Revisiting 26/11...

It is 26/11 once again! All of us have been ranting and raving about the whole thing...lots of people lost their lives in this entire mess. Post-26/11, yet again people thought that justice would happen, but somewhere as usual just like any bomb blast happens, the plot once again got lost in translation...media debates, Pakistani terrorist Kasab's arrest, Home Minister P Chidambaram warning Pakistan and screaming out its involvement in the blasts, Pakistan yet again playing mind games with India - denying proof and eye witness accounts. But what about the common man who lost everything in these blasts? Did anyone really care about him? He got stuck in his life, either losing a family member or his dreams shattered because of losing a limb and much more psychological trauma - oh the crassness of it all! When will the destructive cycle end? Our main agenda must be to find out - what do they really want? I know that the answer is written clearly on the walls...yet an optimism exists that sometime, they too will get tired of playing 'bombing the city'! (a game we played in childhood) and come out in the open...Mumbai's 'spirits' were and have always been taken for granted by some cowards who take the megacity hostage at their whim and fancies. After all they succeeded in grabbing the world's attention. But, ironically, Mumbai moved on...but this time, voices of protests have become louder - demanding justice. Thanks to an alert Home Minister P Chidambaram, some sarkari things seem to have changed - making sure that the process of justice is more transparent and logical - where the previous Home Ministers failed! Ask any Mumbaiikar whether they want justice, all they have to say is 'we want peace' and the youth there 'just want a secure, stable nation where their dreams will be nurtured and fulfilled'. None of the media debates ever centre on rehabilitating the youth or taking measures to empower them to face any attacks with will and determination. Political parties just think of 'panels' to discuss the 'strategies' to counter their rivals over petty issues - leaving the country vulnerable and open to terrorists. Our leaders forget that a nation's inner strength are its youth - they are the ones to come forward and take the nation into the next millenium! So its not strategies thats required, its action thats needed now...Youth power can make or break a nation! Hoping that our Gen Y ministers will break the 'dirty politics' mould and help change the demography of India...

P.S.: This is not some kind of speech, but some pent-up emotions pouring out on my blog...

Below is a piece that I wrote last year on the day when the whole 'media' drama was happening. I was working in office that day and it really pained and really hurt me...so just thought of sharing my emotions with all of u...

My last year's blog: http://koffeewithpriya.blogspot.com/2008/11/eye-for-eye.html

For the most wonderful person in my life...

It took me quite a while to compose myself before writing about my Ammamma. Her loss is insurmountable to our family and we are reeling in the shock that God gave us on October 12, 2008.

I still cannot believe that it has been a year since the tragedy. I can still swear by her presence in our home and life. She is so embedded in my life that I can still hear her voice whenever I have to take a decision. I can hear her react to certain situations in her humorous sarcasms.

I learnt the word ‘unconditional love’ from my grandmother Mrs Indira K Pisharoti. Even after my grandfather's death, she looked after the whole family and kept herself strong for nearly 20 years. A role model for me and all those who knew her closely, she was my confidante, a buddy who knew most of my secrets and also the one who unconditionally supported me whenever I needed her.

A guiding light for many, she played a major role grooming me into the completely independent and bold woman that I am today. In fact, many of the close friends and relatives say I am her carbon copy in looks, attitude and nature! She supported me when I was taking my crucial decision to become a journalist and also when I wanted to take up Arts - accepted me for what I am and my identity.

My first memory of hers is when I learnt to call her Ammamma. I still remember the days when she used to make me carrot juice after school, making me sit on the kitchen platform and feeding me ghee rice with daal, holding my hands and taking me to the school bus stop and picking me up from there as well. And later, making my tiffin early in the morning during my college years. Her one wish that remained unfulfilled (to my regret too) was to see me working in Mumbai itself.

I remember very fondly of how she used to chide me whenever I cried – either because my mum hit me or when both my mamas bullied or teased me. She would always tell me one thing: ‘Don’t ever cry but react or hit back whenever you are hurt. And in case you feel like crying, then shut yourself in a room!’ She hated me sulking in a corner. That was my grandma – always motivating everyone to smile and ‘live life to the fullest’ was her funda and is mine too. 'Peace at all costs' was another one of her principles in life. She hated fights in our house and discouraged one and all for the same.

She adored both me and my cousin Rohan and since I was the first grandchild, I also was the privileged one to receive her love and unconditional support for 19 years! She had an infective optimism and laughter that was spread in each wall of the house she lived in. Wherever she went, she left an aura behind her.

