tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75542634043089461162024-02-18T20:48:22.642-08:00Direct Dil SeSukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-67180752645029720762015-09-22T09:11:00.001-07:002015-09-22T09:11:32.935-07:00How BJP is trying to change the “idea of India”- one ban at a time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.jantakareporter.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Modi_AmitShah_519617532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.jantakareporter.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Modi_AmitShah_519617532.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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India is under attack, but not from the some external
agency, or enemy country, but from within. And strangely, the ones attacking
India are the one who seem to have copyrighted terms like “nationalism”,
“patriotism” and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>claim to be actually
propelling the country ahead to glorious times. Confused? Let me explain.</div>
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India is a country that has, for over centuries, been<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>known for its diversity. India has been a
nation which has absorbed many cultures, many religions, many languages and
adapted them locally to have what we now know as India. This idea of India was
where different languages co-existed, where religions co-existed, different
cultures too co-existed. And it was this co-existence that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when it came together formed India. “Unity in
diversity”- that is what I learnt in school. But sadly, this diversity is being
threatened, and so is the idea of India.</div>
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2014 elections were considered a major turning point for a
number of reasons. For the first time social media and technology played a very
important role. There were a large number of first-time voters, an
anti-corruption movement. It was also one of the most polarizing elections of
recent times. The ascent of Narendra Modi was being feared by many liberals and
seculars as being antithetic to the idea of India. They were booed, termed
anti-national, pseudo-secular, and anti-development.</div>
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But 1 year down the line, the cloak is coming off, and the
sheen of development promises is fading too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is important to see how in this time,
constant attempts have been made to re-imagine India only as a “Hindu” nation,
with Hindutva as the only philosophy as Hinduism. Signs of this had started
appearing when the Prime Minister and Home Minister claimed mythology as
scientific evidence. Hinduism and the Vedas had all the answers, or so the new
Govt would have us believe. A scientific conference strangely had papers on
mythological inventions, and the government was spending money trying to prove
the superiority of ancient India, which of course meant only “Hindu India”. The
PM, in his intial speeches referred to “thousand years of slavery”. The British
ruled India for some 200 years only. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
see,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mughals weren’t part of India in
the BJP’s version. India only existed before the Muslim invaded and settled
down. But this was restricted to speeches till now.</div>
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The first major signs of belittling of minorities were
visible when PM Modi declared Christmas as a “Good Governance Day”. A smart
move to mask your intentions with words like “good” there. There were
controversies abound, but the adamant BJP and PM stuck to it. The hullabaloo
was soon settled. But the government had made its intentions clear. It will not
buckle down, and more would follow. It would be interesting to note how VHP and
Sangh Parivar, BJP’s parent organisations, have been involved previously in
attacks over Christians. Was it mere co-incidence then that the country also
saw a spurt in violence against Christian places of worship?</div>
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Then there were the “ghar wapsi” campaigns and love-jihad
propaganda of the Sangh. Suddenly, love between a hindu and a muslim was deemed
a conspiracy. Ridiculous claims were made. As if love marriages, especially
inter-religious marriages, in India were any less opposed by parents, it also
became the site of Sanghs political play. The PM, which takes to twitter to
wish birthdays and congratulations for achievement, had nothing to say about
the whole affair. BJP washed its hands off the matter saying the central
government had nothing to do with it, and policing was a state affair. That the
parent body of BJP, from which most of the government ministers have come, is
involved in such vitriol was suddenly of no importance. Silence in this case
was more related to condoning of the acts, rather than being silenced by pain.</div>
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If the poor/common Muslim was attacked through such tirades,
the high and mighty weren’t left either. BJP and the Sangh have time and again
targeted Vice President Hamid Karzai. He was first targeted by the Hindu right
with pictures of him being circulated for not saluting the National Flag at the
Republic Day Reviewing Stand, and then for not being present at the Yoga Day
celebrations by the Govt. In both the cases, the credentials of a person who
has served the country for years were questioned because he was a Muslim. In
doing so, the message that the BJP was clearly trying to send was- if we can
target the Vice President,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we can easily
target you (the common Muslim).</div>
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But attack on Muslims hasn’t been the only salient feature
of this Govt. NGOs have come under special scanner. Greenpeace has been
targeted constantly because of its work, and because it has exposed the many
ways through which a corporate-government nexus is ruining lives and
environments. Teesta Setalvad was another target, and she had to get relief from
the courts finally. Dissent, a hallmark of a dynamic democracy, is no longer
allowed under this Govt. So much so that TV channels are being sent notices for
questioning the PM and his schemes (indirectly), or for showing other side of
the story (Yakub Memon). Fear and intimidation are being instilled into the
people.</div>
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But that’s not all. BJP also wants to decide what food you
eat, what kind of sex you have (in this case the matter was made easy by the
Supreme Court), and what things you watch. So suddenly, one fine day, ISPs
started blocking some popular porn sites. It is interesting to note that the
previous UPA govt had told the Supreme Court that it wasn’t possible to ban
porn on the internet, in fact, the courts had also said that what one watches
in his/her privacy is no one’s business. Yet, the Govt took it upon itself to
ban over 300 porn sites, in the most secretive way possible. The excuse of
“child pornography” didn’t hold true when the list was leaked over the
internet. Sangh Parivar (and BJP) have always looked at sex (and sexual
pleasure like porn) as immoral, and so it was no surprise that it went in a
hurry to ban porn sites and decide what the citizens could access over the
internet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While porn ban was something that the govt had to revert, it
has again tried targeting Muslims and their livelihood and eating habits by the
infamous Beef Ban. Maharashtra, ruled by BJP currently, banned beef and the
punishment for the possession of the same was made as 10 years. Cow slaughter
was already banned in the state, but by banning the consumption and slaughter
of other bovines, BJP was again playing its anti-muslim card. Other BJP states
too followed soon. If the Muslims had to live in BJP ruled parts, they must do
so on BJP’s terms. That the Constitution gives everyone equal rights,
irrespective of caste,c reed, religion, sex… didn’t matter to BJP. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">First they came for
the Socialists, and I did not speak out—<br />
Because I was not a Socialist.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Then they came for the
Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—<br />
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Then they came for the
Jews, and I did not speak out—<br />
Because I was not a Jew.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Then they came for
me—and there was no one left to speak for me.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These lines by Pastor Martin Niemöller fits the Indian
scenario perfectly today. So while eating habits and patriotism of Muslims (or
anyone who questioned the govt) were being targeted, majority Indians kept
quiet, for it did not affect them. But with a blanket ban of meat in the name
of “respecting sentiments of Jains” being place in Maharashtra and other BJP
states, it was no longer the Muslim or Dalit who was the target. The
Brahminical tyranny of BJP was in full display.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/05/20/article-urn:publicid:ap.org:bb7084d900b14e67a2891f2fc8e913d8-6PiL0HXHo-HSK1-919_634x397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/05/20/article-urn:publicid:ap.org:bb7084d900b14e67a2891f2fc8e913d8-6PiL0HXHo-HSK1-919_634x397.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Compare the histrionics of the PM when he was sworn in, to
the present day scenario. He remains mostly absent from Parliament debates, but
rushes to the RSS conclave to present a report card of the govt. He doesn’t
prefer to answer the opposition (elected members), but has no qualms in
answering the Sangh Parivars call. No sooner had the ministers come out of the
RSS conclave, that the culture minister was all charged up giving interview of
what the definition of Indian culture was, and how “despite being a muslim” APJ
Abdul Kalam was a great humanist and nationalist.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
BJP, whether through its bans, or by questioning the
patriotism or nationalism of certain sections of the country, has been
constantly attacking the idea of India. The India which was imagined by our
founders where people of all religion and caste would live with equal rights
and dignity. Through its bans, or through its name-calling, through its
attempts at homogenising India, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BJP has
been constantly hammering this idea, with the intention that over a period of
time, it would have weakened the structure so much that it would crumble on its
own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To its credit, it has been able to
shift the debates away from poverty, and the shoddy role of Sangh in distorting
the truth and instigating riots; to one where we are debating how many days of
ban should there be on meat. Irony is that organizations terming themselves as
nationalist are the ones who have not been celebrating the Independence Day of
the country for over 60 years, and had no role in the freedom struggle!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Note:</b> <i>This post was written for Youth Ki Awaaz's advertisement related to editorial opening, which required a fresh unpublished piece to be submitted. Since I haven't heard back from them, I decided to publish it on my personal blog</i></div>
</div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-90783241183550611362013-07-22T13:26:00.000-07:002013-07-22T13:26:54.884-07:00Marital Rape in Bhaag Milkha Bhaag: Why We Need To Talk About It?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I watched <b>Bhaag Milkha Bhaag</b> after more than a week of its release. While the movie was gripping (though long, with some scenes and song sequences that could have been easily done away with), what has been surprising for me is that even though, for a very brief moment, the movie shows about marital rape (though all behind the curtains), in this one week, I haven't come across a single article/opinion piece in any of the media houses/blogs that used this opportunity to talk about the issue that people still don't want to even acknowledge - Marital Rape.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6FpKLHQ44WX_laOemDOpyRR41CG401G0QItHQlSrKA8tMbtY3mkQyjzhDbA5xDQp1dLulK9_VBskvPhG31A5qXrybWfiXcW1jrvBMVU7fX13Q6GEsbFOMtO78iK71MeVpOlqhhAyWMM/s1600/155165Bhaag+Milkha+Bhaag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6FpKLHQ44WX_laOemDOpyRR41CG401G0QItHQlSrKA8tMbtY3mkQyjzhDbA5xDQp1dLulK9_VBskvPhG31A5qXrybWfiXcW1jrvBMVU7fX13Q6GEsbFOMtO78iK71MeVpOlqhhAyWMM/s320/155165Bhaag+Milkha+Bhaag.jpg" width="320" /></a>The movie of course is about the life story of Milkha Singh, so the scene in itself is of a few minutes. For the brief moment where it touches upon the issue, a young Milkha Singh is shown to have finally been united with his sister, and now stays in their tent in the refugee camp. Her sister (played by Divya Dutta) is called upon by her husband at night, who has drawn makeshift curtains at his end. As she goes there, she is she is first slapped by him for not coming on his first call, and then, what follows are a series of sounds - of the husband panting and reaching orgasm as the wife's cries are heard. The noises wakes up the young Milkha, who is feeling angry even as 2 other teenaged boys sleeping there look at the drawn curtain and chuckle. Divya Dutta finally comes out of the tent and splashes water on her face continuously to ease here trauma, and then hugs Milkha (who had come out, unable to bear it all) and cries.<br />
<br />
