Tuesday, 18 October 2011

A ‘Deadly’ Career



While traveling to office every day, I pass by a lane that has hearse vans parked on both sides. Year on year whenever I see this place a strange feeling engulfs me. Today I saw few men working meticulously towards preparing the vehicle. They were giggling and having a good time at their job. My first reaction to this was how can one make a business out of a phenomenon called death?
As I began to calm my mind from this initial outburst, a host of services that we never really pay attention to come to my mind… A fact that we always prefer to shut our minds to
There is a whole range of occupations and businesses associated with this phenomenon right from the morgue attendants, to doctors who perform the post mortem procedures to crematorium operators to florists and grave diggers.
More peculiar ones associated with this sector of employment are the professional mourners as witnessed in the film ‘Rudali’ and another sect of Maharashtrian Brahmins community which specializes only in performing the last rites rituals for the departed. Long ago I had seen a play which sensitively describes the lives of this inauspicious sect and how they are always avoided during any auspicious occasion by the society.
On a lighter note, I would not be surprised if there are niche businesses like catering services and dress designers and even photographers for funeral ceremonies!
However, whenever I have thought about these people all I can do is have a pity on their lives and the kind of jobs that they perform. I wonder what goes in their minds when day in and day out they have to deal with the dead. For me, it’s a great effort even to clear out a dead cockroach out of the room…can’t imagine how these human beings live a life which is so stone hearted!
Pondering about this over the years, has led my thoughts in a different stream of thinking. To think of death as an event, I would describe it as -a person, who lives an honorable existence during his lifetime, is reduced to a mass of flesh and bones after his death. Within seconds we start referring to this honorable person as a ‘dead-body’ and immerse our efforts in a bid to dispose it off as quickly as possible.
There lies the key to the importance of these ‘Deadly’ careerists; of easing this process and graciously disposing the remains of the person! I think the only way to lead a peaceful life for those who fulfill these jobs are to assume a role of selfless service to the dead!
Recently I watched a Japanese movie named ‘Departures’ which beautifully portrays how a fulfilling career can be made out of assisting the departed person’s body on its journey gracefully and with dignity!
All in all, I always look up and salute these careerists because,
While a CEO in a large corporate can be easily replaced, I wonder whether the same would be true for a grave digger!

Monday, 17 October 2011

Its that time of the year again


Its that time of the year again
When we tend to forget all the pain
And not worry about the losses or gain
 dream about a holiday in Spain!

Walls and floors
Windows and doors
Back to fore
Are all polished to the core

Women in the homes toil
Deep fried in oil
Come the savories of the soil
Packed in sheets of silver foil

As the heat grows
Back at office the work slows
The shopping lists flow
Pretty ladies ensure their faces glow

Done with the exam fever
Tensions pushed down the sewer
Little children just so clever
 build mud forts by the river

As the darkness in the sky fills
Evil in the World it kills
Crackers that burst with a shrill
Lights and sounds define its thrill

The home coming ceremony of Lord Rama
Celebrated across the country with such drama
Festival of colour, lights and vigour
Bring back to life the crazy little murmurs

Its that time of the year again
When festive mood flows through our veins
Young and old in the same frame
 long awaited smiles they claim!

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Lost Dream…


It was a dream come true
When we only had a cue
That you would be with us soon
A joy we shared with only a few

The feeling of holding you in our hands
The bliss that would soon be canned
The little cries that you would make
Just for our attention drawing sake

We had known you only for a month
But the bond was like forever
Fruit of our love
Pure as a dove

As we wove our dream
In shades of pink and cream
From the high rise skies

God willed it otherwise

On one fine day
As I tread my normal way
A dream so near
Turned into a dark fear

Just like water slips from the palms
You drifted away into the calms
A life slipping away before birth
Like a smile from the mirth

A sorrow encompassed that we had never known
A plant that never emerged from a seed sown
Deep in our hearts a wound it made
That with years would never fade

In our memories you always remain
Today a tree emerges out of that grain
Under the tree as we wade
A unique love we experience in its shade

A lost dream that we find
A life not signed
Reminds us of the time
When God was not kind

Today we take our son
Under this tree
He hugs the stem with glee
As if he was embracing thee

A moment when time is slow
From our eyes the tears flow
Through the hearts that scream
Droplets of sorrow for a lost dream!

Saturday, 24 September 2011

To Heaven, Hell & Back

This morning my hubby was trying to get my naughty son to some discipline by mentioning to him that, ‘those kids who hit their parents have to go to hell’. So my innocent son asked curiously, what do they do there? Father explains to him that there is a huge frying pot with boiling oil…where these naughty children are placed!
As I laugh over this conversation, one thing that strikes me is it was the same story that I was told as a kid…about Heaven and Hell…
Good behavior reserves our ticket to the Heaven- a place where Gods live; also called Paradise and Jannat! ‘What is Heaven like?’ asks the curious child in me: Oh! Heaven is the most beautiful place in this Universe; it’s full of gardens, flowers and fruits! Angels and semi-gods welcome you at the gate; there are savouries and sweets everywhere; everyone here is with a pleasing smile and you have bright chances of meeting with God too! You can enjoy the rest of your time in Heaven, no work to be done, only wander around and enjoy the pleasures …
On the other hand, if you behave badly, you are sure to be taken to Hell. ‘So what happens if I go to Hell?’ quizzes the child in me. ‘You will be taken there in chains so heavy that you can barely walk! There you will find only demons with red scary eyes and two horns on their heads. They will fry you in hot oil and subject you to a lot of pain by punishing you with all the weapons they have. You will have to keep obeying to their orders even when your body and mind are withering in pain!’

