Cafe ou The?

It's not like I've never had tea or I'm allergic to it. It's just that I'm not a tea person. Probably because it's just not my cup of, well, u know, or because I don't need it. As simple as that!! But coffee - the aroma, the satisfaction, the froth, the bitterness and the enigma to it captivates me. My preference could very well be because of the fact that coffee has many harmful effects, and tea comparatively scores way better.

So I had a rocking time in Bangalore. Tea costs more than coffee there. A buck more at CKD (Chai ki dukan) - I'll never forget that place. Coffee there used to be 4 bucks - would be bitter to the core - utterly satisfying and dehydrating. Very potent. Very toxic. Very essential. And, yes, a lot did happen over it.

But now that I'm in the capital, tea is omnipresent. Coffee is an expensive option as it is only available at Barista or Coffee Day. And considering my current financial position, I'm a hermit for the next one month. Atleast I hope I am. So now that the campus norms have made sure that we're virtually stranded in campus without any resources to have a hot cuppa and are dictated by the whims of the Mess, I have only one resort to keep awake in class - Have tea.

It's not that bad after all. It's got ginger in it. Reminds me of my office. Plus, it's a God send for my sore throat - everyone on campus doesn't know what I sound like really. Everyone thinks I have a husky voice and they like it - like Phoebe's sexy phlegm. So i'm off icecream for a week. What will power!!

So what say?? Chai ho jaye???

Expensive Feelings

Ma always put us in the habit of making cards for each other. And we've always enjoyed it - writing poems for each other, drawing stuff out, getting something done. The smile one gets is worth all the effort. But there was one time when I had to go and buy a greeting card for someone. Either I didn't have the time/resources to make one, or it was meant to be a li'l not-too-personal. Whatever it was, I went to Archies', I guess for the first time. I was really small, and naive. That time I used to get 150 bucks per month for pocket money, and I used to use it well. So I had my wallet well loaded and I entered the shop full of tinkling, sparkling, enticing stuff.

I picked out the card alright and went to the counter. The old Bohra uncle at the counter packed it up and mumbled "Eighteen". I wasn't sure what I heard so I asked him, "Eighty? or Eighteen?" And he exclaimed "Eighty!! My goodness no!! Eighteen.." And then I knew that greeting cards aren't supposed to cost this much. This was I guess a decade ago.

The other day I walked into Archies' again to pick up a card for Pa for Father's Day. A decent card - Eighty bucks :) Wonder what the old uncle would've said now.

Kohima, Khonoma, 12th May, 2008

We left for Kohima early as usual. The bus ride was uneventful except for the usual clothes being torn by the seats' sharp edges and people drooling on one another. We woke up when the bus halted in front of the War Memorial. I peered out to see the city of Kohima. Sleepy and reluctant, I climbed out of the bus. As I entered the site, the first thing I noticed was the very English feel to the place. The pretty roses and daisies lined up placidly in the shade of the neat rows of the trees seemed to smile at us and our ignorance. The plaques stood at corners commanding our attention. A stone path wound up to the top of the hill like a stairway to heaven.

I walked along noting the various emblems of the regiments, reading the epitaphs. Some written by parents, some by wives, others by friends. Most of the soldiers were in their early twenties. Charlie, 21, who was 'a wonderful boy, loved by all'. Leslie, 24, 'who lived to the fullest and fought his best'. A 25 year old who 'couldn't live to see his baby'.

And then it sunk. These people were my age when they died. Twenty odd years to live. That's it. Life is not made of plans and plans don't make life. Plans never work. All goes down the drain when somethings are just cut out for you. So if you plan and delay gratification, think again. You might just not be around to see those plans work out. If you're cribbing about not having the life you want, work today, better still, now, towards getting it. You've got just one chance. Use it. Forgive and forget. Live your life. Not your age.

I was so engrossed with it all that I didn't realise when Sir called out to everyone to board the bus. I didn't see the rest of them. Later they told me that I missed the regiments where there were Hindu and Muslim soldiers. I'm glad I missed it coz they were even younger.