Of course, neither domestic abuse nor marital rape were elaborated, but the scenes were pretty clear about what they conveyed. Yet, in a country that was left outraged by rape just around 6 months back, not a single article is carried by any media house on what could have been a good starting point to talk about the "untalkable". Or is it that as always, when faced with the most uncomfortable truth, we would rather not talk about it and turn our face? For if we don't talk about it, it means that it doesn't exist!! Or is it that marital rape brings the whole issue too closer to us, and we might have to face ourselves in the mirror, for rape is something that the "other" commits, how can a married person "rape" his wife? Or is it that our outrage is only for certain kinds of rape? Probably rape of a working woman in an urban area, or of a child, but other kinds of rapes- of dalit women, of poor women in urban areas, of the maid working at the home, of women by the Army personnel under the protection of the AFSPA are not much of a rape and has its own justification or cause?<br />
<br />
Strangely though, the Justice Verma Committe formed to look into the malaise of rape and gender violence that has set in the Indian society, also recommended criminalising marital rape, and cited various narratives and instances of the same. Yet, the government very conveniently shelved it. Why just the government, much of the discussions and articles surrounding the recommendations in the media concerned more about gender neutrality of the law and the age of consent of sex, totally ignoring the other important issue of marital rape. But then, would it have passed the parliament is itself a question, given how leaders of political parties proudly talked about how women cannot be wooed without stalking and displayed their full misogynist side during the debate on the rape law (irony, isn't it?).<br />
<br />
Yet, the reason why the movie should have been used by activists and feminists as a starting point to talk about this important issue with the wider public is that for many, that scene hardly signified marital rape (for the possibility of such a thing itself is non-existent because marriage in itself is a stamp for having sex with wife, consensual or otherwise), or at best, marital rape in a bygone era. As it is, the moment you talk about marital rape, men start playing the victim and you get to hear all kind of weird and hysterical responses - from how it would be misused, to how a wife is supposed to satisfy the husband, otherwise where will the poor husband go if not to a prostitute or have an extra-marital affair!! And yet, another person on by Facebook list easily dismissed the whole scene and issue as "<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]">the incident was circa 1947.. I guess at that time, in a marriage, it was always deemed consensual?" followed by, "</span></span></span><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479898}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][1]"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479898}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479898}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479898}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]">On a lighter note, how did you make out that it was one? There was a makeshift screen."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]">And that is why we need to talk about the scene, and point it out, for far too many people may have just failed to read the whole scene correctly, and worse still, as always, assumed there is no such thing as marital rape and any kind of sex- forced or consensual- within marriage is OK. And when you do come across it, you just chuckle (like those boys) or better still, pretend that you didnt hear/see anything. </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[t4oe].[1][4][1]{comment605507522814560_6479881}.[0].[right].[0].[left].[0].[0].[0][2].[0].[0]"><b>Bhaag Milkha Bhaag</b> should have been used as an opportunity to talk about marital rape, given that we are still trying to figure out why rape incidences are going up in the country, and banning and blaming anything - from porn movies to internet to clothes to item songs. But, in all this, we fail to blame ourselves, for the truth is too close to home than we would like to acknowledge!!</span></span></span></div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-51932582248038493132013-02-10T12:00:00.003-08:002013-02-10T12:16:52.823-08:00The case of "Public" in RE-Public of India<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMG6CuzPEhGAyuxENVBHUm9wzepUMG4XmF3N3vAtfj200hZDNuxuERLYnjKt3C2Av_J56HPYkt3T2WFl-DreYJkObYGESaBsjSc-RTj220DNOucOpliNQoJOGf98IMH3IJ_pZF74ZueQ/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMG6CuzPEhGAyuxENVBHUm9wzepUMG4XmF3N3vAtfj200hZDNuxuERLYnjKt3C2Av_J56HPYkt3T2WFl-DreYJkObYGESaBsjSc-RTj220DNOucOpliNQoJOGf98IMH3IJ_pZF74ZueQ/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
"Public morality", "public decency (or indecency)", "public sentiments", "public trial", public this and public that... and add to that list one more now, "public conscience" (aka<i> collective conscience of society</i>)... Sorry to say, but the "public" of this country has started to disgust me now.<br />
<br />
Till now, probably such "public terms" were used by the police, politicians and right-wing groups to harass people and extort money. So, you could be sitting in a park, talking to a girl (need not be your girl-friend) and you would have gone against the "public morality". You could be a girl who could have gone to a discotheque and you would have been branded immoral by the "public". You could be walking on a road holding hands with your partner, or just having an<a href="http://www.daijiworld.com/news/news_disp.asp?n_id=162422" target="_blank"> ice cream in an ice cream parlou</a>r, and you could be booked for "indecency in public". You could be a painter who could have painted a few nude paintings, and so the "public sentiments" could be hurt, or you could be a film maker, whose movie theme could "hurt the sentiments of a section of the public". And let me not get started on the "public trials" that are held during the News-Hour discussions of this country every day. And as I write this, I just receive the news that another (gay) party was raided by police and people booked for dancing "indecently".<br />
<br />
But, when the courts start meting out justice on the basis of the conscience of the "public", things take a new low. I woke up on Sat morning to the news of the hanging of Afzal Guru, which was conducted in total secrecy in the wee-hours. The whole state of J&K was put under curfew, many modes of communication shut down. And much of the "public" in other parts rejoicing. But something seemed shoddy to me, the whole manner in which the hanging was conducted. What did the Govt fear? Keeping my reservations about death penalty aside, I would have considered it as justice being done finally. But when I read the basis of judgement, I was shocked. And as the rhetoric now dies down, and facts start to emerge , the shoddy manner in which the trial was conducted, and the gaping holes and questions left unanswered surely point to other directions.<br />
<br />
In this piece <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/a-perfect-day-for-democracy/article4397705.ece" target="_blank">A Perfect Day for Democracy</a>, Arundhati Roy puts across some of the facts,<i> "At the most crucial stage of a criminal case, when evidence is
presented, when witnesses are cross-examined, when the foundations of
the argument are laid — in the High Court and the Supreme Court you can
only argue points of law, you cannot introduce new evidence — Afzal
Guru, locked in a high security solitary cell, had no lawyer. The
court-appointed junior lawyer did not visit his client even once in
jail, he did not summon any witnesses in Afzal’s defence and did not
cross examine the prosecution witnesses."</i> Which can only mean one thing. This <a href="http://www.indiaresists.com/afzal-guru-wifes-letter-an-appeal-that-remained-unheard/" target="_blank">letter </a>written by her wife that has emerged now also puts across the lawyer situation that he faced in his trial (and the other background things that people ight not know, or would not like to look at)<br />
<br />
But what shocked me was when a friend, celebrated the hooliganisms of the hooligan group named Bajrang Dal and VHP at Delhi Jantar Mantar, where they attacked people (mainly from J&K) who had come to protest against this shoddy judgment and hanging. How easily can rabble rousing on the name of Nationalism cloud your judgement. So, where these people and students not Indian citizens now? Don't they have a right to protest against what they consider is wrong? Do I have to agree with everything the Govt does? So if I am in Gujarat, do I have to agree with Modi on everything, and not have a right to protest against him? That friend pointed to me that Guru had himself confessed his role in a TV interview. But since when did TV interviews become the mode of deciding the truth? In all likelihood, Afzal Guru would have been tortured, threatened, and given a script that he had to enact. Haven't we all seen such concocted police evidences, "confessions under duress" and framing of innocents?<br />
<br />
And as Omar Abdullah asked, <span id="advenueINTEXT" name="advenueINTEXT">"There are others on death
who are also implicated in attacks on democracy. If chief minister of a
state not a symbol of democracy? Is a former Prime Minister not a
symbol of democracy? Of course, he is." But no, the swollen chests and egos of the so called "nationalists" and "patriots" can only be satisfied by the blood of another person. It doesn't matter if the person was innocent or not. Someone had to die to fix the situation and send out a message. It doesn't matter that an entire State has since been placed under curfew and most basic communication modes shut down for them. It doesn't matter whether as a society, death penalty in itself should be there on our law books or not. The death penalty does nothing but make martyrs of people in such situations. Afzal Guru may or may not be involved in the Parliament attack (directly or indirectly), but he will now surely been turned into a martyr by the extremist forces who would exploit the situation well. The sense of injustice would only mean that people who would have otherwise not listened to such rabble rousing in the valley would now be tilted towards them. But no, after all, the "public conscience" is satisfied. Strangely enough, this "conscience of the public" lacks when poor people are made homeless by builders, corporators or others. No, i don't want to be a part of this "public".</span><br />
<span id="advenueINTEXT" name="advenueINTEXT"><br /></span>
<span id="advenueINTEXT" name="advenueINTEXT">To end this, I will just paste this poem that someone named Sameer Bhat penned and captures the pain and anger of the people from the valley:</span><br />
<span id="advenueINTEXT" name="advenueINTEXT"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="uiHeaderTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<i><b>Why is moral conscience so thin?</b></i></div>
<div class="uiHeaderTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<i><b>T</b>here are nights</i><br />
<i>when collective conscience howls</i><br />
<i>like old miseries</i><br />
<i>deep inside democratic dungeons</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The executioner wipes his hand</i><br />
<i>and neatly folds a black hood</i><br />
<i>He has stopped breathing</i><br />
<i>The public can exult</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Guests descend upon studios</i><br />
<i>in big cars and winter shawls</i><br />
<i>No registered mail arrives</i><br />
<i>in desolate apple orchards</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>We are a secret society now</i><br />
<i>where death, too, is classified</i><br />
<i>There are no graves</i><br />
<i>Memory, too, is hanged</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Does life become extinct</i><br />
<i>when the soul has exited?</i><br />
<i>Someone ask the grand minister</i><br />
<i>why is moral conscience so thin?</i><br />
<br /></div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-75066829156145401582012-10-03T13:00:00.001-07:002012-10-03T13:00:56.223-07:00When God is taken to Court: A review of OMG!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LbEt_nYjp8RhcGLpCZPhqy6prbtODKRyObI-wmgKiXRMG9Qh65g3WQx9b_jBGq3mFBfpPgV0rQJ2uFzPtswuqZjT2_2ekAx0fIAKJAKVbCGRlAhBruu6DATHqIqDRI1_w77TWbUUbCA/s1600/53253669.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LbEt_nYjp8RhcGLpCZPhqy6prbtODKRyObI-wmgKiXRMG9Qh65g3WQx9b_jBGq3mFBfpPgV0rQJ2uFzPtswuqZjT2_2ekAx0fIAKJAKVbCGRlAhBruu6DATHqIqDRI1_w77TWbUUbCA/s1600/53253669.jpg" /></a><br />
Just came back after watching the movie <i>Oh My God!</i> and it is after a really long time(seems like eternity) that I am getting down to writing about a movie.<br />
Well, I went to watch OMG expecting it to be a laugh riot, for a movie with Paresh Rawal will never disappoint you on that front. And OMG! did not disappoint me either. May be not something that I will term a laugh riot like Hera Pheri (Paresh and Akshay combo) but a movie that has definitely left me smiling long after I left the hall and even when I laughed, there was a message within. Of course, it is based on a play and so all credit must go to the original writer, but then, no one can take back the credit from Paresh Rawal, who has carried it on his own shoulders and delivered another good performance.<br />
<br />
I was disappointed with the first half of the movie, which I won't call as slow, but wasn't exactly what I was expecting it to be- it was neither a laugh riot, nor had any punch apart from a few lines that made you laugh (at times forcefully, because I had paid the money and I wanted to get the satisfaction of having laughed..LOL). The first half was basically what can be described as the story of a man who doesn't believe in God (but makes excellent profits selling idols of God) but has *only* his shop destroyed in a mild earthquake after he mocks a Godman; and doesn't get his insurance because the earthquake gets classified under "Acts of God" clause of the policy.<br />
