we stepped out of the shop...the namaz had just started in the masjid...As we walked back to the metro station, couldn't help but feel that this was the perfect end to an awesome evening.....As we heard the sounds of "Allah-hu-Akbar"...I was just thanking God for having created such a beautiful city and such a beautiful place within the city and for letting me experience this creation of his...

This entry is dedicated to my friend Ajesh- one of the most gentle people I've ever met...somebody who can enjoy life so subtly...somebody who can make the time you spend with him so wonderful...

And to my friends, who made the flash-backs look so-so beautiful.

And to the wonderful people like bade mian who make Dilli 6 such a delight.

And to Delhi Metro which has made the place a lot more accessible than it ever was :-)

Dilli 6 rocks...

Dilli- part 1

Kaun jaayega Zauq , par Dilli ki galiyaan chhodkar!!!

When Sheikh Ibrahim Zauq was asked of his plans to go back home to Agra, he responded by saying this. Well, I, like Zauq, am an immigrant who’s almost made Delhi his home- don’t think I’m leaving this place for some time. I may not have Zauq’s poetic skills though- thought I’ll scribble down some words though-

Ye roads, ye galiyaan
Aur unme woh sexy kudiyaan,
Chala main in roads pe,
Sang apne doston ke,
Kabhi hansa, kabhi kabhi roya,
Yaheen apne ambitions ko sanjoya,
Jab poore huey toh “oh-yea”,
Jab nahi toh “sab tha moh-maya”.
College gaya, chai piya,
Propose kiya, Reject kiya,
Accept hua, reject hua, ditch hua,
Achcha hua, kabhi shaayad bura hua,
Kabhi hansta raha, kabhi sab saha,
Job kiya, resign kiya,
Aur fir job kiya, aur fir resign kiya,
Kabhi paidal chala, kabhi blue line pe,
Kabhi chetak pe, kabhi Santro pe,
Kabhi main baja, jaise concert mein tabla,
Kabhi ghussa hua, jaise anda ho ubla,
kabhi achcha laga, kabhi bura laga,
Fir bhi ye shehar sabse pyaara laga.
Dilli badla, par fir bhi na badla,
Aakhir kaun jaaye yaar,
Dilli ki galiyaan chhodkar!!

I might complete this one someday- this was just a summary.

Something that makes Delhi so special is the food here. This section today is dedicated to the food stalls in Qutb institutional area.

I first went to these dhabas in the winter of 2002. Went to Laxman da dhaba opposite IIFT (I thought it was Indian Institute of Fashion Technology). Was bowled over by the Gobhi Parathas and the Tibetan red chilly pickled sauce. I still am. Spent plenty of evenings and nights there…with friends… Every time somebody comes to Delhi for the 1st time, I take him/ her to this gali. There is something about it- the ridge beside the food area, the energy of the students , the romance in the air…kuch toh hai…

While I’ve been out with many a friends to this place, the cake is reserved for one friend of mine (he will also appear in the blog entry when I write about Andhra bhawan)- Simran Shekhar Singh, athva Triple S.

Triple S and I first went there in the summer of 2006. We were regulars there- almost every evening after citi- sometimes traveled on his bullet, sometimes on my chetak 4 stroke… I shall remember that as the place which cemented our friendship.

While I dedicate this series of blogs to the city and its parts, I shall dedicate this to also some great people who made it special for me.

This is dedicated to Triple S, the genuine gentle giant, great friend and partner in travel in many a Delhi adventures..

Aall izz well!!!

Long since I wrote any stuff on films here.

Saw a few in the last few days- Rocket Singh was a waste of time, De Dana Dan was worth watching for about 20 minutes of laughter, Paa made me realise that Amitabh Bachchan the superstar often makes us forget the super actor Amitabh Bachchan- definitely a thumbs up for this movie.

The top prize is shared by 3 movies actually- Let me talk about (in brief) about the 2 mallu movies in the list. Mammootty reminds us yet again why he is simply the BEST in the country right now. In the title role of Pazhassi Raja Kerala Varma, he excels. The film is a class apart- a period drama set in the 1790’s. The direction, editing, screenplay, music and the performances- all superb; and guess what!!! Surprise surprise, Sarath Kumar can actually act.

