For the love of humanity.

It has been a year shorter than a decade that I have known the person who inspired this piece. For the purpose of maintaining anonymity and as a result of deep admiration and respect for what she does, I wish to simply refer to her as she.   

From who she was when I first met her to the person she has become, itself deserves a mention, not that it needs an authentication from me. A simple girl of the kindest heart, she started out with no real ambition. After schooling from the hills, she moved to the bustling environment of city life. She pursued a course as remote as such to the people of the region from where she hails from. It is after that, that life began unfolding in all its mysterious grandeur. 

She said, 'I wonder why God chooses to pose such a burden to these souls even before they get to start their lives.'

But she has a vision now. And it will live. Until then and forever, wishes and support. 

She became a part of those children's lives that are a reminder to us of our humanity. 

Remembering the Mahatma: Jan 30th, 2015

For certain is death for the born and certain is birth for the dead; 

Therefore over the inevitable, Thou shouldst not grieve.

He gasped, 'He Ram!'.
Then a lifeless little bundle, he slowly sank to the ground, his hands still frozen in the final gesture to which his spirit had commanded them, a greeting to his assassin. 

Mahatma Gandhi achieved in death what he had striven for in his last months of life. The sacrifice in the gardens of Birla House would stand as the climax of the triumph and tragedy which embraced the Indian subcontinent in 1947-48.

For the dead that dances around

Manamae, aavi ponapinaal un sadalam ondrukum udhavadhe

Manamae, thungum bothu un jeevan ponal yaadhum nee seithiduvai

Manamae, thayin garbathil irunthunai kaatha kannanai maravadhe

Manamae, arivai thandhavan aandavan allavo avarai nee maravadhe

Manamae, maaya ulagathil maratathane mayangi allaiyadhe

Poiyana valvai sadhamendru enni manathinil garvam nee kolladhe

The Translation:

Heart, the body is of no use once the soul is gone

Heart, what would you do if life slips by as you sleep?

Heart, do not forget Krishna who protected you when in womb

Heart, do not forget that it is He you gave you the intellect,

Heart, do not be deluded to play in this illusory world

Do not be think and grow arrogant that life is just material.

Vision 2020

After helping him unpack the second-hand books from the white sack, I watched him arrange those for display on a red sheet. His name is Ajay. A young chap of 15 hailing from UP, Ajay goes to school on weekdays and sells books on weekends.

'Mai itni dur se aye hai. Mai apa ke sath ek photo lene ke liye nahi milta hai?' I asked

'Acchi nahi lag rahi', he replied and shied away.

A candid had to be clicked by the lemon soda vendor. I decided to purchase 'Turning Points', by Dr. APJ that aptly stands for the vision of young minds like that of Ajay's, at an unbargained price.

In the company of books, Ajay will grow up to be an asset to this nation.

Celebrating Womenhood...

That which is.

It is a deception to get ourselves reminded on this day that a woman is of great importance. It is not a reminder for we do not have to be reminded that the sun rises in the east.

In the limited experience that I have had with women of all age groups throughout, it comes as my existential duty to accord myself a place beside her and not the other way. It should be men giving themselves the honour of possessing the little intellect to acknowledge this fact. Bhishma Pitamaha knew this.

Men are not here to understand you; it is futile to ask us to be understanding. We are not capable of it. Nature has intended man to understand himself through a woman. 'Woman' does not stand for you alone. It stands for that energy which balances all that is; the yin of the yang, the sakthi of the shiva, the duality of this entire cosmos of which we are a part of. It is not only today that you take your full form in all glory.

idly sambar - a solace for the troubled twenties

Today as I was about to enter the office premises, there was an explainable flavor that permeated the air. Shops stood in straight lines that invited the IT crowd. The object of the invitation was a plate of idly & sambar. The invitees were men (mostly & there is nothing discriminating about it as there were no women around) logging in early working for corporate firms. Everyone having traveled through the city's heat and dust and traffic found solace at the white oval spheres (two precisely, as idlies are always sold in sets) served with sambar. 

I had my share of it with a little red chutney by the side. The shop owner served without expression. It was his bread and butter but if only he knew how much we all valued his service. In a time packed tight schedule when everyone is caught up with work, he sets a scene for us to go there and relax a few minutes without having to worry about choosing what to eat. You go there, order 'a plate' and it is served. There is no risk of side effects and consequences. 

For all those here in the land of idly sambar, there is no breakfast that could beat the magnanimity of this. I say this with an equal affection that I have for roti-sabji (I have to live most part of the year in the north). However, a humble admission of the fact that idly-sambar continues to remain an integral part of every man's life who is pursuing a job, a journey and ultimately a dream,