<br />
It is the second half where the movie picks up once he decides to file a case in court and makes all the GodMen a party to it and his case is accepted. From there, the movie is a reflection of today's society, on how the nexus between politicians and such Godmen runs, how, people are targeted because someone finds the act of questioning God (or rather his Godmen) as blasphemous. People of all religion who had their insurance claim rejected citing this "Act of God" clause throng to him, many of them afraid that members of their own "religious community" will turn against them if they do it themselves. The movie also depicts the role of media and the sensitization it can lead to in a small way, and how it can change public opinions. In one such TV interview, Paresh Rawal is asked, "What does he think religion makes of people?" After some thought, he replies,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Religion either makes you helpless or a terrorist. <i>(Dharam insaan ko ya toh bebas banata hai, ya terrorist</i>)"</blockquote>
<br />
The court proceedings are a treat to watch, where the deft Paresh puts forth his arguments, questions the various illogical practices going on in the name of God, whether it is the shaving of your head at Tirupati or pouring of milk on a <i>Shiva Linga </i>or lighting of candles in a Church or <i>"chadar chadayi"</i> in a daragah; nothing escapes his scrutiny. Then again he uses the same Holy Books that his opponents were citing to shut them up, signifying how Holy Books are mostly twisted by people with their own agenda to mislead people.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
But the movie doesn't stop at this, it further goes on to show how the whole business of religion and religious people thrives on apotheosis. As Akshay Kumar(playing God in the movie) says, "Logon se inka Dharam mat cheeno, nahi to yeh tumhe apna dharam bana denge" (Don't snatch religion from these people, else they will make you as their religion). </blockquote>
<br />
The movie has some excellent dialogues like "Mazhaam insaan ke liye bante hai, insaan mazhaab ke liye nahi" and "These (religious) people are God-fearing people, not God loving people, today or tomorrow they will get back to these (illogical) practices". The movie releases at a time when every second day the world is reeling under protests and riots over religious issues, where these so called GodMen/Religious leaders feed on this fear of people and make this world an uninhabitable world of intolerant people. Whether you are an atheist, or a god loving or god fearing person, a religious bigot or a liberal man, this movie will surely lead you to think that if God really exists, will such a mad rush and mindless rituals please Him?<br />
<br />
As for the acting and all, Paresh Rawal carries it all on his shoulders, and no where do you feel the need of any other actor. Akshay may have been roped in for the "star" factor but his role is minimal and anyone could have played it. Keeping with the bollywood formula, there was on Govinda song with PrabhuDeva dancing in it, which could have been easily done away with. Also, another piece of advice for Bollywood would be not to attempt to reproduce Hollywood stunts. The entry of Akshay Kumar is a direct rip off from Dark Knight movie and those "stunt" scenes look like a scene from some video game (yes, it is that bad). His bike is styled on Batman's bike and these are the only sore things in the movie which happen in the first half. The second half thankfully remains away from these bollywood formulas and thus sails through.<br />
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The best part though happened after the movie finished and I came out of the hall. A group of young (and hot) men could be heard talking and wondering why do they actually shave off their head once in a year and is it of any good. May be they will go back to the old ritual of <i>mundan</i>, but it atleast got them thinking. <br />
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P.S. - In my college, there was a case going on in the court between the administration and local people over land, and God (Lord Rama) was actually made a party to it, so such a thing has happened in reality already!</div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-1619685258098800122012-10-02T03:42:00.000-07:002012-10-02T03:52:10.679-07:00The Anonymous Me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml2o7cuwrNgyndY7C78MPKgjTi2PGlvYSyMQiAKMCJyYB3AkKZ9ZVnYemMzFdvrWrW43X02iDfNCPHMfff41Gjo6rx6ZJIAPqSYxe0MpUZ2UE_7ikRHg5zR7jl-C17c3QSsb_hxw0z-I/s1600/broken+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml2o7cuwrNgyndY7C78MPKgjTi2PGlvYSyMQiAKMCJyYB3AkKZ9ZVnYemMzFdvrWrW43X02iDfNCPHMfff41Gjo6rx6ZJIAPqSYxe0MpUZ2UE_7ikRHg5zR7jl-C17c3QSsb_hxw0z-I/s1600/broken+heart.jpg" /></a></div>
As I deal with my first break-up.. every 2nd day going into the mode of "I should give him more time, it couldn't have been over" I stumbled upon this note I had written for someone I had a big crush on for over a year. The guy worked in my office, and, after almost a year of secretly admiring him, it seemed that he was finally showing some interest, pro-longing the chat on his own when I would run out of things to talk.</div>
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I was so madly in love(? may be) that right from New Year, I had started planning of what I will give to him on Valentine's day. Of course, I had never directly told him my emotions, but I saw hints, and thought V-day was the perfect day to propose. New Year came, I thought he will at least send an sms wishing me the same.. it never happened.. I was so confused with his mixed signals, I decided to end it all in my mind and move on. And I am glad that I did, for a few months back.. he got married. As luck would have it, I instead celebrated V-day with my current boyfriend (or should I call him my Ex? Nah, I still think we have a chance and I should approach him once more) whom I met just when I was trying to move myself away from this office crush/love.</div>
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Anyways, as is my habit of not destroying things/memories, I had kept this note saved in my laptop. I had written the note in one of the moments of extreme romanticism, when I was thinking of how to propose him on V-day. Read the note.. may be you will get to see the dilemma that I was in, the emotions that I had. </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<i>Someone who admires you just thought that a handsome man
like you should receive beautiful flowers on this special day to make it more
special for you, and bring a smile on your face. That someone doesn’t know
whether this is the right thing to do, or whether you already got many red
roses, whether you will be able to guess or have an inkling of who that someone
might be. That someone has never given a rose to anyone earlier on valentines
(or otherwise also) but thought this is the perfect time to do. That someone
couldn’t have a heart break today (in case that someone read it all wrong all
these days) and so remains anonymous, because at times ignorance is bliss, and
this ignorance might atleast save me from having an upset mood today (if there
is a chance of that).</i></div>
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<i>I know anonymous posts/messages suck, but that Someone just
hopes that you won’t mind the flowers today, and keep it thinking that someone
likes you enough to have sent you flowers today. That you are the subject of
someone’s blogs, someone’s thoughts revolve around you all the time; that
someone could just go on writing about it on and on… That someone would be
waiting to see whether you could guess who it is..</i></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-64244814405187194932012-08-18T13:04:00.001-07:002012-08-18T13:04:37.188-07:00N-E Exodus : Connecting the dots<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.thehindu.com/multimedia/dynamic/01180/17_isbs_In_Bangalo_1180452e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.thehindu.com/multimedia/dynamic/01180/17_isbs_In_Bangalo_1180452e.jpg" /></a></div>
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It was like any other holiday for me. 15th August meant a day off from office, getting up late, and then going for the flower show at Lalbagh, and later meet up with friends. I was excited about the day because I was getting another temporary tattoo for the day, and was to wear the new T-shirt I had bought from Kolkata. Of course, I had no idea in the morning as to what ironies the day would hold.<br />
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By the time I returned back home, it was 11pm already, and when I logged into my Facebook account, I saw a post by a friend about people from North East fleeing Bangalore because of the Assam Riots. It seemed weird to me at first thought why would people in Bangalore feel any effect of Assam riots? Then I saw another post by another friend about the same. I visited the website of a few national dailies and didn't find any news related to it, and thus dismissed it as something minor may be. But when I woke up the next day, the news seemed to be everywhere. What seemed strange and ridiculous was that the reason behind the exodus was messages doing the rounds that NE people will be attacked by Muslims because of the riots that happened in Assam. Even before I could gather what exactly was happening through the news sites, there were facebook photos and posts by some right-wing Hindu groups and other fundamentalist groups that were being shared that talked about how NE people were being threatened by muslims. One such misguided (and hate spewing) page Bhagat Singh Kranti Sena uploaded a photo saying a "fatwa had been issued against NE people" (the picture seems to have been removed now, after the same was reported in a newspaper<a href="http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/bangalore/article3781473.ece" target="_blank"> article</a> by THE HINDU). What was more astonishing to me was that even while the administration seems to have been taken by surprise at the exodus, RSS cadres were quickly deployed to "assure the people of their safety" in the Bangalore station. And as the "news" (or rumour) spread throughout the day, the message that was being clearly passed was that "people from the NE are being threatened by muslims, who will avenge the death of Bangladeshi immigrant muslims in ethnic clashes in Assam.<br />
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Probably what made the NE people believe these rumours were that a few days earlier, there was violence during a protest called out against the Assam and Myanmar "riots". Initial investigations have revealed that the violence was <a href="http://www.rediff.com/news/report/mumbai-violence-may-have-been-pre-planned-says-police/20120813.htm" target="_blank">pre-planned</a>. Nevertheless, it gave the right-wing parties another opportunity to mis-guide people, by posting pictures from the protest, and passing off islamic flags there as Pakistani flag and further spreading hatred against the community. <br />
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What seems strange is the way events have unfolded. The timing of these disturbances seems crucial to me. Parties have already started preparing themselves for the coming general elections. That such rumours should have spread before Eid, with a clear intent of passing the message that Muslims are out to harm NE people (and thus trying to create an overall environment of hatred against the community and increase communal tension). Also strange is the fact that the exodus should happen from Bangalore and Pune. While Bangalore is BJP ruled, Pune and Mumbai are strongholds of Shiv Sena and RSS. Add to that how RSS seems to be prepared for helping those fleeing the city. A communal environment and disruption of harmony would only help in polarising the votes in the upcoming elections and by playing on the Hindu card, may be try and swing the "majority hindu votes". The govt has just come up with the report that most of the doctored pictures of Burmese Muslim killings originated from Pakistan, but that was already <a href="http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/12867/social-media-is-lying-to-you-about-burmas-muslim-cleansing/" target="_blank">known</a>. But the question remains, how did the SMS start circulating in the first place? How did the rumour mill start working? Who started "warning" (rather spreading the rumors about) the NE people against attacks by muslims? Isnt there a sinister political motive behind this whole development? Above all, how come only South India?<br />
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Amongst all this confusion, fear and panic had set in the people from North East, mostly students and workers. No attack was reported thankfully.. none happened in real. Both the state and central govt acted responsibly and tried confidence building steps. While the exodus seems to have eased a bit from banaglore, the panic that spread to Chennai and Hyderabad is yet to subside. AMidst all this, we can all pledge not to share things/information on these social networking sites without authenticating them.</div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-72204815422128101532012-02-04T12:10:00.000-08:002012-02-04T12:17:54.561-08:00BASANT - The Big Fat ISM Wedding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ismaa.in/ism_image/75%20years%20Celebrations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.ismaa.in/ism_image/75%20years%20Celebrations.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ISM-Dhanbad during Basant</td></tr>
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“You know about Basant? The whole college is decked up like
a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dulhan</i> to welcome the alumni.”
