Yeh Woh Jagah Toh Nahi...

Haan, yeh shahar toh ab bhi wohi hai
Yahaan ke log, ghar sab wohi hai
Lekin jisse main kabhi chhod kar gaya tha
Yeh woh jagah toh nahi.

Hawayein toh ab bhi chalti hai yahaan
Magar mere baalon ko sehlati nahi,
Logon ki chehel-pehel aur hansi bhi hai
Par mere mann ko behlati nahi.

Ghar, baahar, ados, pados mere yahaan
Gair toh koi nahi par ajnabi sabhi hain,
Sadakein, deewarein sab jaane-pehchane se
Paraya toh kuch nahi par achanak door sabhi hain.

Fark nazare ka hai ya phir nazariye ka,
Behoshi mein iska ilm toh nahi raha,
Lagta hai aakhir yeh shahar hi badal gaya,
Ya phir shayad main woh nahi raha...

About A Girl...

I saw “Good Will Hunting” for the first time when I was very young and found it a dull, slow film. Recent viewings, however, unearthed spectacularly touching layers in it, catapulting it to the list of my favourites.

One of the best moments in the film comes from the following, seemingly casual exchange between Sean (played by a restrained Robin Williams as only he can) and Will (Matt Damon- thank you for that script!). It is a conversation that suddenly, strikingly exploded into my life once again.


Will: So, when did you know, like, that she was the one for you?
Sean: October 21st, 1975.
Will: Jesus Christ. You know the fuckin' date?
Sean: Oh yeah. Cus' it was game six of the World Series. Biggest game in Red Sox history.
Will: Yeah, sure.
Sean: My friends and I had, you know, slept out on the sidewalk all night to get tickets.
Will: You got tickets?
Sean: Yep. Day of the game. I was sittin' in a bar, waitin' for the game to start, and in walks this girl. Oh it was an amazing game, though. You know, bottom of the 8th Carbo ties it up at a 6-6. It went to 12. Bottom of the 12th, in stepped Carlton Fisk. Old Pudge. Steps up to the plate, you know, and he's got that weird stance.
Will: Yeah, yeah.
Sean: And BAM! He clocks it. High fly ball down the left field line! Thirty-five thousand people, on their feet, yellin' at the ball, but that's not because of Fisk. He's wavin' at the ball like a madman.
Will: Yeah, I've seen...
Sean: He's going, "Get over! Get over! Get OVER!" And then it HITS the foul pole. OH, he goes apeshit, and 35,000 fans, you know, they charge the field, you know?
Will: Yeah, and he's fuckin' bowlin' police out of the way!
Sean: Goin', "God! Get out of the way! Get 'em away!" Banging people...
Will: I can't fuckin' believe you had tickets to that fuckin' game!
Sean: Yeah!
Will: Did you rush the field?
Sean: No, I didn't rush the fuckin' field, I wasn't there.
Will: What?
Sean: No - I was in a bar havin' a drink with my future wife.
Will: You missed Pudge Fisk's homerun?
Sean: Oh yeah.
Will: To have a fuckin' drink with some lady you never met?
Sean: Yeah, but you shoulda seen her. She was a stunner.
Will: I don't care if Helen of Troy walks in the room, that's game six!
Sean: Oh, Helen of Troy...
Will: Oh my God, and who are these fuckin' friends of yours they let you get away with that? Sean: Oh... They had to.
Will: W-w-w-what'd you say to them?
Sean: I just slid my ticket across the table and I said, "Sorry guys, I gotta see about a girl."
Will: I gotta go see about a girl?
Sean: Yeah.
Will: That's what you said? And they let you get away with that?
Sean: Oh yeah. They saw in my eyes that I meant it.


It was a great match, the IPL premiere- stars, pomp, razzmatazz, glamour- and, perhaps first and foremost, McCullum and his 158 not out. A match that everyone I know made sure they did not miss- including me. I think Ananya will forever hate me for dragging her out of office- almost physically- well before the official end of the day and rushing to the station by auto. But that was necessary- I was set to view it at a sports bar on Grant Road, over an hour away from the office. I made it there too, just in time.

If Ananya minded my dragging her there, she will certainly not forgive me when I tell her I didn’t see any of it.

You see, I too had to go see about a girl.

Hope that makes sense, Ananya.

Where Hearts and Minds Meet...

When I was very young, I had a teacher who taught me not to be impulsive. Decisions, he said, should be taken with utmost care and after a lot of introspection. Well, so many years down the line, with enough instances of introspection and plenty of care taken, I have to say- Sir, you were wrong.

See, I am sick of all those SRK films that keep telling you to listen to your heart, and your brain. Frankly, when I think of something, that thought doesn’t exactly come with the postmark of my heart. Therefore, it is quite difficult for me to decide whether the swamp where the thought bloomed was my heart or my mind. Thus, I am never sure whether to listen to myself or not.

