Hey guys, check out this site. It defines the kind of music you like in an objective manner. I never wondered that it would be possible, but this is pretty cool.
http://www.pandora.com
Monday, December 12, 2005
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Religions and the roles they play
I have had this theory for a long time about the purpose of religion and the existence of the concept of God. I wanted to put my thoughts down in words in order to gain clarity for myself and to explain my point of view to others. You may agree with me or completely find my theories ridiculous. Nonetheless, I ask you to contribute your views on the subject.
Man's edge over other mammals was his ability to think and reason. As soon as he gained this ability, he used it to question everything around him, to understand the world better, to gain control over it. He understood the role the animals and plants around him played in the nourishment and wellness of his family. And once he learnt the art of agriculture and moved away from the hunter-gatherer form of existence, he understood the role that the winds and rains and the earth played in his life. The more he understood of the role these entities played in his life, the more he revered and respected them. Concurrently he also made the move of seeing them as individual entities i.e. the animals, trees, winds, etc. to looking at them in a single form - nature.
The more he learnt about the role nature played in his life, the more he revered it. And in approximately 2500 B.C.E. he even made efforts to anthropomorphize nature by giving it a human form and names like 'Pashupathi' (a god of the people of the Indus Valley Civilization known to be the predecessor of 'Shiva'). This was a good strategy because it allowed everyone in the society to put a 'face' to the things that influenced them, the things they depended upon for food, clothing, medicines and basic survival. Further, by having ascribed human characteristics to nature, they were now able to understand the acts of nature in terms of the characteristics of a person. For instance if there was thundering and lightening, a very frightening event for children, their parents were able to simply explain to them saying that Pashupathi was angry at something. Or, if there was a drought, famine or disease, Pashupathi was punishing them. And in times of plenty, Pashupathi was happy with them.
On an unconscious level, by ascribing human characteristics, the people also had began to believe that it was possible to influence Pashupathi to change his ways, that it was possible for them to ask in a particular way and make him do things that were in their favor. So great was man's need to influence everything around him (he had learnt farming and to make plants grow according to his needs , domesticated animals and made them do his laborious tasks and built houses and learnt to control the weather) that he delved into it trying to figure out how this was possible. After understanding something, we try to control it - it's very basic human nature, it's in our blood.
So just as one would rationalize with another human, man began to request Pashupathi for favors in the form of simple requests, but as man was experimenting this idea, it might have evolved to requests placed in solitude and in full concentration (today's prayers). A chance occurance where a prayer was requested and the prayer was "answered" might have sparked off a wide-spread belief in it - to find the logic behind it, think of the greatest legal scam on earth - the lottery or a casino. And when it didn't work, it was rationalized with "you're not doing it correctly", or "you're not doing it with enough faith", or "you have to ask it with a pure heart", all of which were reasonable explanations to the lesser evolved minds of the time.
The concept grew further and further with the help of 'specialists' until the priests had an esoteric solution to every conceivable problem that man could face. The prayers also became specific, for instance, if you were not able to conceive a child, you were to do a set of tasks (however helpful or not they were) and your problem would be solved.
Though science grew side-by-side and began to explain things within the realms of understanding, there were ample unknowns that remained, and still remains even to this day. It is therefore not surprising that we still 'believe'.
I'm sorry that this has such a 'plausible' feel to it rather than being based on facts. I believe it is only by theorizing that we can gain a direction to research and find the facts. It's much harder to do when you have no direction. Anyway, it is a logical progression in my mind. Please post your thoughts and comments.
Man's edge over other mammals was his ability to think and reason. As soon as he gained this ability, he used it to question everything around him, to understand the world better, to gain control over it. He understood the role the animals and plants around him played in the nourishment and wellness of his family. And once he learnt the art of agriculture and moved away from the hunter-gatherer form of existence, he understood the role that the winds and rains and the earth played in his life. The more he understood of the role these entities played in his life, the more he revered and respected them. Concurrently he also made the move of seeing them as individual entities i.e. the animals, trees, winds, etc. to looking at them in a single form - nature.
The more he learnt about the role nature played in his life, the more he revered it. And in approximately 2500 B.C.E. he even made efforts to anthropomorphize nature by giving it a human form and names like 'Pashupathi' (a god of the people of the Indus Valley Civilization known to be the predecessor of 'Shiva'). This was a good strategy because it allowed everyone in the society to put a 'face' to the things that influenced them, the things they depended upon for food, clothing, medicines and basic survival. Further, by having ascribed human characteristics to nature, they were now able to understand the acts of nature in terms of the characteristics of a person. For instance if there was thundering and lightening, a very frightening event for children, their parents were able to simply explain to them saying that Pashupathi was angry at something. Or, if there was a drought, famine or disease, Pashupathi was punishing them. And in times of plenty, Pashupathi was happy with them.
On an unconscious level, by ascribing human characteristics, the people also had began to believe that it was possible to influence Pashupathi to change his ways, that it was possible for them to ask in a particular way and make him do things that were in their favor. So great was man's need to influence everything around him (he had learnt farming and to make plants grow according to his needs , domesticated animals and made them do his laborious tasks and built houses and learnt to control the weather) that he delved into it trying to figure out how this was possible. After understanding something, we try to control it - it's very basic human nature, it's in our blood.
So just as one would rationalize with another human, man began to request Pashupathi for favors in the form of simple requests, but as man was experimenting this idea, it might have evolved to requests placed in solitude and in full concentration (today's prayers). A chance occurance where a prayer was requested and the prayer was "answered" might have sparked off a wide-spread belief in it - to find the logic behind it, think of the greatest legal scam on earth - the lottery or a casino. And when it didn't work, it was rationalized with "you're not doing it correctly", or "you're not doing it with enough faith", or "you have to ask it with a pure heart", all of which were reasonable explanations to the lesser evolved minds of the time.
The concept grew further and further with the help of 'specialists' until the priests had an esoteric solution to every conceivable problem that man could face. The prayers also became specific, for instance, if you were not able to conceive a child, you were to do a set of tasks (however helpful or not they were) and your problem would be solved.
Though science grew side-by-side and began to explain things within the realms of understanding, there were ample unknowns that remained, and still remains even to this day. It is therefore not surprising that we still 'believe'.
I'm sorry that this has such a 'plausible' feel to it rather than being based on facts. I believe it is only by theorizing that we can gain a direction to research and find the facts. It's much harder to do when you have no direction. Anyway, it is a logical progression in my mind. Please post your thoughts and comments.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Bijli
With the caveat that I got 53% in my 10th Standard Hindi exam (the year that my school had a record number of students scoring more than 90% in Hindi), and that only I get my jokes (fortunate, that), here is Ustaad's next adventure:
Har izzeddaar shayar ke jaise Ustaad bhi side mein kuch lafda chala rahe the. Bijli naam ki ek ladki ke saat. Bijli ek izzeddaar ladki thi, jo izzeddaar ladkiyon ke tarah kisi izzeddaar aadmi se kab ki ek izzat ki shaadi kar leti, par uske sar par ek badthi bald spot ne us naubat ko goli maarke rakkha tha. Woh jabbhi haircut karwane ko jaathi tho naai pocchthi, “Kya bolte hai aap, aapke taangon se kaatke, kuch baal aapke sar par chipka doon?” Naai ko tip nahin milta, par woh is nazaaren ko dekhna kaafi samajthe the.
Ustaad andhe nahin the. Par unko pata nahin tha. Bijli, kayeen saalon ke experience se apne sar ke peeche ki bald spot ko chupaane mein kaafi maahir ho gayi thee. Waise dekhe tho, Ustaad ke begum ke baaju koi langdi, kaane ya lulli bhi chaand ke tukde lagne lage, par Bijli utni bhi gayi guzri nahin thi. Waqai, Ustaad Bijli par marte the, aur lambi, lambi prem ke kavita uske naam likha karte.
Bijli in cheejon se kaafi khush thee, par woh apni haisiyat se khush nahin thi. Jab bhi Ustaad jasoos bhainson se jaan bachake Bijli ko visit karte, woh us shyaam mein ek na ek baar shaadi ki baat ko ched dethi.
“Aji, kya bolte hai aap? Hamaari shaadi kab hogi?” Bijli poochthi, bed par lete, ek gulaabi chudidaar pehne. Usko apne badti bald spot ki phikar thi; na jaane kab band kabootar gutur-goon karne lag jaaye?
Ustaad unko kuch doobe doobe, surme waale aankhon se dekhthe, aur “Haan haan, jaldi!” bolke chup ho jaate. Apne talaak – aur subsequent maut – ke baare mein sochthe. Unko Bijli ki badthi bald spot ki koi phikar nahin thi.
“Such?” Bijli khush ho kar poochthi. Usko unke maut ki koi phikar nahin thi.
Ek din yeh baar baar poochna aur baar baar jhoot bolna Ustaad ke seeme se baahar ho gaya. Ustaad Bijli ko dekhe, aur pyaar se pooche “Ek kavita likha hoon, sunegi?”
Pyaar se Bijli boli, “Nahin”.
Ustaad us nahin ko haan samajhke apni dil ki baat keh daali:
“Labzon se bole nahin jaate,
Dil ke har baat,
Aankhon se nahin nikalte,
Dil ke har aansoon.
Majboori is duniya ki reet hai,
Preet, is dil ki khwaaish,
Shaadi Moti se ho chuki hai,
Pyaar tumse hai naajaayiz.
Hataana chahta hoon main is naqaab,
Hakikat mein chahta hoon main jeena,
Chutkaara chahta hoon shaadi se memsaahb,
Milegi chutkaara sirf zindagi se, tum dekhna.
Rangeen ho jayenge uske haat,
Pairon se thod degi mera dil,
Bikhar jaayegi meri ruuh,
Tadpedi (ruuh) qayamat aane till.
Manzoor hota mujhe yeh taqdeer bhi,
Agar utne mein chodthi mujhe woh Moti,
Dafnane ke baad nachegi woh kabr par,
Baynd baaja bulaake woh bhi!
Pyaar kiya hai tumhi se,
Par samjho meri majbooriyan,
Pyaar karoonga main tumhi se,
Par rakhon doori darmiyaan!”
Bijli yeh kavita sunte hee phoot phoot kar rone lagi. Woh melodramatic tarah se cheekne chillane bhi lagi: “Nahin! Taqdeer mujhe phir se dhokha nahin de sakti!” Ustaad usko nihaare aur namr swar me bole “Abbe, kyoon nahin?” Bijli unko nihaari aur aankh baboola ho gayi. Ustaad yeh sab signs ko achchi tarah pehchaante the, aur jaldi se Bijli ke ghar se bhaag gaye.
Ustaad beech sadak mein apne pyjama uthaake bhaag hee rahe the jab “THAP!” karke do darzan tamaatar unke sar par aa gire.
Har izzeddaar shayar ke jaise Ustaad bhi side mein kuch lafda chala rahe the. Bijli naam ki ek ladki ke saat. Bijli ek izzeddaar ladki thi, jo izzeddaar ladkiyon ke tarah kisi izzeddaar aadmi se kab ki ek izzat ki shaadi kar leti, par uske sar par ek badthi bald spot ne us naubat ko goli maarke rakkha tha. Woh jabbhi haircut karwane ko jaathi tho naai pocchthi, “Kya bolte hai aap, aapke taangon se kaatke, kuch baal aapke sar par chipka doon?” Naai ko tip nahin milta, par woh is nazaaren ko dekhna kaafi samajthe the.
Ustaad andhe nahin the. Par unko pata nahin tha. Bijli, kayeen saalon ke experience se apne sar ke peeche ki bald spot ko chupaane mein kaafi maahir ho gayi thee. Waise dekhe tho, Ustaad ke begum ke baaju koi langdi, kaane ya lulli bhi chaand ke tukde lagne lage, par Bijli utni bhi gayi guzri nahin thi. Waqai, Ustaad Bijli par marte the, aur lambi, lambi prem ke kavita uske naam likha karte.
Bijli in cheejon se kaafi khush thee, par woh apni haisiyat se khush nahin thi. Jab bhi Ustaad jasoos bhainson se jaan bachake Bijli ko visit karte, woh us shyaam mein ek na ek baar shaadi ki baat ko ched dethi.
“Aji, kya bolte hai aap? Hamaari shaadi kab hogi?” Bijli poochthi, bed par lete, ek gulaabi chudidaar pehne. Usko apne badti bald spot ki phikar thi; na jaane kab band kabootar gutur-goon karne lag jaaye?
Ustaad unko kuch doobe doobe, surme waale aankhon se dekhthe, aur “Haan haan, jaldi!” bolke chup ho jaate. Apne talaak – aur subsequent maut – ke baare mein sochthe. Unko Bijli ki badthi bald spot ki koi phikar nahin thi.
“Such?” Bijli khush ho kar poochthi. Usko unke maut ki koi phikar nahin thi.
Ek din yeh baar baar poochna aur baar baar jhoot bolna Ustaad ke seeme se baahar ho gaya. Ustaad Bijli ko dekhe, aur pyaar se pooche “Ek kavita likha hoon, sunegi?”
Pyaar se Bijli boli, “Nahin”.
Ustaad us nahin ko haan samajhke apni dil ki baat keh daali:
“Labzon se bole nahin jaate,
Dil ke har baat,
Aankhon se nahin nikalte,
Dil ke har aansoon.
Majboori is duniya ki reet hai,
Preet, is dil ki khwaaish,
Shaadi Moti se ho chuki hai,
Pyaar tumse hai naajaayiz.