These were the first words I heard about Basant when I had entered ISM as a
fresher when there was a sordid attempt to woo the only “Bengali Sardar” to
their side during the hay days of POLY. The stakes were high, for I had two
parallel identities that no side wanted to give up on. But let me get back on
the analogy of Basant and Dulhan (or rather Marriage) that the senior drew.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/181538_151151264942396_100001425700024_298198_2955631_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/181538_151151264942396_100001425700024_298198_2955631_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Decked up ISM</td></tr>
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Yes, Basant is the Big Fat Indian Wedding of ISM, replete
with all dance, drama, get-together, bonhomie and of course, food. Like any
“shaadi-byaah”, decoration of the college is of prime importance. Every nook
and corner of the campus (only the main site, not the jharia one) will be
covered with lights. Each new building that comes up in the area around the
main building provides a new opportunity for the decorators. Yes, the “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baraatis</i>” need to feel welcomed, and
spending lakhs on decorations at least gives you the impression that something
important is happening in the campus and someone cared to launder all this
money for you. After all, who likes a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">dulhan</i>
on her wedding day without the make-up and jewelry she adorns? Only in this
case, this marriage happens every year.</div>
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An Indian marriage is more about the congregation of people
(known or unknown) than the actual marriage itself, and Basant holds true to
this fact. You have alumni pouring in. For many it is that one family occasion
where you meet all your old friends, try to recognize others as some distant
relative (read some junior or senior) and form your own small group to move
around with. An exact replica of an Indian wedding, where your near and distant
relatives meet after a long time, and their kids probably for the first time;
and soon enough, groups are formed based on various interests. While the alumni
are the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baaratis, </i>current ISM
students and organizers form the bride’s side and family. It is upon the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ladkiwaale</i> to make sure the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baraatis</i> are well entertained. But like
most weddings, expect some or the other hiccup that only the closed ones (read
organizers) of the family would know.</div>
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If in an actual Indian wedding the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">saalis </i>steal shoes and demand the money from the groom, the ritual
gets slightly changed in case of ISM. Money does switch hands, but in exchange for
roses and not shoes. So, a Rs 5 rose gets sold for anywhere between Rs 100 – Rs
500 and there is little that the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baraati </i>alumni
can do. But it is just not the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baraatis</i>
paying, boys from the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ladkiwale</i> side
don’t hesitate either. The roses also play an important role in getting the
story of the heart across to a girl, another important aspect of Indian
marriages, where many future nuptials also take shape.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.axom.in/wp-content/uploads/mvbthumbs/img_566_zubeen-garg-woh-bheege-pal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://www.axom.in/wp-content/uploads/mvbthumbs/img_566_zubeen-garg-woh-bheege-pal.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Performance during Basant</td></tr>
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Like a Bollywood movie shaadi, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">naach-gaana </i>forms an integral part of this ISM wedding. So, you
will have a singer or a performer called in to entertain everyone that some
will go gaga over, while others will find problems with and rue how they could
have done a better job had they been “in power”. In the end, no wedding is
well-organised and a memorable one unless you have a big feast to gorge upon.
Food can make or break an Indian wedding, and people judge a good wedding based
on it. After all, many do come in for free and good food. It is that day when
no one in the student community has to “contribute” in any form upfront, and so even the most <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">matiyao </i>of ISMite would turn up during
dinner time. </div>
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With the hum-drum over, everyone heads to their own previous
state of inertia. Notes are made about the mistakes not to be repeated for the
next wedding, on how the caterer and decorator went back on their words. Some
praise for having organized a well-planned wedding to some criticism of the
goof-ups. Everything is soon forgotten and flushed down the toilet along with
the food eaten the last night. As for the bride, who cares about her state as
long as the wedding was a show of pomp and everyone had their own share of pie
to eat.<br />
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<i>This post was written for Mailer Daemon, the college newsletter of ISM and published in MD's Vol VIII, Issue 3. </i></div>
</div>Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-2011247438262164302011-12-31T12:46:00.000-08:002012-01-02T09:22:45.147-08:002011: A Flashback<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It is that time of the year when you look back at all the sweet and bitter memories of the year. Thankfully, 2011 has more sweet memories than the bitter ones. 2009 was the worst one I suppose. The year began with the sad news of my father meeting with an accident. It was a year of lot of money spending, sadness etc. 2010 was a hectic year. I rang in the new year probably working on the magazine. It was followed by starting my first job, trying to adjust to a working life and running the magazine alongside. I moved to two new cities in the same year. It was also a year of romance and heart breaks for me.<br />
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2011 in comparison has been a great one. It began on a very interesting note. The first call I received was a wrong number. I didn't wait to hear who was on the other side. Just picked up and wished a very warm and friendly new year. It was only after the greetings were exchanged that both of us realised we were talking to the wrong person. Throughout the year, I kept receiving wrong numbers in that number of mine. Almost no one has my second number, and the calls that I received in that number were almost always wrong ones. Thankfully, 2012 has begun with a call from an old friend. So this year should be free from wrong numbers and getting back in touch with old friends :)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcpHPLfeR9Ce8PDY6s8ieDBZtTHv3gDj01XZLeBsl0CT-Wgi9YUs6-DoUtDDU27OaYBIebsazgPfcxAix-ADfzfN3M-jGWwEEzKroGb0HtRWp8VUtonSvpgfMylw-xOlMfPQPnoD6phY/s1600/166285_177491332282850_100000659544310_441624_2880340_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcpHPLfeR9Ce8PDY6s8ieDBZtTHv3gDj01XZLeBsl0CT-Wgi9YUs6-DoUtDDU27OaYBIebsazgPfcxAix-ADfzfN3M-jGWwEEzKroGb0HtRWp8VUtonSvpgfMylw-xOlMfPQPnoD6phY/s320/166285_177491332282850_100000659544310_441624_2880340_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hogennakal Falls</td></tr>
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The 1st day of the year was a trip to Hogennakal waterfalls. It was a fun trip with friends. And the whole year has been a fun one:) The month of February saw me releasing my first ever code, to the most prominent of customers of my company. After re-writing it for some 4-5 times, and a last minute bug, it was successfully accepted by the customer. In february I also received my B.Tech degree in the convocation and from a trainee, became a Software Engg. Feb was the month in which I got the first ever ad for Gaylaxy.<br />
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Nothing much significant in Mar-Apr, May saw me getting another ad for <a href="http://www.gaylaxymag.com/" target="_blank">Gaylaxy</a> and also, visiting Mumbai for the first time ever. With the May-June issue of <a href="http://www.gaylaxymag.com/" target="_blank">Gaylaxy</a> been just released, a bored me wrote down a satirical and fake news post, which became viral enough and soon <a href="http://www.news-maid.com/" target="_blank">News Maid</a> was born.<br />
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July was my first participation in any pride event in Kolkata, and I could sell a decent number of Gaylaxy CDs. July also saw another addition to the number of advertisers with Gaylaxy. <a href="http://www.news-maid.com/" target="_blank">News Maid</a> as a separate site was also launched in this month. The news of <a href="http://news-maid.com/index.php/2011/06/28/ism-signs-poonam-pandey-for-building-brand-ism/" target="_blank">Poonam Pandey</a> and<a href="http://news-maid.com/index.php/2011/07/07/nit-durgapur-protest-against-new-director-from-ism-threaten-indefinite-strike/" target="_blank"> T. Kumar</a> went viral enough. Then there was also<a href="http://news-maid.com/index.php/2011/07/01/baba-ramdev-accepts-homosexuality-withdraws-petition/" target="_blank"> Baba Ramdev Accepting Homosexuality</a>.<br />
<br />
The month of August was me getting into a new project at office. September was the month of heartbreak again. I was so close, yet so far; and with a heavy heart, I decided to end my misery. I couldn't suffer for a guy who refuses to face his own emotions/fears. It took me around a month to get over it. And the trip to my home during Diwali helped :)<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WRYP3FbLRNSMaJ_j4ASXPcmLgVCFFL7OmAlInsSzzD2va2Jswos8OEbB36vvNxYdqdsuYz3x-2Z2sKnNdBrZYMCXH7ghLJoATv9n9OcNF0J5xsVNdEz1Wlt3WY02c9eG332KLVC5L0E/s1600/2011-11-27_15-48-42_585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6WRYP3FbLRNSMaJ_j4ASXPcmLgVCFFL7OmAlInsSzzD2va2Jswos8OEbB36vvNxYdqdsuYz3x-2Z2sKnNdBrZYMCXH7ghLJoATv9n9OcNF0J5xsVNdEz1Wlt3WY02c9eG332KLVC5L0E/s320/2011-11-27_15-48-42_585.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me wearing the Gaylaxy T-shirt in Bengaluru Pride</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
November began with me buying my first ever smartphone. The end of Nov was exciting because of the pride celebrations. Gayalxy T-shirts were all sold out in the pride fair, and the march this year was so much more awesome and fun. Got to meet so many new people and made some good and awesome friends. It ended with me winning an iPod at office. And yes, I got the first ever tattoo, though temporary.<br />
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December was a fun one. A trip to Karwar with office colleagues was one of the best ones. A lot of water activities, fun and good memories. I also made some headway with my crush, though I am still confused as to what is in his mind. I just hope, he is more forth coming and direct than he currently is so that the confusion clears up. It was followed by the xmas eve party, which was fun and enjoyment again. Last working day at office was full of fun and masti again, with a lot of impropmtu fun activities and cake cutting. Also, I get inked permanently a few days before the year ends \m/
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyp2x2bHTUcFIScp-3VXke3blYHGBFN2RtbJIUu3gToeVjLVVZ4k6fCxZYv_hT4L8ZZtBNgzGJpJleNEMzkXRCFGjaTuordtcJIJDiA0x8KC6MbPEdcrkVkE71aJwMSwK2GukCorTwaxo/s1600/2011-12-10_17-43-34_23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyp2x2bHTUcFIScp-3VXke3blYHGBFN2RtbJIUu3gToeVjLVVZ4k6fCxZYv_hT4L8ZZtBNgzGJpJleNEMzkXRCFGjaTuordtcJIJDiA0x8KC6MbPEdcrkVkE71aJwMSwK2GukCorTwaxo/s320/2011-12-10_17-43-34_23.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having fun at Karwar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I also joined the book club this year, and thanks to it, finished two books at least :)<br />
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2012 has begun with me writing down a blog post. So probably this year would see me writing a lot, and also, I would be updating my blog more frequently (hopefully). I hope to make some headway in my love life too.