We went to the museum where there were many interesting things to see. The colours, the jewels, the tools. Fascinating how one small state can have 9 different tribes and all 9 of them, although so close to one another, so varied and different from the others. Many worlds in one.

Next we went to Khonoma. A clean village. Utopian in the true sense. Would love to go and live there, probably take up a teaching job. Everything was so systematic - dust bins at every corner, solar panels, and at the same time tradition upheld - dorms for boys til they reach puberty, traditional pillars as a sign of prosperity if one gives something to the village. We even met a basket weaver who had won the President's award. People found a huge rifle that's carried by 3 people. Many posed with it. I played the dutiful photographer.

We returned to Kohima to the SP's residence where he hosted a royal lunch for us. The setting was perfect. I felt like a delegate at some fancy symposium. After lunch, we hung out at the gardens with a misty view of the city. Empty minds - you-know-who's workshops. The Crusades began - Aditi, Swedyl, the other girls and me on one side while Anish, Dhiren, Mihir (the traitor), Glen, Mini and Lyandra on the other. Priyanjali was the self proclaimed Commander-in-Chief who got whacked too. Akul was the paparazzi who couldn't escape the thrashing either. He even sacrificed his chappals to the noble cause. Sanjay palyed the grandfather till he was threatened. We're still trying to figure out what the cause was though. Can't believe I got dragged into those murky waters.

In the evening we met the Founder of The Naga Mothers Association, Padmashree Angami. It was nice to listen to her, except that I dozed off for a few minutes. The SP had been Sir's student and I saw a picture of him at Indore where he was a student at the Central Instt of Warfare and Tactics. It's a small world.

This was officially the last session and the end seemed closer. Much closer.

Way to Dimapur, 11th May, 2008

We set off from Nameri for Dimapur, Nagaland . We went through Kaziranga, where we spotted a few rhinos. We stopped at a place for chai, which was close to a cattle market. Areen made us rush over there saying that there was a bull fight happening. Anish bought that and we went there only to see two buffaloes in the water slapping each other with their tails. That was all the action there was. Swedyl and Mihir actually went in there and even bargained for a cow being sold for 15 grand.

We moved on, singing more songs, dedicating many more 'Dhinchaks' to a place called Nath where we had Thali for lunch. By afternoon we reached Dimapur.

In the evening, we walked to the ruins of the Kachari tribe. We saw humongous pawns that the kings used to play a chess-like game with. There were pitiable remains of what would have been a grand fort. All in all there was nothing much to see. It pained me because this is the case everywhere you go in the country. We can only boast of the 'rich and varied' culture/heritage, but all evidence is slowly withering away and soon, we won't have anything to show our grandchildren.

After dinner, we played some more UNO and DRAW 4. Swedyl, Mihir and I went to the jinxed room, where bottles kept falling, glass kept breaking, liquid kept spilling and bags kept stinking. It's a long story and some people I know what I'm talking about. Others don't need to know.

When I went to bed, I realised that the trip was ending.

Nameri, 10th May 2008

We woke up at 5 in the morning to the sound of rain. There was no sight of the sun and for a moment it felt like there wouldn’t be forest walk after all. To some it was a relief because, let’s face it, the last few days had been really tiring. We reported at the restaurant in our rain wear and there was the birthday boy, beaming. Sir had specially ordered a cake all the way from Tezpur. A lot of singing and picture clicking later we had breakfast. Amazingly, the rain stopped. We set off for the forest walk. This one wasn’t that arduous. Leeches were omnipresent just like Pakke. But the forest was pleasant and less hostile in many ways.

In the afternoon we were supposed to go rafting in the river. We reached the spot and chose our life jackets. Helped each other put them on and then posed in our yellows and reds for the group photo. We set off in the rafts, four in one. At first it was nothing much to talk about, although the feeling of the water flowing under our feet was lovely. Then when we went over shallow waters, the water splashed over us from everywhere, and that is where the fun began.

Listening to Dylan and soaking in the forest on both sides was sheer bliss. After much cajoling, the rowers finally let us try our hands at the oars for a while. We went haywire but liked it nonetheless. Anish, Dhiren and Deepti got into the water and held on to their rafts. Only Deepti can come up with all this. Hats off to the Talpade siblings.