Hataana chahta hoon main is naqaab,
Hakikat mein chahta hoon main jeena,
Chutkaara chahta hoon shaadi se memsaahb,
Milegi chutkaara sirf zindagi se, tum dekhna.
Rangeen ho jayenge uske haat,
Pairon se thod degi mera dil,
Bikhar jaayegi meri ruuh,
Tadpedi (ruuh) qayamat aane till.
Manzoor hota mujhe yeh taqdeer bhi,
Agar utne mein chodthi mujhe woh Moti,
Dafnane ke baad nachegi woh kabr par,
Baynd baaja bulaake woh bhi!
Pyaar kiya hai tumhi se,
Par samjho meri majbooriyan,
Pyaar karoonga main tumhi se,
Par rakhon doori darmiyaan!”
Bijli yeh kavita sunte hee phoot phoot kar rone lagi. Woh melodramatic tarah se cheekne chillane bhi lagi: “Nahin! Taqdeer mujhe phir se dhokha nahin de sakti!” Ustaad usko nihaare aur namr swar me bole “Abbe, kyoon nahin?” Bijli unko nihaari aur aankh baboola ho gayi. Ustaad yeh sab signs ko achchi tarah pehchaante the, aur jaldi se Bijli ke ghar se bhaag gaye.
Ustaad beech sadak mein apne pyjama uthaake bhaag hee rahe the jab “THAP!” karke do darzan tamaatar unke sar par aa gire.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Is the stigma justified?
The question began simply, "Would you partake in having sex with someone other than your spouse while remaining completely within your relationship with him or her?" The answer most often received was, "Obviously not, my boyfriend [girlfriend] is my only lover and I have no intentions of having it any other way! ...How would that be possible anyway?"
Sex might have began as that instinctive special act of procreation that we indulged in as mammals. But the minute man invented the condom, it was clear that this was an act that we simply didn't want to restrict for procreation. In today's society it is far more widespread. People indulge in it all the time and at many times just socially with someone we might have not known for very long. However there is a social stigma attached to this. This act is only meant to be performed with someone who you are married to, seriously committed to or atleast thinking about serious committment with. Everything else is taboo.
If such 'laws' are adhered to, it could leave persons who are dissatisfied with their spouse's sexual nature disgruntled and frustrated. And what's worse, they might love each other for everything else but this one quality but might sometimes be forced to end the relationship because of its inexclusivity.
Man is a social animal. The advantage for any animal including man, to exist as a group are many, but one of the biggest drawbacks is the speed with which any fatal disease can wipe out the entire group. Sexually transmitted disease has been top on the list for a very long time. Since the desire to procreate and propogate the species is so intense, this disease was sure to claim every adult in the group. This has existed in chimpanzee colonies as well as in humans.
When this was recognized by humans, we took steps to control the spreading of such diseases within our groups by instituting marriages and other such binds which required a couple to practice sex only between themselves and no other. This ensured the continuance of large groups as well as the localizing of the spread of any sexually transmitted disease. Along with the institution of marriages, we got rid of our prostitutes - the women who civilizations has known by many names including mistresses, harlots, vaishya's and concubines. These women were revered, considered of high status, and commanded considerable power and respect in society. But today they are considered with such disregard and are outlawed in many countries around the world.
But the world is so very different from those times. Medicine has progressed so much and we now have the benefit of contraception (if used correctly) and abortion (if used incorrectly). So if one were to propose that sex be treated as a simple activity just like playing sports, participating in debates or even playing computer games, it wouldn't be such an outlandish idea because we have the tools necessary to make this a safe possibility. And going further, if groups of people were to engage in this act together, there is the greater benefit of people staying within relationships even if the sex isn't good enough.
There are however implementation issues apart from the social stigma attached to such behavior. There is the emotional aspects that need to be taken care of as was observed by Kinsey in his revolutionary report on the subject. But in theory, if couples were to choose their partners carefully, for instance choosing other couples who they both cared about as much, it might be possible to instill this concept without adverse effects. And then again this lifestyle is not meant for everyone, just the ones who would like it.
Anyway, this is just a theory. What's your opinions on the subject?
Sex might have began as that instinctive special act of procreation that we indulged in as mammals. But the minute man invented the condom, it was clear that this was an act that we simply didn't want to restrict for procreation. In today's society it is far more widespread. People indulge in it all the time and at many times just socially with someone we might have not known for very long. However there is a social stigma attached to this. This act is only meant to be performed with someone who you are married to, seriously committed to or atleast thinking about serious committment with. Everything else is taboo.
If such 'laws' are adhered to, it could leave persons who are dissatisfied with their spouse's sexual nature disgruntled and frustrated. And what's worse, they might love each other for everything else but this one quality but might sometimes be forced to end the relationship because of its inexclusivity.
Man is a social animal. The advantage for any animal including man, to exist as a group are many, but one of the biggest drawbacks is the speed with which any fatal disease can wipe out the entire group. Sexually transmitted disease has been top on the list for a very long time. Since the desire to procreate and propogate the species is so intense, this disease was sure to claim every adult in the group. This has existed in chimpanzee colonies as well as in humans.
When this was recognized by humans, we took steps to control the spreading of such diseases within our groups by instituting marriages and other such binds which required a couple to practice sex only between themselves and no other. This ensured the continuance of large groups as well as the localizing of the spread of any sexually transmitted disease. Along with the institution of marriages, we got rid of our prostitutes - the women who civilizations has known by many names including mistresses, harlots, vaishya's and concubines. These women were revered, considered of high status, and commanded considerable power and respect in society. But today they are considered with such disregard and are outlawed in many countries around the world.
But the world is so very different from those times. Medicine has progressed so much and we now have the benefit of contraception (if used correctly) and abortion (if used incorrectly). So if one were to propose that sex be treated as a simple activity just like playing sports, participating in debates or even playing computer games, it wouldn't be such an outlandish idea because we have the tools necessary to make this a safe possibility. And going further, if groups of people were to engage in this act together, there is the greater benefit of people staying within relationships even if the sex isn't good enough.
There are however implementation issues apart from the social stigma attached to such behavior. There is the emotional aspects that need to be taken care of as was observed by Kinsey in his revolutionary report on the subject. But in theory, if couples were to choose their partners carefully, for instance choosing other couples who they both cared about as much, it might be possible to instill this concept without adverse effects. And then again this lifestyle is not meant for everyone, just the ones who would like it.
Anyway, this is just a theory. What's your opinions on the subject?
Friday, July 29, 2005
These women that mess with our minds
The two of them were sitting on their evening bench as usual watching the birds, the water and the sunset, not in any particular order of priority. She wore her favorite skirt, the one that bothered him every time she wore it. "Honey it looks great as long as it is in the closet!" he had said in the manner Ford had spoken about his Model T's. Both had been wrong and she knew it. She therefore never acknowledged that statement even with a grunt for a response. This was their usual reprieve from the everyday bustle that they indulged in as one would in a hobby of some sort and she felt it reasonable to spend it comfortably.
On the surface anyone who knew them individually would never expect them to be a couple. But when they were together, everyone agreed that they were as inseperable as neodymium magnets - that is, everyone who knew what neodymium magnets were. They spoke different languages, but they had been successful in building their tower of Babel.
She started giggling in the midst of the flight of a few pigeons across the orange sky in front of them. Sensing a delightful conversation in the making, he turned a smile and then his head toward her asking her to let him into that delightful and convoluted world in her head that only he had been successful in mapping out. She continued to giggle and now she shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward a little while attempting to cover her giggle with one hand indicating that even though she wanted to tell him what she had been thinking about she would be embarassed about it. He continued to look at her in his relaxed posture and then smiled inquiringly, prodding her to go on and tell him. In part he was reminding her about their promise to each other to never hide any thoughts no matter what it was.
"Nooo! Hehehe!", she said.
"What is it sweetie? Tell me..."
"Noooo, I don't know if I should. Hehe!"
"Why, what is it?" He asked while not prodding her too much - an effort that he was still hoping would result in her doing the same towards him. Their promise of unbriddled, uncensored, honest, open communication between them had cost him the most in terms of efforts made to change. His method of dealing with situations was to take off for a little, clear his head, think the situation through and then rejoin her - he needed his space from time to time. She was the type of person who wanted to solve issues by talking it out and discussing every one of the details with him - she believed that they were two different bodies only because she didn't have anything to say about it when they were being made!
"No, do you remember our argument yesterday?" she asked.
"Uh huh...", he affirmed.
"No you took so long to tell me what was bothering you so much. I had to beg you so much before you would tell me.", she seemed to complain.
"Yeah, but that's how I deal with things. Don't you think I should have some space of my own every now and then?" He demanded, while simultaneously feeling proud of his 'very masculine' behavior trait. The idea of 'Brutus the stoic' came back to his mind from his high school days.
"Yeah, that's what I was finding very funny!" she answered.
He just screwed up his face requesting an explanation as he didn't understand what on earth was so funny.
"Hehehe!" Was all she offered.
"No, what was so funny?"
"Hehe! But I don't think I should tell you!" she said coyly. This would take some more begging on his behalf.
Anticipating this he replied, "No, please tell me"
"Hehe, no, I really don't think I should", she said.
"No seriously, don't worry about it. Just tell me." He assured her.
"Hmmmm, I most probably shouldn't.", she persisted.
"Okay, fine then, I don't want to know," this was the final call, you either boarded the train now or headed back home. He also knew fully well that she absolutely wouldn't fall for this reverse psychology trick. She had seen this before. She would just totally ignore that statement.
As if on queue, she carried on nonchalant, "If you promise me that you will not use this information or change your behavior after listening to this, I will tell you."
"Hahaha! You're ridiculous! You're laying down terms and conditions for me when I don't even want to know!" He said trying to provide his previous statement some credibility, failing miserably.
"NO! But I HAVE to tell you. Remember our promise - we have to tell each other EVERYTHING." She continued relentlessly.
"No, it's fine by me. I don't mind. Let's not tell each other everything." he said making yet another attempt to gain his own space.
"No, I HAVE to tell you, but you HAVE to promise me that you won't let this affect you in any way!" she shot his attempt down like a champion skeet shooter. Bam! Poof!
This was the last round. She knew she had him. She made a puppy dog face and looked up at him through those big hazel eyes.
"Hahahaha! SWEETIE! Fine, I won't change my behavior. Just tell me."
"But you have to say the words 'I promise...'", she demanded further. This wasn't going to float well with him.
"No, I don't have to say the words. I said I won't change my behavior, that itself qualifies as a promise from me." he said with an ever widening chest, basking in the sunlight of masculinity.
"Okay, so you remember yesterday's thing right..." she said moving closer to him. She cuddled up with him, put her head on his chest, and hugged him with both her hands. He put one arm around her. She continued, "You said you didn't want to talk about it, but you rally want to tell me, but your sense of 'manhood' gets in your way. That's why you wait until I ask you so many times right?"
She clung on harder while he struggled to get free.
On the surface anyone who knew them individually would never expect them to be a couple. But when they were together, everyone agreed that they were as inseperable as neodymium magnets - that is, everyone who knew what neodymium magnets were. They spoke different languages, but they had been successful in building their tower of Babel.
She started giggling in the midst of the flight of a few pigeons across the orange sky in front of them. Sensing a delightful conversation in the making, he turned a smile and then his head toward her asking her to let him into that delightful and convoluted world in her head that only he had been successful in mapping out. She continued to giggle and now she shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward a little while attempting to cover her giggle with one hand indicating that even though she wanted to tell him what she had been thinking about she would be embarassed about it. He continued to look at her in his relaxed posture and then smiled inquiringly, prodding her to go on and tell him. In part he was reminding her about their promise to each other to never hide any thoughts no matter what it was.
"Nooo! Hehehe!", she said.
"What is it sweetie? Tell me..."
"Noooo, I don't know if I should. Hehe!"
"Why, what is it?" He asked while not prodding her too much - an effort that he was still hoping would result in her doing the same towards him. Their promise of unbriddled, uncensored, honest, open communication between them had cost him the most in terms of efforts made to change. His method of dealing with situations was to take off for a little, clear his head, think the situation through and then rejoin her - he needed his space from time to time. She was the type of person who wanted to solve issues by talking it out and discussing every one of the details with him - she believed that they were two different bodies only because she didn't have anything to say about it when they were being made!
"No, do you remember our argument yesterday?" she asked.
"Uh huh...", he affirmed.
"No you took so long to tell me what was bothering you so much. I had to beg you so much before you would tell me.", she seemed to complain.
"Yeah, but that's how I deal with things. Don't you think I should have some space of my own every now and then?" He demanded, while simultaneously feeling proud of his 'very masculine' behavior trait. The idea of 'Brutus the stoic' came back to his mind from his high school days.
"Yeah, that's what I was finding very funny!" she answered.
He just screwed up his face requesting an explanation as he didn't understand what on earth was so funny.
"Hehehe!" Was all she offered.
"No, what was so funny?"
"Hehe! But I don't think I should tell you!" she said coyly. This would take some more begging on his behalf.
Anticipating this he replied, "No, please tell me"
"Hehe, no, I really don't think I should", she said.
"No seriously, don't worry about it. Just tell me." He assured her.
"Hmmmm, I most probably shouldn't.", she persisted.
"Okay, fine then, I don't want to know," this was the final call, you either boarded the train now or headed back home. He also knew fully well that she absolutely wouldn't fall for this reverse psychology trick. She had seen this before. She would just totally ignore that statement.
As if on queue, she carried on nonchalant, "If you promise me that you will not use this information or change your behavior after listening to this, I will tell you."
