What's your Catch Phrase?

Dad and Younger Son (YS) are having a bed time chat.

YS, referring to his elder brother:  “What do you think is his catch phrase?”

Dad: “I don’t think he has one. I don’t think anyone in our house has a catch phrase or a pet phrase”

YS: “Every time he keeps telling me - How would you feel if your son did something like this? – I think that is his catch phrase”  

Dad: “That, he is just saying because you are always doing some or the other mischief and doing some hazardous, risky stuff, and he wants you to be safe and understand things from my perspective.”

YS: “But it is so annoying!”

Dad: “Maybe what you are doing is also annoying for him. You have to understand, be considerate and look at things from other’s perspective also na? ….. Anyways, do you have any catch phrase of yours?”

YS: “I don’t know. You tell. You are listening to me. You know”

Dad: “I don’t think you have any. Do you think I have any catch phrase?”

YS: “You don’t have any catch phrase, but you keep singing weird songs, and that is very annoying, especially when I am studying or doing my homework”

And just as he said that, dad ejects his usual periodic wind “ptttt prrr ptt ptt ptt prr ppttt ptt prrrr pttt …..” and a reeking stench engulfs the room.

YS jumps up and begins to run out of the bedroom screaming:  “Oh my God…….. What is this?”

Dad: “It is Diwali my son. I am just bursting some safe crackers.”

YS, as he is running out covering his nose “This is very annoying. You must have some decency” and further adds dad’s advice verbatim “You have to understand, be considerate and look at things from other’s perspective also na?”

Few minutes later when the stench has subsided, YS walks in and tells “Papa, you don’t have a catch phrase. You have a fart phrase”

Dad replies: “Like this?” and goes on again “ptttt prrr ptt ptt ptt prr ppttt ptt prrrr pttt …..”

YS screams  “Oh no! Again?” and runs out of the bedroom warning everybody of the hazard in the master bedroom.

कैसे बत्लाऊ में ........

कैसे बत्लाऊ में, में कितना चाहता हूँ तुम्हे

कैसे मनाऊ तुम्हे, के तुम भी चाह लो मुझे

क्यूँ मेरी बातों का नहीं करती यकीन तुम

क्यूँ कहती हो में जूठा हूँ, नहीं प्यार मुझको

कैसे समझाऊं तुम्हे कैसे यकीन दिलाऊं

के जिसने चुराया है नींद-ओ-चैन मेरा, वो तुम ही हो

वो तुम ही हो, जिसकी हर बात खुश्बू सी सजती है

वो तुम ही हो, जिसकी हसी बारिश की बूँदों सी चुभती है

जिस के आने से, एक भीनी सी हवा चलती है,

वो तुम ही हो, जिस के ख्वाबों से मेरी महफ़िल सजती है

वो तुम ही हो, जिस में खो जाना चाहता हूँ में

वो तुम ही हो, जिस में हर वक़्त खोया रहता हूँ में

‘जाओ बात नहीं करनी’, बोल कर जब रूठ जाती हो

जाने अंजाने में मुझे मायूउस छोड़ जाती हो

में फिर रात भर तुम्हारी यादों में खोया रहता हूँ

अपने ही आँसुओं में खुद को भिगोया रहता हूँ

मिलोगि कभी तुम मुझे, यह ख्वाब पिरोए बैठा हूँ

मेरे हाथों में होगा तेरे हाथ, यह तस्वीर संजोए रहता हूँ

में जानता हूँ, बस झूठ परोसती हो तुम

‘नहीं चाहती में तुम्हे’, जब यह कहती हो तुम

याद है तुम्हे वो हर बात, जो है बरसो पुरानी

फिर भी कहती हो के ‘नहीं याद करती में तुम्हे कभी ‘

में जानता हूँ, मेरा खुदा जानता है

अपनी दुआओं में अक्सर मेरी खैरात चाहती हो तुम

अपने हाथों में थामे मेरे हाथ,

मेरी आँखों में डाल के अपनी आँखें

कह दो एक बार बेझिझक, नहीं चाहती हो मुझे

चलो, यह भी आज़माइश, तुम कर ही लो ……

मुझ को जला कर, तुम खुद की अग्नि परीक्षा कर ही लो

ख्वाहिशों को मेरी मोक्ष, तुम तार ही दो

में जानता हूँ, तुम कभी यह ना कर पओगि

अपनी चाहत को भले ही छुपा लो, कभी ना जुठला पाओगि

क्यूँ की, जब भी मुझे छूओगि, मुझ से नज़रे  मिलाओगि,

मेरे नबस में अपनी धड़कन, आँखों में खुद की तस्वीर पाओगि

फिर कैसे यह झूट दोहराओगि, कैसे होठों को अपने समझाओगि

नहीं प्यार हम में, यह कैसे सिद्ध कर पाआओगी?

Exams and all…

Those who know me well, or those who have read my blogs know that I have had an unusual kind of relationship with exams; some of you may term it as ‘complicated’. Now, for some time I was living in a state of bliss, believing that my trysts with exams are all over, and that’s what I thought, but now it has returned to haunt me in the form of my lads’ struggles.

