One morning I saw…
Husband walks behind his very pregnant wife carrying in his hands a footstool and cushion to make her as comfortable as he can… I suppose. Not a shade of embarrassment…but I think a whole lot of pride.
Didn’t look silly, small or weird to me at all!
The scene took me back to college... there’s a girl who asks her boyfriend to tie her shoelaces because her hands are full of books. Boy obliges, gets on his knee, ties the shoelaces –in the middle of the college campus…and they are off on their way…happy. I on the other hand was sniggering in the background. How lame!
Strange isn’t it, the selflessness that love brings with it? Strange isnt it, how much my perspective has come to change?
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Na(h)...No Again!!!!
When the Washington Post says something about the Nano and I read and nod because it kinda echoes the same thoughts as me, I have to share it with you.
Yes this is like looking at the same issue but with the larger picture in mind... My view then,(though myopic) gains some credibility. Not that I was asking for it.
Here's the link Read on....
http://www.indianexpress.com/story/262144.html
And this is from another article....
The great RT quotes..""I don't think we are boxed into a corner. We never said that it will be a Rs one lakh car, but it was media speculation that we accepted as a challenge. The concept started as a social issue and not as a business or philanthropy. There will be a base model and several variants for upmarket (consumers) that will add up as an attractive business prospect,"
A haughty huh!!
Yes this is like looking at the same issue but with the larger picture in mind... My view then,(though myopic) gains some credibility. Not that I was asking for it.
Here's the link Read on....
http://www.indianexpress.com/story/262144.html
And this is from another article....
The great RT quotes..""I don't think we are boxed into a corner. We never said that it will be a Rs one lakh car, but it was media speculation that we accepted as a challenge. The concept started as a social issue and not as a business or philanthropy. There will be a base model and several variants for upmarket (consumers) that will add up as an attractive business prospect,"
A haughty huh!!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Na(h)..No
So, the bear-like Ratan Tata unveiled the Nano–finally. Poor man stuffed in a Nano. I felt sorry for him, his discomfort was palpable. What an ordeal to fit that bear like frame into the matchbox. I know he couldn’t wait to get out. I for one want the car to explode. I hope none are killed in the process, but seriously the car should explode… all the cars of the first batch should… actually. Then production should be halted and they should disappear into oblivion…the single windscreen wiper and all. I hope I pray I beg.
Now here... don’t get me wrong I am not part of the bourgeois…trying to keep all 4-wheelers for my class! But the 1lakh mini car…I can’t bring myself to agree with. Have you seen our roads…. if you have, then you will know why this is such an issue for me to deal with. You see, I travel about 40 km a day. Going from home to where I work. It is a pretty long route and to make it even worse the traffic, the roads and the mish mash they create, makes me tear my hair out with anger, grief and a million other emotions. Imagine… in place of the 50 million two wheelers that clamour for space on the ideal Pune road… we’ll now have 50 million little Nanos… like a tram car all lined up one behind the other… honking spouting fumes… breaking signals… crossing over dividers… and…
I believe it was Ratan Tata’s grandfather who foresaw that Mumbai wouldn’t be able to contain its own people one day. He urged the construction of flyovers and the transport system. I have always admired the man ( RT) btw… but really now the heart is brokem.
When you reduce the cost of a commodity… then you also reduce its value. More people buy the car making the Tatas richer by a few crores. Yes, and then what of the petrol consumption…it sky rockets…and aren’t we busy haggling with the US and Iran…well who cares? What about our infrastructure? Are we equipped to handle an influx of a few thousand Nanos? What about whether we as a people are mature enough to actually use the road sense we have? I mean I can’t believe that men who are touted as visionaries… who are probable candidates for presidency (some news channel) lack this vision… I mean Mr. Tata what are were the reasons? (other than the moolah of course). Couldn’t you use your research department to come up with something noteworthy like a car that runs on plastic… or sunlight?