"Hahaha! You're ridiculous! You're laying down terms and conditions for me when I don't even want to know!" He said trying to provide his previous statement some credibility, failing miserably.
"NO! But I HAVE to tell you. Remember our promise - we have to tell each other EVERYTHING." She continued relentlessly.
"No, it's fine by me. I don't mind. Let's not tell each other everything." he said making yet another attempt to gain his own space.
"No, I HAVE to tell you, but you HAVE to promise me that you won't let this affect you in any way!" she shot his attempt down like a champion skeet shooter. Bam! Poof!
This was the last round. She knew she had him. She made a puppy dog face and looked up at him through those big hazel eyes.
"Hahahaha! SWEETIE! Fine, I won't change my behavior. Just tell me."
"But you have to say the words 'I promise...'", she demanded further. This wasn't going to float well with him.
"No, I don't have to say the words. I said I won't change my behavior, that itself qualifies as a promise from me." he said with an ever widening chest, basking in the sunlight of masculinity.
"Okay, so you remember yesterday's thing right..." she said moving closer to him. She cuddled up with him, put her head on his chest, and hugged him with both her hands. He put one arm around her. She continued, "You said you didn't want to talk about it, but you rally want to tell me, but your sense of 'manhood' gets in your way. That's why you wait until I ask you so many times right?"
She clung on harder while he struggled to get free.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Google Zone?
I was talking to G about her classes and she told me about this concept that she had learnt where projections of the future saw that there would be two major content providers in the future - either Google or MSN.
Ofcourse this was a bleak picture to me because if the only, truly free and unbridlled domain in this world was then going to be duopolized by these two, what would happen to free speech and the little guys opinions? But I was feeling better rather quickly because this wasn't the first time someone tried to seize the internet and make it their own, it has happened before and what's more, the internet has overcome every such attempt.
But the question is how will it do so this time? How will we netizens (I hate these kinds of words but they convey the point rather efficiently) play a role in this? What do we lilliputs have in our basket of tricks that will enable us to thwart the efforts of these giants? ANY thoughts are welcome on Imagine Carbon, our Google-sponsored blog site.
Ofcourse this was a bleak picture to me because if the only, truly free and unbridlled domain in this world was then going to be duopolized by these two, what would happen to free speech and the little guys opinions? But I was feeling better rather quickly because this wasn't the first time someone tried to seize the internet and make it their own, it has happened before and what's more, the internet has overcome every such attempt.
But the question is how will it do so this time? How will we netizens (I hate these kinds of words but they convey the point rather efficiently) play a role in this? What do we lilliputs have in our basket of tricks that will enable us to thwart the efforts of these giants? ANY thoughts are welcome on Imagine Carbon, our Google-sponsored blog site.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Lahore ke izzat ke rakhwaale
Ustaad Lahore mein jaane maane the aur unki khabar door door tak phaili hui thi. Waqai, Dilli mein bhi unke baare mein khusur phusur hoti rehti. Naturally, kaee aur Ustaadein bhi unki shaan aur shaukat ko challenge karne ke liye kabhi kabhi Lahore aa jaate the. Jab wo aate, poore sheher mein hal chal much jaati aur show ke sab tikat bik jaate. (Log “Ek tikat, do nishaan!” sochke khareed lete; yeh bolne ki zaroorat nahin hai ki red tamaatar bhi black mein bikne lagte. Ha ha ha! Abbe chup!)
Tho ek din Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan ko Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan – urf House Full Saaheb – se ek sandesh aaya. Ustaad postcard ko pad hi rahe the ki unke begum aangan se andar aate, unko pooche, “Tho miyan kya aap us Ustaad-Wustaad, Mote-Gote se ladne waale hai ki main choodiyan-woodiyan le aane ko boldu?”
“Begum, aap choodiyaan le aane ko bolengi tho bhi mujhe hee bolengi na? Mai khareed loonga, aap chinta kyoon karte hai?” Ustaad thoda bahot chidkar apne begum ko samjhaye. Begum krodit ho kar unko ghoorne lage. Ustad bhay-bheet ho kar subject badal daale. “Par aapko is chhitti ke baare mein kaise pata hai? Abhi abhi tho mere haath mein aayeen hai…” Ustaad thoda bahot hairaan hoke pooche; unko phikar thi ki unki begum kayeen antar-yaami tho ho nahin gayi thee.
“Abhi abhi Sundari bathaake gayi,” begum bole.
“Yeh Sundari kaun hai?” Ustaad namrata se, kuch apne utsaah ko dabaye, pooche.
“Wohi, Postman ki bhains!” Begumne jawaab dee.
Ustaad apne sar ko thoda bahot zor se maarne lage.
“Tho bolo miyan, choodiyan ki tamatar?”
“…”
“Tho thai ho gayi, aap is Mote-Gote ko Dilli-ki-Billi banaake waapas bhejdenge! Warna…”
Tho Friday, tera tareek ki raat ko, Madhosh Khan Stadium mein poore Lahore jama ho gaya. (Baahar sab tamaatar stall par “Sold-Out” ki board laga hua tha. Tamatar ki kami se Bhel-puri ki stand bhi bandh hogayee thee. Par aap chinta mat kare, sab log moohnphali kha rahe the.) Har chehre par muskaan, aur dil mein is lok ke har ek sadasy ke liye pyaar aur dosti ki bhaawana thee. Jaise Olympics dekhne waqt hota hai, waise.
Andar, poora stadium safed rang paint kiya gaya tha. Us safedi mein, chaar concentric rings paint kiye gaye the. Center mein ek laal rang ki ek badi si bindu paint kiya gaya tha, jis par dono Ustadon ke liye laal gadde bichaye gaye the. Yeh rangeen raat abhi shuru hone hee waala tha.
MCji us laal rang waali circle mein aaye. Woh thoda bahot Elvis namak aadmi se milte julte the. Spotlight unke oopar padi tho MCji mike haath mein liye bole, “Sajjano aur khoobsoorat Sajjaniyon," Yahaan, effect ke liye thoda pause kiye, phir continue kee: "...aapke aane ki bahot bahot shukriyan. Jaise aap jaante heen honge, aaj raat, Lahore ki shaan aur shauqat – waqai, uski izzat ko – Dilli ke ek Ustaad ne lalkaara hai.”
Audience se koi chillaya “HAAN PATHA HAI SAALE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Hum aaj, us ghustaaki ki jawaab deke hee ranhenge!”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI KAMEENE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan woh jawaab Lahore ke taraf se denge, aur weh mere left mein baithe hai.”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI BHOSDI KE!”
MCji ko thoda bahot ghussa aayee, par kuch bole nahin. “Aur, Dilli ke mashoor, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan…” Aur wo jaldi se chalaang maarke, opposite side audience ko face karte bole, “…bhi mere left mein baithe hain! Ha ha ha!”
Stadium mein sannaata chah gaya. Ek minute ke baad kiseene chillaakar bola, “NAHEEEEEEEEEEN! WOH HAMAARE RIGHT PE BAITHE HAI!”
“HAAN, PATA HAI HARRAAM JAADE!” MCji unko daantthe hue bole. “AAPKI AUR KUCH WISHESH TIPPANI NAHIN HO THO HUM SHURU KAREN? HAAN JI? NAHIN NAHIN, POORI RAAT HAI, AAP JO BOLNA CHAAHE BOL LEEJIYE! NAHIN? SAALA, BADA AAYA…”
Tho shuru hui. Athithi hone ke naate, Ustaad Mote Khan shuru kiye:
“Arz hai…
Kehte hai ki tum shayar ho,
Par tere labz shayari to hai nahin,
Shabnam phool par baitthi hai magar,
Usko baarish bolte nahin!”
Log zor zor se “WAH! WAH!” kahe. Turant, Ustad Mote Khan – urf House Full Sahed – apni sundar groupie ko nihaare. Uski naam Rambha thi. (Waise dekhe tho, Ramba ko bhi 'House-Full Saahibaan' bulaate the, par kuch alag se kaaran ke liye...*ahem*) Ustaad Mote Khan unko ek surreptitious flying chummi bheje, aur apne hont ko gheela kiye. Ramba, kuch sharmilee hoke hus padi, aur unke mooh mein ek paan daal diya.
Ustaad Biryani Khan us shayari ki jawaab diye:
“Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Hai ki nahin?
CHILLA, CHILLA ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Janaab, agle labzon ko dhyaan se suniyega!
Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Par woh kutta bhi kutta kya,
Jo patthar marne par bhonktha nahin!”
Audience poori tarah has pada. Kuch log apne aap ko sambhal nahin sake aur apne apne kursiyon se gir bhi gaye. Ustaad khush ho kar baaju mein dekhe tho sirf Anmol miyaan dikhai pade. Ustaad apni paan khudh mooh mein daale.
“Saale, dekh loonga!” Ustaad Mote Khan ghoorte huey bole.
“Dekh mat, sun lena, mote!” Ustaad Biryani Khan uttar diye.
Audience us comment pe bhi has pade; lag raha tha ki wae thai karlee thee ki who aaj poora paisa wasool karke hee jaayenge. Unko dekhthe, Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aage bade:
“Log hasenge hee teri shayari pe, jaanwar saale sub ke sub,
Bandaron ko sirf kela chahiye, adrak khaate dikhe kab!
Shayari mein dard hona chaahiye, shayari mein hona chaiye mohabbat,
Par dard yaha sirf mere kaanon ko hua hai, bhaad mein jaye tu, kambakhat!”
Audience “Ooooohhhhh!!!! Insult!” bole. Kuch log, apne apne tamaatar phenke, par sab miss ho gaye. Ustaad Biryani Khan ready the:
“Dumroon hai mere haath mein saale,
Karoonga main usko dugu dugu,
Patti hai tere galein mein mote,
Behn-chod, hojaon palti karne shuru!”
Audience poori tarah paagal ho gayi! Huste huste logon ke aankhon mein se paani aana shuru ho gaya. Do teen kele bhi phenke gaye. Ustad Biryani Khan apne aap pein bahot naaz karne lage. Unke do teen shishy unke haaton ko massage karne bhi lage. Ustaad Ramba ko aankh maarein. Ramba “Hrmph!” kehke kahin aur dekhne lagi.
Ustaad Mote Khan bahot krodit ho gaye. Woh desperate hone lage kyon ki woh jo bhi karte, Ustaad Biryani Khan uska jawaab sina thaan ke de rahe the. Woh do teen minute soche phir Ramba ke kaanon mein kuch khusur phusur kiye. Ramba sharmake thoda has padi. Ustaad Mote Khan ek sinister hasi has liye, aur aage badhe:
“Gande labzon se ladne se,
Karoonga nahin main kuch bada kaam,
Has jayegi saari jagat,
Par rahoonga main sirf badnaam.
Mere wise Papa kehthe thai,
‘Agar jeet mein hona hai shamil,
Dushman ko haraana hee hai,
Tho chalaao teer uske dil!’”
Audience par thoda bahot sannaata chhaa gayi. Logon ko pata nahin chala ki wo hase ki wo roye. (Ustaad Mote ke Papa ki guzarjaane ki khabar se weh thoda sad se ho gaye. Kya kare.) Ustaad Biryani Khan bhi thoda bahot stumped se ho gaye. Phir bhi, wo aage bade:
“Baat karte ho man chaahe jitni,
Tike raho topic pe Dilli ke shayar!”
Ramba devi suddenly Ustaad Biryani Khan ko aankh maari, aur thoda bahot sharmeeli hoke baith gayee. Maano Ustaad ke dil pe bijli gir gayi. Ustaad thoda bahot distract ho gaye par aage badhne ki koshish kee:
Weh bole, “Insult karo…” Itne mein, Ramba devi ki dupatta achanak sarak gayi. Ustaad ki seeti baj gayi aur unke maathe pe paseena aana shuru ho gaya. Weh mesmerised jaise ho gaye. Par do teen minute ke silence ke baad, woh aage badhne ki try phirse kiye:
“…karna hai jitni,”
Ustaad itna heen bol paaye jab Ramba devi ke haathon se ek gulaab choot kar zameen pe gir gayi! Ramba devi Ustaad Biryani Khan ke taraf dekhe, apne bhare, raseele honton ko kaate, aur us gulaab ko neeche reach karke lene hee wale the – aur uh…Ustaad Biryani Khan ko unko ‘House-Full Saahibaan’ naam se bulaane ki reason pata hee hone waala tha – jab Moti view mein aa gayi. Moti poora krod se aankh baboola ho gayi thee!
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”
Ustaad chillakar unke gadde ke peeche chalaang maar liye kyonki woh jaante the ki Moti – jyaada nahin, thoda bahot – possessive type ki thee! Moti unke taraf sir hilaaye, jaise bol rahe the ki woh unko ghar pe dekhlegi. Uske baad Moti apni sir mod lee, aur Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aur Ramba devi ko nihaare. Moti sir hilaayi aur ab lag raha tha jaise dhai hazaar bhains abhi charge karne waale hain. Phir kuch aur kahe bina Moti unpe waar kar lee.
Itne mein audience ko Ustaad Mote Ali Khan ke gehri saajish ke baare mein khabar ho gayi. “CHEEEAATING!” bolke, sab log apne Lahore ke izzat ko lalkaarnewaalon par badla lene ke liye khade ho gaye. Unme tehelka mach gaya. Saare angle se tamaatar, tarbooj, bataata, kursiyaan, aur chappal udne lage.
Unhi udthe cheezon ke beech, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Khan aur Ramba devi udthe dikhai pade!
Aadab huzoor!