As my boys struggle and break their head with their version of aliens, Miss. Manga Malayalam and Mr. Jhandu Hindi, I am dragged back into my very own fear zone. In many ways, I fear that I will end up becoming my own parents, or the parents of my close friends, whose acts I largely despised. Remember their acts of going to the terrace and turning the TV antennae in the wrong direction, so that we lost signal reception, or their act of hiding away the VCR, the audio cassette player and our Tinkles and Amar Chitra Kathas, and then telling our playtime friends in typical Malayalam accent “o nehi aa segtha … o pedh reha hai… thum jaao ….ooska exham hei”. This writing is just to tread past that fear by making it all sound comic and insignificant to myself.

Until last year, the exam pattern in CBSE schools was so very convenient. Kids had to just study the portions for a particular trimester and then forget all about it after the exams. Now the shitty guys in the Centre have gone back to that same archaic system that traumatized my generation, and it just gave me a shattering current of déjà vu down my spine, when wifey informed that the lads will have to study the whole book for their final exams! Set aside that shocker, she only added salt to the wound, when she said that, maybe Mr. Jhandu Hindi won’t go away after one finishes Secondary School, and that he will stay on to haunt the family through the kid’s Higher Secondary schooling. I am crestfallen; feel roasted, shaken, stirred, abused et al, some of which are unmentionable here.

As the only adult male in the house, I took it upon me as my moral responsibility to find a solution to this problem that has besieged it, and was also working towards making a robust counter attack plan,  but it so happens that I have been asked by the High Command ‘not to interfere’. More shaken, more stirred and more what not! But on second thoughts, I think she was right. What counter attack plan can you expect from a man who tutors his son about the ‘Desi Maals of Bhojpur’ when asked to teach ‘Decimal System of Mathematics’ or form the guy who until recently thought that the feminine gender of ‘Pea-cock’ is a ‘Pea-pussy’.

Yes, academics is not my forte, and beating the juggernaut of exams convincingly is not one at all. I can tell this with conviction recalling my many humiliating encounters with it in the past. My 1^st semester exams in Engineering gave me a whopping 6 back papers, the ordeal of back papers continued through until my 7^th semester, where at one point of time I was sitting proudly upon a pile of 14.

In many ways I have polished my skill in writing by scribbling fiction in my answer sheets. Sitting through exams for Science, Management and other such descriptive subjects were easier and pleasurable too, because it gave me a lot of scope and space to write. I have made some marvelous discoveries, inventions and written some profound, yet rib tickling and thrilling short stories in some of my Science and Management answer sheets, alas all of those papers are now lost. One incident that I can recall in particular is when I was doing my Masters in Ahmedabad. In my hostel, we were preparing for our Project Management Exam which was due next day, when my Brother-In-Law dropped in, and suggested me to join him at his place promising that he would drop me back the next day just in time for the exam. Now, since his newly wed wife had asked him to go and get her brother, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and on the other side, my friends and classmates advised me against it, and wanted me to stay back and prepare for the test. My BIL threw in his final bait, the ram-baan, or should I call it a Chapatti shaped Sudarshan Chakra. He said that my sister was making phulkas for me, and by God, let me tell you, no one makes better phulkas in this world than my sisters. I had to bite the bait, although my jealous roomies tried to hold me back, I left. Next day the exam went well. As usual I wrote all that I had learnt and filled the pages with the right Project Management theories, rationale, doctrines and what not. I was really happy with my work, and even went on to poke my jealous friends’ envy bones describing the soft fluffiness of the phulkas, and the feeling of bliss one experiences when one relishes those tender, succulent chicken pieces right from the warm rich, spicy, aromatic chicken curry that my sister had prepared and had my mom’s trademark seal all over it. My mouth still goes watery when I think about it, but let me tell you, on that day, when the answer sheets were distributed I watered not only from my eyes, but also all the unmentionable places in my body as my professor and classmates had a field day discussing my revolutionary Project Management ideas in the classroom. On that fateful day, my love affair with Miss Phulka died. Although I have remained a foodie, I haven’t looked back at that bread with fondness ever since.

  

My worst enemies were always Mathematics, Analysis or anything that had to do with complex engineering calculations. Most of the times, my Mathematics, Mechanics and Structural Analysis answer sheets returned with zeroes all over them. It is a fact that I have contributed more zeroes to Mathematics than the great Aryabhatta or Brahmagupta or Bhaskara or any other great mathematician that has walked the Indian soil, but whatever, I have never let those achievements corrupt my humility and humbleness. I think, and I believe that it is one of my greatest rewards and God’s appreciation of my great valor and fortitude that my lads are finding dealing with numbers and complex formulae a cakewalk. My wife however has the funny misconception that this is her lineage and tutorage. How silly of her!