Here's wishing everyone a very happy new year 2012 :)</div>Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-44816609983980437302011-11-04T14:26:00.000-07:002011-11-05T03:53:38.592-07:00Telecom's journey over the years<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.iloveindia.com/indian-heroes/pics/dhirubhai-ambani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
After 2 months of looking up the internet, getting confused in the ocean of android phones, deciding on Motorola Defy and then nearly going for Motorola Fire XT, I finally bought Motoroloa Defy on 3rd Nov from LetsBuy.com for Rs 13.8k . Thanks to their new 24hrs delivery service, I got my phone the very next day(friday) when infact I was expecting it on Monday. And as I now discover the joys of a touch phone, with Cortex A8 processor, I couldn't help but think how the phones have evolved drastically over the last 20 years, and so have my financial situation.<br />
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I was born in '88 in Calcutta and in these 20 years of my existence, our family has moved to 4 different rented houses. As far as I can remember, in the late 80s, a landline telephone connection was not for the common man or even the moderately rich. Television was the proud possession back then, and by the time I was 2 years old, my parents had bought a Black and White Television set (which after innumerable repairs, still works fine with excellent picture quality). Colour TV back then was what a 3D TV is today, possessed by only a few. By the time I was 3, we moved to a new house, and in a few years the cost of coloured TV had reduced and those with sufficient money could afford it. Landphones had also started moving into houses, but were still very few. I remember my mother going to post office, and buying some 20-30 inland letters at one go and writing letters to my Mausi (her elder sister) who is in England, my Mama's and others in Punjab. The letters would be delayed by days, weeks, or months. Then, she would read it out loud to us all, and sit down to write back a reply. Yes, postman was the much awaited person back then.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bharatonline.com/kerala/images/kerala-std-codes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.bharatonline.com/kerala/images/kerala-std-codes.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coin Operated PCO</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
By the time I was in Class 4, we had to move to another house. The landlord had a phone connection, and was kind enough to allow us to give his number to relatives in Punjab. On rare occasions there would be a call for us, and we would rush to the first floor room of theirs and sit next to it as my mother or elder sisters would talk on the phone. Probably the first time I had seen a phone this close. But I was still considered too small to dial any numbers or make any call. My Uncle who also lived in Calcutta did have a phone connection, but I rarely got to touch it. PCOs were emerging as a good business, and you could find one in or around your area, though PCOs with STD and ISD facility were rare, or far away. In the mean time, BSNL had reduced STD and ISD rates for ealry morning calls (calls before 6 am) and so, my mother would go once in a month (or two months) to call my Mausi, Mama and other relatives. The call pulse was 6 mins, and rates were still very high considered to present day call rates. <br />
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In another year or so, the pulse duration of the calls had been reduced to 3 mins, and so were the call rates. General goods stores started keeping coin operated phones, and you didn't have to travel so far to make a call. I must have been in class 5 or 6 when I first used a coin operated phone, to make an enquiry about the arrival time of trains coming from Punjab, in which my parents were travelling. Railway trains back then were (in)famously known for being running way behind schedule. Oh, the joy and pride of operating a phone... It was the time when PCOs were coming up in every street, just like we have mobile recharge shops in every nook and corner now.<br />
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By the time I was in Class 7, mobile phones had entered India. Only the rich possessed it. It was an indicator of your wealth, but even those who possessed it asked you not to call them on mobile, since incoming calls were also chargeable. We changed our house again, as the owner asked to vacate the house. In another year or two, the call rates for landphones had dropped. Landphones were no longer uncommon among households. Ours still didn't have one, though the frequent travel of my father to Punjab after the death of my grandfather and disputes over property meant we had to go to a nearby shop having a telephone connection at a pre-fixed time and wait for the call. We still couldn't afford paying the monthly rental. The hassles involved in getting a land connection when you are in a rented house and the fact that every 5 years we had to change the house didn't quite help either.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.iloveindia.com/indian-heroes/pics/dhirubhai-ambani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.iloveindia.com/indian-heroes/pics/dhirubhai-ambani.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dhirubhai Ambani</td></tr>
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Then in 2002, something happened. Someone died, and it was all over the news. Dhirubhai Ambani had died! I had never heard his name before that. But his death made him immortal, and also changed the way we communicate in India. His sons took over, and Reliance announced plans of giving mobile phones for as little as Rs 500! There was a mad rush to get a mobile phone. Call rates for mobiles had dropped a lot in the last 2 years and were giving serious competition to landlines. Reliance ushered in the mobile age in India. From the <i>rickshawallah</i> to the <i>sabziwallah</i>, everyone had a mobile now. 2 years later, my elder sister bought a mobile phone for the family. She was a teacher in a private school and saved money for the phone. There was no "lifetime" validity back then. Each month you had to recharge it with a minimum of 300, of which you would only get a balance of 150. We would wait for the phone to ring, and everytime it rang, all of us in
the family would rush to the mobile to pick it up. We would infact let
it ring once or twice before picking up, change its ringtones every
alternate day. Even unwanted pesky calls were welcomed by us. AFter every call that was made, my mother would write down the amount billed and amount left, and every paisa was accounted for. I couldn't send any SMS to my friends without her detecting it as the balance would not match to her calcluation. She still retains the habit, though me and my sisters don't care much now, after all, phone companies now send in the balance left and deducted instantaneously.<br />
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I got my first phone in the second year of college, because it was difficult for my parents to keep in touch with me otherwise as I was living in a hostel away from them. To be precise, I had my first phone, (Nokia 1100) in the 2nd semester of Engineering, when a senior was kind enough to give his extra mobile to me. 6 months later, my sister bought a new mobile and gave her mobile to me, and I returned that back. Since then, every time my sister would buy a new mobile, I would be handed over her mobile. And so I got to possess Nokia 1110c, Nokia 2310 and Nokia 3310. Motorola Defy thus is the first non-Nokia, first hand mobile of mine.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://teebuk.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/motorola_defy_group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://teebuk.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/motorola_defy_group.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Motorola Defy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next generation will probably never get to know all this, they might be even surprised to hear that mobile once had small screens, with keypads. I remember my mother telling us how 1paisa had so much value once, she even showed it to us once. She also told us that earlier, you needed a license to have a bicycle too (unimaginable, isnt it?)! Probabaly one day I will narrate similar tales to my nephews too.<br />
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6 years down the line, everyone in my family has a mobile, with me and my youngest sister having 2. Well, I now have 3 for that matter. Had someone asked me 5 years back that I will one day possess a mobile worth 14k I would have laughed at his face. But things have changed, the world has changed. A big thank you to Reliance also, for ushering in the mobile revolution, for even if I had not been an engineer today, I might not have held a Motorola Defy, I am sure I still would have had a mobile.<br />
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<br /></div>Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-36630465855322434622011-09-20T12:14:00.000-07:002011-09-20T12:14:34.590-07:00Tease<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You called me up, you came to me,</div>
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You made me lie next to you, you let me touch you,</div>
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You teased me, and promised me you will come again;</div>
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And now as I wait for you, I can't get over you,</div>
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For wherever I look, I can only see you.</div>
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<a href="http://cdn02.cdn.socialitelife.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/javierbardem-luomo-vogue-photos-12102008-07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://cdn02.cdn.socialitelife.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/javierbardem-luomo-vogue-photos-12102008-07.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-13707689987064914052011-09-19T13:52:00.000-07:002011-09-19T13:54:17.628-07:00Modi, Gujarat, and the larger question about Indian Democracy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.manjul.com/cartoons/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/MANJUL_240411pol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="http://www.manjul.com/cartoons/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/MANJUL_240411pol.jpg" width="530" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(image courtesy Manjul.com)</span></div>
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It has been a long time since I posted anything on my blog, some posts have been lying in the drafts unfinished, but nothing has provided me the impetus to note down my views on the blog. There was one topic, of Subramaniums post on Virat Hindus which I hope to write about in my blog, but the discussions on the topic stretced so much on Faebook itself, that I had lost all interest in taking it forward over the blog, and of course, the lazy me took the front seat and there wer other activities of <a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">Gaylaxy</a> that kept me busy.<br />
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But history repeats itself, and so, Narendra Modi's recent farcical FAST.. and then his refusal to wear a skull cap offered by a muslim, refusing to acknowledge any responsibility for Godhra, and misjudging a recent Supreme Court verdict as being giving him a clean chit, yet all the time, taking on the mask of being a minister for the minorities as well. Still, arresting riot victims who wanted to peacefully protest and yet terming his tamasha a Sadbhavana. But no, the impetus to write wasn't provided by any of this. It was rather provided by seeing people showering their "praises" on Modi for his act, because (and I would like to quote a few of the comments) "<i>At least the man stood up for what he believes in, instead of getting blackmailed in the name of secularism</i>; it is "a +ve sign for India's drama driven politics, where some leaders believe in doing work, than "showing off" how <b>minority friendly</b> they are" and "As for the turning down of the "skull cap", it shows<b> Modi ji</b> knows his ensemble better than his Imam friends. Emperor Nero sports a head wreath made of flowers." (really?? adressing him as JI???)<br />
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This lead me to share some views of mine, which I later realised could be put in a blog post too (because they were too big a comment, and because my blog hadn't been updated for a long time). Thankfully, I had the opportunity to read an excellent post in some magazine (Tehelka i suppose) where the author had also pointed out why a democracy, even though elected by a majority, needs to be for the minority or minority friendly.<br />
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So, here you go with my comment:<br />
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<blockquote>
<b>Comment 1:</b><i> <span style="font-size: small;">Never knew someone's faith in his religion could be so shallow/weak that just wearing a skull cap could change/break it... even jews wear a skull cap.. but wait.. could Hitler have ever done anything to be seen as being soft on jews????</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></blockquote>