We don’t let a 14 year old drive do we even though he is dying to …we realize he isn’t mature enough to hit the road right? I agree we are not the people to judge whether the population here is immature or not… but still…
And Mr. Tata…I’m happy that you looked uncomfortable in the Nano because that’s how uncomfortable I will be after the reality of the Nano hits us…
Now here... don’t get me wrong I am not part of the bourgeois…trying to keep all 4-wheelers for my class! But the 1lakh mini car…I can’t bring myself to agree with. Have you seen our roads…. if you have, then you will know why this is such an issue for me to deal with. You see, I travel about 40 km a day. Going from home to where I work. It is a pretty long route and to make it even worse the traffic, the roads and the mish mash they create, makes me tear my hair out with anger, grief and a million other emotions. Imagine… in place of the 50 million two wheelers that clamour for space on the ideal Pune road… we’ll now have 50 million little Nanos… like a tram car all lined up one behind the other… honking spouting fumes… breaking signals… crossing over dividers… and…
I believe it was Ratan Tata’s grandfather who foresaw that Mumbai wouldn’t be able to contain its own people one day. He urged the construction of flyovers and the transport system. I have always admired the man ( RT) btw… but really now the heart is brokem.
When you reduce the cost of a commodity… then you also reduce its value. More people buy the car making the Tatas richer by a few crores. Yes, and then what of the petrol consumption…it sky rockets…and aren’t we busy haggling with the US and Iran…well who cares? What about our infrastructure? Are we equipped to handle an influx of a few thousand Nanos? What about whether we as a people are mature enough to actually use the road sense we have? I mean I can’t believe that men who are touted as visionaries… who are probable candidates for presidency (some news channel) lack this vision… I mean Mr. Tata what are were the reasons? (other than the moolah of course). Couldn’t you use your research department to come up with something noteworthy like a car that runs on plastic… or sunlight?
We don’t let a 14 year old drive do we even though he is dying to …we realize he isn’t mature enough to hit the road right? I agree we are not the people to judge whether the population here is immature or not… but still…
And Mr. Tata…I’m happy that you looked uncomfortable in the Nano because that’s how uncomfortable I will be after the reality of the Nano hits us…
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
In Flight
In the course of one of my extensive travels, the unseen power of my mind pushed me to explore a newer different coloured land of red mud and berries. Yes, it was here that I would gain a new perspective on flight. The flight of imagination and... well mine.
So, you sign your name on the notepad in scratchy writing…the boys that accompany you do not. I guess their tummies begin to churn just a little. But let’s not get condescending now. The adventurous woman has to move forward. They put me into an adult baby carrier and place a helmet on my head.
‘Be careful,’ says a soul from behind me. Right hand forward...teary-eyed and all.
“If anything happens to me, tell me you will live on... go on and marry that peaches and cream girl across the border.” I reply with equal melodrama.
The wings are brought on… I choose the bright orange ones. What’s the point of flying if no one sees you eh?
“Two men collided into each other. Their wings got locked and they hurtled together into the abyss. They flew their last flight in unison,“ says a bystander.
Suddenly, hands clutch me from behind.
“Don’t do this. You still have a chance. What foolishness!! We aren’t meant for flight, we are mere bipeds, confined to the surface of the earth. No nooo nooo.
The tragic hero(ine) in me rises. “I’d rather die in flight,” I say, ”how better that is, than to die old and ugly in a bed of white linen, surrounded by rare tonics and the sickening sweet smell of partially rotting flowers. And then the girl across the border… isn’t she a better match for you. She comes with six acres of farmland. Imagine how much opium poppy you can grow?”
The hands loosen their grip.
I don’t know whether it was the utter exasperation of trying to change the mind of a bull, the lust of the girl across the border, the visual impact of the farmland, or the reminder of the high that opium brings. Anyway with those impediments out of my way, I march forward.
A man attaches himself to my wings because I don’t know how to operate them.
“You’ll have to run off the cliff,” he says. I nod.
We begin our run. It’s wonderful. I am running, looking at my feet. Left foot on red mud… right foot on red mud, left foot on red mud… right foot on red mud…. Left foot on red mud…. right foot on re…no on nothing… on air.
My first step on air and I am yanked upwards. I am flying. I feel nothing, not the weight of my heavier lower half nor the starkly contrasting weight of the lighter upper half. Nothing… pure nothing…weightless nothing. The initial excitement begins to wear off, the ants on the ground I can now see. The green tattoo on the mount I now see. The colour of its skin contrasting the myriad shades of green, creating a pattern for only those in flight to see. Hey what’s that white and black thing? Its moving…a gau (cow). Oh my!!! So tiny. Exhilaration at its best!
“The wind’s dropping,” he says from behind.
“What?” I ask.
“We aren’t going to make it back to the hilltop,” he says. Do you want to do some tricks while we still have the time? We’ll go down faster…but it might be a little scary… for a girl that is.”