Now, it is not that my very own tortuous affairs with exams ended with my college days, I did face some big exams after that and I must humbly inform that I did come out with flying colors out of them, although I know that my examiners must be now regretting their decision to pass me. J The first one was when I passed an unwritten test, and a silly girl finally agreed to marry me. Later, with a lot of help from my friends and colleagues, I did clear two online exams for professional accreditations. As of now, I am already due to take one more such accreditation exam, which I have already procrastinated for 4 years. Now hey, it is not that I am scared or anything, it is just that I want to give this test its due time. I am planning to take that exam by the end of this year, and when I do that, I am planning to take a week off from work and everything else, shut myself in the store room on the top floor, throw off my mobile phone, shut off the wifi in my house and ban friends and family from my life. You know drastic times require drastic measures.

But frankly, it is my opinion, that whoever you are and whatever your age or gender be, exams, its preparation and its results must not flutter or fluster you. It must not disrupt your normal life. It pains when I see these little lads and their parents going through all the stress, and it hurts when I see that they have to sacrifice their precious ipad, TV and play time, confined to a desk and a chair, behind a pile of books, with the only sight of a fuming, overzealous tutor of a parent in the front. This sight is really disheartening.

Life must go on as normal. We must play, we must engage in our routine sports, we must do our extracurricular stuff, we must party, and we must have our family gatherings, rituals and functions. These things must not stop or be discontinued or even take a break because of some routine exam. That reminds me, we are invited for two parties this weekend, and both are sure to have lots of exotic spicy Indian food, awesome company and both the invitations come with unwritten assurances that the night will be totally laced with ghee and glee. Of course, we won’t be able to make it; we will be busy confined to our desk and chair, hidden behind books, preparing for the exams.

Times spent with her

Waiting for her time is a good as being with her 
because every minute that I wait, 
I am filled with her thoughts
and every thought that I think..... she is mine
She listens to me, never objects
Tends to my request, never denies
She stays with me, never leaves...
then she comes along and takes me to new high
and then, when it is time... she leaves
and I repeat that same rigmarole all over again

A PRAYER FROM OUR DEPARTED

They make us cry, now that they are gone

Yet, make us smile, with each memory

Their still photo frames remind us of the emptiness

But when we close our eyes, they are back to life

Just close our eyes, and we can see them

Take a deep breath, and we can feel their scent

Listen to the silence, and we can hear them talk

Stretch out our arms, and we can touch them

They are here, somewhere around, not gone

Not forever

For, forever they are here, as long as we are alive

Living in our hearts, instilled in our memories

Reminding us, about the times that we’ve share

The good ones and the not so bad

Our hugs, our kisses, our fights and our misses

That secret spot forever in our heart,

Yet the needless grudge that took us apart

“Time is short”, they say from the heavens of our heart

“Raise your souls, open your arms, wake up.

Share a meal, say a prayer, talk, reconcile, make up.

For when one is gone, the rest will mourn,

left with a needless scar that was so easy to heal,

with just a hug, a tear, a sorry, a thank you,

that came from a true heart, which was real”

Note: Wrote this for the 'In Memoriam' section in our 2017 'Baby Beach Cousins' family Calendar

मुस्कुरा देना

आज बीती गम की शाम सही, 

इस रात को भी बीत जाने दो

कल फिर एक नया सवेरा आएगा, 

खुशिया भर के लाएगा

कल फिर बारिश होगी हल्की हल्की, 

फिर फूल मुस्कुराएँगे 

भावरे भिन्न भिन्नाएँगे, 

चिड़िया चह चाहाएँगे

गीली मिट्टी की खुश्बू लेकर, 

ताज़ी हवायें आएँगी 

छू कर तेरे गालो को, 

तेरे बालो को उड़ाएगी 

फिर चूम के अंखियो को

तुझे प्यार से जगाएगी

तुम बीते कल को भूल कर, 

होठों को तिरछा करकर, 

चलो, ग़लती से ही सही 

मगर थोडा मुस्कुरा देना, 

ज़िंदगी को सबाह देना

इस नये दिन को दुआ देना

जिस ने गुदगूदाया तुम्हे,

वक़्त बे वक़्त हासाया तुम्हे

झूठी बातें बोल कर

जिस ने हौसला दिलाया तुम्हे

अपने ही अंदर छुपे 

उस सरकार को सदा देना

तुम बस …… एक बार मुस्कुरा देना

एक बार मुस्कुरा देना 

Like a Rainbow

She is like that flower
Drenched in the rain
Warm, moist, wanting
Eyes closed, but yet not
Lips like petals, tender, lazy
Shy, shining, wet, inviting
Enticing, calling out the sun
“come out and shine on me” She says
“through the stained glass window”
“filter your rays, paint me a rainbow”
 

I am the bee, that shiny stud

That sits on her nose
My eyes locked, lost into hers,
Mesmerized, spellbound, melting
My lips desirous, though left wanting
Wish I could glide along those tresses
Careless, casual, desultory
Fallen across her visage
Painted in beautiful colors
Like the rainbow

I wake her up and hum her my best ode

She pretends asleep

smiling, twitches the corner of lips, cheeks glisten

I walk my fingers over her belly

she wriggles, she writhes, crackles and giggles

and shakes her body like a jelly

Heavenly, luscious, divine, Irressitible

I pull back, I try to, but I can't hold the sting

violetty blue to orangish red, grows on her my hickey

Like a rainbow