Metro Talk

Talk about the tiny powerful point in the vast landscape of country map.

Temple(s) of we mentally retarded people

by

I have been to ISKCON many a times but to a NGO it was my first visit in Bangalore.

On the 80 feet road, there on a wall written – Asha Niketan. It is a NGO – where SDIPA students decided to make friendship with.

Asha Niketan – a simple building with brown brick walls. With the packet of cloths and other things given by M.S., I entered the gate. And the wavy stairs reached the verandah. There on the bench sitting were some persons.One can see their bent heads, hanging hands, drooling tongue and the dull looking persons – we call them mentally retarded – who don’t have a home like ours !

After entering there, suddenly a feeling came to me. And the feeling I did compared my entry to another famous place – the ISKCON. But both feelings did had a contrasting experience !

When I go to ISKCON – there I try to be good devotee for the minutes/hours – I spend there. There I don’t find the priest’s eyes welcoming me. They seem to be immersed in a another world, in the greatness of the great temple. Of course the security guards, do welcome me as I am a patron member there ! I do get special entry with a life time pass. But even at the temple, truly I don’t feel on the ground in that way I did felt there.

At Asha Niketan, within the dull looking boundaries – everyone is welcome equally. I was said to wait for sometime – as some authority was to come to collect the things. Soon a tall white lady came and took me to a small room. An inadequately lighted house with a PC on the table. In the room, there were other donated things kept in a big bag. She was so busy that she did not opened the things donated earlier. Down the corner, in another room, I can see elderly people sitting down for meals.

And my eyes were feasting on the walls. The walls had paintings – must be made by the members of Asha Niketan. The painted human figures were not as beautiful as I did saw the Bal-Gopal’s paintings on the walls of temple. But these dull colors in painting were speaking aloud. They do make candles, cards and do sell them. ISKCON too make agarbattis, sweets and so many others things and help many needy persons.

Both are temples to serve the human kind. And the fact is, at the NGO’s, we don’t expect the blessing deity idol there, so most of us don’t go inside the NGO’s making a big queue. And of course in temple, most of us do like to go in queue or become life patron ( for shortcut entry or special treatment or big donation) for the essence of some assurance of heaven out of hell life or for fulfillment of some wish. Anyway in front of deity, we do chant and dance too.

Here they learn dance for therapy, dance for happiness and dance for friendship. SDIPA instructors do train the mentally retarded people free of cost, and make them dance on stage. Imagine the different level of grasping power of mentally retarded people. On the stage, all persons trying to follow the steps of instructor lately and one person just moving the hanging hands sidewards throughout the dance.

The dance of life.. in the different coloured beams focussed on us on the world’s stage. Yeah we all the dancers , tied with HIS strings.

We dance, act, sing on the stage of world. And there are some persons, who play the relationship acts beyond blood relations and they run the NGOs.

” The deepest need of each one is to love and to be loved.” – the leaflet of Asha Niketan says.

Dhansirhi – the stories by Gargi Bhattacharya

by

One evening while returning from office, at the 7-Days shopping center, as per my habit, I checked for new magazines. On the upper racks,there were the recent issues of India Today, Readers digest, and few mores magazines and the lower racks were still holding the old editions.

At the bottom most rack were diaries, notebooks and few more books. Within them, I saw a Bengali book in brown cover. I picked it up and flipped through the pages and kept it back. It was a 26 short stories book, priced at Rs. 75/-. At the moment, there was not enough reasons for me to buy a story book.

Days passed on. I used to get a glimpse of bookshelf as usual. The number of that particular book’s copies seemed decreasing. Inquisitive now I was ! And I again picked up the same book to check – who wrote it?, as the writer’s name was not well known. I thought to buy it, as the writer was some Mrs. Gargi Bhattacharya from Bangalore.Dhansirhi

As the bookshelf is located at the main entrance, the book was getting dust over it along with diaries kept there. But the bright brown color of the cover and the painting was talking something to my instinct. I picked it up and wiped the dust out and read the preface.