My grandma had been fiercely independent all her life - she preferred to live alone in her own house even when she was under treatment and medication a whole year. However, fate had something else in store for her. Our world was shattered on March 5, 2008 when she suffered from brain haemorrage, slipped into semi-coma, lost her speech and also got paralysed on her right side. She was bedridden for seven months!

When I came to see her in the hospital, she was a transformed woman - from an independent and active person to a completely shrunk person who lad lost the will to fight for her life. She could hear everyone, but reverted her eyes whenever anyone came to see her - perhaps feeling ashamed of having become dependent on tubes and nurses to help her survive and also the feeling of hurting her loved ones.

I was however determined to bring her back from the hell she was in. After a lot of coaxing and cajoling, and my constant conversations with her, she began gripping my hand. That was a big miracle for the doctors and nurses and for me too - I realised ammamma was telling me something else too - 'I will be with you always!' She started maintaining eye contact with me. Whenever I came to meet her, she would smile. I used to wheel her around the hospital - taking her to the window - motivating her to get well soon. Doctors had begun noting her recovery. But the haemorrage had somehow taken away her survival instincts - thanks to heavy medication. Those seven months, I experienced a sense of desolation and a feeling of loneliness crept in. Somewhere I had also begun losing hope, though I prayed for a miracle from God.

I still prefer to keep her bubbly persona in my sweet memories that I have of hers. Jogging down the memory lane, I still see her smiling at me - motivating me all the time. The last time I met her before her death was on Oct 2, 2008 - my ammavan's birthday - she just looked at me and my mother for one and a half hours, gripping my hand. The world came crashing on my family as we all lost our life's anchor on Oct 12, 2008.

Trust me, she is still alive in our memories, our house and most of all our hearts!! Thanks a ton, ammamma for whatever you did for me and the person that I am today :)

Ever been in love with your childhood buddy?

Many friends have told me about how their friends have proposed to them and they got embarassed, but I have to confess that it was the reverse case for me: I am in love with my childhood friend and want to propose to him.
Neither was he a part of my gang, nor was I! But we shared a gang feeling ever since we met - in third standard. Funnily I remember tying rakhi to him and his elder bro - i stopped after I reached seventh standard. Maybe I thought it to be kiddish...
So, should'nt it have been a secure feeling to know that you love your childhood friend? Someone who has shared your ups and downs, pulled you out of the depths of despair and put you on Cloud Nine too...And the day, I realised that I was in love, very naturally, I confided in my childhood friend. Her maiden reaction was - "Wow! I am excited" and in the next moment, we simultaneously reacted: "No ways"! The reason being - how can you fall in love with your childhood buddy!
Insane as it sounded, in our own juvenile way, we decided to trash the whole thing - helping me 'overcome' rather ignore the feeling. We even promised each other not to mention this to anyone in the gang and then partied that night. But it stuck on - I changed cities - went to Kerala to study, then later went to work in Bangalore. All through, I kept missing him. I kept dilly-dallying in between 'should I' or 'should'nt I'...The next when I met him in Mumbai after a good long 4 years, I suddenly started feeling positive all over again.
And love is not something that goes away that easily. Whenever I spoke to him or the time he ignored my calls as he was busy with work - I truly missed spending time with him! I got a good opportunity - and could have made use of it too - to go to Nagpur for his elder bro's wedding. I was far too excited...I simply could not stop blushing the moment he came to pick me up from my aunt's place to his house. But somehow, I never mustered courage to tell him. Life goes on - as they say - in a cliched manner. We still remember the good old days that we spent together - about the days when I used to play in his house - three of us - his bro and me tumbling and wrestling each other, playing video games, later sharing notes about our poor academics then our bosses, sour relationships, turning to each other for 'love' advice etc - I simply feared losing all this! Almost a decade later, when I look back, I laugh and cherish that feeling. But at the same time, somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart, I still regret why I did not tell him. But you never know when life takes a sudden U-turn. And all the same, I still have hopes left. Motivated by buddies, I feel am ready to go pop the question! So all you guys and girls out there, take a risk and tell your best friend if you love him or her. You never know what might happen next...One thing I learnt from a close buddy of mine - she says - At least U wont have a regret that u didnt listen to ur heart at the right time.

From spoit brats to 'Lil babies'!