Tho ek din Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan ko Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan – urf House Full Saaheb – se ek sandesh aaya. Ustaad postcard ko pad hi rahe the ki unke begum aangan se andar aate, unko pooche, “Tho miyan kya aap us Ustaad-Wustaad, Mote-Gote se ladne waale hai ki main choodiyan-woodiyan le aane ko boldu?”
“Begum, aap choodiyaan le aane ko bolengi tho bhi mujhe hee bolengi na? Mai khareed loonga, aap chinta kyoon karte hai?” Ustaad thoda bahot chidkar apne begum ko samjhaye. Begum krodit ho kar unko ghoorne lage. Ustad bhay-bheet ho kar subject badal daale. “Par aapko is chhitti ke baare mein kaise pata hai? Abhi abhi tho mere haath mein aayeen hai…” Ustaad thoda bahot hairaan hoke pooche; unko phikar thi ki unki begum kayeen antar-yaami tho ho nahin gayi thee.
“Abhi abhi Sundari bathaake gayi,” begum bole.
“Yeh Sundari kaun hai?” Ustaad namrata se, kuch apne utsaah ko dabaye, pooche.
“Wohi, Postman ki bhains!” Begumne jawaab dee.
Ustaad apne sar ko thoda bahot zor se maarne lage.
“Tho bolo miyan, choodiyan ki tamatar?”
“…”
“Tho thai ho gayi, aap is Mote-Gote ko Dilli-ki-Billi banaake waapas bhejdenge! Warna…”
Tho Friday, tera tareek ki raat ko, Madhosh Khan Stadium mein poore Lahore jama ho gaya. (Baahar sab tamaatar stall par “Sold-Out” ki board laga hua tha. Tamatar ki kami se Bhel-puri ki stand bhi bandh hogayee thee. Par aap chinta mat kare, sab log moohnphali kha rahe the.) Har chehre par muskaan, aur dil mein is lok ke har ek sadasy ke liye pyaar aur dosti ki bhaawana thee. Jaise Olympics dekhne waqt hota hai, waise.
Andar, poora stadium safed rang paint kiya gaya tha. Us safedi mein, chaar concentric rings paint kiye gaye the. Center mein ek laal rang ki ek badi si bindu paint kiya gaya tha, jis par dono Ustadon ke liye laal gadde bichaye gaye the. Yeh rangeen raat abhi shuru hone hee waala tha.
MCji us laal rang waali circle mein aaye. Woh thoda bahot Elvis namak aadmi se milte julte the. Spotlight unke oopar padi tho MCji mike haath mein liye bole, “Sajjano aur khoobsoorat Sajjaniyon," Yahaan, effect ke liye thoda pause kiye, phir continue kee: "...aapke aane ki bahot bahot shukriyan. Jaise aap jaante heen honge, aaj raat, Lahore ki shaan aur shauqat – waqai, uski izzat ko – Dilli ke ek Ustaad ne lalkaara hai.”
Audience se koi chillaya “HAAN PATHA HAI SAALE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Hum aaj, us ghustaaki ki jawaab deke hee ranhenge!”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI KAMEENE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan woh jawaab Lahore ke taraf se denge, aur weh mere left mein baithe hai.”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI BHOSDI KE!”
MCji ko thoda bahot ghussa aayee, par kuch bole nahin. “Aur, Dilli ke mashoor, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan…” Aur wo jaldi se chalaang maarke, opposite side audience ko face karte bole, “…bhi mere left mein baithe hain! Ha ha ha!”
Stadium mein sannaata chah gaya. Ek minute ke baad kiseene chillaakar bola, “NAHEEEEEEEEEEN! WOH HAMAARE RIGHT PE BAITHE HAI!”
“HAAN, PATA HAI HARRAAM JAADE!” MCji unko daantthe hue bole. “AAPKI AUR KUCH WISHESH TIPPANI NAHIN HO THO HUM SHURU KAREN? HAAN JI? NAHIN NAHIN, POORI RAAT HAI, AAP JO BOLNA CHAAHE BOL LEEJIYE! NAHIN? SAALA, BADA AAYA…”
Tho shuru hui. Athithi hone ke naate, Ustaad Mote Khan shuru kiye:
“Arz hai…
Kehte hai ki tum shayar ho,
Par tere labz shayari to hai nahin,
Shabnam phool par baitthi hai magar,
Usko baarish bolte nahin!”
Log zor zor se “WAH! WAH!” kahe. Turant, Ustad Mote Khan – urf House Full Sahed – apni sundar groupie ko nihaare. Uski naam Rambha thi. (Waise dekhe tho, Ramba ko bhi 'House-Full Saahibaan' bulaate the, par kuch alag se kaaran ke liye...*ahem*) Ustaad Mote Khan unko ek surreptitious flying chummi bheje, aur apne hont ko gheela kiye. Ramba, kuch sharmilee hoke hus padi, aur unke mooh mein ek paan daal diya.
Ustaad Biryani Khan us shayari ki jawaab diye:
“Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Hai ki nahin?
CHILLA, CHILLA ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Janaab, agle labzon ko dhyaan se suniyega!
Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Par woh kutta bhi kutta kya,
Jo patthar marne par bhonktha nahin!”
Audience poori tarah has pada. Kuch log apne aap ko sambhal nahin sake aur apne apne kursiyon se gir bhi gaye. Ustaad khush ho kar baaju mein dekhe tho sirf Anmol miyaan dikhai pade. Ustaad apni paan khudh mooh mein daale.
“Saale, dekh loonga!” Ustaad Mote Khan ghoorte huey bole.
“Dekh mat, sun lena, mote!” Ustaad Biryani Khan uttar diye.
Audience us comment pe bhi has pade; lag raha tha ki wae thai karlee thee ki who aaj poora paisa wasool karke hee jaayenge. Unko dekhthe, Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aage bade:
“Log hasenge hee teri shayari pe, jaanwar saale sub ke sub,
Bandaron ko sirf kela chahiye, adrak khaate dikhe kab!
Shayari mein dard hona chaahiye, shayari mein hona chaiye mohabbat,
Par dard yaha sirf mere kaanon ko hua hai, bhaad mein jaye tu, kambakhat!”
Audience “Ooooohhhhh!!!! Insult!” bole. Kuch log, apne apne tamaatar phenke, par sab miss ho gaye. Ustaad Biryani Khan ready the:
“Dumroon hai mere haath mein saale,
Karoonga main usko dugu dugu,
Patti hai tere galein mein mote,
Behn-chod, hojaon palti karne shuru!”
Audience poori tarah paagal ho gayi! Huste huste logon ke aankhon mein se paani aana shuru ho gaya. Do teen kele bhi phenke gaye. Ustad Biryani Khan apne aap pein bahot naaz karne lage. Unke do teen shishy unke haaton ko massage karne bhi lage. Ustaad Ramba ko aankh maarein. Ramba “Hrmph!” kehke kahin aur dekhne lagi.
Ustaad Mote Khan bahot krodit ho gaye. Woh desperate hone lage kyon ki woh jo bhi karte, Ustaad Biryani Khan uska jawaab sina thaan ke de rahe the. Woh do teen minute soche phir Ramba ke kaanon mein kuch khusur phusur kiye. Ramba sharmake thoda has padi. Ustaad Mote Khan ek sinister hasi has liye, aur aage badhe:
“Gande labzon se ladne se,
Karoonga nahin main kuch bada kaam,
Has jayegi saari jagat,
Par rahoonga main sirf badnaam.
Mere wise Papa kehthe thai,
‘Agar jeet mein hona hai shamil,
Dushman ko haraana hee hai,
Tho chalaao teer uske dil!’”
Audience par thoda bahot sannaata chhaa gayi. Logon ko pata nahin chala ki wo hase ki wo roye. (Ustaad Mote ke Papa ki guzarjaane ki khabar se weh thoda sad se ho gaye. Kya kare.) Ustaad Biryani Khan bhi thoda bahot stumped se ho gaye. Phir bhi, wo aage bade:
“Baat karte ho man chaahe jitni,
Tike raho topic pe Dilli ke shayar!”
Ramba devi suddenly Ustaad Biryani Khan ko aankh maari, aur thoda bahot sharmeeli hoke baith gayee. Maano Ustaad ke dil pe bijli gir gayi. Ustaad thoda bahot distract ho gaye par aage badhne ki koshish kee:
Weh bole, “Insult karo…” Itne mein, Ramba devi ki dupatta achanak sarak gayi. Ustaad ki seeti baj gayi aur unke maathe pe paseena aana shuru ho gaya. Weh mesmerised jaise ho gaye. Par do teen minute ke silence ke baad, woh aage badhne ki try phirse kiye:
“…karna hai jitni,”
Ustaad itna heen bol paaye jab Ramba devi ke haathon se ek gulaab choot kar zameen pe gir gayi! Ramba devi Ustaad Biryani Khan ke taraf dekhe, apne bhare, raseele honton ko kaate, aur us gulaab ko neeche reach karke lene hee wale the – aur uh…Ustaad Biryani Khan ko unko ‘House-Full Saahibaan’ naam se bulaane ki reason pata hee hone waala tha – jab Moti view mein aa gayi. Moti poora krod se aankh baboola ho gayi thee!
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”
Ustaad chillakar unke gadde ke peeche chalaang maar liye kyonki woh jaante the ki Moti – jyaada nahin, thoda bahot – possessive type ki thee! Moti unke taraf sir hilaaye, jaise bol rahe the ki woh unko ghar pe dekhlegi. Uske baad Moti apni sir mod lee, aur Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aur Ramba devi ko nihaare. Moti sir hilaayi aur ab lag raha tha jaise dhai hazaar bhains abhi charge karne waale hain. Phir kuch aur kahe bina Moti unpe waar kar lee.
Itne mein audience ko Ustaad Mote Ali Khan ke gehri saajish ke baare mein khabar ho gayi. “CHEEEAATING!” bolke, sab log apne Lahore ke izzat ko lalkaarnewaalon par badla lene ke liye khade ho gaye. Unme tehelka mach gaya. Saare angle se tamaatar, tarbooj, bataata, kursiyaan, aur chappal udne lage.
Unhi udthe cheezon ke beech, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Khan aur Ramba devi udthe dikhai pade!
Aadab huzoor!
Monday, July 04, 2005
Deaf Dancers
This was a link forwarded to me by my sister. All the dancers are deaf and are coordinating with the music through visual signals being provided by the people standing on the sides of the stage. Check it out and post your reactions.
http://www.cse.ohio-state.edu/~panugant/downloads/chineese.wmv
http://www.cse.ohio-state.edu/~panugant/downloads/chineese.wmv
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Program to find meaning of life...
'Program to find the meaning of life
'Visual Basic adaptation of Nakul Krishna's original idea
Dim Meaning As MindBogglingDataType
'Make elementary attempts first
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingInnocent()
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromYourReligion()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromContemplatingEssenceOfFriendship()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromAppreciatingFeelingsDuringSex()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingHappy()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingInLove()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
'Sorry that you were unsuccessful. Here's one last try.
Dim UponWhat As String
UponWhat = "Meaning Of Life"
Do While IsNull(Meaning)
Meaning = Meditate(UponWhat)
Loop
'Release
Satisfied:
End
'Visual Basic adaptation of Nakul Krishna's original idea
Dim Meaning As MindBogglingDataType
'Make elementary attempts first
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingInnocent()
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromYourReligion()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromContemplatingEssenceOfFriendship()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromAppreciatingFeelingsDuringSex()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingHappy()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
If IsNull(Meaning) Then
Meaning = GetValueFromBeingInLove()
Else
Goto Satisfied
End If
'Sorry that you were unsuccessful. Here's one last try.
Dim UponWhat As String
UponWhat = "Meaning Of Life"
Do While IsNull(Meaning)
Meaning = Meditate(UponWhat)
Loop
'Release
Satisfied:
End
Monday, May 09, 2005
Fantastic Pool Shots
Whether you are a Pool junkie like us or not, check out this video. It's amazing!
http://www.engr.colostate.edu/~dga/pool/normal_videos/new/NVA-20.htm
http://www.engr.colostate.edu/~dga/pool/normal_videos/new/NVA-20.htm
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
The Conservatives...
Hey People,
Have you noticed how the Conservatives are the ones that are in control of everything? The Church, the country...any and every kind of organization! Why is it that the Liberals aren't? Are [we] disposed to being the minority? Does it follow the bell-curve principle - with the Liberals being at the front, but in smaller proportion? Why might our behaviour be arranged in such a way? Are human-beings - speaking of the majority - scared? Too scared to try something new? Why are they/we (it seems like even Liberals can be Conservatives with respect to different issues. I mean, a person might have a Liberal view on gun-control, but might turn around and be rather conservative when it comes to abortion!) scared?
That brings me to the issue about being scared being a quality shared across all life forms. Everything is scared for it's life! Lower the life-form the more it has to be scared of. Yet, human beings, being at the top of the food chain, is still scared. Just of other humans now. Why is this quality (of being scared) so inherent to all life? Self-preservation?
Anyway, haven't really thought about this. Just thought I'd post this, because it's been running around the corridors of my mind without being inspected yet. So, yeah, if you've got the time, beat it up!
Luv,
C
Have you noticed how the Conservatives are the ones that are in control of everything? The Church, the country...any and every kind of organization! Why is it that the Liberals aren't? Are [we] disposed to being the minority? Does it follow the bell-curve principle - with the Liberals being at the front, but in smaller proportion? Why might our behaviour be arranged in such a way? Are human-beings - speaking of the majority - scared? Too scared to try something new? Why are they/we (it seems like even Liberals can be Conservatives with respect to different issues. I mean, a person might have a Liberal view on gun-control, but might turn around and be rather conservative when it comes to abortion!) scared?