I bought it that evening, and after dinner I started reading the stories. Having done my education in Hindi and English, the distance from Bengali literature makes my Bengali reading speed slow. The story writing technique caught my attention. It was story about a small bird and a famous female screen personality. The story ended with a message of need of indigenous methods and ill effects of using the pesticides. There are stories of love and tears and the complete saga of human emotions. One can just keep reading.

So did, I kept reading other stories. The way she picks the theme, and makes the scenario and at last brings her ‘message’ quite efficiently are really impressive. The sentences used are simple yet full of flow.

After few days of my reading, Ma arrived here. I let her read the book. She got something good to read at home, when I was in office. She read all the stories and was equally impressed by the stories. In evenings and back to home journey, I re-heard the stories from her. She just gets lost, while narrating the stories, after losing herself in the characters! It was easy to guess, how much she loved the stories.

I let Ma know, the writer is from Bangalore itself. She said to write her back congratulating on her debut story book.

After few days, I wrote Gargi back and she replied. And her reply again left an impression of earthiness and a humble appreciation of praise.

She told me about her one new book to be published. And I do hope, the new book will be a success again on the bookstalls and she will be a hit in Bengali literary circle.

Congrats to Gargi ! May God bless her pen and her supportive family !

Sipping a glass of juice

by

Today early afternoon, after lunch I walked to the juice shop. She, the beggar, was standing near to me asking for money.

Her age may be around 70 or more. Dirty linen and weird grey hairs, black skinny hands and dirty nails and a big round grey bag hanging behind her.

I tried to pay no attention to her as they do keep roaming in the busy market. She again asked for bheekh, and the shopkeeper in Kannada said something to her. The only word I could I understood was juice. I thought the shopkeeper is telling her to stay away from the juice shop. But she did not moved away but she was not looking towards me for coins.

Few coins do not matter for me as much that may matter for her. But still not to encourage the number of more beggars, I did not gave her.

I had ordered for a glass of mausambi juice.To pass off the time, I was looking at the juice making process inside the shop trying to avoid ( in fact I can’t ever ) her . I was the only customer at the shop at that time. Normally for one glass of juice, two mausambi are used. I saw him the juice-maker putting four mausambi’s in the juicer.

Juice was prepared within a minute – not one glass but two glasses ! One glass for me and other for the beggar lady. I picked up the glass and looked towards her. The beggar lady was counting coins in her dirty thin palms. Keeping many coins in her left hand, she was counting the coins in her right hand. I thought, she is ounting the coins to pay for her glass of juice. Coins of Rs. 1, Rs. 2 and Rs. 5 and occassional 50 Paise.

She still didn’t picked her glass by the time I had finished mine. She was re-counting the coins, as if she had done some mistake.

Seeing her counting ‘so many’ coins for a glass of juice, I could not keep myself with ‘no-no principle’ to beggars. Taking out my purse, I said to the shopkeeper that I will pay for her juice too, please don’t take her handful of coins.

The shopkeeper said “no” and in broken Hindi he continued ” She gives coins us as ‘change’ and we exchange her with the currency notes.” I understood the barter system as well understood the need of coins by the shopkeeper. As a thanking gesture, shopkeeper gave her glass of juice too.

I had a mixed feeling for not given her coins, as well for the thanks giving gesture of shopkeeper with a glass of juice. After paying I came out of the shop seeing her.

From a distance I saw, she was holding the big glass of juice with her two hands, and sipping the juice (the nectar) slowly.

Children’s Day Special

by

Today is Children’s day – the birthday of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, the first prime minister of India. The day is celebrated as children’s day because he used to love children’s very much and hence the children used to call him “Chacha” ( Uncle) . So he became popularly known as ” Chacha Nehru”. Though international children’s day is 20th Nov. but in India, as a mark of birthday of “Chacha Nehru” we do celebrate it on 14 Nov. each year. I would like to mention that “Chacha Nehru was born on 14th Nov. 1989 1889 and died on May 27, 1964.

