There are some moments that sink in our minds through the chinks of time. Some words, some lessons that make way through the labyrinths of our sub-conscious, and lie embedded deep somewhere. It is only when we are shaken from our day-to-day reveries, by a long-forgotten fragrance...or a nostalgic song...or a blurred sense of déjà-vu that we get to sneak a peek into our own minds. One such occasion for me was visiting the steel plants of Bokaro and Durgapur, years after I first saw them. I was among the five new Junior Managers (Communication) who landed in Durgapur way back in 2006. Even before we had officially joined the company, we jested about our choice of joining SAIL. Usually, in the career graphs of people, an ascent is marked by migration to a more developed place. And there we were – five fresh graduates from the Indian Institute of Mass Communication in Delhi, with ambitious plans and high dreams, travelling from the mega capital of India to some place people lear...
He doesn't look 40, does he? A couple of years ago, I picked up a renowned book by Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. I realized after going through the first few pages, that the book didn’t really offer anything new to me, courtesy my sibling teacher, my brother. What the book tried to teach in logic and words, my brother had taught me all along through practical demonstration. Almost all the good habits I have internalized so far, are owed to him. On his 40 th , it’s about time I pay my gratitude in ink. Let’s start with my first life lesson: Abandon labels In the 80s, even with limited access to TV for children of my generation, Bollywood faces were household names. Among them was the lesser known singer and widely popular actor-comedian, Tuntun. In those days, Tuntun was synonymous with overweight bubbly women. As the heaviest among three siblings, never mind that I was just five, brother chose to christen me Tuntun. It didn’t take any ceremony for the na...
Dear Rain, You had been hiding from me for quite a while. I looked around, searched every corner for the slightest trace of you. Allowed my heart to run wild at the weakest indication of you coming…the mildest storm; the gurgling thunder, the incipient earthy smell. But you – you kept my heart on a leash, bruising it unfailingly each time. Bumping it over thorny hope. Tantalising. Teasing. Setting the stage for a grand shower, and ending up in a mocking trickle. Why would you do that to a lover so staunch, only your kind will know, some of who are also in my acquaintance. Like theirs, I know not your reasons. The last I had a meal full of you was in Bokaro. Then came Delhi, dry and unsparing. Merciless and wrathful. Your lack alone keeps the city of my breeding an arm’s length from my heart. It takes moisture, of form and being, to stay in my soul. But this time, O! beloved, I chased you straight to your roosting place. Goa. And then it dawned upon me – you too had been...
सुदर्शन फाकिर की पंक्ति याद आई :
ReplyDeleteकिसी रंजिश को हवा दो कि मैं जिंदा हूँ अभी
मुझको एहसास दिला दो कि मैं जिंदा हूँ अभी
शायर का नाम न सही, पर एक यह भी पंक्ति याद आई:
जिंदा हूँ मैं अभी, एहसास तो दिलाओ मुझे
अगर मुस्कुराती नहीं तो, कोई रुलाओ मुझे
... बधाई !
you do exist :-)
ReplyDeleteLet thousand flowers bloom and
ReplyDeletemillion lights glow
Let your dream fly past the blue sky,
Let your journey start from Silence to Mozart!