That brings me to the issue about being scared being a quality shared across all life forms. Everything is scared for it's life! Lower the life-form the more it has to be scared of. Yet, human beings, being at the top of the food chain, is still scared. Just of other humans now. Why is this quality (of being scared) so inherent to all life? Self-preservation?
Anyway, haven't really thought about this. Just thought I'd post this, because it's been running around the corridors of my mind without being inspected yet. So, yeah, if you've got the time, beat it up!
Luv,
C
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Isn't it lovely!
What do I do when I am no longer an unknown quantity to someone else, especially my loved ones? Should I relish how well she understands me, or should I writhe in pain over being so damned predictable? Isn't variety the spice of life? Isn't it virtue to be the rock that someone can rely on - being predictable and dependable? Can all this be within one person?
It was Sunday morning. The sun was shining in through the windows and I woke up. My dearest lay beside me occupying most of the bed and with her mouth open. She seemed dead for the most part, but the light rhythmic snoring gave me hope that there might be life after all. I pulled out my camera phone and tried to video capture the elusive scene. Next time she claims that she doesn't snore, I could prove it to her! But alas, just as I turned, I shook the bed and the snoring was gone. Drat!
I had made up my mind the previous night to head to the office early. So I woke up at eight and began taking my hour long shower. As soon as I came out of the shower, I see that she has gotten out of bed and made breakfast. I look at her quizzically and she replied saying, "I woke a little after you did. I wanted to make you breakfast. So I did. Guess what I made for you?"
Without question I knew this was going to be one of her demonstrations of how well she knows me. She had me figured down to a science but I wasn't going to go out without a fight. I wanted to remain unpredictable, uncharted, unknown and mysterious. But she knew that too. She even had my unpredicability, my wildest impulses, my impromptu behaviors all figured out. I was dealing with the United States Secret Service with ESP capabilities. But as I do in situations where I am matched up against someone who I know is better than me, I was going to give it my best shot and not care about the consequences. So without much hope of winning the title for the most unpredictable person, I said the weirdest thing that came to mind - "Eggs Benedict?"
To which she said, "Yes! Here you are! Isn't it lovely that I know you so well?!"
Mother...!
It was Sunday morning. The sun was shining in through the windows and I woke up. My dearest lay beside me occupying most of the bed and with her mouth open. She seemed dead for the most part, but the light rhythmic snoring gave me hope that there might be life after all. I pulled out my camera phone and tried to video capture the elusive scene. Next time she claims that she doesn't snore, I could prove it to her! But alas, just as I turned, I shook the bed and the snoring was gone. Drat!
I had made up my mind the previous night to head to the office early. So I woke up at eight and began taking my hour long shower. As soon as I came out of the shower, I see that she has gotten out of bed and made breakfast. I look at her quizzically and she replied saying, "I woke a little after you did. I wanted to make you breakfast. So I did. Guess what I made for you?"
Without question I knew this was going to be one of her demonstrations of how well she knows me. She had me figured down to a science but I wasn't going to go out without a fight. I wanted to remain unpredictable, uncharted, unknown and mysterious. But she knew that too. She even had my unpredicability, my wildest impulses, my impromptu behaviors all figured out. I was dealing with the United States Secret Service with ESP capabilities. But as I do in situations where I am matched up against someone who I know is better than me, I was going to give it my best shot and not care about the consequences. So without much hope of winning the title for the most unpredictable person, I said the weirdest thing that came to mind - "Eggs Benedict?"
To which she said, "Yes! Here you are! Isn't it lovely that I know you so well?!"
Mother...!
Strawberries and Cream
Okay people, here's another episode in the lives of Ajay and Avi. Tell me what you think! :)
The traffic had died down now that it was a little past eight in the evening, late for most others. Ajay had finished his work and had called me to check if I was done as well. A guy in the office was working a little more diligently than usual trying to meet Thursday’s deadline - an effort that I shouldn’t thwart if possible - so I told Ajay to head home and that I’d just take a rickshaw back.
He had agreed and put the phone down, and had nonetheless appeared at the office a half-hour later with ice cream from Corner House. I couldn’t help break out into a smile when I saw him at the door, package in hand, smile on face. He came in and sat across the table and began to remove and lay out everything without saying a word. Without needing to explain.
I heard a knock on the glass door. It was Vinay.
“Avi, I’m going to head off now, I’ll finish up on Monday. I’m just too tired to think right now,” he said.
I wanted to kill him. If it wasn’t for him, I could have headed home early and spent the evening with my lover-boy instead, doing something romantic. But then again, lover-boy was here, and we were doing something romantic, so I guess there’s no need to split hairs over this.
“Alright, off you go. I’ll see you on Monday.” I said, smiling.
Vinay turned to leave, nodding to Ajay, who smiled back. I guess Ajay was a regular at the office. And NOT someone most people would forget. Ajay was magnetic – he had charm that could melt butter at a distance of thirty-two feet (yes I had measured), and people’s hearts were putty in his hands. So, yeah, it was pretty hard for most people to forget him after he had had even the slightest bit of interaction with them.
Me? Most people did not forget me either, but for rather different reasons. A family trait, I had one of the most volatile tempers known to mankind. It would take me all of two seconds to change from being at peace with the universe and all it’s children, to a Tsunami that spared no one. And back again. So, yeah, we were, as a couple, wholly unforgettable.
There was a pitter-pattering on the windowpane, and I turned to see droplets of water lashing against the glass. The water drowned out the noise outside, and I heard the city sigh and shake the day’s toil out of her hair.
Ajay pulled his chair to and relaxed into it. I loosened my tie, and stared at his face, watching how every gentle feature looked in the soft yellow light. There were no sharp corners, just warm, fuzzy edges everywhere. A full, pink set of lips stood out like an island on his fair face. His eyes caught the light and danced a naughty, innocent dance, while his thick black eyelashes fanned them lazily. A hint of stubble ran across his beard giving him a rugged look, and adding to the depth in his personality.
I had been staring silently for a while and had been filled with a sense of peace that spread right through my being. Here was a love that overwhelmed me, a love that I had waited for all my life. The brilliant moment that I met him ran through my mind yet again and a smile crossed my heart in recognition of how lucky I was. I was finding it hard to breathe. I loved this guy so much; I was feeling blessed, glad to be alive, glad to be in love with this perfect human being.
It hadn’t always been like this – it wasn’t always that that I had only love for him. I had been jealous in the beginning. I was absolutely stunned at the effect he had on people. It was absolutely unfair according to me, that he had this power and I didn’t. I had really wanted to bonk all those women who came in shyly into my office, and asked about him once Ajay had come and gone. But then it dawned on me that the object of their affection was mine, that he wasn’t running anywhere, and that he was fast becoming part and parcel of who I was. Eventually the bonking urge disappeared and I began to revel in the attention that Ajay got. You see, I had begun to take them as personal compliments.
I guess you can say I had fallen in love.
And there he was, sitting across the desk, waiting to share strawberries and cream with me.
I got up from my table and padded silently across the carpet to him. I cupped his face in my hands as I reached him, and he squeezed his lips together until he looked like a pleasantly surprised goldfish. I just had to kiss the fellow now didn’t I!
He grabbed me with both hands and drew me into him. His hands caressed my back and I melted into his arms, his lips, and his glorious presence. My hands were running through his short hair, touching his head, feeling every strand, each finger wanting more.
We kissed for quite some time. I withdrew eventually, and turned and sat down between his legs, my back to his chest. His arms were quick to encircle me, softly. I felt his lips on the back of my neck.
“How was your day honey?” he asked, slowly smoothing my hair.
“Well, one of my good people quit. And then there was a phone battle with Mani at Virat. Those jokers just can’t seem to be able to make up their mind about anything, and I end up having to scurry to make the deadlines.” I said, exasperatedly recounting the day’s events.
There was a pause, and then Ajay piped up “Hmm!”
I laughed. “Fine, my day was just fine; sorry I killed the mood. How was your day honey?” I asked back, smiling, twisting my head to have a better look.
“It’s picking up,” he said, smiling back, reaching for the strawberries and cream.
The traffic had died down now that it was a little past eight in the evening, late for most others. Ajay had finished his work and had called me to check if I was done as well. A guy in the office was working a little more diligently than usual trying to meet Thursday’s deadline - an effort that I shouldn’t thwart if possible - so I told Ajay to head home and that I’d just take a rickshaw back.
He had agreed and put the phone down, and had nonetheless appeared at the office a half-hour later with ice cream from Corner House. I couldn’t help break out into a smile when I saw him at the door, package in hand, smile on face. He came in and sat across the table and began to remove and lay out everything without saying a word. Without needing to explain.
I heard a knock on the glass door. It was Vinay.
“Avi, I’m going to head off now, I’ll finish up on Monday. I’m just too tired to think right now,” he said.
I wanted to kill him. If it wasn’t for him, I could have headed home early and spent the evening with my lover-boy instead, doing something romantic. But then again, lover-boy was here, and we were doing something romantic, so I guess there’s no need to split hairs over this.
“Alright, off you go. I’ll see you on Monday.” I said, smiling.
Vinay turned to leave, nodding to Ajay, who smiled back. I guess Ajay was a regular at the office. And NOT someone most people would forget. Ajay was magnetic – he had charm that could melt butter at a distance of thirty-two feet (yes I had measured), and people’s hearts were putty in his hands. So, yeah, it was pretty hard for most people to forget him after he had had even the slightest bit of interaction with them.
Me? Most people did not forget me either, but for rather different reasons. A family trait, I had one of the most volatile tempers known to mankind. It would take me all of two seconds to change from being at peace with the universe and all it’s children, to a Tsunami that spared no one. And back again. So, yeah, we were, as a couple, wholly unforgettable.
There was a pitter-pattering on the windowpane, and I turned to see droplets of water lashing against the glass. The water drowned out the noise outside, and I heard the city sigh and shake the day’s toil out of her hair.
Ajay pulled his chair to and relaxed into it. I loosened my tie, and stared at his face, watching how every gentle feature looked in the soft yellow light. There were no sharp corners, just warm, fuzzy edges everywhere. A full, pink set of lips stood out like an island on his fair face. His eyes caught the light and danced a naughty, innocent dance, while his thick black eyelashes fanned them lazily. A hint of stubble ran across his beard giving him a rugged look, and adding to the depth in his personality.
I had been staring silently for a while and had been filled with a sense of peace that spread right through my being. Here was a love that overwhelmed me, a love that I had waited for all my life. The brilliant moment that I met him ran through my mind yet again and a smile crossed my heart in recognition of how lucky I was. I was finding it hard to breathe. I loved this guy so much; I was feeling blessed, glad to be alive, glad to be in love with this perfect human being.
It hadn’t always been like this – it wasn’t always that that I had only love for him. I had been jealous in the beginning. I was absolutely stunned at the effect he had on people. It was absolutely unfair according to me, that he had this power and I didn’t. I had really wanted to bonk all those women who came in shyly into my office, and asked about him once Ajay had come and gone. But then it dawned on me that the object of their affection was mine, that he wasn’t running anywhere, and that he was fast becoming part and parcel of who I was. Eventually the bonking urge disappeared and I began to revel in the attention that Ajay got. You see, I had begun to take them as personal compliments.
I guess you can say I had fallen in love.
And there he was, sitting across the desk, waiting to share strawberries and cream with me.
I got up from my table and padded silently across the carpet to him. I cupped his face in my hands as I reached him, and he squeezed his lips together until he looked like a pleasantly surprised goldfish. I just had to kiss the fellow now didn’t I!
He grabbed me with both hands and drew me into him. His hands caressed my back and I melted into his arms, his lips, and his glorious presence. My hands were running through his short hair, touching his head, feeling every strand, each finger wanting more.
We kissed for quite some time. I withdrew eventually, and turned and sat down between his legs, my back to his chest. His arms were quick to encircle me, softly. I felt his lips on the back of my neck.
“How was your day honey?” he asked, slowly smoothing my hair.
“Well, one of my good people quit. And then there was a phone battle with Mani at Virat. Those jokers just can’t seem to be able to make up their mind about anything, and I end up having to scurry to make the deadlines.” I said, exasperatedly recounting the day’s events.
There was a pause, and then Ajay piped up “Hmm!”
I laughed. “Fine, my day was just fine; sorry I killed the mood. How was your day honey?” I asked back, smiling, twisting my head to have a better look.
“It’s picking up,” he said, smiling back, reaching for the strawberries and cream.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Market mein hulchul...
Ustad Charan Biryanee Kha[n] markit mein ek din guzar rahe the, unke begumne unko sabji leke aane ki hukum jo dee thi. Ustaad Charan Biryanee Kha[n] kuch jaane pehchaane hone ke wajah se kaeen log salaam kiye. Aur bhaag gaye. Utni, uh, kadar karte jo the.
Ustaad Charan Biryanee Kha[n] Nehru gali mein jaate rahe ki achaanak unke priy shishy Anmol (jinka last name Ratan tha) ke oopar unki nazar pad gayi. Anmol miyaan coffee shop mein chaay peete kisi pustak mein doob mar rahe the (weh "doobe huen" nahin, "doob mar rahe the" kyoon ki unko pichle hafte heen Urdu ke akshar sikhaya gaya tha) aur isi liye Ustad ke aahat ko pehchaane nahin. Warna weh bhi chalaang marke...uh apni kadar dikha dete.
