Funny how we think we are masters of our own fate and then barges in “karma.”
Funny how we think we are masters of our own fate and then barges in “karma.”
When actions speak louder than words then why is a pen mightier than a sword?
We have all been hearing the cliche expression, “actions speak louder than words” and are apparently in doldrums when we hear such banal quotes. While I was making running notes in a lecture, this absurd statement crossed my mind, “a pen is mightier than a sword.” A sword is analogous to action and a pen to words. This judgement draws me to a state of confusion and conclusion that words exert more power than actions which blatantly contradicts the former quote.
These contrary expressions are gnawing my brain ever since I thought of them.
So many years have passed; almost seven. Seven years and I’m still counting. Isn’t it the best thing I can do? To count.
I can sense her presence around me but my senses betray me all the time. I’m sure she still think about me and she is with me but will she be with me after this? I do not know and I do not intend to know either. I clearly remember her promising me the future, assuring me she will be with me till the end. What if tomorrow is my end? Will she know about my death? And if she does, will she know the cause of it? I’m being paranoid or maybe I’m over reacting. These thoughts keep prying my mind, frightening my lonely fragile heart that I have surrendered to her as long as I remember.
The first time I saw her was in my school playground with pigtails wagging on her head. To be honest, she never looked attractive in those. Who did, anyway? The time when I had fallen for her when we were incidentally at the same party. The moment I laid my eyes on her was the moment she became my reason to live. That red piece of cloth just above her knees and her brown hair which were in pigtails were now let loose. How could I forget? She looked stunning. I lured her into my friendship and then into my love.
Two thousand five hundred and forty one days have passed. I’m sitting on this unfortunate bench in this peaceful park where the strings attached between two souls were broken. She walked away from me and never turned back. Birds hummed along with the trees and the wind caressed my hair as if trying to show me it’s support.
I had promised her I would be waiting for her however long she took. I did. I visited this place every weekend the way we used to when she was mine. She still is, I hope. I knew it was my mistake but how could someone humane like her take so long to forgive me? Wasn’t I her best asset? I ‘ve tried to contact her ever since, never losing hope for once, but it was to no avail. If she was so stubborn in holding on to her ignorance, then so was I. I had become a recluse keeping myself away from the rest of the world always wishing for a day when she will realize my importance and come back running to me.
Today is not an unusual day yet I feel gauche, something is stirring inside me. The silence looks like the one that before a storm. I see a chubby boy around the age of three playing at a farway distance engaged in his little ball without a care of what’s happening around. He reminds me of someone. Seeing him makes me feel of my own children. It makes me feel happy. He kicks his ball and it lands on my bench. I pick it up and examine it. He comes to me asking me to return his toy. I hand it over to him inquiring, “what’s your name child?” He snatches the ball from me and runs away muttering something in shallow breaths. From what I depicher, it sounds, “Mama said don’t talk to strangers..” He goes to a woman and holds her tightly in an embrace. The lady turns around. I stare in disbelief! The same brown hair. The same arcadian eyes. The same rosy complexion. The same garden. But with a different man. I saw her. She saw me. Our eyes met. Her eyes didn’t reveal the slightest hint of recognition. How could she? Was I so changed after she left? The answers lie within herself. Gathering my thoughts I stood and walked away. The child was right,
“I am a stranger in a strange land.”
Dr.APJ Abdul Kalam started his career as a newspaper vendor ending up becoming the first citizen of India and also it’s eleventh President. His life full of struggle and hard work never makes me stray the path of my dreams. He makes me believe everything is possible if worked for it diligently. An awesome “missile man” with awesome ideas!
“Mumbai, a city springing with life, is the wosrt place on earth for tourists”, observes a TripAdvisor Survey. To the locals taking pride in being a Mumbaikar, I’d say, jump off cloud 9!
Are you confident enough to say that you know this city well? Well, it’s time to put your wisdom at test!
If you haven’t been through these excruciating and enchanting experiences, you haven’t known Mumbai at all.
1) Rain Rain go away, never come again another day!
Needless to say, the monsoon of Mumbai is one of the most popular which has left the city crippled. With water logging, water shedding, leaks in drainage and so much more have kept us struggling with problems too many. For some, it seems pleasing but for most of us it tops the ” getting rid of” list. The place is most unhygenic during this period with stinking garbage consuming more areas of the roads than vehicles can! The streets are so commonly loaded with trash that without it Mumbai would look anything but Mumbai. And if you haven’t waded through the knee deep water of Mumbai, you haven’t known the miraculous city all together!!
2) Vada Pav
The spicy deep fried mashed potato balls bathed in flour and clothed in a soft bun called pav is the city’s favourite recipe. This typical blend of spices which is cheap, hygienic as well as fulfilling is found in every corner of every street of Mumbai. Seems to be a local version of McDonald’s Aloo Tikki burger! Mumbaiyaa Style!
3) Beep! Beep! Beep!
Here, the traffic jams are an astonishing phenomenon. Vehicles never seem to budge in any time of the year. Summers are torturing while monsoons are even more! Drivers spend a hectic day cursing and abusing whoever comes their way. The speedometer hits 10-30km/hr on an average day.
This massive traffic and continual honking has tormented each one of us and will continue to do so.
(A piece of advice would be to carry your knitting set while travelling long distance.)
4) Rail, making me wail!
Mumbai local trains are yet another disaster. You are a very fortunate person if you have the privilege of being seated in the local trains. The rush hours of morning and evening does not even permit to step on board. Mumbaikars possess superhuman qualities of jumping in and out of the train while foreigners beat the brow to figure out the whole local train system. A live example of unity in diversity is displayed in the snapshot above. And while you are travelling in Mumbai local trains, just go with the flow!
5) Beggars (3 din se khaya nahi Sahab!)
There is not a single traffic signal deprived of beggars. You will certainly find them on each pavement changing shifts from time to time. Their working hours are from 9am-9pm and if they are on a night shift the time changes from 9pm-3am. These panhandlers are seen everywhere with a severed hand or a blind eye or a faked limp. Although their income generation in a day is sufficient to feed them for two long days, they are hungry as ever! It becomes difficult to unmask their identity. It has been revealed that luxurious beggars earn 1000-1500 rupees per day accounting to 30,000-45,000 per year. So if you haven’t encountered and pitied a beggar you haven’t known Mumbai all along!
(Note: No content of this article is meant to hurt/degrade/offend anyone. It is purely on the basis of personal observation.)