In the evening we visited the neighbouring village where most of the population belonged to the Mising tribe. We met the chief of the tribe. The jolly good fellow was all smiles. He showed us around his house but did not let us in, saying that his wife wasn't at home. He had a huge farm, cattle and a mini silo. Looking at the rest of the village, this was prosperity. A few goofballs among us couldn't resist cracking 'missing' jokes.

We moved on to another house, where a lady was weaving. We even saw a charkha. We walked further through picture perfect farms. The Assam plains are fertile enough to play host to papaya, coconut, dates and many more varied trees. It was nice to see all of them fruit laden.

We went back to the camp. We had a session on Climate neutrality that set many of us thinking. After dinner, we played DRAW 4 and laughed hysterically. Aditi, Swedyl and I performed that dance for Dhiren, and it was an instant hit. We even played Dumb Charades where the 'Gaanja' episode happened. While playing something struck me - It's amazing how people have so many hidden layers to them, when you get a glimpse of one of them, you see that person in a different light altogether.

To Nameri, 9th May, 2008

We set off for another monastery in the morning. It was bigger than the one we saw before. Two monks, barely 10, looked at us in disdain. They were scandalised when too many people tried to click them. I wondered what their life would be like everyday and what were they thinking when they were seeing so much of colour all of a sudden, with so much city noise dashed in. A sleepy dog made the most of it and got his flea-ful fur cuddled thoroughly. Sir told us more about the place and Buddhism. I saw David pass a tenner to one of the kids. I don’t’ know why but I felt guilty for intruding in the little monk’s home that day. He certainly didn’t want any of us there.

An episode I will never forget was Priyanka’s display of strong abdominal muscles. She made Mini stand on her while she was lying down on the grass. Kudos!! We all cheered. Then our ever-so-enthusiastic CROC stepped up and well, she does have very strong abs. Only we also heard a grunt from the wrong end in the process.

We went through a village called Rupa where some bought prayer flags to take home. I just bought very essential lozenges. We rode back to Balukpong and Hotel Solu welcomed us once again. A good lunch and an intense session n Russel peters by Anish was enough to get rid of my sleep.

We started off for Nameri. After we crossed the Assam border, a few lucky people like me got to ride on top of the bus. It was fantastic – the weather was warm but windy. We sang songs and waved at the villagers. We ducked when there were low lying wires and branches ready to cut us in half. I don’t know when I’ll get to do something like that ever again.

We reached Nameri Tiger Reserve around afternoon. A quiet place with 5-star tents and tree houses, great infrastructure and excellent staff. We oohed and ahead at the rooms we got and set off again on for for a small river walk. The river Bohrelli is not as calm and clean as Kameng.

We came back and washed up. In the evening, we had a session with one of Sir’s ex-students, Chombe. He had a lot to tell us about the real scenario in Arunachal Pradesh. It was quite an eye-opener. What ran through my head then was that setting up a school here wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
The next day was Dhiren’s birthday. So the guys came to our tent and blew up a few balloons. Anish was our supervisor and we were very handicapped elves. Sitting in the lawn gazing at the stars in the constant insect creek almost put me in a daze. We slept off after wishing Dhiren. Since Aditi was fast asleep, we postponed our performance by a day.