Ustaad unke back par ek slap karke, Anmol miyaan ke baaju bench pe bait gaye. Anmol miyaan ke hosh aate heen weh bhaagne ki koshish kee thee, par Ustad salaam ke bajaay jamke hug kar rahe the tho Anmol miyaan ko wapas bench par baitna pada. Unke sir par paseena nikalna shuru ho gaya. Unhone ek green rang ki ek rumaal nikaalke usko ponch dee.
Anmol miyaan Ustad ke shishy apne khushi se nahin, par apne Ma ki aakhri ichchaa poora karne ke liye unke shishy ban chuke the. Aap mujhe galat na samjhe - Anmol miyaan shayad Ustaad ke yahan phir bhi shiksha ke liye jaate. Shayad. Aur unke Ma ke maanasik santulan theek nahin hone ke baare mein saalon se khabar phehli thee. Weh jab bhi public mein dikhaai padte tho koi na koi unko paththar maar deta. Par Anmol miyaan shayad apne taraf se bhi Ustaad ke yaha shaamil ho sakte the. Shayad. Aur waise bhi Anmol miyaan ki kismat waise bhi phooti thee...
Apne heen wachan se bandhe hone ke wajah se, Anmol miyaan hichakte huen Ustad ke yahaan shishy ban gaye the. Jab bhi Ustaad ko dekhte tho Anmol miyaan ko apni Ma ki yaad, aur us dukh bhari pal (unke Ma ki gujarne ki, Ustaad ke yahaan shamil hone ki nahin) yaad aa jaata. Anmol miyaan apne paakit mein se ek batuwaa nikaalke, apne Ma ki ek gandi black and white tasveer ko nihaare. Unke Ma us tasveer mein phoot phoot ke has rahi thee. Anmol miyaan ke aankhon mein aansoon nikal aayee.
Ustad unse pooche: "Anmol miyaan, aap ro kyoon rahe hai? Roiye mat, us se kuch bhi hal nahin hota hai. Mujhse poochiye, main jaanta hoon majbooriyon ke baare mein. Maine isi ke baare mein ek shaayari bhi likh chuka hoon." Ustad wahin pause kiye, par Anmol miyaan kuch pooche nahin - woh apne ghum mein doobe hue the. Ustaad phir se try kiye - "Kya aap mere shayari sunenge?" Anmol miyaan apna sar "Nahin!" bolte huen hilaaye, par Ustad jaldi se nazar pher liye aur unke ishaaron ko ignore karte huen aage nikal pade. Anmol miyaan ke aansoon thoda aur mote ho gaye.
"Tho haazir hain...
Bhejthi hai hume sabji le aane ko,
Pehchaanti nahin hamari asli kaabilyat,
Batata, pyaas ke chakkar mein lage rahthe hai hum,
Hamaare haaton kat jaatee hain tamaatar sata sat.
Biwi hai hamaaree moti bhains jaisi,
Akal bhi utni hai, moti bhains ki jitni,
Haso mat mere humdard, mere doston,
Chalees minit ki baath-cheeth hoti hai roz beech un dono ki.
Pooch rahi thi us din kisi guzarti bhains ko -
Kaali thi bhains sab bhains jaisi -
Pata nahin biwi pehchaan kaise leti hai sabko,
Hogi rishtedaar kisi na kisi janam ki.
'Tumhaari maa kaisi hai, tumhaare bacche kaise hai,
Tumhaara khaandaan kya hai theek thaak?'
Utsukta se biwi pooch na rahee thee aangan se,
Mundi hila rahi thi woh bhains sadak pe kya khaak?
Aisi jab humdardi hain un donon ke beech mein,
Aisi jab sahi salaamat hai yeh jodi,
Aisi jab hain pyaar aur mohabbat beech unke,
Markit nahin gaya tho kuchla jaaoonga thodi.
Shaayari ki ma-behn ho jaati hai,
Labz sil jaate hai kahi na kahi,
Par karoon tho main karoon kya,
Thoda muhje hai jaan pyaaree.
Sheher ke kone kone jasoos chipe hote hain,
Baat sunte rehthe hai kaalee bhains meri,
Kisi slim and trim item se baat karoon tho,
Khabar pahunch jaati hai Moti ko turanth hee.
Is mahol se bachaale eh Khuda,
Uthale meri biwi bhains ko jo hai pyaree,
Talaak tho nahin de sakta hoon usko,
'Bhains se shaadi' suna hai kabhi?"
Kasht hoga yeh kaam zara,
Badan dard hoga do teen mahine ki,
Par uthale mere sir se yeh bala,
Seh sakte tho aap hain, mai nahin."
Ustaad unke priy shishy Anmol miyaan ke oar dekhthe thoda muskurae, par Anmol miyaan bahot ro rahe the. Ustaad samjhe ki Anmol miyaan shayari mein bhare dard ke wajah se ro rahe the. Ustaad apne bhavanaon mein kho gaye. Unke man ke mehfil mein sainkdo log jamkar unke oopar phool barsa rahe the. Unke shoulder ke oopar leke jhoom rahi thi poori audience. Sab oar se "Wah wah!" ki goonj ho rahi thi, aur sainkdo, karoron logon ke naachne se dharti dham dham kar rahi thi. Ustad Charan Biryaanee Kha[n] jannat mein the, aur unke mooh par ek nanhi si ek haseen aayee.
Anmol miyaan jo ab tak apni phooti kismat ke oopar aansoon baha rahe the achanak "USTAAD BHAAGOOO!!!" chillakar bhaag gaye. Ustad Charan Biryaanee Kha[n] apne peeche mudkar dekhe tho sainkdo karoro bhains unka peecha karte huen bhaagke aa rahe the.
Ustaad Charan Biryanee Kha[n] Nehru gali mein jaate rahe ki achaanak unke priy shishy Anmol (jinka last name Ratan tha) ke oopar unki nazar pad gayi. Anmol miyaan coffee shop mein chaay peete kisi pustak mein doob mar rahe the (weh "doobe huen" nahin, "doob mar rahe the" kyoon ki unko pichle hafte heen Urdu ke akshar sikhaya gaya tha) aur isi liye Ustad ke aahat ko pehchaane nahin. Warna weh bhi chalaang marke...uh apni kadar dikha dete.
Ustaad unke back par ek slap karke, Anmol miyaan ke baaju bench pe bait gaye. Anmol miyaan ke hosh aate heen weh bhaagne ki koshish kee thee, par Ustad salaam ke bajaay jamke hug kar rahe the tho Anmol miyaan ko wapas bench par baitna pada. Unke sir par paseena nikalna shuru ho gaya. Unhone ek green rang ki ek rumaal nikaalke usko ponch dee.
Anmol miyaan Ustad ke shishy apne khushi se nahin, par apne Ma ki aakhri ichchaa poora karne ke liye unke shishy ban chuke the. Aap mujhe galat na samjhe - Anmol miyaan shayad Ustaad ke yahan phir bhi shiksha ke liye jaate. Shayad. Aur unke Ma ke maanasik santulan theek nahin hone ke baare mein saalon se khabar phehli thee. Weh jab bhi public mein dikhaai padte tho koi na koi unko paththar maar deta. Par Anmol miyaan shayad apne taraf se bhi Ustaad ke yaha shaamil ho sakte the. Shayad. Aur waise bhi Anmol miyaan ki kismat waise bhi phooti thee...
Apne heen wachan se bandhe hone ke wajah se, Anmol miyaan hichakte huen Ustad ke yahaan shishy ban gaye the. Jab bhi Ustaad ko dekhte tho Anmol miyaan ko apni Ma ki yaad, aur us dukh bhari pal (unke Ma ki gujarne ki, Ustaad ke yahaan shamil hone ki nahin) yaad aa jaata. Anmol miyaan apne paakit mein se ek batuwaa nikaalke, apne Ma ki ek gandi black and white tasveer ko nihaare. Unke Ma us tasveer mein phoot phoot ke has rahi thee. Anmol miyaan ke aankhon mein aansoon nikal aayee.
Ustad unse pooche: "Anmol miyaan, aap ro kyoon rahe hai? Roiye mat, us se kuch bhi hal nahin hota hai. Mujhse poochiye, main jaanta hoon majbooriyon ke baare mein. Maine isi ke baare mein ek shaayari bhi likh chuka hoon." Ustad wahin pause kiye, par Anmol miyaan kuch pooche nahin - woh apne ghum mein doobe hue the. Ustaad phir se try kiye - "Kya aap mere shayari sunenge?" Anmol miyaan apna sar "Nahin!" bolte huen hilaaye, par Ustad jaldi se nazar pher liye aur unke ishaaron ko ignore karte huen aage nikal pade. Anmol miyaan ke aansoon thoda aur mote ho gaye.
"Tho haazir hain...
Bhejthi hai hume sabji le aane ko,
Pehchaanti nahin hamari asli kaabilyat,
Batata, pyaas ke chakkar mein lage rahthe hai hum,
Hamaare haaton kat jaatee hain tamaatar sata sat.
Biwi hai hamaaree moti bhains jaisi,
Akal bhi utni hai, moti bhains ki jitni,
Haso mat mere humdard, mere doston,
Chalees minit ki baath-cheeth hoti hai roz beech un dono ki.
Pooch rahi thi us din kisi guzarti bhains ko -
Kaali thi bhains sab bhains jaisi -
Pata nahin biwi pehchaan kaise leti hai sabko,
Hogi rishtedaar kisi na kisi janam ki.
'Tumhaari maa kaisi hai, tumhaare bacche kaise hai,
Tumhaara khaandaan kya hai theek thaak?'
Utsukta se biwi pooch na rahee thee aangan se,
Mundi hila rahi thi woh bhains sadak pe kya khaak?
Aisi jab humdardi hain un donon ke beech mein,
Aisi jab sahi salaamat hai yeh jodi,
Aisi jab hain pyaar aur mohabbat beech unke,
Markit nahin gaya tho kuchla jaaoonga thodi.
Shaayari ki ma-behn ho jaati hai,
Labz sil jaate hai kahi na kahi,
Par karoon tho main karoon kya,
Thoda muhje hai jaan pyaaree.
Sheher ke kone kone jasoos chipe hote hain,
Baat sunte rehthe hai kaalee bhains meri,
Kisi slim and trim item se baat karoon tho,
Khabar pahunch jaati hai Moti ko turanth hee.
Is mahol se bachaale eh Khuda,
Uthale meri biwi bhains ko jo hai pyaree,
Talaak tho nahin de sakta hoon usko,
'Bhains se shaadi' suna hai kabhi?"
Kasht hoga yeh kaam zara,
Badan dard hoga do teen mahine ki,
Par uthale mere sir se yeh bala,
Seh sakte tho aap hain, mai nahin."
Ustaad unke priy shishy Anmol miyaan ke oar dekhthe thoda muskurae, par Anmol miyaan bahot ro rahe the. Ustaad samjhe ki Anmol miyaan shayari mein bhare dard ke wajah se ro rahe the. Ustaad apne bhavanaon mein kho gaye. Unke man ke mehfil mein sainkdo log jamkar unke oopar phool barsa rahe the. Unke shoulder ke oopar leke jhoom rahi thi poori audience. Sab oar se "Wah wah!" ki goonj ho rahi thi, aur sainkdo, karoron logon ke naachne se dharti dham dham kar rahi thi. Ustad Charan Biryaanee Kha[n] jannat mein the, aur unke mooh par ek nanhi si ek haseen aayee.
Anmol miyaan jo ab tak apni phooti kismat ke oopar aansoon baha rahe the achanak "USTAAD BHAAGOOO!!!" chillakar bhaag gaye. Ustad Charan Biryaanee Kha[n] apne peeche mudkar dekhe tho sainkdo karoro bhains unka peecha karte huen bhaagke aa rahe the.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
In the name of efficiency
Police around the world live in a paradox that is seemingly impossible to break - How does one stop crimes before they happen? Think about it, a crime is not a crime until it is committed, and a criminal isn't a criminal until he is proven guilty of the crime. Without the technology used by Tom Cruise in Minority Report, how does one prevent a crime from happening?
Police in the US and in many parts of the world use a technique called 'Profiling'. This technique requires a policeman to look out for criminals by matching visual profiles of a person with known offenders. Considering that the country's most underprivileged classes of people are either Black or Hispanic, this is usually what the police are looking for. But the problem with this system is obvious - the innocent Black and Hispanic American get caught in the middle and suffer quite a bit of inconvenience, leave alone the humiliation of belonging to a community that is largely responsible for committing the crimes. But why should the larger group have to suffer for the sake of the few (yes, by definition, criminals are the minority in any group).
The answer can probably be found in the way the Human Brain functions. Due to it's own inabilities, it organizes large bodies of information by grouping individual components together. Then, all it has to do is remember that Group A has certain characteristics and Group B has a certain different set of characteristics. If there are exceptions, they are automatically classified into a third group. By this method, the brain simply has to remember three different sets of characteristics rather than say, a hundred and fifty individual characteristics. This was the method that led primitive cavemen to remember that green fruits were not ripe and should not be eaten as they are usually bitter, whereas colored fruits were usually ripe and sweet.
You can observe kids doing this all the time. For them, everything around is new and needs to be explored. But there is a process to this exploration. They relate everything to what they already know, unless it is so out of the realm of their understanding, in which case they usually seek help from an adult who will break it down for them. I wouldn't be surprised if kids made sense of the two parents as equivalents with small differences. For instance, 'Dad' is simply 'Mom' without the high pitched voice. Or, an orange is an apple of a different color and different taste. And so on.