Over the years, though, I have realized that the heart and the brain are like two trains that start off at the same station, but while one is going to Ahmedabad, the other goes to Patna. In simpler words, with time, they are bound to increasingly diverge from each other. Hence, if you need to make a decision without any doubts or second thoughts- make it quickly!

Many decisions I spent ages pondering over have proven themselves to be not only incorrect, but also clearly undeserving of the time allocated to them. Hey- when you are at an airport, and have barely a few minutes before somebody very close leaves for months, do the 15 minutes you spent deciding what to have for breakfast make any sense?

Admittedly, I have found that there have been several decisions I made on the spur of the moment which have turned out to be questionable- and extremely troublesome. For instance- in hindsight- the decision to do MBA perhaps warranted more than the cursory 20 seconds I gave it. However, at the end of the road, I am glad that I didn’t allow further thought to interfere with my decision: imagine all the friends, fun and growing up I would have missed out on. Not to mention the suffering- and, as Steve Carrell says in ‘Little Miss Sunshine”, suffering is what makes you who you are.

Whatever a person is at any point of time, is ultimately a result of his or her decisions- and not abilities, to paraphrase J.K.Rowling. In that case, then, I am pretty glad I took some of those decisions.

Decisions I will always live by and hold close to my heart- and my mind…



Decisions taken in an instant, with one vision of somebody on a stage…
Decisions taken at the IHC, sitting and looking into somebody’s eyes…
Decisions taken walking in the dark, aimlessly, cluelessly…
Decisions taken while sitting alone, staring into the distance, seeing nothing.,..
Decisions taken outside someone’s house, with a thumping heart, and a sudden moment of clarity…
Decisions taken at the seaside, holding somebody’s hand, walking with feet flirting with the tide…
Decisions taken in love, with alarming calmness and total knowledge of the storms coming…

Decisions.

Taken in the spur of a moment. Sometimes looming over your entire life.

Moments where your heart and mind meld into one and in one, blinding flash, illuminate your entire being.



I am talking of those decisions. And Sir, they don’t need care or introspection.

Shikayatein...

Ek daag hai mere haath pe
Yaad hai ek chot ki
Kisi ki hansi ki goonj
Aur unko hansane ke zid ki.

Jab thamayi thi dor kisi ke haath mein,
Tab khwaab bun rahe the hum.
Bunaai mein jab gaanth pad gayi,
Toh haunsle bhi ho hi gaye kum.

Jo shikayatein hain duniya se humein,
Humari hi hai aur sambhalenge bhi hum,
Aakhir humara idhar aur hai hi kya,
Sirf thodi yaadein aur aise hi kuch nazm?

Kyun batayein kisiko humein kya lagta hai?
Zaroori hai bayaan karna apne ehsaas lafzon mein?
Unhe batao dard humara hai aur sirf humara hai,
Kyun aur kis haque se unhe hissa de uss mein?

Koi humein idhar kheenche koi unhe udhar,
Thak chuke hain hum ab iss jaddojehad se.
Haar gayein hain hum iss rozmarra ke kashmakash se,
Tang aa chuke hain hum pe haque jamane wale iss zamane se.

Thaan liya hai aaj aaina dekh kar humne
Ab bas yeh aankhein nam na hongi,
Lekin zindagi shayad ab humein chain na de,
Kyunki yeh shikayatein bhi toh kam na hongi…

My Favourite Lyrics... My State of Mind.

Something about songs of disillusionment and pain always ring true with me... Yet no song captures the essence of our temporariness like this song. Sahir Ludhyanvi- God bless his soul- was matchless when it came to pouring bitterness and anger into words- be it this song, be it "Chalo Ek Baar Phir Se Ajnabi Ban Jaayein Hum Dono" or any of the classics from PYAASA.

This song has always been special to me perhaps because I have always felt that me, my writings, my love, my feelings are all extremely ephemeral. Good or bad, high or low, it shall pass soon whether we like it or not. And so shall we. Read the last verse carefully- there's no better way to put my biggest fear.

Aaah. Main Pal Do Pal Ka Shayar Hoon... Aren't we all?

"Main pal do pal ka shaayar hoon,
Pal do pal meri kahaani hain
Pal do pal meri hasti hai,
Pal do pal meri jawaani hain...

Mujhse pehle kitne shaayar, aaye aur aakar chale gaye
Kuch aahein bhar kar laut gaye, kuch nagmein gaa kar chale gaye
Woh bhi ek pal ka kissa the, main bhi ek pal ka kissa hoon
Kal tum se judaa ho jaaoonga, Joh aaj tumhara hissa hoon...