The above picture may look like as another snap. But I wish to say something about it. Few months back, in front of my house, where lower middle class people stays, I saw the kids playing “Teacher – Student ” . Their parents may be working in some factories or as house maids but the kids are really smart. The time was around 10 am in morning. Like every weekend their play was again “teacher-student” that day too. I have seen that, coming back from school, they do their homeworks first !

No one forces them to do so with sticks. At the same time, no one is needed to keep them away from video-games or TV screens. They are playing and enjoying “teacher-student” game on weekends. At the left door one little girl is sketching and other kid is seeing them. The little girl knows the school saraswati vandana complete. “नमस्ते सरस्वती देवी….. ” She sings that while playing. On the right door, a girl is reading the lessons of some story book loudly and others are listening to her. The Teacher madam sometimes lovingly scolds the students too.

Now a days, one family is not there now, so the teacher madam is not there to lead the play. Though I couldn’t understand their Kannada, but I can understand the language of budding childhood, which show the infinite prospects in them. It was a visual treat to my eyes. Happy Children’s Day !!

Thousands of Thanks

by

Sending 25 thousands thanks to You. You have made 25,000 visits to this blog. Your consistency and encouragement motivated me to get a Nikon for capturing unexpressed moments in the stage of words. 

Flower Vase, Drawing Room, Bangalore 

Today, welcome all of you in my drawing room. This particular image will change periodically as per changing time and colors. I wish, I could put some more pictures frequently to express something worth thousands of words, when my literal words need them as companions.

Thanks once again.

प्यासी पगली

by

वह शुक्रवार का दिन, और कंपनी की टीम लंच-पार्टी । क्या पियेंगे आप- मिनरल वाटर, सोडा वाटर या और कोई कोल्ड ड्रिंक , मीनू देखिये और बस आर्डर किजिए जनाब , चाहे तो फलेवर वाली लस्सी और बटर-मिल्क भी है ।

उस दिन दोपहर का खाना था इसलिए ‘लाल-शरबत’ का आयोजन नहीं था । वैसे मैं पीता नहीं हूँ पर मैनें देखा है यहाँ पर, सोमरस बिना पार्टी नहीं होती है यहाँ । फिर भी मस्त पार्टी हूई थी । चुँकि अबकी बार हमारे नियमित रेस्तराँ से ये अलग यह एक नया रेस्तराँ था, इसलिए स्वाद जीभ पर चिपक कर रह गया । करीब 35 जनों की हमारी टीम में हमलोग गये थे मस्त से रेस्तरां में । हँसी-मजाक और टेबल पर पिघल रहे थे आईसक्रीम पर लाल-लाल चेरी। उस दिन भी सभी ने जम-कर खाया-पीया ।

और पार्टी के बाद हमलोग वापस हो रहे थे । लौटते समय भी अपने कैब में मैं आने के समय के तरह ही नहीं बैठा था । ऐसे समय में मस्ती मुझे भाती है । कैब का JBL सराउंड साउंड सिस्टम इतना मस्त था कि चलती कैब में भी मैनें नाचने की कोई कसर न छोड़ी थी । आते समय खुब नाचा था – अपने दोस्तों के साथ । अबकी बार लौटती बार में भी पेट भरा होने पर भी थोड़ा थिरक तो जरुर सकता था ।

अभी थिड़कना मैनें शुरू ही किया था कि, ट्रैफिक पर कैब रुक गयी ।

खैर मेरा मन हूआ कि थोड़ा बाहर देखुँ । थोड़ा झुककर बाहर झाँककर देखा तो एक पानी का टैंकर का पीछे वाला हिस्सा दिखा । उसके पास घुम रही थी एक किशोरी लड़की – पगली सी। उमर होगी कोई 18-19 साल या और कम पता नहीं लगा मुझे। उसकी पतली सी काली सी देह पर, गंदे से सलवार-कमीज । पतली रस्सी सी मटमैली पीली चुनर कमर पर बँधी हूई ।