But what's funny is that we as adults do this all the time as well. We don't ever grow out of this habit. The rationale that's behind this is probably "It's been successful so far, why not now?" Whenever we run into something new, we usually try to relate it to something we have a good understanding of. I remember, when the Digital Diary revolution came around most people didn't know how to understand this new gadget. But advertising helped relate the new to the familiar. They posted advertisements everywhere saying things like "No more maintaining new calendars every year.", or "Recall a friends number more efficiently than your regular diary!" - at every step trying to associate the new gadget's capabilities with the old method of doing things. "It's the same, but much better!"
Most of us understand the people around us in the same way. We build groups of people and try to fit every new person we are introduced to, into one of these groups. At first the groups are broad such as "White", "Black", "Indian", "Tambi" or "Filipino". Then the groups become more and more refined such as "Student", "Geek" or "Chess Player". The better we get to know the person, the better refined his or her group is. This goes on until we hit a point where this person is the only one within that group called "Adrian" or "Aditya".
If we analyze all of the people we know, we will see that everyone is but a unique combination of a limitless set of characteristics. Genetics and the environment have shaped each one of them into a unique personality. So if this is the case, how right are we usually to start off with the broad classifications? By doing so, we are encouraging ourselves to proceed in the wrong direction in thinking about a person. As a survival mechanism, it's not very effective. Its fine if we do it for objects or concepts, but when it comes to people, we can go wrong. Very wrong. Police could end up terrorizing certain groups of people for just being Black or Hispanic. People could be denied jobs that they are perfectly qualified for because they are not good looking. Innocent people could be sentenced to death because, on the surface, they match the broad characteristics of murderers.
So why do we continue to use an inefficient method to live our lives? One answer provided by an anthropologist by the name of Robin Dunbar is that the human cortex has a limitation in its ability to maintain more than 147.8 (~150) individual profiles in the brain. This might seem like a small number but this actually translates to the brain understanding the relationships between you and each of the 150 people and their relationships between each other, which is in fact a very large number. This study is based on Dunbar's study of various indigenous cultures from the Walbiri of Australia to the Hutterite colonies (Similar to the Amish ;) ) who have each maintained the magical number of 150 as maximum population strengths because, past this they have experienced rifts within the colonies. This 150 is also the reason Graham Bell chose to use the 7 digit telephone number system. Its also the same reason for a combat group within the army to be limited to a max of 200 people even though we have better communication equipment now than ever before.
Though this offers an explanation of why it is so, I would like to argue that we as humans have evolved well past this point. We have new tools and technologies at our disposal. Why do we still behave the same way as the Hutterites? Why do we still use archaic and inaccurate methods of survival? We need a new strategy. We have to force ourselves not to classify people into groups but rather to strive to know each of them as individuals. We have to force our brains to organize differently. Though this seems far fetched, this is not the case because the brain very often reallocates other parts of the brain to take on the functions of any other part. We are very malleable. We have to take advantage of this aspect.
Any thoughts?
Police in the US and in many parts of the world use a technique called 'Profiling'. This technique requires a policeman to look out for criminals by matching visual profiles of a person with known offenders. Considering that the country's most underprivileged classes of people are either Black or Hispanic, this is usually what the police are looking for. But the problem with this system is obvious - the innocent Black and Hispanic American get caught in the middle and suffer quite a bit of inconvenience, leave alone the humiliation of belonging to a community that is largely responsible for committing the crimes. But why should the larger group have to suffer for the sake of the few (yes, by definition, criminals are the minority in any group).
The answer can probably be found in the way the Human Brain functions. Due to it's own inabilities, it organizes large bodies of information by grouping individual components together. Then, all it has to do is remember that Group A has certain characteristics and Group B has a certain different set of characteristics. If there are exceptions, they are automatically classified into a third group. By this method, the brain simply has to remember three different sets of characteristics rather than say, a hundred and fifty individual characteristics. This was the method that led primitive cavemen to remember that green fruits were not ripe and should not be eaten as they are usually bitter, whereas colored fruits were usually ripe and sweet.
You can observe kids doing this all the time. For them, everything around is new and needs to be explored. But there is a process to this exploration. They relate everything to what they already know, unless it is so out of the realm of their understanding, in which case they usually seek help from an adult who will break it down for them. I wouldn't be surprised if kids made sense of the two parents as equivalents with small differences. For instance, 'Dad' is simply 'Mom' without the high pitched voice. Or, an orange is an apple of a different color and different taste. And so on.
But what's funny is that we as adults do this all the time as well. We don't ever grow out of this habit. The rationale that's behind this is probably "It's been successful so far, why not now?" Whenever we run into something new, we usually try to relate it to something we have a good understanding of. I remember, when the Digital Diary revolution came around most people didn't know how to understand this new gadget. But advertising helped relate the new to the familiar. They posted advertisements everywhere saying things like "No more maintaining new calendars every year.", or "Recall a friends number more efficiently than your regular diary!" - at every step trying to associate the new gadget's capabilities with the old method of doing things. "It's the same, but much better!"
Most of us understand the people around us in the same way. We build groups of people and try to fit every new person we are introduced to, into one of these groups. At first the groups are broad such as "White", "Black", "Indian", "Tambi" or "Filipino". Then the groups become more and more refined such as "Student", "Geek" or "Chess Player". The better we get to know the person, the better refined his or her group is. This goes on until we hit a point where this person is the only one within that group called "Adrian" or "Aditya".
If we analyze all of the people we know, we will see that everyone is but a unique combination of a limitless set of characteristics. Genetics and the environment have shaped each one of them into a unique personality. So if this is the case, how right are we usually to start off with the broad classifications? By doing so, we are encouraging ourselves to proceed in the wrong direction in thinking about a person. As a survival mechanism, it's not very effective. Its fine if we do it for objects or concepts, but when it comes to people, we can go wrong. Very wrong. Police could end up terrorizing certain groups of people for just being Black or Hispanic. People could be denied jobs that they are perfectly qualified for because they are not good looking. Innocent people could be sentenced to death because, on the surface, they match the broad characteristics of murderers.
So why do we continue to use an inefficient method to live our lives? One answer provided by an anthropologist by the name of Robin Dunbar is that the human cortex has a limitation in its ability to maintain more than 147.8 (~150) individual profiles in the brain. This might seem like a small number but this actually translates to the brain understanding the relationships between you and each of the 150 people and their relationships between each other, which is in fact a very large number. This study is based on Dunbar's study of various indigenous cultures from the Walbiri of Australia to the Hutterite colonies (Similar to the Amish ;) ) who have each maintained the magical number of 150 as maximum population strengths because, past this they have experienced rifts within the colonies. This 150 is also the reason Graham Bell chose to use the 7 digit telephone number system. Its also the same reason for a combat group within the army to be limited to a max of 200 people even though we have better communication equipment now than ever before.
Though this offers an explanation of why it is so, I would like to argue that we as humans have evolved well past this point. We have new tools and technologies at our disposal. Why do we still behave the same way as the Hutterites? Why do we still use archaic and inaccurate methods of survival? We need a new strategy. We have to force ourselves not to classify people into groups but rather to strive to know each of them as individuals. We have to force our brains to organize differently. Though this seems far fetched, this is not the case because the brain very often reallocates other parts of the brain to take on the functions of any other part. We are very malleable. We have to take advantage of this aspect.
Any thoughts?
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Moments Captured: A New and Unique Concept
Guys, Mihir and I were talking about the movie and we thought of changing things around a little bit. I think it's a little early for our movie making team to actually jump out and start making a full-fledged movie, even if its a short one. We haven't graduated to that level and being a strong believer in climbing steps than leaping and hoping to make it, I suggest we take a different approach.
We came up with the idea of making a 30 minute short movie capturing those special moments - funny ones, touching ones, romantic ones, angry ones, etc. and shooting the entire thing and putting it together. The end product will be the movie in which there will be several of these moments shot. Each clip will have its own introduction and then the actual scene (single scene) acted out. Not only will this be unique but the movie could be shot in several steps in several styles and then pieced together in the form of the lives of 20-something-desi's.
I invite you all to contribute your own little special moments that you can think of. Please post them here as comments to this post and describe it in as much detail as possible. After we have received them from you, we will choose some of them (collectively) based on do-ability and begin shooting it.
Please contribute all moments no matter how insignificant you think they are. This is an experiment only.
We came up with the idea of making a 30 minute short movie capturing those special moments - funny ones, touching ones, romantic ones, angry ones, etc. and shooting the entire thing and putting it together. The end product will be the movie in which there will be several of these moments shot. Each clip will have its own introduction and then the actual scene (single scene) acted out. Not only will this be unique but the movie could be shot in several steps in several styles and then pieced together in the form of the lives of 20-something-desi's.
I invite you all to contribute your own little special moments that you can think of. Please post them here as comments to this post and describe it in as much detail as possible. After we have received them from you, we will choose some of them (collectively) based on do-ability and begin shooting it.
Please contribute all moments no matter how insignificant you think they are. This is an experiment only.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Blind Mole. Redux.
I like evolution. I like the way our genes are transferred imperfectly from generation to generation ironically to achieve a better adapted being. Just think about it, imperfections leading to perfection. It's amazing.
However, what we are provided with is what we experience the world around us with. Just as the blind mole believes that it exists in a world filled with smells, we try to understand the world with the five senses we have been provided. What if we actually need more senses to make full sense of the world but the evolutionary process has just not been able to get us there yet.
What's worse is that maybe some of us have been provided those genes that allow us to develop that sixth sense. But we have discarded that evolutionary leap and instead made efforts to fit in with everybody around us. Maybe we would understand what ghosts and spirits really are. Maybe we would be able to explain all the physical phenomenon that we have so far been unable to explain. Maybe we would no longer call those flying objects 'unidentified'. Maybe if we had more senses we would know that this world works with a fourth, fifth or sixth dimension.
But we have been blessed with faculties more powerful than any other being on earth - self consciousness, the ability to reason, logic and mathematics. Do these powers enable us to understand the truth of the world or are they simply allowing us to make sense of the world as we know it. In other words, would these powers enable us to discover the other qualities of the universe by bringing us out of our existing shells or do they impede our understanding by simply trying to haphazardly explain the world we live in?
Many of the theories and laws that we hold as hallowed truths are constantly being disputed by every new generation of thinkers and scientists who have new evidence to suggest that our current understanding of the world is flawed. The deeper understanding we develop of any field of study, the more unknowns we run into. Even Mathematics, a field of study we are proud to say is completely based on universal logic, cannot exist without crutches.Take for instance the imaginary number 'i', without which certain calculations in negative numbers is just plain impossible.
Is the body of knowledge we have accumulated since the dawn of consciousness of man taking us in a direction towards a better understanding of the universe or are we inserting imaginary numbers everywhere we run into things we cannot fathom so that we can believe we have a decent understanding of the world and gain some comfort in that almost baseless belief. Did we create the concept of 'God' in a similar effort?
My mind wanders and ponders these kinds of issues. I might be completely rambling and thinking with the wrong organ, but I thought I should put my thoughts down and let you guys offer your opinions and thereby help me make better sense of this world I don't fully understand. :)
However, what we are provided with is what we experience the world around us with. Just as the blind mole believes that it exists in a world filled with smells, we try to understand the world with the five senses we have been provided. What if we actually need more senses to make full sense of the world but the evolutionary process has just not been able to get us there yet.
What's worse is that maybe some of us have been provided those genes that allow us to develop that sixth sense. But we have discarded that evolutionary leap and instead made efforts to fit in with everybody around us. Maybe we would understand what ghosts and spirits really are. Maybe we would be able to explain all the physical phenomenon that we have so far been unable to explain. Maybe we would no longer call those flying objects 'unidentified'. Maybe if we had more senses we would know that this world works with a fourth, fifth or sixth dimension.
But we have been blessed with faculties more powerful than any other being on earth - self consciousness, the ability to reason, logic and mathematics. Do these powers enable us to understand the truth of the world or are they simply allowing us to make sense of the world as we know it. In other words, would these powers enable us to discover the other qualities of the universe by bringing us out of our existing shells or do they impede our understanding by simply trying to haphazardly explain the world we live in?
Many of the theories and laws that we hold as hallowed truths are constantly being disputed by every new generation of thinkers and scientists who have new evidence to suggest that our current understanding of the world is flawed. The deeper understanding we develop of any field of study, the more unknowns we run into. Even Mathematics, a field of study we are proud to say is completely based on universal logic, cannot exist without crutches.Take for instance the imaginary number 'i', without which certain calculations in negative numbers is just plain impossible.
Is the body of knowledge we have accumulated since the dawn of consciousness of man taking us in a direction towards a better understanding of the universe or are we inserting imaginary numbers everywhere we run into things we cannot fathom so that we can believe we have a decent understanding of the world and gain some comfort in that almost baseless belief. Did we create the concept of 'God' in a similar effort?
My mind wanders and ponders these kinds of issues. I might be completely rambling and thinking with the wrong organ, but I thought I should put my thoughts down and let you guys offer your opinions and thereby help me make better sense of this world I don't fully understand. :)
Saturday, January 08, 2005
What's it worth?
We walked hand in hand, on that slightly chilly fall evening. We took a slight detour towards the benches outside the museum as we were in no hurry to return home. It was a wonderful office party and even though she dreaded having to go back on Monday and see the same people again, we did have a good time. And it wasn't often that we had a real reason to dress up and look as good and as tipsy as we did.
"You look so cute with a bow tie. I could bite you right now!", she teased.