Don’t be surprised if this is India’s official entry to the Oscars next year. That scene in the song Aadi Ushas-sandhya where all the fighters raise up their mashaals and the king walks into the formation (shot in the dark- natural light of only the mashaals) is perhaps the best scene on the Indian screens since the mirror scene in Mughal E Azam (remember pyaar kiya toh darna kya).

Mammootty also excels as the private detective in Paleri Manikyam- Oru Pathirakkolapathakathinte Katha. This perhaps is one of the best suspense films I’ve ever seen.

The Icing on the cake was thanks to the best film experience I’ve had in a long time. 3 Idiots is undoubtedly the most entertaining film of the year- perhaps, the decade. The intentions of the film are absolutely noble and serious. The treatment is noble and entertaining. The film gets you involved right from scene 1. Well, I doubt if there is any way in which my words here can quite translate my joy of having watched the film. It’s not a doubt- I know I can’t.

I like the way the director has pulled a few legs without resorting to mockery; for e.g., the Hindi spoken by the south Indian character or the poverty scene in one family. The lyrics and the dialogues are superb. The screenplay is the finest I’ve seen since RDB. One of Aamir Khan’s best films; and this is Rajkumar Hirani’s best film yet.

As I walked out of the show, I kept singing the lines from one of the songs- and that is exactly how I felt-

“Give me some Sunshine, give me some rain; Give me another chance, I wanna grow up once again...”

PariWedding

“Main kunwara hoon, Brahmachari nahi”- This quote is attributed to Atal Behari Vajpayee.

I smiled to myself as I sat amidst the hustle and bustle of colourfully turbaned men and (more) colourfully clothed women in a moderately busy bus terminal in Chittaurgarh. This was the time I had to myself to look back at the last three days- fast paced, colourful and mast.

My classmate and friend from MHROD- Parived, the Bhatnagar, was going to become PariWed.

Once more this winter, that flag was at half-mast; that flag that symbolizes freedom and liberty ultimate- the flag of bachelorhood.

Parived was about to walk the path of victimhood by tying the knot.

My train to Udaipur, the site of martyrdom of Parived’s bachelorhood, arrived on time. The martyr’s cousin was there at the station to receive me.

I arrived at the guest house, met the groom’s father- I was surprised pleasantly that he remembered our earlier meeting at Rajasthan house three and a half years ago. The groom came out- dressed in a colourful kurta pyjama- signs of make-up from the previous evening still fresh on his face. We hugged warmly and I was just about to articulate the following thoughts into words- kya tu wohi parived hai jo shaam ko uthke good morning bolta tha- subah ko 8 baje tu uth bhi gaya aur fresh bhi ho gaya…waah…. Before I could articulate these thoughts into words, he said, “Tu jaa, fresh ho le… main abhi abhi utha hun, brush bhi nahi kiya hai.”

Haan, ye wohi Parived hai.

We later had breakfast together and we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of our friend Nish- a.k.a, Nishith Upadhyaya. Nish promptly called to say that he had arrived at Udaipur too (from Mumbai). Parived and I decided to pick him from where he was. Even as Parived drove us both through the Udaipur roads, Nish sent me an SMS- “If Parived is driving, may I suggest you stay back”. Too late- I was already in the car and the drive showed me why Nish was so alarmed.

Driving through Udaipur, Parived mentioned that if anybody could lose his way in Udaipur, it would have to be Nish. I argued saying that Nish had given us clear instructions saying that he stood right opposite State Bank of Bikaner and Jaipur (SBBJ).

In 5 minutes, Parived was proved to be correct. Nish indeed was untraceable. Nobody in Udaipur seemed to know about the existence of SBBJ.

Nish was lost- repeated calls to him and he would say “I’m standing in front of SBBJ”. Pari and I even checked if he had gotten down at Udaipur or elsewhere.

Haan, ye wohi Nishith hai.

We did trace him- there indeed was an SBBJ- the name tucked away amidst huge other signboards that Nish clearly forgot to mention. (to give you an idea, if SBBJ was written in font size 10, the next building signboard- Bank of Maharashtra was written in font size 40. To give you further idea, Pari and I were standing in front of the building and the signboard was so small we missed it. Salutes to Nish’s attention for detail.).