अब मेरे डांस वाले थिड़कते पैर – पता नहीं क्यों जम से गये । मैं देख रहा था, उस पगली की आँखों को । मुझे लगा वह कुछ खोज रही थी। शायद ढुँढ रही थी रास्ता या और कुछ । वह टैंकर के पीछे गयी । जहाँ टैंकर के पीछे से पानी नल से टपक रहा था, वहाँ वह खड़ी हो गयी । और जल्दी ही मेरी शंका दुर हो गयी । पता चला वह पगली नहीं थी – वह कान साफ करने के बड्स बेचने वाली थी । उसके हाथ में कुछ पैकट थे – कान साफ करने वाले सस्ते रंगीन बड्स के । जिसे शायद ट्रैफिक जाम में रुके कार के अधखुले खिड़कियों और हेलमेट से मुखड़े लगाये सभ्य लोगों को बेचती थी ।

पर उसके आँखों से साफ था कि वह अभी वह बड्स खरीदने वाले ग्राहक नहीं ढुँढ रही थी । उसने अपने बड्स के पैकेट को झोले में जल्दी से डाल दी । टैंकर से पीछे वाले जिस नल से पानी की बुँदे टपक रहा था , वहाँ पर पानी निकलने वाले हैंडल को उसने थोड़ा घुमाया, और वहाँ से पानी की पतली सी धारा बहने लगी सड़क पर । वह अपने हाथों से चुल्लु बनाकर पानी की धारा गटक रही थी । लग रहा था, महीनों से प्यासी है वह । बता दूँ कि पानी मुफ्त में नहीं मिलता है यहाँ बंगलौर में – और वह टैंकर भी कहीं किसी के घर में पानी बेचने जा रहा होगा । पर उस दिन खुले सड़क पर, वह पी रही थी बेचे जाने वाली पानी – मुफ्त मे । पर वह पी रही थी चोरी-चोरी – सबके सामने । कहीं टैंकर का ड्राईवर या खलासी देख न ले – वह गटक रही थी पानी उस तपती दुपहरिया में । उसके सलवार पर पानी के छींटे गिर रहे थे । पानी पीकर उसने उस बहती धारा में अपनी बाहों को आधा धो लिया । उसकी कमीज का निचला किनारा भींज चुका था ।

हमारी कैब की खिड़की से सब लोग अब यह सब देख रहे थे । टैंकर के पीछे खड़ी थी – होंडा सीटी कार । उसकी काँच के पीछे से भी चार आँखें उसे देख रही थी । उसने अब उस पानी से जल्दी-जल्दी अपना चेहरा धो लिया – थोड़ी साफ सी हो गयी थी अब वो । सारा कुछ हो गया करीब 1-2 मिनट में । अब शायद उसका समय हो गया था । ट्रैफिक का जाम भी अब साफ हो सकता था। अब वह टैंकर का हैंडिल बंद करते-करते अपने पैर भी धो डाली । नल बंद होते ही पानी की धार रुक गयी । उसका काम हो गया था ।

इतनी सफाई से टैंकर का नल खोलना और बंद करने से साफ हो गया कि हमारी पगली ऐसे कामों की अभ्यस्त थी । अब धोये हूए भींगें सामने के बाल, भींगें सलवार-कमीज के छोर । प्यासी की तृष्णा बुझ चुकी थी । उसकी चेहरे पर एक तृपती सी आ गयी । अब जल्दी से दो बड्स के पैकेट निकाल कर सड़क के उस पार चली गयी । मुड़कर भी नहीं देखा टेंकर की ओर या मुझ लेखक को ।

वह मेरी आँखों के सामने से ओझल हो गयी थी पर – भींग गयी थी बहुत सी चीजें – भींग गयी थी काली तपती सड़क, दो चार बुँदों से भींग गयी होगी – हमारी लंच-पार्टी की कैब की पहिए । भींग गयी होगी – एकाध पानी की छींटों से कार की बम्पर ।