Wow… what a description…enough to scare the hell (!) out of the little child!

 All a human imagination; places where none can certify a visit till date!

Since then I have always thought about my probable visits to these places…
Today I wonder, ‘Is life really all about going to Heaven and Hell? Is that the aim of life? Does Death mark the beginning of a new adventure to Heaven & Hell?
To me the adventure begins as we start growing up; the day we cease to be childlike; the day we know the consequences of what is rightful and wrongful behavior and action!
And the meeting with Heaven & Hell begins right there and then…we keep getting constant feedbacks for our thoughts, actions and deeds… To me, not Death but 'Life' is a place where we encounter Heaven and Hell
To me a vacation spent with family is Heaven; a bad day at office is Hell! The birth of a child is Heaven and loss of a loved one is Hell…A day spent with laughter is Heaven and an irritating toothache is hell; playing with your grandchildren is Heaven but spending that time in a hospital for a chronic illness is Hell; a sound sleep (whether on a ‘kurlon’ mattress or on a street) is Heaven whereas a sleepless, worrisome night even in the finest of the suites is Hell…
To me, if there is ever a place like Heaven and Hell anywhere, it is just here, just here, just here…..
 

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Sakhi

Sakhi was 31 years old and had a standard life. An educated girl, a working lady, a wife and a mother, a dutiful daughter in law and a bubbly individual…
A pleasing personality with a will to succeed, Sakhi had always aimed to strive for perfection. She had a small circle of friends and mingled well with office colleagues and neigbours as well. Sakhi spent most of the day juggling the chores of home and office schedules. She enjoyed most chores of the day and had little time to reflect on it. Her favourite time was the time spent with her daughter and some light moments spent with the family and office colleagues.
Days flew by and she never had time to stand and stare.
Today is Sakhi’s 34th birthday. She leaves for office after packing off the husband and her daughter to school. Her daughter is almost 5 years now and is already a very pretty girl. Today they have planned to go out for dinner, just Sakhi and her husband.
Sakhi is walking to office today. She has ample time while walking. Generally, she utilizes this time to make the customary calls to friends and relatives .But today she is in no mood talk about the same routine. She switches her hand phone off and takes a deep breath. She feels the slight breeze across her cheeks.. This walk, the wonderful air with tree shades, the rhythmic tiles on the footpath, the company of fellow walkers, without a conversation, the feeling of nothingness with a purpose though, is amazing.
She resolves to herself that every day she should walk to work. A time spent with her ‘self’, serene, pure and reflective!
Thereon, this walk to office becomes the fun part of the day. Sakhi wakes up in the morning, lovingly completes her chores and rushes to her promenade to office. She begins the walk with a few shlokas that she had always recited as a young girl. She prays - thanking God for the brightness of the day.
Then she talks to her new friend. She calls her Pari; an angel … There are no words in this communication. Its like telepathy….talking to your soul.Sakhi wonders how she had never known that a soul existed within her. A being so pure, lively and positive. She opens up to her friend like she has never opened up to anyone before. Pari also offers her abundant support but more so a different insight…An insight that Sakhi had never known. Sakhi feels loved by her new friend.
Pari cajoles Sakhi into seeing life through her eyes. Sakhi  and Pari discuss their fears about an unseen tomorrow… but Pari is always fearless and timeless. She is not apprehensive about the unforeseen. She coaxes Sakhi to try new things...Sakhi enrolls in a dancing class much to the surprise of her husband and shock of her family. But even in the dance class, Sakhi finds Pari at her side, giggling away at her obnoxious moves!

When Sakhi is depressed, Pari reminds her of happier times, of the wonderful childhood that they had shared, the curious trail of butterflies that they had ventured in, the melodious rhythms that marked their teens, the first promotion at work, the impatient but experimental courtship days, that honeymoon period in marriage, the joy of being a mother…All of it comes back to Sakhi, like a replay of life. In the midst of all this, she realizes that Pari has helped to rediscover her ‘self’…in a beautiful way….
Sakhi loves her new friend Pari, something that would remain with her, no matter what circumstances would show up in future. It’s a friendship, a sisterhood found forever; a relationship that is much stable than any other…A bond with her soul!
Have you met your Pari yet?




