Pinku-Enchanted Life

Its Gandhi Jayanti….(hurray a holiday in the middle of the week and if you can afford to take the Friday off, you got a long weekend infront of you to relax, shop or prepare for Durga Puja too). Gandhi, a much abused in private and revered in public, man. When I was growing up I blamed Gandhi for dividing the country into two and creating what seems like an eternal enmity between two countries. It was stylish to say things like: Gandhi: that guy who spoke of abstinence and couldn’t walk without the support of two women under his arms. Gandhi: who with his blackmailing techniques of fasting didn’t allow any decisive action to be taken and would hold the country to ransom for the smallest thing. Gandhi: who slept with his thirteen year old granddaughter to check whether he has been able to control his body completely. Gandhi much like God was to be blamed for everything that was wrong with us. But now that I am on the other side of thirty and I see the rampant violence that’s engulfing m

Akshaya says I am to do a tag. Like all true tags it seeks to reveal a part of me which may not have been shown so far on the posts I write. I am supposed to jot down my top 5 addictions. Now here is the first problem, just five???? I have so many and to just write about five would be such a mean thing to do for all those others who make my life interesting. Anyways, since I have been tagged there is nothing much I can do but comply, so here goes but be warned this list is not made in a matter of importance: Addiction No. 1: To lie in bed and have a cup of coffee or tea – I just can’t manage to get out without a cuppa in the morning. And yes, it better be good. So much so, that I keep an electric Kettle handy whenever I am alone so that my cup can be made ready without my needing to leave bed. Addiction No. 2: Non Veg food – seafood to chicken to red meat I need my dose of high proteins regularly in order to survive. Keep me off them for a week and like the shorn Samson I lose all m

The doll lay by the side of the street as if left behind by a careless hand. I had almost crossed the site before the fact that a perfectly good looking doll was lying there permeated through my thoughts and I stopped to look at it. I retraced my steps and looked at the doll again. It was a neat little thing in a pink frock and golden hair flowing down her back and tied up with a pretty pink bow at the end. I looked around for any child who might have dropped it. There was no one in sight. The thought crossed that it maybe a bomb, left there by miscreants who wanted to surely hurt some children. I kept looking at it for a while and then my curiosity took the better of me and I picked it up. After a quick check to see if it had any wires or batteries sticking out I dusted off the loose dirt that was clinging to it. Still uncertain what to do with it; I looked around for someone who would be the owner. The street looked completely deserted. Finally taken in by the charm of the doll I dec

Indian Home Maker (by the way never saw anyone question her for saying Indian…have seen many question another blogger for daring to call himself an Indian Muslim) awarded me this for writing on Peace…she was referring to the My God strongest post. Rayshma too deemed me worthy of an award and I humbly accept the same. Being a million dollar friend feels very good (though the financial condition am in am almost tempted to trade in the award for the cash). But I wont cause her friendship is very important to me too. How am I too go ahead? The protocol I believe is to pass on the awards to a few others, but I will desist. I consider all those who visit my blog as precious and I will not be partial by mentioning a few. So I dedicate the Million Dollar Friend award to Peace, the best friend any of us can have.

Kislay wrote about the plight of Biharis. No not of the ones who are illiterate, living in villages or in scores of slums in the cities and towns or even dying in floods. He was talking about the average middle class Bihari or even the upper class privileged one who is forever taunted and haunted by the badge of being of all things ignoble, a Bihari. Most of us when asked where we are from mention the names of our states like Bengal, Punjab, Karnataka or Rajasthan – those who belong to Bihar try to skirt the issue by saying the name of their city or preferably their caste or subcaste. When the state was divided my cousins who had lived all their growing years in Bihar were pleased, not because they had any political motives but because now they would be able to escape the Bihari tag by saying they belong to Jharkhand. Why is one state in the country subjected to so much ridicule? Biharis I am told are cowards, ignorant, uncouth and they speak a language that’s just so ghatti. When I w

Young boys in their early twenties, they came from regular middle class families. Like thousand others they were in the capital city looking for a better education which could lead to a brighter future. They were shot down or arrested one morning, the reason: They were the terrorists who worked under the banner of Indian Mujaheedin. I am not debating whether it was a fake encounter set up by the Police to save face or not. I am also not debating whether they were targeted because of their religion. What I am wondering about is this: How come people who come from regular families, have a decent upbringing and education are turning to such hard line stances? And mind you I am not looking at just one community. I am looking at everyone, minority, majority and across language and state barriers. When we were in school, someone being a Christian meant that you visited them during Christmas , said ‘Merry christmas’ and had the yummy cakes. And during Ramzaan you asked your Muslim friends ev

My relation with my God is special. God is a friend, philosopher, and guide to me. At times also a fellow prankster. I call him by many names and at times that I am really feeling good I even think of Him as Her. God to me is omnipresent, omnipotent and yes God looks after me and its not the other way round. Yes He does expect me to help my fellow beings but mind you my God is strong infact he is the strongest and he doesn’t need me, I need him. The names I call him depend on what it is that I seek from him. When I need hope I call him Jesus . When its patience I seek I call him Shiva . When very tired and looking for more stamina I call him Allah (say the word out loud without any preconceived notions and feel what I mean). When its strength I seek I call him Wahe Guru and when I wonder about his inconceivable powers I think of him as Yahweh (the unknowable). When knowledge is what I look for I think of him as the Buddha . So you see my God has many names and he stays true to each