Thursday, August 20, 2009

Nostalgia--a grammar lesson?

Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson. The present is tense and the past perfect. It's so ironical that today when I think of the past--of school, of college life, my first job--it feels like a beutiful dream. But then, I wasn't content with what I had. Always wanting more...more late night permissions, more friends, more allowance...and now...when i reflect to those times...I can only think of how much I had...my mum, my dad--my life was so secure...I never acknolwdeged, never appreciated, I took for granted the love I had.
I don't do that any more. I cherish every moment, I live life to the fullest...I don't waste my time talking to people I don't want to. I speak only to those I love.
If I could reverse in time....i'd hold on tight...never let go of my mom and my dad...I'd hide them and let them take care of me...just like they used to...aah...nostaligia...the past is always perfect.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

What is magic?

He took a diamond ring, made it disappear, made it appear in the middle of a tomato he sliced before us. He told us to think of a flower, rub our knuckles together, and there it was! The fragrance of that flower on the back of our palm.
He called a friend, asked her to swallow a softball, of course she didn't. He then, proceeded to make her cough the ball out!
Are there magician's like him? No. of course not. Even he said that it's just an art he's mastered. But his dexterity, the ease with which he seems to have mastered the art--it seems just like magic to me.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Different hues, different smells...different senses...

Orange, green, blue, yellow, silver, and even rotten eggs. This year, Holi was a blast of colors and smells...(The eggs on my head dripped down the front of my face and my back till I literllay felt I'd have made for a tasty and colorful omellete!)
As soon as my husband woke up, he got doused with a big bucket of water.
Then, we decided to step out and brave the colorful spray with my sister.

The rest of the day was eventul...or maybe not so.
We locked ourselves our of the car...employed a unique underhanded way of opening the car..
had fun. Got dirty. went for a 1 year old's birthday party. argued about what we should give her. Had paaan instead of bhaaang.

The day was a blur. Colors had blinded our senses and our sensibilities.
I've played frou frou Holis before. Holi parties at fancy clubs. This was much more grounded. And definitely more fun!

Here's a tip for everyone who ends up playing Holi next year. Use gramflour to wash off the color. It's much more effective than soap.:)

Breathe!

8 months ago, I visited Ladakh. The place was so breathtakingly beautiful that it has taken me so many months to recover from my drunken state and get round to posting these photos. A must go!







Friday, March 13, 2009

Peacemeal

Peace means the knowledge that I’ll be safe in Kashmir, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, or even Pakistan. Am I just a utopian idealist? No. I’m not. This is my vision for global peace.
I’d like to tell you what peace means to me. I’d also like to tell the “peace-breakers” what peace means to me.

Dear Terrorist,

Why did you target my friend’s family at the Taj? What did they do wrong? What did I do right? Why don’t you want peace?

I’d like to point at the crowd, pick a face, and ask him/her if they have at least one Pakistani, one Afghani, one American, or one Czechoslovakian friend. Peace to me would be an affirmative answer.

I don’t know your nationality dear terrorist? But wouldn’t you really like that? Everybody likes a friend. Just try to make a friend in a county you hate. Your perspective will change, I promise.

I think the first thing every child in school should be taught is that we are all “globaritarians,” not Indians, Americans, or Africans.

We’ll all be global citizens. And then, dear terrorist you won’t have a reason to fight or be at war. A united world against a faceless tyrant—you won’t stand a chance. Be a winner, dear terrorist. Be a global citizen. Be a friend.

A train blast on the western line, a taxi in south Mumbai blew up—what is a safe means of transport? Must I really avoid public transportation in order to stay alive? And what guarantee do I have that I won’t be a victim anyway.

After the 26/11 attacks in Mumbai, I think the fear and the anger has only gained momentum. Who is responsible for putting a stop to it?

I think each one of us is responsible. Don’t worry dear friend. We know you are afraid. There is fear and insecurity in your heart. We’ll help you to be at peace in your heart so that you can be at peace with the world.

Someone I know when to Ladakh last year. She faced so much opposition because of her choice of destination. “It’s too close to Kashmir” they said. “It’s not safe”

Don’t you want to live life to the fullest, dear terrorist? Please let us to. I don’t want to limit my choices to places that are “safe” and places “unsafe.” Please lets let peace prevail.

We berate parents who abuse their children. Why don’t we berate parents who teach a child that Pakistani is India’s enemy? Or that you can marry anyone except a Muslim.

Don’t pass on your hatred my friend. We’re one global family. Let’s open our hearts and be more tolerant.

Love
Versa vice vera
Global citizen

It’s unfortunate that we can’t talk about peace without talking about war. I used this letter as a medium because I wouldn’t have been able to talk to “peace-makers” without talking to “peace-breakers”.