"If you like it that much I 'll wear it all the time from now on. You think this will look good with my 'Van Halen' T-Shirt?"
Much as it made me look like a waiter, I like the way I look in a tuxedo - gelled-back hair, sleek, black suit with a black satin lapel, a brilliant white shirt, gold cuff-links, wing-tipped oxfords and a bow tie. She was dressed in a black dress that accentuated her form, black heels, and a simple diamond solitaire pendant. It always surpised me that so little could make someone look so good. I was just considering how beautiful she looked, when she caught me.
"Eight years together, still not lost it, have I?", she said, nonchalant. I nodded my consent and held her closer.
People say that once you know what's in the package, you don't really care how it's wrapped, but this wasn't true for me. I knew who she really was from the inside. I had seen and experienced her realities, I had withstood her lies and I knew every one of her subtle expressions so well, that she could never play poker with me anymore. But this was what I cherished deep inside my heart. There were the precious things only I knew. Only I held her decoder ring.
Just then, we turned around a bend and almost walked into a man standing there. It was odd that he would be standing right around a corner on this lonely street. It occurred to me that we might be in trouble, but as correct as my deduction might have been, it was important for me to play the part and simply try to excuse myself and walk away.
"Excuse me, I didn't see you there. I almost walked into you and spilt your coffee. Sorry about that." Saying that, I tried to make our way around him when he put a step in my way.
Love, being an unquantifiable state or quality was a little confusing to an objective and logical man that I was. Therefore, in order to understand it better in the metrics I lived my life in, I had imagined the both of us in several situations of varying degrees of danger and my reactions in each of them.
For instance, if there was tree falling on us, I would push her out of the way and then try to save myself. If we were skiing together and I lost control and was heading towards her, I would just force myself to dive into the snow. If she was coming at me, I would take the hit and stop her before she ran into the trees.
But in case of a mugging, I had always thought that the mature and logical thing to do was to simply hand over the wallet as we could always make money another day. But I know that there are some really crazy people out there, so if the thug made any advances towards my wife, the weapon he was threatening us with would be used against him, be it at the risk of my loosing my life. It was all clearly laid out in my head. I had planned it out meticulously. I had considered that there would be a lot of adrenaline rushing through all of us. I would have to move slowly and always indicate what I was doing lest he thinks I am reaching for a weapon. I would hand over the wallet smoothly and cause no rush of any sort; tell him how much money there was and then simply ask him to leave us in a non-threatening way. Looking down at the ground all the time was important not only for the sake of assuming a non-threatening pose but to also indicate that I would not be able to identify him to the cops later on.
But I never wanted to put these things to the test. But here it was. So I just reacted the way I had always trained myself to do. Just as a soldier in a battle acts by instinct rather than by thinking, I quietly reached into my pocket for my wallet and handed it to him, told him there was four hundred dollars and that we simply wanted to leave without any trouble.
Having acted and delivered my line perfectly, I waited for the result. As nothing came for two seconds, I looked up to see a man with a quizzical expression on his face. He paused for a second, handed me my wallet back and said,
"What the hell have you been drinking? I am a detective of the PPD. This is a crime scene, you cannot walk this way. Take the next street over."
Mortified, I turned around to face her only to be met with that expression on her face that said, "I should have left you long ago!"
"You look so cute with a bow tie. I could bite you right now!", she teased.
"If you like it that much I 'll wear it all the time from now on. You think this will look good with my 'Van Halen' T-Shirt?"
Much as it made me look like a waiter, I like the way I look in a tuxedo - gelled-back hair, sleek, black suit with a black satin lapel, a brilliant white shirt, gold cuff-links, wing-tipped oxfords and a bow tie. She was dressed in a black dress that accentuated her form, black heels, and a simple diamond solitaire pendant. It always surpised me that so little could make someone look so good. I was just considering how beautiful she looked, when she caught me.
"Eight years together, still not lost it, have I?", she said, nonchalant. I nodded my consent and held her closer.
People say that once you know what's in the package, you don't really care how it's wrapped, but this wasn't true for me. I knew who she really was from the inside. I had seen and experienced her realities, I had withstood her lies and I knew every one of her subtle expressions so well, that she could never play poker with me anymore. But this was what I cherished deep inside my heart. There were the precious things only I knew. Only I held her decoder ring.
Just then, we turned around a bend and almost walked into a man standing there. It was odd that he would be standing right around a corner on this lonely street. It occurred to me that we might be in trouble, but as correct as my deduction might have been, it was important for me to play the part and simply try to excuse myself and walk away.
"Excuse me, I didn't see you there. I almost walked into you and spilt your coffee. Sorry about that." Saying that, I tried to make our way around him when he put a step in my way.
Love, being an unquantifiable state or quality was a little confusing to an objective and logical man that I was. Therefore, in order to understand it better in the metrics I lived my life in, I had imagined the both of us in several situations of varying degrees of danger and my reactions in each of them.
For instance, if there was tree falling on us, I would push her out of the way and then try to save myself. If we were skiing together and I lost control and was heading towards her, I would just force myself to dive into the snow. If she was coming at me, I would take the hit and stop her before she ran into the trees.
But in case of a mugging, I had always thought that the mature and logical thing to do was to simply hand over the wallet as we could always make money another day. But I know that there are some really crazy people out there, so if the thug made any advances towards my wife, the weapon he was threatening us with would be used against him, be it at the risk of my loosing my life. It was all clearly laid out in my head. I had planned it out meticulously. I had considered that there would be a lot of adrenaline rushing through all of us. I would have to move slowly and always indicate what I was doing lest he thinks I am reaching for a weapon. I would hand over the wallet smoothly and cause no rush of any sort; tell him how much money there was and then simply ask him to leave us in a non-threatening way. Looking down at the ground all the time was important not only for the sake of assuming a non-threatening pose but to also indicate that I would not be able to identify him to the cops later on.
But I never wanted to put these things to the test. But here it was. So I just reacted the way I had always trained myself to do. Just as a soldier in a battle acts by instinct rather than by thinking, I quietly reached into my pocket for my wallet and handed it to him, told him there was four hundred dollars and that we simply wanted to leave without any trouble.
Having acted and delivered my line perfectly, I waited for the result. As nothing came for two seconds, I looked up to see a man with a quizzical expression on his face. He paused for a second, handed me my wallet back and said,
"What the hell have you been drinking? I am a detective of the PPD. This is a crime scene, you cannot walk this way. Take the next street over."
Mortified, I turned around to face her only to be met with that expression on her face that said, "I should have left you long ago!"
Friday, January 07, 2005
Chalne ke pehle tanik dekhke payr rakhiye!
Mehfil bhari huin thi, shaam jawaan tha. Ustad abhi tak laapata the, par sab logon ke cheron par muskuraahat tha. Isthihaar kaiee dinon se, sheher ke kone kone pe lagaaye gaye hone se ek bhi tashreef khaali nahin tha. Ha, aur Ustad Charan Biryaanee Khaan bhi bahot mashoor the!
Usi bhari mehfil mein ek nawjawaan apne katore leke logon ko sabjiyaan bechte huen nikal raha tha. Usi waqt duniyaan ke mashoor, Lahore ke Shahensha, Laapata gali ki noor-e-taj, Ustad Charan Biryaanee Khaan stage pe padhaare. Logon ke chehre pe se muskaan hat gaya; uh, itni kadar thi unke liye!
Ustad mike uthaaye, aur logon mein hulchal ho gayi.
“Huzoor, mujhe maarne deejiye!” log bol…uh….nahin rahe the!
Kuch daer baad, sab log chup ho gaye, aur Ustad Charan Biryaanee Khaan ke labzon se motiyaan girne lage:
“Arz hai…”
“Wah wah! Huzoor, wah wah!”
Ustad apne priy shishy ko ek do second dekhe; shishy paan chaba rahe the.
“Arz hai.”
“Wah wah! Huzoor, wah…”
“Chupbe!”
Ha, tho Ustad keh rahe the:
“Taron ko koste ho tum…”
“Ustad woh last week ho gaya!”
Ustad kuch has kar bole, “Puraani hai!”
Koi peeche se bola, “Tho naya waala ugal saale!” Woh janaab unke behnoi the.
Ustad phir se has kar aage badhe:
“Arz hai:
Arre o sabjee bechne waale,
Gujarte ho tum uss galiyon mein,”
Ruk kar, effect ke liye phirse arz kiye:
“Abbe o sabjee bechne waale,
Gujarte ho tum uss galiyon mein,
Jahaan tamaatar ki zaroorat hai,
Par hai paayz tumhaare taraazoo mein.”
Ustad tanik turn karke apne shishy ko nihaare. Woh chup rehke paan chabaa rahe the. Thoda bahot bhaawuk hoke Ustad aage nikle:
“Himmat hain tere dil mein,
Kaabil hai tere haat,
Atthanni hai tere paaket mein,
Moti hai tere dimaak”
Ustad phir se apne sishy ko nihaare. Woh paan chabaa rahe the.
“Karoon tho karoon kya,
Boloon tho boloon kya?
Mere labj hai tujpe zaaya,
Boloonga tho samjhegi sirf meri aaya.”
Ustad apne shishy ko nahin nihaarte hue aage badhe.
“Rakhkhon apne paas jo log chaahe,
Bechonge tum jyaada,
Par karte ho tum jo man chaahe,
Rahoge tum bhikaari saala.
Meri baat maan,
Bechdo, behn-chod, apni gaadi,
Sabji mandi chod de,
Ghar waapas jaon, niklo abhi.
Tera kuch nahin hone waala,
Tu rahega sirf bhikaari,
Saale ja mar,
Jaakar kaheen.”
Unki shaayari khatam hote hee Ustaad apne sar jhukaake, mehfil ke sajjanon se aadaab kiye. Logon mein tehelka mach gaya. Ek ke oopar ek uchal rahe the. Koi kursi pe khada hua tha tho, koi mej pe. Ek ke baad ek Ustaad pe thu thu karke tamaatar phenkne lage. Tamaatr ki barsaat ho rahi thi – gande badbudaar tamaatar. Par, usme, ek bhi pyaas nahin tha.
Peeche, darwaaje ke baajoon mein, ek sajjan notein gin rahe the. Unke mooh pe ek delicate muskaan saja hua tha.
Aadaab huzoor.
Usi bhari mehfil mein ek nawjawaan apne katore leke logon ko sabjiyaan bechte huen nikal raha tha. Usi waqt duniyaan ke mashoor, Lahore ke Shahensha, Laapata gali ki noor-e-taj, Ustad Charan Biryaanee Khaan stage pe padhaare. Logon ke chehre pe se muskaan hat gaya; uh, itni kadar thi unke liye!
Ustad mike uthaaye, aur logon mein hulchal ho gayi.
“Huzoor, mujhe maarne deejiye!” log bol…uh….nahin rahe the!
Kuch daer baad, sab log chup ho gaye, aur Ustad Charan Biryaanee Khaan ke labzon se motiyaan girne lage:
“Arz hai…”
“Wah wah! Huzoor, wah wah!”
Ustad apne priy shishy ko ek do second dekhe; shishy paan chaba rahe the.
“Arz hai.”
“Wah wah! Huzoor, wah…”
“Chupbe!”
Ha, tho Ustad keh rahe the:
“Taron ko koste ho tum…”
“Ustad woh last week ho gaya!”
Ustad kuch has kar bole, “Puraani hai!”
Koi peeche se bola, “Tho naya waala ugal saale!” Woh janaab unke behnoi the.
Ustad phir se has kar aage badhe:
“Arz hai:
Arre o sabjee bechne waale,
Gujarte ho tum uss galiyon mein,”
Ruk kar, effect ke liye phirse arz kiye:
“Abbe o sabjee bechne waale,
Gujarte ho tum uss galiyon mein,
Jahaan tamaatar ki zaroorat hai,
Par hai paayz tumhaare taraazoo mein.”
Ustad tanik turn karke apne shishy ko nihaare. Woh chup rehke paan chabaa rahe the. Thoda bahot bhaawuk hoke Ustad aage nikle:
“Himmat hain tere dil mein,
Kaabil hai tere haat,
Atthanni hai tere paaket mein,
Moti hai tere dimaak”
Ustad phir se apne sishy ko nihaare. Woh paan chabaa rahe the.
“Karoon tho karoon kya,
Boloon tho boloon kya?
Mere labj hai tujpe zaaya,
Boloonga tho samjhegi sirf meri aaya.”
Ustad apne shishy ko nahin nihaarte hue aage badhe.
“Rakhkhon apne paas jo log chaahe,
Bechonge tum jyaada,
Par karte ho tum jo man chaahe,
Rahoge tum bhikaari saala.
Meri baat maan,
Bechdo, behn-chod, apni gaadi,
Sabji mandi chod de,
Ghar waapas jaon, niklo abhi.
Tera kuch nahin hone waala,
Tu rahega sirf bhikaari,
Saale ja mar,
Jaakar kaheen.”
Unki shaayari khatam hote hee Ustaad apne sar jhukaake, mehfil ke sajjanon se aadaab kiye. Logon mein tehelka mach gaya. Ek ke oopar ek uchal rahe the. Koi kursi pe khada hua tha tho, koi mej pe. Ek ke baad ek Ustaad pe thu thu karke tamaatar phenkne lage. Tamaatr ki barsaat ho rahi thi – gande badbudaar tamaatar. Par, usme, ek bhi pyaas nahin tha.
Peeche, darwaaje ke baajoon mein, ek sajjan notein gin rahe the. Unke mooh pe ek delicate muskaan saja hua tha.
Aadaab huzoor.
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