ट्रैफिक सिग्नल की बत्ती हरी हो गयी । चल पड़ी हमारी कैब । चल पड़ी टैंकर । चल पड़ी कार । और टैंकर के पीछे नल से पहले की तरह से टपक रहा था बुँद-बुँद पानी ।

Nothing but attitude counts – Freshers’ software jobs

by

For last more than 8 months, this never met brother of mine, (another IGNOU student) was my second ‘scolded’ fresher in the job market. First one ‘Pra…’ is happy with her Accenture job.I like to associate myself with these guys, whenever I find time. What I see in these guys / girls- is their attitude to come up all odds and the tendency to win and win. Best organisations need ‘only’ them.

Here is the letter of the same guy I received now. Same feeling arose after receiving ‘Pra…’ SMS “Bhaiya, I got a job in Accenture ! “. And I almost jumped my seat. She got the job, few days before she was about to return back to UP.

For the time being, I am reproducing unedited letter received today for other freshers to read, though ‘Abhi..’ never knew this letter will go public ever ….

Hello Dada,
I have a very good news. I have gotten a job over here at Noida in CSC
(Computer Sciences Corporation) at the position of SAP Basis Administrator.
The Company shall provide all the necessary training and for that i had to sign
off a bond of two years with the firm.

Dada I owe you a lot, it’s because of you that I have been able to aquire
this job. It’s your motivation and guidance because of which I have been able to
prepare, revise and learn many different technologies simultaneously and it’s only
because of this reason that it didn’t take me long to revise Oracle based on which
this interviw took place. In the last whole month I appeared in atleast 3 rounds
of technial interviewin this firm and finally I got selected. My office is also
now very close from my residence. In a way it is very good that I didn’t have to
relocate to Bangalore coz my parents require my attention here a lot more than ever
now. My father especially coz he has been put on Insulin Shots since last two months.
I have only one regret now I wanted to meet you in person which didn’t happen. But
I am sure it will happen soon some time. Dada if you ever happen to cook some plan
of coming over to Delhi even for once please let me know. I am very eagerly waiting.
Also if I ever happen to visit bangalore or surrounding area’s ever I will most
certainly intimate you, and we will meet. ok dada. Please keep in touch. By the
way, I forgot to ask you dada. How is everything going on? How is everyone in your
family doing? please reply soon. waiting eagerly to hear from you.

Regards
Abhi….

Hope none goes unguided. Few more guys are under construction…

सड़क पर आम

by

आज दिन के करीब 11 बज रहे थे । बंगलौर की सड़कों लोगों और गाड़ियों के हिसाब से संकड़ी दिखती थी । इन सड़कों जैसी रगों में दौड़ती थी – हमारी अर्थव्यवस्था की जान और रंगीन कारें,खचाखच भड़ी बसें, स्कुटी और मोटरसाइकिलों की पुरी जमात ।

इस तिराहे पर कोई लाल बत्ती नहीं थी पर चेहरे पर मास्क लगाकर खड़ा था – ट्रैफिक पुलिसवाला । लाल बत्ती और हरी बत्ती के ईशारे को उसके हाथों से समझने की जरुरत होती थी । ट्रैफिक ज़ाम का मतलब होता था – कोई आधी किलोमीटर तक गाड़ियों की लाईन । देखकर लगता था – एक का पुँछ पकड़े दुसरा तैयार है – दौड़ लगाने को ।

ऐसी ही गाड़ियों के लाइन में सबसे सामने खड़ा था – एक आमवाला । उसके ठेले पर भड़े परे थे – पीले पीले पके आम । काफी बड़े बड़े आम थे । शायद सुबह ही उसने करीने से सजाए रखे थे – पहाड़ की तरह । इन गाड़ियों और लोगों के बीच में सामने में खड़ा आम का ठेला एक बार तो सबकी नजरें जरुर अटकाता होगा । इस महीने आम की बिक्री भी खुब होती होगी इसलिए आम सजे हुए थे – लगभग ठेले के अंतिम कोनों तक ।