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There were two objections raised to this, first, a person is entitled to following his faith, and second, comparison of a "democratically elected CM" to Hitler, and what would Rajiv Gandhi be called as. The two comments (which are the ones for which you had to go through all the above blabbering of mine) are:<br />
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<blockquote>
<i><b>Comment 2:</b> Faith in religion is a personal aspect.. but when u are elected in a democracy, where the <i>constitution specifically provides for protection of minority views and minorities</i>, and as i read in an article in some magazine, "A Democracy, even while being for the majority, should ensure not to crush the minority or its views" India is a mix of so many religions..and when an "elected" member goes to a mosque or some other institution.. it is only supposed to mean that even though you may be a minority.. ur interests and rights would not be curbed.. and that your interests will as much be a part of the govt. policies as of the majority that "elected" us.. Innumerable PMs and CMs have visited various states, religious institutions.. and donned their attire... no one probably had such a shallow faith to think that it could "change" them.. Indian Democracy is an "inclusive" democracy... Clealry Mr. Modi, even while offering his "sadbhavna" never wanted to give out such a message</i>
</blockquote>
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<blockquote>
<b>Comment 3:</b> <i>as for the question of a "democratically elected CM" being compared to a Hitler.. well.. Hitler may have overthrown the German govt at that time, but he surely enjoyed public support... and if he would have chosen to take the path of democracy.. I don't have an iota of doubt he would have been a "democratically elected representative" doing all the genocide.. And yeah.. had I been there at the time of Rajiv gandhi. I would have called him Hitler (or may be worse).. but then, the Cong govt came back to power.. and do u believe any single Sikh voted it to power? Or were his hands free of blood? But then Indian Democracy has its flaws.. and people get easily swayed by BIG inflated talks and claims.. especially religion.. so even when we can see that something really wrong is happening.. we can hardly do anything because it was the "majority" that elected it.. and that is where the role of a strong opposition comes into play.. because it is supposed to be representing the minority then.. sadly, in such cases/scenarios.. the opposition is often a weak one.. and hardly as the numbers to be effective</i>
</blockquote>
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And I can go on and on.. but it is really late, and it is really another long blog post. SO i will leave it here. Indian Constitution is based on the principle of protecting the rights of minorities even when listening to the majority. I know, it is really bad of me to just copy the comments to come up with a post, but most of the things are getting posted on Facebook these days :( :( and I had to break this dry spell. Do share your </div>
Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-72553988765049131592011-06-22T23:08:00.001-07:002011-06-22T23:08:20.351-07:00ISM gets its own Protest CentreEven as the Government of India shivers at the name of fasts and denies anti-corruption crusaders like Anna Hazare and Ramdev their fundamental right to fast at Jantar Mantar or Ramlila Ground, Asia’s oldest mining college Indian School of Mines Dhanbad has shown the way by agreeing to turn the space in front of its Main Building into a permanent Protest Centre and equip it with all necessary facilities.<br />
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<br />
As the whole ISM-IIT movement fades away, students have been mulling over the option of holding a fast unto IIT conversion to press for their demand and accuse the admin of dilly-dallying on the issue. “The ISM-IIT movement had reached its peak in 2010 and we were finally hoping that in a year or two, ISMites will have their dream of calling themselves IITians fulfilled. We had even received positive response from the CM, Governor and youth Icon and future PM Rahul Gandhi. But admin has been sitting on the files since then,” said a current final year student who is now leading the whole campaign and fears that with so many new IITs coming up, ISM may lose its charm and rather clubbed with the local entrance exam.<br />
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<br />
As news reached the admin that students could be holding a fast soon, an emergency meeting was called in by the Director, and in a unanimous and (rare) quick decision, it was decided to develop the spot in front of the Main Building adjacent to Admin Block into a world class Protest Centre. “This particular spot has a rich history and our distinguished alumni have held hunger strikes and protests here on various occasions. We have observed the inconvenience faced by them due to the heat and unavailability of water or eatables. We want to make the 4 years of college stay of our students a pleasurable one,” said Director T. Kumar after the meeting, “Given the importance that fasts hold today in getting a sluggish government body to action, we thought that students should get full opportunity of learning these methods in college itself since they will be the leaders tomorrow,” he added.<br />
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“The place will have a swimming pool so that students could cool off during summers. We have already asked RD to set up a chai-samosa shop, whereas Manis café would be requested to bring up a fast-food centre. The site will also have a proper media gallery for the protests to be well reported. We are also inviting tenders for a wi-fi connection in the area. ISM has no dearth of funds which are mostly sent back to the government. We finally get an opportunity to utilize them,” told the Registrar of the institute. Librarian-in-Charge Partha Dey revealed his plans to have a book-centre at the place too, with RFID tagged books so that students don’t lose on the academic front. The contract has been handed over to CPWD, which shall develop it in a month before the college reopens.<br />
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<br />
Professors were largely happy with the development, as they now see the hope of having their salaries increased if the fast unto conversion becomes successful but were a little worried at the same time because it could mean they will have to finally do some research and publish International Papers. Students, on the other hand, have been scavenging older issues of Mailer Daemon, the college newsletter, to look out for issues that it would rant in every edition. They plan to develop a year long strategy and hold a protest each month to make full use of the facilities. ISS- the student’s body- is already drafting a proposal at having a new Protest Society and have funds allocated for it as well.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-22423019515845238912011-06-13T09:21:00.000-07:002011-06-13T09:41:58.819-07:00Crippled<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-MM_aXdsY_wI5X9ttzviPsmfpPujd82qvNuFxpx3XRpM73vmPazRChNmZ_x_Gc-MWh2JnDzoXSHuQDg8iWc31ow-s2GgS_IS7dnIo-_pWiWYPOzW3q7OfLv9mxp6jY5z0leWzmSKQ3A/s1600/Sam_claflin_01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-MM_aXdsY_wI5X9ttzviPsmfpPujd82qvNuFxpx3XRpM73vmPazRChNmZ_x_Gc-MWh2JnDzoXSHuQDg8iWc31ow-s2GgS_IS7dnIo-_pWiWYPOzW3q7OfLv9mxp6jY5z0leWzmSKQ3A/s320/Sam_claflin_01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617745153335995170" /></a><br /><br /><br />I don't know if it is just me or it happens to others too. But whenever I like a guy, or find him hot, I go all numb! Expecially if that guy is anywhere near me. My heart beat increases suddenly and it starts beating so loud that I can literally hear it beat!!! I suddenly feel like I have no energy in my whole body and my legs feel so weak that they start shaking, as if they can't stand my weight!! Yes, that's right, I am really (and not literally) shaking when I am around any guy whom I happen to like.<br />Not to mention that I can't find anything to start a conversation. As it is, it is hard for me to talk to strangers, and it becomes an uphill task to even say a Hi or give him a smile!!<br /><br />Take this, a guy whom I have been eying for so long and have a huge crush on, one day said Hi to me and asked me how was my weekend (we happened to talk a few days earlier because of some work). It was so unexpected that he would even bother to say Hi and enquire about me, but he did! I was on seventh sky and my happiness knew no bound and I was all smiles. But all I could say was yes, was nice.. blabbered something and then quickly ran off from there!! Yes, I ran off, without making any effort to take the conversation further!! Reason?? My heart was beating out so loud, i was starting to become breathless, went weak on my knees and a few more minutes there and I would have fainted most likely!!<br /><br />He talked to me another day on a very flimsy kind of pretext, and all I did was answer him and again go away!! I don't know if it is only me or others also find them in a similar situation. But i feel so crippled. I seem to be fine (rather expert) online, and had the same thing happened over chat, I would have stretched the chat for hours.. and may be flirted too so well... But sigh... I am just so challenged when it comes to making the move in real life. I would really like to have some advice here from the experts.<br /><br />P.S. The pic is of the Missionary guy who was there in POC4, and who is my latest crush. We both share the same Birth dates, but no, in the post I wasn't talking about him :PSukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-62676194839105257632011-05-29T11:52:00.000-07:002011-05-29T11:55:50.464-07:00Miss You!Dear Blog,<br /><br />This is just to say that there are so many pending posts, incomplete posts. I really miss you and hope to finish those soon.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-83325320183103631292011-04-20T10:23:00.000-07:002011-04-20T10:41:24.532-07:00A Failed Love Story - I<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9sCJPCbmyqpy4IVxX2vP4AH7jAmtZprRm3jQkxsyd2xkcYVjNe35bxqNIT6xbuzRIarCwdpgaFos1kxJe1kul1gnzh4aBIUL-2Db381h9nU52fd0a7YuqYN1_jzdBMUDIPoTTOoxOl4/s1600/broken-heart-red-cartoon.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9sCJPCbmyqpy4IVxX2vP4AH7jAmtZprRm3jQkxsyd2xkcYVjNe35bxqNIT6xbuzRIarCwdpgaFos1kxJe1kul1gnzh4aBIUL-2Db381h9nU52fd0a7YuqYN1_jzdBMUDIPoTTOoxOl4/s320/broken-heart-red-cartoon.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597720378516203234" /></a><br /><br />So I set down to write something for <a href="http://chaymagazine.org/">Chay</a> for the upcoming issue on Heart and wonder what should I write? Should I write about how I tend to always fall for the wrong guys, or should I write about how after each disastrous date, I vow not to go out for any more dates, and yet, the very next day can be found online searching for future dates? Amidst all this turmoil, a part of my brain still wants to analyse my last relationship and I finally decide to write about it. <br /><br />So what exactly did go wrong? Before I go into dissecting the relation, a brief description about how it all began would be helpful I suppose. He was an excellent writer and would send me his articles for the magazine. And it didn’t take long for the two of us to hit it along. Before we knew, we were constantly texting each other and discussing virtually every single moment of our life via text. It goes without mentioning that we were soon the best of friends. After about a month of texting and chatting, we finally met for the first time at a film festival we were attending in Kolkata. It was only after another three months, when I had finished my college and was waiting for the joining dates to arrive that I first realised he had fallen for me. I kept enjoying all the attention that I received for the first time in my life and kept flirting, without getting committal about anything. It was only when the time had come to leave the city to go to my city of work, that I began contemplating is it time to take our relation to a next level. He had all the qualities I had ever dreamt of having in my ideal boy friend. He was intelligent, was a student of biology, was internet savvy, and was an excellent writer and poet. Yet, I knew I didn’t feel that spark for him, that physical attraction towards him. I thought to myself, “Does love has to be defined by physical attraction?” So, even after being advised against it, I decided to go ahead.<br /><br />So, a day before I was to leave for Gurgaon, we met at one of the most romantic spots in my birth place, beside the river Hooghly in the evening, in the backdrop of a setting Sun. For most part of it, we kept quiet, looked at each other and laughed. I was waiting for him to say something, and he probably expected the same. Then it was time for us to leave and we took a bus for our destinations. In the bus, just before he was to get down, he handed me a gift and blabbered something that it has an LED and it will glow. As soon as he got down, I opened it to find a lovely white rose of glass. A parting gift just as delicate as a heart, a little carelessness and it shall break forever. I reached back home and asked him why he didn’t say to me what he wanted to; and he said he didn’t know what my response would be and he didn’t want to spoil the friendship that had developed between the two of us. And I retorted back how foolish he was not to have asked me. He was the most romantic and caring person I had ever met. We promised to make our long distance relation work with the best of our efforts. And with that promise, I left the very next day.