A couple of games of cricket, a few laughs over some ultra milds (naa- I didn’t touch them) and it was time to pull each other’s legs. We gave the event many names- PariWed…Pari (ved) weds Pari (Hindi for angel)…We reminisced about past affairs, talked about birds, bees and women and Nish and I mocked at Parived’s surrender into martyrdom- scheduled for later in the evening.

Love is blind, they say. Love makes one stubborn too. Pari simply refused to accept he was going to be a shaheed later in the evening.

The beautiful evening began. I realized I’d forgotten my tie in Delhi- was forced to wear a suit minus the tie (we actually tried to buy one in the nearest possible place we could have found one- Big Bazar- for the first time since its inception, somebody asked for a tie at Big Bazar. What he showed us for ties resembled the colours of Govinda’s shirt in the “Tum toh dhokhebaaz ho” song – Colourful Rajasthan I thought).

Nish was dressed like he would break into a Ghazal any moment. As we strode royally to the place where the Baaraat was to assemble, Nish, in his niche style, walked upto an arbit pair of uncle-aunty and said “you must be Parived’s parents!!!”

They politely nodded in the negative.

Parived came out- dressed like Shah Jahaan would have been- totally unable to control his happiness that oozed out of his face like milk would from a pan left to boil without turning off the gas. His ghodi was aptly named ******* (name withheld for obvious reasons). I promptly asked if the surname of the ghodi was ******. Pari blushed and brushed away my question.

Throughout the procession of the baaraat, the shaheed was beaming- even when the baarat lost its way- the people leading the baaraat didn’t know where the venue was ;-)

We met another baaraat on the way- watched people dance- ate heartily at the wedding- that Achaari Rajasthani Beans (forget the name- aam ka achaar + beans in a subzi) was out of the world.

Parived ki shaadi pe police na band bajaaya- aur fir army ne.

There was a police orchestra and an army orchestra- and they promptly played “saare Jahaan se Achcha” as Pari tied the knot with Pari. No kidding- they actually played this song- I was missing the song “ye desh hai veer jawaanon ka”.

Now that Pari was tied in the knots, Nish and I congratulated him- still beaming. We walked back to Dream Palace- where we were staying- dream palace.

In my dream that night I saw this friend of mine who long years back was The Special One. Now much married (obviously, to somebody else), she hit me on head and said, “tu mat galati kariyo ye”. I jumped up- only to see Nish snoring in the other half of the queen-bed we were both occupying.

I did not have the opportunity to ask her “Kaun si galati”.

In between attending the wedding, Nish and I also managed to get a dekko of the city of Udaipur and areas around- Kumbalgarh, Haldighati and Ranakpur.

As a fitting climax to the trip, we went to Chittaurgarh. After taking a round of the fort, we came back to the bus-stand and hugged each other to say goodbye. Nish was going back to Udaipur to catch a train and I had to take a bus back to Delhi.

After saying goodbye, I smiled to myself as I sat amidst the hustle and bustle of colourfully turbaned men and (more) colourfully clothed women in the moderately busy bus terminal. The last three days were fast paced, colourful and mast.

I wrote an SMS to Nish (that never reached him btw)- “Years down the line, we shall smile as we talk about the story of Parived’s wedding to my grandchildren, your grandchildren and Parived’s grandchildren. Geet humaari dosti ke, doharaayengi jawaaniyan!! Main na rahunga, tum na rahoge, phir bhi rahegi ye dastaan.”

This blog is dedicated to my wonderful friend Parived and his beautiful wife Surabhi. I wish them both all the very best. May the happiness stay on forever. Amen!!!

The blog is my token of affection for my wonder-friend Nish.

This blog is also a dedication to my friends Sinha and Thaplee- who, had they come, would have completed that picture- of my first few “friends” at MHROD.


Afterglow: Nish took the bus from Chittaurgarh to Udaipur. His bags were packed and he was all set to leave for the railway station when Pari’s dad asked- “ye aaj kaise jaayega- ye jis train ki baat kar raha hai wo Friday ko nahi chalta”.

Pari’s dad was right- Nish got the dates wrong- his train was not for that night, but for the next.

Long live Nishisms- Jai ho!!!

In good faith, I do!!!

Presenting two arbit lines of thought of mine here- these may be inter connected or discrete- I would not know.

Often I wonder, what is it that makes me value somebody or something so much today and makes that very person/ thing irrelevant over a period of time. I ask myself if this is ungratefulness or mere mood instability.