Eagles’ Nest, 8th May, 2008

We were ready at day break to board three jeeps. We were going to stuff ourselves in the jeeps and some would even get to hop on top of them. Aditi, Lincy, Swedyl and I wasted no time and saved seats for ourselves on top of one of them. Nadia joined us and so did Vicky. The ride was fun. Too bad I couldn’t get any pictures on the way because it was quite bumpy. Three high prayer flags that went up to the clouds urged me to get my camera out but personal safety and Aditi said otherwise. We grabbed on and sang songs all the way. My sore throat was irritating me. Couldn’t sing. Couldn’t talk. In the meantime Aditi and Swedyl choreographed to ‘Yeh Ishq Hai’ and within minutes a performance was ready. As we climbed higher, it got nippier and hazier. We were moving in clouds. Thank god I had my jacket on which by the way I didn’t take of all day. The ride ended when Vicky spotted a flat in our jeep. So we got off and tried to warm ourselves. There were a few bamboo sticks lying around in the clearing and someone came up with the brilliant idea of trying out the bamboo dance. As it turns out, I suck at it. Guess Anant’s right about the problem in my wiring – mind to limb coordination.
After a while we saw people of another jeep walking up to us. Theirs ran out of gas. So the third goes done to the town to get the tyre fixed and get more fuel. So much for conveyance. So we all start off on foot. But I am really glad we got to walk that day because it was breathtaking. Moss laden trees, dinning birdsong, bugs and beetles splashed with colour and silence. A few of us ended up walking an extra mile too. After some rest and a few things from Sir about various birds like Yuheena, Drongo, etc, we walked back. One jeep was now supposed to come back with our lunch. We caught sight of it at 4 and was that a relief! Lunch in makeshift tents in the rain on the mountain, who could’ve thought of that! We finally returned to the hotel, dead tired.

Balukpong – Tenga, 7th May 2008

Had breakfast at Hotel Solu and loaded the bus to set off for Tenga. On the way we were to go to the Orchid Reserve at Sessa. But the bus and the bus driver were very daft and we were very slow. The climb was steep and it had to happen once. The clutch plate was conked and the bus broken down. So we set off on foot up the road. It was a steady climb and a little tiring for a few. We must have walked around 3 kms to Sessa. This was a beautiful valley surrounded by cloud covered mountains. Some had tea while others had photo sessions. There were a few like Swedyl and Aditi who had both. The bus arrived all repaired at Sessa and we got on it again.

The plan for the Orchid Reserve was postponed for the time being. On the way there was an actual waterfall to Anish’s delight. And yes, he was the first one to get in. People followed suit promptly and within minutes we had a bus full of dripping, shivering, screaming people. There were some people who opted out but most were game. I think the pictures taken here are the best.

We continued for Tenga and stopped for lunch at a place where they had graciously let us into their kitchen, that had a table full of steaming cabbage soup and fresh steamed momos. The room was hot and we all huddled up. I stood right in front of the fire and a few others lined up too. The heating session worked wonders. After the manna-like lunch we wound our way through more cloud laden mountains to Tenga. We saw the military establishments, all prim and proper. Cadets waved at us while our noisy bus zoomed past them.

We reached the hotel, sorted things out and again set off for a monastery nearby. It was a small Gongpa, but calming nonetheless. The prayer flags fluttered in the twilight as if they were cajoling the wind to go slower. The bowls of water offered every day to the Gods, the seven elements symbolised at various points, the significance of the Lotus made sense to me for the first time. Seeing all those things has made me curious about Buddhism and am going to read up as much as I can get hold of about it. We spent quality time in and around the place and walked back to the hotel. Had dinner, played UNO and slept off – all worried about how one is to get up the next day.

Balukpong , 6th May 2008

We got up early and reported on time. Well, that was the case everyday but since this was the first day, I felt like a cadet getting up to the bugle. We trekked down a few minutesalong the highway and into the woods, where there was a pleasant din of birdsong. On the way Sir showed us the all-familiar Teak, Brack and Balsam. Sir caught hold of an earthworm which reminded me of my science classes in school. Was itching to sprinkle some salt on it. Didn’t though, everybody would’ve disowned me. An Ample amount of lovely butterflies were treating the eyes as well. Saw a courtship of brilliantly purple coloured butterflies. It was as if they were tied together with an invisible string. They were together, and in sync, yet apart from each other, as if they’re respecting each others’ space. On the way back we ran into a local who was carrying an ‘ara’ also known as a ‘dao’ in other parts. It had a langoor skin holder. Swedyl almost escaped being beheaded when we asked the guy to pose with her with it. I guess he could’ve easily got carried away. On the way Aditi, Swedyl and I saluted every army truck that went past us. They were delighted to see three girls saluting so seriously. We did a good job I guess, except for the fact that one officer did not salute back but waved at us like a girl.

