innocence personified....

Day before yesterday, i was walking down with my kid to nearby shop to get Rakhis. To my surprise he was very happy to walk with his one hand firmly holding mine...or was it vice versa :)...

we were quite. He was busy observing each n every vehicle that passed us and naming them enthusiastically...Riksha, motorcycle..car..bhubhu doggy doggy...yeah sometimes he repeats doggy just like bhu-bhu :)

i didn't ask my usual questions like "what did u do today" or "what u had for food" ....i enjoyed that little , silently connected walk of ours.

we reached our destination, the general store. As soon as he saw the shop with multicolor balls hanging on the door, he ran in.... i got busy selecting the rakhis. His eyes wandering and trying to catch every glimpse of surrounding...looking for the things he would love to get his hands on.. I just had a look at the small aisle crowded with all weird things starting from books to small buckets ...from mugs to bangles....and ofcource a enthusiastic child :) Just made sure he is safe among all such glittering gizmo before returning to the rakhi selection.

By the time i was done with my rakhi selection ,which i am sure was just a matter of few minutes, he was there standing with his new possession ( yeah once its in his hand, he already has possessed it ;)

He stood there looking at the new "Car"...

"wow, nice car, let me see it" ....well he is my kid, didn't fall for such lousy comment, he didn't hand it over to me :)

it was silver color with beige sit covers convertible car. I picked up 2-3 more fancy bright color cars but he was firm he wanted to get the one in his hands. Had to pay the shopkeeper "guessed" price :) and we started way back to home...but this was different journey all together.

No other 2/3/4 wheeler was of any importance :)

As soon as we were out, he wanted the car out of the plastic cover...60% was done and it was already on the road ....he just sat there in the middle of the road driving his brand new car.. I somehow managed to get him up and pursue to park the car in his hand till we reach home. He looked unhappy but still excited.

I couldn't stop smiling with his next move...he held my right hand and his right hand managing to hold the big car...he kept on driving it...on his Tummy !!! :D :D

This reminded me about a conversation i recently had with a friend, "as we grow up , the things which makes us happy decreases...so may be when we grow very old, there might be just 1 or 2 things which can give us pleasure, which will make us smile ".

So true isn't it?

The twinkle in my kid's eyes after each new thing in his life ......

yes, i have one immortal thing to be happy about. :)

Bad memory..good memory

Do you have strong bad memory or good memory?
do u remember bad instances or good instances??

A friend said, we tend to memorise "bad things happened to us" for longer span....
Thought about it and happy that the theory doesnt hold true for me ...

what about you???

बूंदे...

Was chatting with my dear friend today...we talk like this...anything...crazy stuff...

jo bhi dimag me aya..bola...vaise ke vaise likha hai ....ab padh rahi hu to lag raha hai..bich bich me kitne english words use karti hu !!! shyaaaa.....

जब किसी वॉल से पानी की धारा बहती है॥

देखा तो होगा कई बार

एक एक बूँद नीचे नीचे आती है

उपर वाली बूँद पता नही क्यू लगता है फास्ट है

नीचे वाली बूँदोसे...

और जैसेही उन्हे आके मिलती है

कभी देखा है?

दोनो कैसे एक हो जाते है

जैसे कभी 2 अलग थे ही नही

रुकते नही॥

और आगे जाते है.....और बूंदे समाते है

जब 2 बूंदे मिलती है...एक हल्का सा jerk होता है

जब वो merge होते है॥

पीछे कुछ नही रहता.....

एक तेजिसे आ जाती है उनमे...

और दौड़ने लगते है........

बूंदे...

Blessed.....

The one who will just see in my eyes and understand why i am so irritated,
why i am taking frustrations on him,
why i am crying for stupid reasons ,
listen to my tantrums just because he knows i am not in good mood..
wont take anything personally even when i say "F%$* Y*$" :) or "Get Lost"
The one who will still take me in his arms and cool me down n ask..."whats bothering you honey"...

The one I truly love...
will i be blessed with such love???

hmm..... i guess its time to ask..do u make someone feel so blessed??

i wanna discover myself.....i wanna be blessed n i wanna bless :)

शब्दे विण संवादू....

ऑफिस ला जातानाच्या घाईत तिला स्कूटी च्या आराश्यातून मागुन येणारया बाईक चा headlight चालू दिसला ...तिने twinkle twinkle little star ची action केली पुढच्या वेळी आरश्यात बघितले तेंवा headlight off होता :) ती खुश झाली

सिग्नल ला गाडी थांबली ...तिच्या शेजारी उभ्या टोणग्याने पचकन थुन्कून धरती पावन केली....तिने एक जळजळीत कटाक्ष टाकला , आळीपाळीने एकदा बिचारःया धरनी माय कड़े अणि एकदा त्या @#^%$ कड़े...

तिचा पुढचा सिग्नल green असताना दुसर्या बाजूची वाहने संधि-साधू पणा करू लागली..तिने होते नव्हते सगळे बळ एकवटून जोरात horn वाजवला आणि तिचा पुढे जाण्याचा हक्क बजावला ...


रात्री साडेनाऊ वाजता बॉसने विचारले , आज EOD (??!!) पर्यंत होईल ना पूर्ण ?? एक दीर्घ सुस्कारा सोडून ती नुसतीच हसली...


११ वाजता टाटा करून निघत असताना सहकारी खुणेने विचारले drop?? तीही निग्रहाने बाइक च्या keys दाखवून डोळे मिचकावून थॅंक्स म्हणाली ...