"Ninth grader from plush Santacruz school stole from parents; school refrains from stern action; asks him, parents, to go for counselling... We've heard of cases of students flaunting their wealth in school. But, in a case that attracted eyeballs from everyone at the Lilavatibai Podar Senior Secondary School in Santacruz, a 14-year-old student from Std IX was found with a sizeable wad of cash that he had stolen from his father's vault." (Read full story)
This is an excerpt of a shocking news item that I found in a leading Indian newspaper.
To what extent do kids go to these days to flaunt their wealth and status? A dangerous trend described by psychologists, urban kids these days have become extremely 'class-conscious'! My mother works in a popular school run by bureaucrats and IAS officers in the Capital. She narrates stories of how students misbehave with teachers in the school, throw 'starry' tantrums and how rich mommies come running to school because their 'li'l baby' (a ninth standard hulk) was 'hurt' emotionally by his teacher. Little knowing about their 'baby' ka karnamas (breaking window panes, bulbs in the classroom with footballs, bursting firecrackers in washrooms and bullying the younger/weaker kids). Initially it all looked so filmy to me. But then a greater reality dawned on me - busy and rich parents pampering their children - buying them expensive gifts and giving 'too much attention' to their 'babies'. Never mind! I am proud that my mum - in spite of 'rich' mommy complaints, does'nt 'give in' to these tantrums. Instead she gives them the entire 'report' of their rich n spoilt brats - not giving them a chance to justify their deeds.
Just because they pay higher fees, does'nt give them license to do as they please or misbehave with teachers. I now realise the importance of our old teachers' maxim: 'Spare the rod and spoil the child'!

Epitaph for my lost mobile

An epitaph for my lost mobile 3100: You came into my life when I needed you the most! You recorded the best and worst moments of my life (in photographs). You were the one who helped me talk to my my friend, philosopher and guide! I shall remember you ALWAYZ..I just wish u happiness wherever you are....ALVIDA! :D
Anyone who wants to pay last tributes to my 'late' cell can do so...right here!

Ad-filmmaker Prasoon Joshi expresses his grief...

Is baar nahin
Is baar jab woh choti si bachchi mere paas apni kharonch le kar aayegi
Main usey phoo phoo kar nahin behlaoonga
Panapney doonga uski tees ko
Is baar nahin
Is baar jab main chehron par dard likha dekhoonga
Nahin gaoonga geet peeda bhula dene wale
Dard ko risney doonga,
utarney doonga andar gehreyIs baar nahin
Is baar main na marham lagaoonga
Na hi uthaoonga rui ke phahey
Aur na hi kahoonga ki tum aankein band karlo, garden udhar kar lo main dawa lagata hoon
Dekhney doonga sabko hum sabko khuley nangey ghaav
Is baar nahin
Is baar jab uljhaney dekhoonga,chatpatahat dekhoonga
Nahin daudoonga uljhee door lapetney
Uljhaney doonga jab tak ulajh sake
Is baar nahinIs baar karm ka hawala de kar nahin uthaoonga auzaarNahin karoonga phir se ek nayee shuruaat
Nahin banoonga misaal ek karmyogi ki
Nahin aaney doonga zindagi ko aasani se patri par
Utarney doonga usey keechad main,tedhey medhey raston pe
Nahin sookhney doonga deewaron par laga khoon
Halka nahin padney doonga uska rang
Is baar nahin banney doonga usey itna laachaar
Ki paan ki peek aur khoon ka fark hi khatm ho jaye
Is baar nahin
Is baar ghawon ko dekhna hai Gaur se
Thoda lambe wakt tak Kuch faisley
Aur uskey baad hausley
Kahin toh shuruat karni hi hogiIs baar yahi tay kiya hai

Mumbai attacks: A msg for the terrorists!

Dear friends across India and the world,
We're all feeling the shock of the awful attacks in Mumbai. All our hearts go out to the victims and their families. The attacks were aimed at our people, our prosperity and our peace. But their top target was something else: our unity. If these attacks cause us to turn on each other in hatred and conflict, the terrorists will have won. They know that hatred and chaos feed on division. As radical extremists, their only hope of winning is by turning the rest of us against each other. Let's deny them that victory. We're launching a message to extremists on all sides and all our political leaders, one that will soon be published in newspapers across India and Pakistan. The message is that these tactics have failed, that we're more united than ever, united in our love and support to each other, determined to work together against terror and call on our leaders to do the same. If millions of people sign it, our message will be unmistakable, click below to sign it and please forward this email widely:
http://www.avaaz.org/en/india_undivided/98.php/?cl_tf_sign=1
It's time to speak out, let's do it together.

Thanks,
Venkat Ananth