After a hearty breakfast, we crossed the serene waters of Kameng river to reach Pakke Tiger Reserve. As we crossed the river in a rickety boat, some of us were all nerves considering that the boat could capsize any minute. Glen in our boat was as taut as a reed whenever we tilted. On the other side of the river, we saw an elephant. It belonged to the forest officials. The enthusiastic ones among us went up to it, clicked pictures and took a second hand interview of the elephant through the mahoot. He was going to be our escort for the day. His name was very aptly, Major Gulab Singh. I couldn’t help but notice the irony in that name. I prefer calling him Gulabo. The officials kept warning the kids to keep a safe distance from Gulabo, because visibly, he was in heat and very restless.

When the entire group was on the other side in one piece, we began our forest walk. It was a pleasant, cloudy day. The forest was very dense, moist and intimidating. The trail looked well used, but treacherous nevertheless. Sir gave us strict instructions not to keep any gaps in file and to be absolutely silent. And surprisingly so, we did obey well. I just wish that some of us would’ve avoided using sprays as well. It may have increased our chances of spotting something. The walk was pleasant and not very tiring for most people. Most of us were concentrating on the leeches too. So I guess it deviated their minds from the exhaustion. Although it was not very hot, the tropical setting made us sweat like pigs and dehydrated us almost like the leeches with salt on the. People who were right behind Gulabo were subjected to intermittent wind passing and other tantrums on the way. Avid birdwatchers spotted a pair of hornbills and an eagle. When the hornbills flapped their humungous wings, I could actually hear the whooshing. Wonder what it would be like with an albatross then. May be the hornbills knew how important they were as we were watching them in awe. That’s why they gave us such a majestic show. We even heard wild elephants from a safe but disappointing distance. Sir showed us a dung beetle. Had only seen those on Discovery channel. Pretty orchids dangling on here and there reminded me of how the contrasts of the forest are so blatant. Calm one moment, wild the next. Although we didn’t spot any animal, Gulabo himself hogged the limelight.

After the forest walk, we went back to the other side and to the waterfront for lunch. The Kameng flowed harmlessly while we enjoyed a well deserved treat. After lunch, we ended up disrupting the dinning calm by playing a game of Dog-n-the-Bone. But I have no regrets because my team won. Ok, arguably won. When we were about to leave, Sir asked us to spend some time in quiet. It really helped me sort things out in many ways on different levels.

There was a heated discussion and serious ear pulling over a so-called waterfall which was a drain according to Sir. Anish stood by his argument that it was much more than that. Areen added fuel to the fire.

We came back to the hotel. Some of us dropped dead while others wanted to explore more. We went to the market, had momos, bought a few things – chocolates, all-important shampoos, etc. Some even bought canvas shoes and camoflage pants and flaunted them around. After dinner, a few of us took a night walk down the river bed. As we walked, we saw fireflies lined up along the way, lighting up as we passed them, as if showing us the way. We lay on the cool, moist sand and gazed at the clear starry sky. I could hear nothing but the water flowing. I could’ve stayed there all night.

We came back and crashed. All set for Day 2.

The train journey : 3, 4, 5 May, 2008

As we entered Assam, everything turned green. The arid and hot winds turned into a cool breeze. The yellow disappeared and picture perfect landscapes adorned the window. Ducks lined up in ponds, sleek boats in rivulets in siesta, young lads swimming in wild waters, men gong to work riding bicycles in single file – these were common sights. The train stopped somewhere for a long time. And I looked out the window to see a lone woodcutter, his skin glistening in the naked sun, atop a tree, chopping away, as if he doesn’t care two hoots about the heat or the deafening stillness of the forest. The train left only after he was done.

Ever time the train was stopping at stations for a long time. We were getting down and playing silly games on the platform. Quite a sight for everyone around.

There was something that pricked though. At every railway crossing I saw army convoys, tanks and trucks lined up, not letting you forget. So between sips of the tangy, mellow and red ‘lalcha’ I saw Assam welcoming me into the unknown, enigmatic North east.

Ignorant Intolerance

Did they really write in blood?? I doubt very much. And even if they did, why? Does a petition undergo value addition if it's written in red? But what disturbs me most is that they did many more things than just 'silent protests'.