एक दिवस संपलेला असतो....दुसर्‍या दिवसाची मूकपणे वाट बघत...


ता . क. : इथे तिच्या बाळाच्या आणि तिच्या मूक संवादाचे वर्णन करावे एवढे सामर्थ्य माझ्या शब्दात नाही....

Gone are the days....

Just posting a mail thread shared recently between friends...
The below is my reply to the Paragraph which follows it:

I am one of them :) still remember growing up when boon was lazy enough to run a single…
In college, when some lecture was too difficult to understand, we used to name it as “klusner’s sixers”….
When I got scolded by my big bro for having posters of Rahul dravid all over my room J (that was 12th ..critical year of life ;) )
Still remember me n my bro used to play in our small Hall where he would be Lara n I would be Kumble or he would be Walsh n I would be Tendlya…
Miss the silly events when I started hating saurav cos he “runout” my dravid :)
When I used to sit at the same place when tendlya was in 90ties.
Cried with joy when shrinath n kumble won the match by their batting …remember???
Felt so proud of shrinath when he helped Kumble’s 10 wicket record by not getting any wicket by himself …
Felt so damn proud when Prasad pointed at pavilion to aamir sohail after he was clean bowled…

Oh so many so many so many lovely memories…

Oh nostalgia….i better complete the traceability matrix first :) :(



p.s. I will surely stop watching cricket after Tendlya n dravid retires.....just the way I stopped women’s tennis after Steffi retired.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The change of guard in Indian cricket has pulled the rug out from under the feet of a generation of cricket watchers
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
November 7, 2008

The events of the last few weeks are freaking me out. Anil Kumble has gone, Sourav Ganguly will go, and the other three may not be far behind. I assume there is a large group of cricket fans in their mid-to-late 20s, like me, who are grappling with the implications. This transition is messing with our minds.
Let me explain. For many of us cricket began in November 1989. Pictures of what went before are too hazy. I remember Allan Border lifting the World Cup but don't recall what I was doing then. So I can't connect Australia's World Cup win to my own life.
Sachin Tendulkar spoilt us. He commanded that we sit in front of the television sets. He ensured we got late with homework, he took care of our lunch-break discussions. He was not all that much older than us, and some of us naïve schoolboys thought we would achieve similar feats when we were 16. We got to 16 and continued to struggle with homework.
Then came Kumble and the two undertook a teenager-pampering mission not seen in India before. Tendlya walked on water, Jumbo parted seas. Our mothers were happy that we had nice heroes - down-to-earth prodigy and studious, brilliant bespectacled engineer. They were honest, industrious sportsmen, embodying the middle class.
When we thought we had seen everything, they reversed roles - Tendlya bowled a nerve-wracking last over in a semi-final, Jumbo played a match-winning hand with the bat. We were such spoilt brats that we pined for openers and fast bowlers. We cursed the side for not winning abroad. Such greed.
Economists would probably have predicted the bursting of the bubble. We had a deluge instead. One fine day at Lord's we got a glimpse of two new saviours: Delicate Timing and Immaculate Technique. Suddenly my group of eight friends was split into two camps. You were either with Ganguly or Dravid. In that period we even took Kumble and Tendulkar for granted. It was adolescent indulgence taken to the extreme.
When we played cricket on the streets, we had a number of choices. Left-handers were thrilled, defensive batsmen were happy, extravagant stroke-makers were delighted, the short boys didn't need to feel left out anymore, spectacles became cool, and freaky bowling actions were no more laughed at.
In such a state of bliss did we live our lives. We flunked important exams, shed tears over girls, crashed bikes, had drunken parties, choked on our first cigarettes, and felt utterly confused about our futures. But every time we felt low, we had an escape route. One glimpse of Dada stepping out of the crease, or Jam leaving a sharp bouncer alone, or Kumble firing in a yorker, was an uplifting experience. So what if India lost? Could any of those Pakistani batsmen even dream of batting like Sachin or VVS?


My generation needs to brace itself for this exodus. Some of my friends have been talking of needing to revaluate their own careers

I remember Ganguly and Dravid soaring in Taunton, mainly because it was the day I got my board-exam results. And boy, did that provide some much-needed relief. I remember Tendulkar's blitz against Australia in Bombay because my dad, who thought cricket was a waste of time, sat through every ball. So connected were these cricketers to my growing up.
Now, after close to 20 years, my generation needs to brace itself for this exodus. Some of my friends, crazy as this sounds, have been talking of needing to revaluate their own careers. Others are realising they need to recalibrate their childhood definitions of cricket. "Part of me just died," said a college friend who was the kind of extreme cricket buff who memorised scorecards. "No Dada, no Jumbo. I'm positive I'll stop watching after Sachin and Rahul retire."
These players were not only outstanding cricketers but also great statesmen. However hard they competed, they were always exceptional role models. Now we dread the next wave of brashness and impetuosity. Harbhajan Singh and Sreesanth are talented cricketers, but there's no way anyone would want a young kid to emulate either. The younger crop seems worse - a visit to some of their Orkut and Facebook pages tells you enough - and things may only get cruder in a cricket world when you can make a million dollars in a little over three hours.
"Our childhood is ending," said a friend from school, and in some way he was probably spot on. Tendulkar's retirement may mean a lot of things to a lot of people, but for a generation of 25- to 30-year-olds it will mark the end of the first part of their lives. Switching on the television the day after will be a serious challenge.

Life Is Complex...

मला असे काहीतरी वाक्यं टाकुन गप्प बसायची सवय लागली आहे....