Somebody very close says that the value one attaches to things and people that one values changes over a period of time. I agree.

Yet another very close somebody says that all that is human must retrograde if it does not advance.

Let us explore this further. That Tobu cycle that I used as a kid remains invaluable to me; those clothes I may have used then seem useless. My scooter… a black beauty- a Chetak 4 stroke… was the most precious thing to me, until I bought my car. And then, the black beauty ceased to be as important. I shed many a tears while leaving Thiruvananthapuram; now, I’m not sure if I can ever stay there for over 10 days at a stretch. Some of my very good friends, while I was a kid and then a teenager, are no more than acquaintances now.

These thoughts have been in mind for some days now.

I also realize that I hate any kind of change while the change is yet to happen and expected to materialize.

I also wonder why is it that we so very much are resistant to change. Or anything that is uncertain. A very close somebody tells me, “for once at least, can you trust God?”. What this person leaves unsaid is why is it that we need to be in control all the time. “Why do you want everything to go according to your plan all the time?”…LoL

This thing of not knowing what’s in store for me gets me worried- as a child, before getting the report card; as a teenager, having to decide the career of choice; as a young adult, making a decision on sticking to the same career and shifting to another; as an adult on what I need to do my job or what if my relationship with this girl doesn’t work out;

Agar mere 90% nahi aaye toh main kya karoon; Agar main pass nahi hua toh main kya karoon; Agar is entrance ko maine clear nahi kia toh main kya karoon; Agar is company mein mera placement nahi hua toh main kya karoon; Agar is baar mera promotion nahi hota toh main kya karoon…and the list is endless.

Unhappiness remains, causes differ- says the same very close somebody.

Each time the “agar” came true- there was a jhatka- but life never stopped. There was always a direction and a way that I would earlier not have seen or chosen not to see.

And when I look at that, I am tempted to say yes to that question- for once at least, can you trust God?

Those of you who “know” me “know” why I am writing these two seemingly discrete views in a single blog.

Well well well… I’m leaving it to God this time.

In good faith I do!!!

ek diwana sheher mein

All right, its been long. To those you who have been asking me when my next blog shall be released, here it is.

The writer's block seems to be a thing of the past- for now.

The last 2-3 months have been pretty eventful. Some happy, and some distressing. This one is going to look more like a diary in brief.

I have finally shifted to Dwarka- my parents are likely to join me in the next 10-15 days. Also was on tour to Ladakh.

The last few weeks have shown me some deaths- 2 of my friends lost their fathers while yet another lost his mother. It is in these moments that one feels helpless- so helpless that words fail to come out of the mouth. One stands there- by the side of the one who has lost- and feels helpless- What do I say and What can I say to assauge the loss? However, in these moments, one also tends to forget any negative emotions that one has nursed against the other. Both the ones become one in such times.

Even as I write this, I also remember those words my Dad quoted to me in Malayalam a few years back- "The death of a relationship can be more painful than the death of a relation himself/ herself". During a rather low juncture in life some years back, I thought this made a lot of sense...

I sense and fear the end of yet another beautiful relationship around the corner. I wonder when would I be able to get over the petty constraints of ego, attachment and expectation?

There are those other life giving factors that have made life interesting- a trip to the Triveni Sangam where the Ganga and the Yamuna meet- explicitly and the Saraswati joins them as the Antarvahini (making me philosophize how many times do we tend to ignore/ overlook the Antarvahinis in our lives) and a trip to Ladakh with close friends. (More on these in other travelogues).

Anna got engaged. Parived got engaged and so did Shilpa. Feel very happy for these people.

Some very close friends left Delhi in the last few weeks- to places as varied as Hyderabad and Bangalore and Canada. As usual, it was not easy to say Goodbye.

Life is like that. It is like a river that meanders through different curves- some that you expect and some that you don't- this suspense making life more exciting.

Even as I write all this, there is a part from my past that beckons me- my heart says, listen to the call. If I follow my heart, my life shall see yet another turn that I shall not have expected- even 2 days ago.

Somebody very special in my life often quotes a shloka which talks of the almighty as "Sarvamangala Sadgatiprada" (roughly translated, giver of things that will be good for you and will happen only at the right/ good pace). For once, let me also try and follow something else this person tells me-

"I shall seek not; I shall avoid not..."