Kal aur aayenge nagmon ki khilti kaliyan chunne waale
Mujhse behtar kehne waale, tumse behtar sunane waale
Kal koi mujhko yaad kare, kyon koi mujhko yaad kare
Masroof zamana mere liye, kyon waqt apna barbaad kare..."

Most Eloquent Expression of Disillusionment Ever...

Jalaa do isse, foonk daalo ye duniya

Mere saamne se hataa lo yeh duniya

Tumhari hain tum hi sambhalo yeh duniya

Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hai...

~ Sahir Ludhianvi... R.I.P.

Of Dead Clocks and Evanescence…

If Ashutosh Gowariker ever decided to make a sequel to SWADES, I will perhaps be the best candidate for the lead role. Born and brought up around the world- with a ridiculous accent and strange mannerisms to prove it- I was always the classic outsider here, trying desperately to fit in. I am also the quintessential urban cowboy, having spent my life in metropolitan centres of this world. It is strange, therefore, that halfway through my MBA, I would find myself wandering around a village, trying to speak Gujarati to domesticated housewives.

As a part of the YI-Net here, I was sent to Telav village to try and coax as many women as possible to come for the Women’s Day celebration that we were organizing. But that is not what this is about. This is about the three little local boys who were accompanying us, guiding us from house to house, speaking to those who were unable to understand us.

While making petty conversation to get to know them better, I asked them what they wanted to become when they grew up- yes, yes, I know, very irritating, very clichéd, but I am not sure what one says to a 13 year old. We had already discussed movies and cricket.

Now, all my life, I have been a pretty directionless, clueless, lost kind of person. So whenever some representative of the adult world decided to develop an interest in my future, I would usually tell them that I had no idea. Which, admittedly, they found strange of a 20 year old. Hence, I felt all the more hypocritical. But I wasn’t ready for their responses.

One, the eager-to-please kid, just smiled, while the other said, very prophetically, “Jo bhi banna hoga, ban jayenge”.(We will become whatever we are to become). The third, the most serious one, simply said “humein aapki tarah English mein padhna hai” (we want to study in English, like you).

The child-prophet was perhaps simply trying to sound smart, he may have only meant it as a throwaway comment, implying that he will decide when the time comes, but it is nevertheless a very strange feeling to have a thirteen year old stranger echo your feelings. He probably had no idea how limited in scope his future might be, given his economic and social background, but here he was, at peace with the fact that he will be what he is to be. I doubt if he got this attitude from his parents- I can only wonder where his thoughts come from. I am not trying to hint at any deep, life changing truths here- I am simply trying to articulate what I felt at that point of time.

What struck me most, however, was the third child’s desire to study in English. Now, when you live in India, you kind of get used to the fact that even though you are paying nine lakhs to sit in an air-conditioned seminar hall, two kilometers down the road hundreds are studying in small dusty classrooms with clocks whose dead batteries have not been replaced for months. In such a scenario, millions grow up wishing to speak English, recognizing the language as both a passport for upward mobility as well as a status symbol. But this child was not content with that. Like millions of others, he wanted to learn to speak English, but that wasn’t the end of the road for him. He wanted to go one level beyond all that. He wanted to study in English. Now, that was a kicker.

I think living in Indian metros somehow desensitizes us to the presence of these dusty classrooms two kilometers away from us, the eager-to-learn students who probably will never get an opportunity to, and all the dead clocks. The existence of millions of such desires sprouting all around us is also something we have happily blocked out of our conscience. Our English medium educations, too, are easily taken for granted by us. It took a thirteen year old and his prophet friend to disorient me- temporarily, of course- from my secure cocoon.

It has been several days since my trip to Telav. In the meantime, I have happily settled back into my wonderfully materialistic existence, surrounded with good food, funny movies and plans of bunking classes. I am not really sure what I have been trying to say in this piece. That we should do something for these children? No, I don’t think so. That’s just a cliché. Certainly, I thought about it, as does everyone else who is confronted with all this, but just like cigarette smoke, it is a fast evanescing thought, prone to getting overshadowed by various other, more immediate issues like what to have for dinner.

My determination to change the lives of these children was lost almost as soon as I came back. Yes, that sounds shallow, but I can live with that. Dishonesty- particularly with myself- is what I cannot accept. I think my only aim in writing all this was to sort out the millions of feelings and thoughts that passed through my miniscule mind that day, and for various days since then.

I have not done anything for those children yet. Somehow, I don’t think I will end up doing much either. Nor will anyone else. No matter how much we try, one day these children will wake up and find themselves alone. That day, perhaps, they will try and become comfortable with their existence, and I will be at peace with my conscience. As that prophet-child said, whatever is to be, will be. Until that day, all he and I will do is wait. Nothing more, and nothing less.

I do not know how long we will be waiting. This might be a good time, then, to replace the clock batteries. Or I might do that for them.

That, at least, is something I can do.