<br />The next few days(rather weeks) were hectic. Moving from the comforts of a college life to a corporate life was taking a bit more than usual for me to adjust. I would come back tired at night, and then have little energy left to chat. He would be waiting for me to come online and talk to me, but many a times I wouldn’t respond back. Because if ever I did, the chat would stretch for hours, eating away all the time; and the time after office was the time I would generally get to work on Gaylaxy. I had also stopped responding to his sms in the day, when I would be in office. As if my silence wasn’t enough, the only time I would text him was when I would spot some hot guy, or some other guy would make a pass at me. The pain I was inflicting on him was getting reflected from the poems that he would write. Then one day he wrote to me:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I know u r really busy. Ever since u had been to GGN i came to terms with the fact that u have increased responsibilities, office, Gaylaxy, a lot to manage and have very little time to spare. I waited for my turn.....i never complained.<br />Of late i felt neglected, i am sure it was not intentional, but that does not change it. For about 20 days now we have not even talked properly, neither on sms nor on chat. However i always find that u talk to others as usual (call this a product of my selfish mind, but its true). You have the time to talk to people on FB, or sms chat with people, but never ever drop in a simple "Hi" or "Hello" on my inbox. You only seem to share ur experience on the ggn roads or some chat u had with someone (not that u shud not share these.....but restricting most communications to just these.......i am sorry!)<br /><br />May be i expect a lot from relationships. May be its just the way we look at a relationship are different. For me my man gets the first priority in my life. Never do i spend a moment without sparing a thought for him, and also make it a point to drive home that point. I believe the person who has the first right to know whats happening in my life is my beau, and vice versa. Time is the biggest investment in a relationship. Specially so with LDR. <br /><br />I am sure u will put an end to my silent suffering. i know u have a story to tell too. But i dont know, are you serious about me? Or am i eating up your personal space?</span><br /><br />This mail was the first indication that nothing was going right in this relation. I should have broken up probably there and then itself. But, then, I got defensive. Why exactly? Because suddenly I realized that I was being dumped!! So I wrote back on how things had changed on my end and it wasn’t the way it used to be where I could chat with him all day long. Of course, I was saying the truth, but deep inside, I was also hiding the truth that “it wasn’t working out”. That wasn’t the only mail that I received. There were a couple more in the next few weeks, and then there would be his extremely pain filled poems. But I kept mum in all this. I wanted the relation to “die a natural death”, where instead of asking me all the reasons he would simply say that it isn’t working out. <br /><br />to be contd...Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-30768809903618343582011-04-10T07:48:00.000-07:002011-04-10T08:09:29.723-07:00Mommy, you taught me to respectWhile I should be writing down the cover story for the next issue of Gaylaxy, I suddenly have this urge of writing down a letter to my mother, about how she always taught me to respect others.. May be this post could become my coming out to my family sometime later, or show me the way of breaking the news to them in the future.<br /><br />At this point, I just want to tell you Mom, I don't know whether you remember or not, but since my childhood, you have taught me not to make fun of others because of either their disability or their difference. You always said, "If you make fun of them, something similar shall happen to you too. God is watching, he will get back to you." So when as a kid (i was in class 3 i guess) there was this other child who walked a bit differently. You asked his mother if he was doing this as some child prank or did he have some bone deformity and when she replied that he had a bone deformity, you asked me never to make fun of him. Probably all mothers do so. But I know for sure, you always did. From childhood, you taught e to respect people, and I always do.<br /><br />I remember having asked you once as to how does a person become a hijda (I was in class 9 i guess and our Science teacher had scolded a girl when she laughed at something related to this topic being said by her. She explained how it is all due to the genes and one should not laugh at it)and u said, "When they (Hijdas) find out that there has been such a birth, they come and take away the child." And when I asked, "And the mother lets them take away the child?" you said, "Yes" but i could see the pain in ur eyes unable to explain why someone would do so. I have never seen you making fun of the Hijda community either, like other people do. <br /><br />Why am I trying to tell you all this, or writing down all this? Because I just want you to know, that you have always taught me to respect others and be compassionate, and I thank you for that. It is for you that I am what I am today, a good and compassionate human being if I may say so. And when I come out to you, I hope you will continue to respect me or the community and show the same understanding. Deep down, I feel you will... but then there is always a fear associated with it.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-40116696913735246342011-02-16T11:02:00.000-08:002011-02-16T11:11:10.494-08:00How it all Began...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9_i0hyphenhyphenJMgCJZsjlzEBktKhGfQp3yFPq3_aX8eKuZdt1k5N17qNChPxAYk5L1r3QdrSdm8p2Hl5ZYq2Ts0aP2O5Y4dSl17biB4tNyPOmpvrERb4y12DVmXQwIB5YJvrU5kPEupfcBAXw/s1600/logo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 111px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9_i0hyphenhyphenJMgCJZsjlzEBktKhGfQp3yFPq3_aX8eKuZdt1k5N17qNChPxAYk5L1r3QdrSdm8p2Hl5ZYq2Ts0aP2O5Y4dSl17biB4tNyPOmpvrERb4y12DVmXQwIB5YJvrU5kPEupfcBAXw/s320/logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574366699608727250" /></a><br /><br />And just like that, we complete a full year! Memories are still fresh in my mind, of how <a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">Gaylaxy</a> was all born out of my sheer frustration with the fact that I had to often keep scavenging the web for gay related news articles. I thought to myself, ‘Why can’t there be a magazine which would bring everything under one roof?’ After all, LGBT community is supposed to be a very talented one, and I hated the fact that despite such a pool of talent, I had to be at the mercy of one or two articles every now and then. This dissatisfaction led me to take a step forward in the final semester of my college. I was very apprehensive of how it would be received, and shared the idea with only two-three friends of mine. I still remember when I asked Sukanya, one of the editors, to help me out with the first issue, she asked: ‘And what plans do you have after this issue?’ I had no answer as such, because I had no plans. I believed that people would come forward to help and so could only say, “Let’s see, I am sure I will find people willing to write in, I can sustain it on my own for three issues. If I don’t get a good response, I will stop.” And after a full year, I am glad to say that not only did I find writers to write for <a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">Gaylaxy</a>, but the overwhelming response from all quarters just bowled us over and ensured that we kept coming out with regular issues (Ok, may be not so regular, but we keep trying).<br /><br /><br />Recently, while I was describing <a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">Gaylaxy</a>’s journey to a person, he said, “So you had a nice gay-friend circle in college who helped you out?” And I said, “No, they are all straight!” Yes, one of the USPs of <a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">Gaylaxy</a> is that there are many straight people involved, from its very beginning! From the graphic designers to the web-master and editors; Gaylaxy would be incomplete without them and their selfless efforts. None of this would have been possible without their support and constant encouragement.I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all of you, our readers, for being all along in this wonderful journey, without your constant feedback and encouragement, the journey would have ended a long time ago.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-79021758568239968502010-09-26T11:28:00.000-07:002010-09-26T11:40:09.949-07:00Life takes a new turnHave been away for long..and now that tomorrow morning's first session is off, let me put down how life has taken a turn for me, and how this city is.<br /><br />The one month that I have been here has gone away trying to adjust to a new schedule and learning up how to multi-task. I must admit, if I found the first week here quite a "chilled" one, coz all day long we were just given lectures on the home page of Aricent, life has been on gear 4 from the next week itself. It was like suddenly u were pushed from a "bullock-cart" to a "jet-plane". Week two onwards, we were asked to write big programs. Now imagine, all that I knew about c was "BANI C" and suddenly, u r left alone to make such complex programs..that too multi file programs on Unix!! So, by the time I would open the sample programs that were already present on the servers, the trainer had already finished executing it and moved on to another program. So the assignments couldn't be completed on time and it only meant going back to the room and trying to complete them. Amidst all this, I was also receiving mails from readers as to why the issue was getting delayed. So, I also had to take out the pending issue. Of course, almost all the articles were ready and had been edited, but the scarcity of designers had now escalated into a crisis. There was no Pawan or Mukesh by my side now. Both were busy in their jobs and none had an internet connection to stay in touch. So, it meant that the onus was upon me to design those pages yet again (and I just hate doing the layout so much). PJ was of course there, but he also had his start up to take care of. So coming back from office at 7pm, I would first try and complete those pending assignments, and then if I had any energy left, would try and design some page.<br /><br />By Day 3 of week 2, we were juggling with pointers, double pointers.. things that I could never understand in those 4 years of college were finished in a session of 2 hrs flat! No wonder the only thing I encountered try to write a program using poinetrs and executing it was "Segmentation Fault" (Believe me, it is the most irritating one that is so hard to debug). Thankfully, colleagues at Nalanda are friendly and helped in debugging those stupid core dump that were generated. By week 3, I had got used to these multi-files a bit. Weekends were the ones that I looked forward to. Not because I would go out anywhere, but because I would complete my quota of sleep on those two days. I forgot to mention one another big change in me since I arrived here. With strict instructions from home to move on to the bigger turban, I decided that I should join the new place with a new look. Now, I am no expert at turban tying. The first day, it took me about an hour to wear that turban. And it still usually takes me about half an hour to tie it up everyday. So, I get up at around 5: 30 everyday, take a bath and all, and from 6:30 onwards, am busy trying to perfect the turban of mine. Sigghh.. dont remember before moving in to Gurgaon, when was the last time I even woke up at 8. Getting up at 11 am, then doing the "household chores" and all leaves u with litle time for anything productive on a weekend. So while others chose to go for a visit to Agra or Delhi, I decided I had more important task at hand- that of taking out the issue, and so gave it a skip.<br /><br />Weekends hold even more excitement because that is the day when everyone gets to try their hand at new recipes. At around 2 in the after noon we start deciding what should we cook (and mostly, we end up on Khichdi :P) by the time sumone (DT, PJ, Apurv or Ritu) is done cooking, the "bhukkey" insaans finish off every last piece of rice. Gladly, I have learnt how to cook Khichdi (lol) and Upma and hope to learn a few more thinsg soon. A similar thing happens at night too, and at times we end up ordering Pizza. :D<br /><br />The kaam vaali bai that started cooking a week after we arrived just adds to all this excitement (she cooks the dinner). She has a knack of placing all the spoons and utensils each day at some new place. So you get to explore each nook and corner of the kitchen. Then, she takes a weekly off on sunday, and despite a month having been passed, we are caught unawares on that fateful day. But in the end, it is still fun living alone, a grown up life. And I need to learn up cooking qucikly too.