Scary for a girl. I’ll show you MCP. And if your going down the faster the better right? Less time to imagine yourself hurtling down into a rocky chasm and virtually feeling the impact of jagged rocks on the tender flesh of different parts of the body.
“Go ahead” I said in a voice that (I thought) reeked of indifference and confidence, “I’m not scared off easily.”
We proceeded, then, to do stomach churning flippy things…and yes we did fall faster.
“Do u want to crash into that tree there?” He asked.
Want? Yeah right, lynched to death. Exactly what I’ve prayed for all my life! Oh my! It’s a giant thorn tree so I’ll be scratched beyond recognition.
“I want to die pretty”, I said... “find a better spot”.
He laughs “We’ll land beside it then.”
Isnt there a water body close by?” I ask. “That would cushion us a little”.
“Well, there is, but we don’t have enough air to carry us there. The field will have to do. Raise both your legs up and land on your er… er… seat,” He says.
Hmm... interesting line of instruction. So contrary to popular opinion my last thoughts on earth were not nostalgic ones of family, friend, lover or enemy. Neither did I see my whole life flash in front of me in those split seconds. There were thoughts of perverseness. But then, I always knew that I was made of different clay or mud or whatever it is that humans are made of!
We land in the middle of the field. A cow bears witness. The farmer and his brigade of small boys can be seen running towards us in the distance. I live…to write this.
Strange isn’t it, we begin our flight to take us higher than we already are; we begin our flight to newer heights, not content with the altitude we are at. Sometimes we soar for a few moments and then land smack in the middle of another level a little lower than what we were originally at.
But then a few minutes of flight are well worth the arduous walk upwards!
So, you sign your name on the notepad in scratchy writing…the boys that accompany you do not. I guess their tummies begin to churn just a little. But let’s not get condescending now. The adventurous woman has to move forward. They put me into an adult baby carrier and place a helmet on my head.
‘Be careful,’ says a soul from behind me. Right hand forward...teary-eyed and all.
“If anything happens to me, tell me you will live on... go on and marry that peaches and cream girl across the border.” I reply with equal melodrama.
The wings are brought on… I choose the bright orange ones. What’s the point of flying if no one sees you eh?
“Two men collided into each other. Their wings got locked and they hurtled together into the abyss. They flew their last flight in unison,“ says a bystander.
Suddenly, hands clutch me from behind.
“Don’t do this. You still have a chance. What foolishness!! We aren’t meant for flight, we are mere bipeds, confined to the surface of the earth. No nooo nooo.
The tragic hero(ine) in me rises. “I’d rather die in flight,” I say, ”how better that is, than to die old and ugly in a bed of white linen, surrounded by rare tonics and the sickening sweet smell of partially rotting flowers. And then the girl across the border… isn’t she a better match for you. She comes with six acres of farmland. Imagine how much opium poppy you can grow?”
The hands loosen their grip.
I don’t know whether it was the utter exasperation of trying to change the mind of a bull, the lust of the girl across the border, the visual impact of the farmland, or the reminder of the high that opium brings. Anyway with those impediments out of my way, I march forward.
A man attaches himself to my wings because I don’t know how to operate them.
“You’ll have to run off the cliff,” he says. I nod.
We begin our run. It’s wonderful. I am running, looking at my feet. Left foot on red mud… right foot on red mud, left foot on red mud… right foot on red mud…. Left foot on red mud…. right foot on re…no on nothing… on air.
My first step on air and I am yanked upwards. I am flying. I feel nothing, not the weight of my heavier lower half nor the starkly contrasting weight of the lighter upper half. Nothing… pure nothing…weightless nothing. The initial excitement begins to wear off, the ants on the ground I can now see. The green tattoo on the mount I now see. The colour of its skin contrasting the myriad shades of green, creating a pattern for only those in flight to see. Hey what’s that white and black thing? Its moving…a gau (cow). Oh my!!! So tiny. Exhilaration at its best!
“The wind’s dropping,” he says from behind.
“What?” I ask.
“We aren’t going to make it back to the hilltop,” he says. Do you want to do some tricks while we still have the time? We’ll go down faster…but it might be a little scary… for a girl that is.”
Scary for a girl. I’ll show you MCP. And if your going down the faster the better right? Less time to imagine yourself hurtling down into a rocky chasm and virtually feeling the impact of jagged rocks on the tender flesh of different parts of the body.
“Go ahead” I said in a voice that (I thought) reeked of indifference and confidence, “I’m not scared off easily.”