उसके दाहिने बगल खड़ी थी एक हरे रंग की सुंदर सी बड़ी कार । अंदर कार के अंदर बैठे लोग ए सी में म्युजिक सिस्टम सुन रहे होंगे । । कम से कम 50 हजार रुपये की मासिक कमाने वाला कारवाला और 5 हजार रुपये कमा लेने पर खुश होने वाला आमवाला । भारतीय अर्थव्यवस्था की सच्ची तस्वीर । ट्रैफिक जाम में दोनों अटक पड़े – खैर दोनों ही इंतजार कर रहे थे – टैफिक पुलिस की इशारे की । बस हाथ का इशारा होता तो दोनों दौड़ जाते ।

दुसरी और से गाड़िओं की काफी लंबी कतार खत्म हो गयी तब ट्रैफिक पुलिस वाला इधर की और इशारा करने ही वाला था गियर चेंज किया कार वाले और ठेले को थक्का देने के लिए तैयार आमवाला ।बायीं और खड़े नवयुवक अपनी मोटरसाईकिल स्टार्ट कर चुके थे ।

ट्रैफिक पुलिसवाले ने जाने के इशारा कर ही दिया – अचानक आमवाले के बाँयी और से निकल गया एक मोटरसाईकिल वाला । और आमवाला अपने ठेले को धक्का दे रहा था कि थोड़ी झटक लग गयी ठेले में । ठेले के सामने से करीब आठ – दस आम लुढ़क कर सड़क पर गिर गये कार के सामने । कारवाले ने एक्सीलेरेटर नहीं दबाया था पर बस कार के पहिये से बस एक फीट की दुरी पर कुछ आम थे ।

ठेलावाला झट से दौड़कर कार के सामने आ गया – चुनने लगा आम । एक आम को चुनकर हाथों से छाती पर अटकाया फिर दो आम चुनकर ठेले पर उसने रखा । फिर जल्दी से झुकाया सर कार के सामने फिर से चुनने के लिए । किसी तरह से उठा लिया उसने एक आम को – पर बढ़ने लगी कार की गति । अभी भी कई और आम पड़े थे – नहीं रुकी कार । जैसे ही आमवाला ठेले पर आम रखा ही था कि – काली सड़क पर काली टायरों ने आमों को पिचक दिया । कार निकल गयी और पिचका गई दो आमों को । अब भी आमवाला देख रहा था उन आमों को जो गाड़ी के सामने ठीक बीच में गिरे थे – जिन पर टायरें नही जा सकती । बचे आमों को चुनने फिर बढ़ गया आमवाला । चुन लिया उसने दो साबुत आम बिना परवाह किये पीछे हार्न बजाती गाड़ियों का । उसने फिर ठेले पर आम रखा ही था कि फिर बाकी कई आमों को फिर पिचकाती गई दुसरी गाड़ियाँ । अब वह देख रहा था एक बचे आम को – जो सारी पहियों से बच गया – वह उसे चुनना चाह ही रहा थी कि एक जीप का चक्का उसे भी पीस कर निकल गया ।

ठेले के दाहिने – बायें दोनों तरफ से गाड़ियाँ निकलती चली गयी । बीच में रह गये करीब दो क्विंटल आमों से लदा एक ठेला – पसीने से लतपथ आमवाला – और उसकी दो धँसी हूई आँखें जो देख रही थी सड़क पर पड़ी गुठलियाँ – पिचके आम का पानी सा गुदा – और सड़क से चिपके छिलके ।

अगर बस एक मिनट से भी कम समय बड़े लोग उसे दे देते तो वह अपना सारा आम चुन लेता । किसी ने न सीखी आम की सीख – जो महीनों तक धुप-पानी सहकर एक दिन दुसरों को मिठास देता है ।