Ashutosh Gowarikar spent three years of his life making a film. Big deal. He's a film maker. That's his day job. But more than three years, he has also put in his money and probably his heart into it. He read all the history he could lay his hands on. He researched extensively. He even approached the royal family of Amer before he started off with the project just to make sure that he doesn't go wrong anywhere, that he doesn't hurt anyone's sentiments. And only when the film is just about to be released the Karni clan wakes up out of hibernation and ensures that this man suffers heavy losses. First of all, where were they all this time, when the promos were being aired for months? Secondly, which part of the Rajput's "aan-baan-shaan" is being slandered?

Okay so the whole fracas is about Jodha being Akbar's daughter-in-law and not wife. So let's delve into the matter some more. History states that Akbar was married to Amer's princess. And she was known by many names. Historians wrote only about the men in those times because the queens were always in closed quarters. Also, Jehangir, Akbar's son was married to Joda (mind the spelling). But this lady wasn't from Amer. So there is no room for a mix up in the first place.

There is history on one hand and on the other is the world of folklore, myth and legend, which is always more colourful, more fascinating. And is one's making a film, why not make one over folklore. If only history is to be accounted, go ahead, make a documentary. Anarkali wasn't history. But the story was gut wrenching. So the film was a hit. Jodha bai is a widely accepted name for Akbar's queen from Amer. So why can't people live with it and give the film a fair chance at the box office?

I watched the film a few days ago. I wasn't going to. But when they stopped screening it under pressure, that was when I made it a point to go to the theatre and contribute my small bit. I did not like the movie. But I liked some aspects of it.

I want everyone to go and watch this film so that it actually is a hit. That will atleast shut a lot of people up. Moreover, next time some so-called social-activists or cultural groups plan to raise their voices just so they appear on national television, they'll think twice.

I saw how the head of the Karni clan got rogered on NDTV Big Fight. Everyone extended their support to Gowarikar. But to what avail? The film has already suffered.

I also read an article recently by Shashi Tharoor that talks about one of the most externally tolerant civilizations of the world turning internally intolerant. Well, that's a scary thought. But it's happening. My next blog maybe :)

The Beautiful Mind

How difficult is it to learn after all? You read something and you know it. Wish it were that simple. There are so many factors that go into it. First of all there is the desire to learn. One has to have the hunger for knowledge. If one is a reluctant learner, no matter how much one reads the facts just won't register. It would be more like a fleeting study of the text that one is going through while thinking about other things. Only when one really wants to know, wants to learn, does one remember every detail of what one has read. So we come to the point that even memory is selective. We subconsciously make sure that we remember what interests us and gradually erase what is dull and boring. But shouldn't it be the other way round? Remembering what colour dress Victoria Beckham wore to the last P3 party is far easier than knowing the current CRR value. So the mind should be programmed as to give higher priority to what we are reading because we are compelled to over what we are reading because we want to. But no, the wiring has to be that way. Just like your nose will itch just when your hands are full of dough.

So what does one do to know what one hates to read about? First step : start liking it. Yeah right!! But no, there's no other way. You have to start taking interest in it. Gradually things fall into place. I'm working on it. There's another aspect to this - the mode of learning. Eg : I learn best when someone in front of me is telling me about it. If i read about it it doesn't register that well. Also, writing what I've read helps. But reading what I've written a while later ensures that I actually recall every detail about it. There are some people I know who don't learn anything in class but understand the concepts really well if they read a good book. I have to develop this trait sooner or later, else I'll be in hot water.

Hot water reminds me - why do I remember what happened in this PGW but can't remember the name of the newly elected President of Myanmar? Or for that matter the name of the guy who was behind the coup d'etat. Again, selective memory. So do I turn these names into PGW characters and Douglas Adams ETs? Hope I do, and soon.

The brain's a funny thing. And its complexities will take really long to decipher. Watching Taare Zameen Par told me about how a beautiful mind can be wronged in such a barbaric manner. The kid was a true genius and yet, would have been lost in translation had it not been for early counseling.