We proceeded, then, to do stomach churning flippy things…and yes we did fall faster.
“Do u want to crash into that tree there?” He asked.
Want? Yeah right, lynched to death. Exactly what I’ve prayed for all my life! Oh my! It’s a giant thorn tree so I’ll be scratched beyond recognition.
“I want to die pretty”, I said... “find a better spot”.
He laughs “We’ll land beside it then.”
Isnt there a water body close by?” I ask. “That would cushion us a little”.
“Well, there is, but we don’t have enough air to carry us there. The field will have to do. Raise both your legs up and land on your er… er… seat,” He says.
Hmm... interesting line of instruction. So contrary to popular opinion my last thoughts on earth were not nostalgic ones of family, friend, lover or enemy. Neither did I see my whole life flash in front of me in those split seconds. There were thoughts of perverseness. But then, I always knew that I was made of different clay or mud or whatever it is that humans are made of!
We land in the middle of the field. A cow bears witness. The farmer and his brigade of small boys can be seen running towards us in the distance. I live…to write this.
Strange isn’t it, we begin our flight to take us higher than we already are; we begin our flight to newer heights, not content with the altitude we are at. Sometimes we soar for a few moments and then land smack in the middle of another level a little lower than what we were originally at.
But then a few minutes of flight are well worth the arduous walk upwards!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
On My Way
A vortex they form-white mists...cold. I see them through the glass and I know I'm on my way. I pass them...do they speak? Wisps of whiteness outside my window and I sail through it all. An enchanted forest to my right i see... with pixies and witches and goblins and fairies. These creatures i dare not see or they would burst into dust. They are definitely there, carefully hidden from this eye.
The house that haunts (or do I haunt it?) ...I pass... and then the lights..three mainly... they order, we obey... he he we are lorded over by the lights... What an evolved species we are! The universe speaks they say in symbols in glimpses your mind should make sense of it all. Pray then tell me if this makes any sense?
Car doors on tinned rooftops-a rainbow?, table fans on a dusty table ..some bladeless...huddled together like sheep sheltering themselves from the cold blasts of air which I artfully evade. Creatures that walk on four legs and others that balance precariously on two. A sense of urgency I see in all of them-to be somewhere and no remote idea where that is. Metal sheets-mimicing the the wave pattern of the sea, shielding eyeless, earless, souless things. From whom-Me - the so(u)l(e)d? hahahaha..
Black asphalt carpets for me to glide on. Monsters there are here too mostly grey and evolving. Grey truckloads of dust create them... shields of glass then cover the grey nakedness, some have gigantic and ugly red overalls and fake sinister smiles rendering them uglier.
There is a sound now streaming into my mind it's catchy and known and feel good, but then its drowning the sounds of my mind.
I resist
Oh and then I glance upon my hill... my fortress-the only pretty thing I see.
Her finger rotates the disc and the noises are louder...My defences are swept away by tunes. Which piper is this? No. 983
I hum along with 983 the shreds of cotton disappear... I enter the grey dungeon. The mind is numbed....
The house that haunts (or do I haunt it?) ...I pass... and then the lights..three mainly... they order, we obey... he he we are lorded over by the lights... What an evolved species we are! The universe speaks they say in symbols in glimpses your mind should make sense of it all. Pray then tell me if this makes any sense?
Car doors on tinned rooftops-a rainbow?, table fans on a dusty table ..some bladeless...huddled together like sheep sheltering themselves from the cold blasts of air which I artfully evade. Creatures that walk on four legs and others that balance precariously on two. A sense of urgency I see in all of them-to be somewhere and no remote idea where that is. Metal sheets-mimicing the the wave pattern of the sea, shielding eyeless, earless, souless things. From whom-Me - the so(u)l(e)d? hahahaha..
Black asphalt carpets for me to glide on. Monsters there are here too mostly grey and evolving. Grey truckloads of dust create them... shields of glass then cover the grey nakedness, some have gigantic and ugly red overalls and fake sinister smiles rendering them uglier.
There is a sound now streaming into my mind it's catchy and known and feel good, but then its drowning the sounds of my mind.
I resist
Oh and then I glance upon my hill... my fortress-the only pretty thing I see.
Her finger rotates the disc and the noises are louder...My defences are swept away by tunes. Which piper is this? No. 983
I hum along with 983 the shreds of cotton disappear... I enter the grey dungeon. The mind is numbed....
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