Monday, 19 September 2011

Count your blessings

When I look at my son, growing up day by day while we are busy at work, I can’t help but count his blessings..in the form of his lovely grandparents. He has two sets of loving grandparents who dote on him…when I see their bonding with each other; I often recall what I had heard many years back…
The cream on the milk is dearer than the milk itself….
which means, grandchildren are loved more than our children itself…
My mind rolls back to my childhood, a favorite place to be!
I had lesser blessings than my son does, but nevertheless, I was blessed with a set of maternal grandparents who in spite of their limitations did their best to make my childhood a wonderful time to be in.
My grandmother came from a tiny village in Karnataka called ‘Kundapur’. She was the eldest of the three siblings but did have two elder step sisters. Her mother (my great grandmother) who was a Matric pass of her times took her marriage to a widower, as a blow to her ego and lost her mental sanity. So these kids were left to the mercy of their grandmother and elder step sisters for their upbringing. My grandmother ‘ Radha’ was married off at an early age to my grandfather, more as an off loading of duty than as an association of matches. My grandfather, the youngest of 5 sibblings, though eleven years elder to her, was a loving and dutiful husband. Thus a small town girl entered the big city of Mumbai after her wedding and found life was a totally different ball game here. People did not have the time to stand and stare…she encountered many difficulties of the city life but it only made her will to survive stronger than ever.

She was 45 years old when I was born. She used to finish her daily chores and walk a mile to see me every single day. As I grew older, I began to visit their home every day while my parents were in office. At that time I must be about three years .
While my grandfather taught me to play chess, badminton and read out stories from witty deeds of Raja Vikramaditya and Birbal, my grandmother loved to stick to the Indian mythological epics. I still remember the strong impressions made by her stories of Lord Krishna and his ras leela and the sagar manthan whereby Lord Shiva volunteered to drink the poison before the life giving Amrut could be churned out…
She did not stop at that though; she ensured that at least once in two months, she took me along for a mythological movie in town. These were mostly south indian movies, I guess dubed in hindi or Marathi…the names were hilarious but I still remember the likes of Satyvaan Savitri, Anusuya etc. I used to be enthralled to see the picturisation of heaven and hoped I would visit it soon too…The theatre visits were always accompanied by candy ice creams and a sumptuous vegetarian lunch at any udipi restaurant…
As I grew older, I began to realize that my grandmother was always a heavy diabetic and used to be on an insulin dose every single day. With that condition, came the hospitalization and need for a strict diet.
But my grandmother, who was a die -hard foodie, never really cared for a healthy diet! Not only did she buy great amount of snacks and sweets, she ensured that every person coming to her door step did not go away without a stomach full of snacks and savouries. And mind you, this did not apply for only guests and relatives, it applied to any salesman, any road side urchin, any beggar who stepped in her door!
This is not an exaggeration, and due to this practice of hers, people in the neighborhood almost labeled her as a crazy woman. On returning from school, I used to see some roadside workwomen sitting in my door step and I often felt nauseous with their sitnk, while my granny fondly served them tea and biscuits or whatever else was available at home. I hated her hospitality at those times, but she really taught me the meaning of the saying “Athithi Devo bhav” (The guest is the God).
She ensured that every married woman was offered kumkum before she left the house. She often told me she wanted to die a ‘saubhagyavati’  ie die while her husband was still alive. Every Friday she purchased loads of fragrant garlands and distributed to all women who encountered her that day.
Though my grandmother passed away more than a decade ago, I still feel her warmth close to me.The day she died, my grandfather sat quietly as the rituals were being done. I held his hand in mine and couldn’t help shedding tears of loss for a childhood so naïve, so pure that would never come back.
Love every human being irrespective of their caste or creed and treat life as if it’s a celebration is what I learnt from her life.. Even today, when I see the likes of batliwali, amaaswali baiee, I feel my grandmother would have loved to have them over for a cup of steaming hot coffee and a heart to heart chat!
I was really blessed to have a unique grandmother like her!

Friday, 16 September 2011

आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया ...



झ्हुकुझ्हुकू झ्हुकूझ्हुकू अगीनगाडी
घेऊन चालली माझ्या ध्यानी
छोट्याश्या  सुंदर गावी
पळती वर्षे पाहूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

गावात या दडली आजी
विळीवर बसून चिरते  भाजी
लाडात पुन्हा वाद्धुया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

आंब्याच्या रसाची
फणसाच्या वासाची
काजूच्या सोलण्याची
आजोळच्या   घराची
सहल आपण काढूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

बागेतल्या फुलांचा
पहिल्या पहिल्या पौसाचा
गंध पुन्हा घेऊया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

शाळेत जायची गडबड ती
गृहपाठाची  परवड ती
बाईंची खोड काढूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

मैत्रिणीच्या हाकेला
पळत जाताना खेळायला
गप्पांची गट्टी जमवुया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

दिवा लागता देवापाशी
शुभम करोति येता ओठी
परवचे पुन्हा आठवूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

परीक्षेच्या काळात मग
पुस्तकात बुडालेले आपले जग
लांबूनच पाहूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

दिवाळीची फुलबाजी
आईच्या हातची  ती चकली
लाडू मजेत खाऊया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

सुट्टीच्या नाताल्यात
काका मामा  येई घरात
रात्री सगळ्या जागवूया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

वाढत्या त्या वयाची
तोकडे होणार्या कपड्यांची
दखल एकदा घेऊया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया

बाबांच्या धाकाच्या
आईच्या मायेच्या
घरट्यात गाढ झ्होपुया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया
आठवणींच्या गावी जाउया....