These days schools have counselers. Even parents are more open to varied options for their children and are willing to consider parallel lines. They are also more receptive to counseling and psychological treatments. But I remember how insensitive parents and teachers alike were to the not so brilliant students in class when I was in Primary School. I just hope kids can live their lives now, especially after this film.

The Last Mughal

I read The Last Mughal by William Dalrymple a few weeks ago. I must admit that I've never enjoyed history more. It's a colourful account of the way Delhi saw the 1857 uprising. I have deliberately avoided using any of the terms "The First War of Independence" and "The Sepoy Mutiny" because both are equally controversial after having read the book.

I had read about the events of 1857 in CBSE history books, CSR articles, and editorials of Independence Day and I had seen a couple of movies that glorified the Indian heroism and the ideology of 'what could have been'. But I guess I never knew the entire story. True, Indians were subject to barbaric treatment. The British were trying to convert Hindus and Muslims alike to Christianity. The sepoys were being suppressed inhumanly. The resistance was inevitable. But as the soldiers rode to Delhi, they killed the British men, women and children blindly. The British residents that survived have written accounts of most horrific murders of innocent lives. And this makes me cringe to think of the fact that reminds me of Godhra and Ayodhya.

Another aspect I didn't know of was the adulteration of the uprising with "jihad". Yes, not missing the opportunity, Islami extremists even then differentiated the Muslims of Delhi and called upon them to fight for jihad against the British. This move alienated the Hindus of the city and disrupted the unity.

All these events put Bahadur Shah Zafar in a fix. I would rightly call him the reluctant Emperor - the poet in pearls.

Ofcourse the book also mentions interesting anecdotes of our very own Ghalib and the lesser known Zauq who was supposedly saner of the two, and hence looked down upon by the former.

The best part about reading this book was that I felt the glory of the city of Delhi that was and I lived the misery of the ruins that still lie gaping with shell marks all over them. I just hope that they are all restored to remind us of the past we can never wash our hands clean off, and they don't demolish any more monuments.

CrossRoads

Sometimes I feel very insecure and scared when I think about what I want to do with my life. There are a few times when I feel like going to Auroville for good. One such instance was a few minutes ago when I was reading this article about economic development affecting nature. Well, that was mostly the head and tail of it. That is when I remembered that I even have a blog and write about it. But this is a step I am scared to take. There could be a lot of repercussions to it. Also, I am not completely sure whether this is exactly what I want or not. Guess I'll never find out unless I actually experience it myself. That is definitely not going to be a bed of roses. But maybe it is, for me.

But what if I get sick of it after a few weeks? What do I do then? Not that I can't come back. I could always come back. But it would just be another thing I failed at. So is this what it is? Am I wanting to go there to run away from my possible failures in life? Maybe so. Only to avoid the many hassles I would be running after, I choose a place where there are no hassles I could possibly after. But again, there's my trait of finding something or the other that I want and don't have. And blow it up.

So when I'm going crazy with all these questions in my head, I just switch everything off and say - Hey.. I don't have to ask myself that question. So just forget it. Rite.

Thank you for Smoking

My bro had it in his laptop. So just watched it. It was... well.. different to say the least. What hit me first was that it was about exactly what the title said. smoking. And yes, much more than that too. I know someone who's trying to quit. God knows how well he's doing. Is he even keeping at it. Strong will power is not exactly his forte. But if he sets his mind to it, he might just get there. For years he was in denial and kept saying that it was not a habit and that he could quit anytime he wanted to. So at least he has moved a step further. Oh so the movie.. rite.. It had layers to it. Ethics, morals, rights and wrong, and most of all integrity.

I wouldn't exactly remember this film when asked about my favourites. But I'm glad I watched it nonetheless. The movie makes you hate the protagonist's guts and at the same time you want him to emerge as the winner. Thank you for smoking. Crisp. Neat. Intriguing.

I have never smoked. Never think I will. Of course I couldn't have avoided passive smoking. But that has been minimal. And personally I find a cigarette in anyone's hand quite a turnoff. So just put that away and maybe then we could talk. ;)