<br /><br />The issue was also released thankfully on 31st, the day when the money was also credited to my account. But Lakshmi Ji decided not to shine so quickly and I was made to wait full 4 days to lay my hands on them. Its a long story that I dont intend to share here, I have already cribbed a lot in this post I guess. Thankfully, I just about managed to pass in the first test that was held (and there's one each week until Nov) Its not that I have adjusted fully to the new schedule. I wouldnt have found things so if I only had the office to deal with. But as others say, I will slowly learn to juggle all this succesful. I hope I do, coz I break down too often now. But then, that is exactly what I can't afford now. <br /><br />(The post was written a few weeks ago. AT present, thanks to the CWG, no maids available for cooking and have subscribed to tiffin service. That experience would take another post for sure)Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-40331032498761527522010-07-18T08:14:00.000-07:002010-07-18T08:30:14.458-07:00Salutes and Half Waves- IVThe conversation<br /><br />I got up in the morning and felt unwell. The monsoon was in Kolkata, and this city becomes a hotbed of viruses during this time. I had probably caught the flu virus myself. But unlike before, I was happy for this unwarranted attack on me, because it provided me with another opportunity to cross that shop as I go over to the Doctor’s Chamber. I had already resolved to strike up a conversation and exchange numbers. We were shifting home and both my parents had gone to the new house we were to shift to. The chamber was near our new house. I hadn’t told anyone at home that I was feeling unwell, lest my parents asked me to go along with them. <br /><br />As noon approached, I dressed up. I informed Aagan that it was time I tried my luck. He wished me luck and bombarded me with the silliest of suggestions on how to strike up a conversation with him. I stepped outside and felt a chill run down my spine. The same emotions and activities repeated themselves. But Shankar wasn’t there. My heart broken, I hoped to see him in the shop when I returned back. As if the gods were with me, the chamber was closed, providing me with another chance to repeat my actions in the evening. I went to our new house; my parents were done with their chores too. My mother told me that the doctor was himself unwell and had come to take medicine for himself when she caught up with him. I thanked the gods again, else my mother would have accompanied me in the evening. I gave them the key to the home and let them return back before me, so that I could be alone when I approached the shop. Being on my bicycle, they would have reached before me anyways, meaning I was on safe grounds. I was excited and nervous again, but it seemed lady luck wasn’t to shine on me so soon. The rest of the afternoon I SMS-chatted with Aagan, expressing my desire and growing impatience to know Shankar better. I was turning into a hapless romantic and my facebook status reflected the same, inviting both congratulatory and enquiring comments. All these helped me kill my time, but my thoughts revolved around something else. I knew I wouldn’t be able to chat with him face-to-face for too long. I was never good at that. However, I seemed to have no problem chatting up on SMS or over internet. <br /><br />It was quarter to seven when I started dressing up. This was the time I had seen him by his shop before, and hoped to meet him again. As I approached his shop, I could see from a distance a man of almost the same features sitting there. I was happy that Shankar, the man I had longed to talk to for so long, was all alone. I crossed over the road, but as I reached the shop, it turned out to be his co-worker. I stopped there momentarily and looked here and there, but my man was nowhere to be found. I looked up the sky, seeking an end to all my agony and went on to the doctor. My medicine taken, I hoped to get lucky now. I had resolved to go and ask for his number at the shop even if he wasn’t there. “Or shonge ektu kotha aache (There is something I need to talk to him about),” I had thought of saying.<br /><br />I could see from a distance the light inside the shop. My man was standing there, all alone and busy with his chores. ‘This was it, this was my moment. It was now or never,’ I said to myself as I summoned all the gods and gathered all my courage. I straight away went inside the shop and called out his name. He looked up at me, our eyes met and I knew he had been longing for this moment as much as I did, if not more. It seemed that the gods had finally granted me my wish, that all my prayers had been answered, and that time would exist to move.<br />He came a little forward. He was wearing a ganjee and had a handkerchief placed around his neck. For the first time I got an opportunity to watch him up close. He was a few centimeters shorter than me, had slight hairs on his chest. While I will refrain from comparing him with Adonis or Brad Pitt, he definitely was handsome and good looking enough to have caught my eye that fateful day, leaving me staring at him. His arms had well-developed muscles, not the gym-toned ones, but one which you would find any hard working wage earner to be endowed with. He had a black band on his wrist while a blue jeans covered his legs. Going by the manner in which the handkerchief was wrapped around his neck and the wrist-band, I knew my man was fashionable and had a style.<br /><br />“Ami ki tomarke jani? Kothai hoye to dekha hoyeche ? Amar theek bahabe mone prche na. (Do I know you? May be I have met you somewhere, I can’t recall properly.),” I enquired in Bengali.<br /><br />“Na (No),” he said.<br /><br />“Kintu janle hi kotha korbe erokum to kichu nahi. Bondhutwa korte toh kichu lage na.(But is it that only if a person knows another then only can he talk to him? It doesn’t take anything to befriend a person.),” he added quickly.<br /><br />I had received the message wide and clear. My joy knew no limit now. All I needed to do now was keep up this conversation as long as I could and get his phone number.<br /><br />“No, befriending someone doesn’t take anything. It was just that I saw you that day while coming out of my house and felt as if I knew you. Then I would see you waving at me. It seemed that I knew you,” I replied with a smile.<br />“I saw that you didn’t talk to anyone around much. I would often see you crossing from here. It’s been only a month since you are here, right?” he asked.<br /><br />“Umm…yes, I was outside before for my studies. But I would come here during the holidays, though that would be for a few days only. But yes, now I am here for good and I have been around for a month,” I answered back.<br />I wanted to get as much information about him as possible. I wanted to know when I would find him there and how long had my eyes been blind to this beauty. I seemed to be conversing well with him and I went on to ask, “What is your timing here at work?”<br /><br />“I come at around 11am and then leave at 7pm,” he replied.<br /><br />“But I will be leaving this job soon. They don’t pay me much here,” he was quick to give out this piece of information to me.<br /><br />“How much do they pay you?” I asked.<br /><br />“Rs. 2000 per month, that’s it.”<br /><br />“That is a paltry sum,” I said, “Don’t you know some other work? You can work elsewhere.”<br /><br />“No, I work on glass only,” he replied with a sad tone.<br /><br />“What about you? How many are there in your family?” he asked me.<br /><br />I answered his question and went on to enquire about his family. I got to know that he was the only son of his parents. He then took the onus of keeping the conversation alive and asked me what glass I should be using for the window panes. He tried to educate me about the benefits of using glass over fiber, on how fibers tend to shrink or get folded due to the heat and break. I faked my interest in the topic, while my eyes devoured every little detail of his beautiful carved out body. I felt like telling him that all that chit-chat with the owner the previous day was meant only to get to you closer but refrained from doing so. I saw a golden opportunity here and jumped in, “Who would be going to repair it?” I asked,<br /><br />“If I am there, I will go, or else someone else will.”<br /><br />“When do you remain at the shop? When will YOU go for the repair?” I stressed on the you, making it amply clear that it was him that I was interested in.<br /><br />“I told you, I come at around 11. You will find me then. If I haven’t gone to work at someone’s place, I remain here,” he replied back.<br /><br />“So can I have your number? I will call you to know if you are there at the shop.”<br /><br />“You can take the shop’s number,” he said.<br /><br />“No, can’t I have your mobile number?” I cut him short in his sentence.<br /><br />“Yes, if you wish. But I don’t carry the mobile. It remains at home,” he said, thus revealing his reluctance to share the number.<br /><br />“Ok, I will call you once you have reached the home. At what time do you reach home?”<br /><br />“I reach home at around 8pm,” he said, “But today I will have to stay here a bit late. So will reach at 9. You call me today after 9. On other days you can call after 8,” he quickly punched in this information.<br /><br />“Ok, you take down my number then,” and I started taking out a piece of paper from my pocket on which had written down my number to pass on to him.<br /><br />“No, you call me,” he said.<br /><br />I understood what he meant and said that I will leave an SMS. I then said, “Ok then, I shall leave now.”<br />“You can stay and talk, I am free now,” pat came his reply.<br /><br />So I talked to him for another 5 minutes and tried to ask him out, but he seemed to be surprised at the proposal. I was probably moving too fast now. An old lady who used to sit in the shop arrived and I soon bid him goodbye, with the promise of calling him up. I had chatted him up for around 20 minutes! It was quite a mark for a diffident person like me.<br /><br />It was quarter past 7 when I came back from this rendezvous and the next one and half hour seemed to be eternity. I dropped him an SMS to give me a missed call after reading it. Over 20 minutes passed, but there was no response from that side. I grew restless by now. But to my relief, I found the SMS hadn’t been delivered and on calling him up, found his cell switched off. It was around 10 pm when I finally received his missed call. <br /><br />Without wasting any more time, I quickly slipped out of home to call him up, which ended with the promise of meeting again the next day.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-46500160631870681982010-07-12T13:35:00.000-07:002010-07-12T13:37:51.327-07:00Salutes and Half Waves -IIIDay 5- My Man has a name<br /><br /><br />We were relocating to a new rented house as our current landlord had asked us to vacate, and so we were slowly shifting to the new one, which wasn’t too far away. My mother had filled a bag of some of the utensils that weren’t used regularly. A thought struck me that it could give me another chance to meet my man. I offered to carry the bag. My mother was pleasantly surprised by the gesture from her lazy son, but offered it graciously. My mother and father reached the house. They had to do some cleaning and all. I stayed put till 11 am, when I thought I had some prospects of meeting my man at the shop. However, as all the emotions repeated themselves within me as I crossed the shop, I only met with disappointment. It was around noon and my parents hadn’t yet returned from that house. I had been exchanging texts with Aagan all this while. Egged on by his support and encouragement, I decided it was time for me to make a move. I couldn’t be the helpless person that I was being and expect Cupid to strike his arrow. So, I decided to check at the shop again and start a conversation somehow. I peeped inside the shop, and he was working there, his back towards me; which meant he didn’t have the slightest inkling that I was there. I froze and instead of going inside, went a little farther along the road. I was exchanging texts with Aagan continuously. He sent me a message, “It’s now or never.” As if it stirred something inside me. I went ahead, my heart pounding so loudly that I feared a person standing nearby would be able to hear each heartbeat. By the time I went in, there was another person already inside, giving instructions to my man and his teenaged co-worker. I simply stood behind that person and kept eyeing my man. He had seen me, smiled at me, but didn’t wave; possibly due to the present of this foreign entity, who stood between us two; oblivious to my presence since he had his back towards me. He was shouting, “Shankar, didn’t I tell you to take these glasses to Sen’s house and get the job done?” By the tone of it, I guessed that he must be the shop owner.<br /><br />“Shankar, so that’s his name,” I thought to myself.<br /><br />I was elated at finally learning the name of my waving man, my joy knowing no bounds. I was constantly exchanging glances with Shankar, the two of us smiling at each other, as if we both knew the purpose of this visit. Suddenly the man turned and asked me, “Yes, what do you want?”<br /><br />I was so taken aback by this sudden interruption that I didn’t know what to say. My mind went blank and I fumbled. My thoughts were still pre-occupied with Shankar. I tried to make some sense and finally got on track.<br /><br />“Do you have that glass…..ummm…the plastic one that doesn’t break?”<br /><br />“The fibre glass, yes we have it.”<br /><br />“How much does it cost?” <br /><br />Even as I was making this frivolous enquiry, I had my eyes transfixed on Shankar, who was standing behind the owner, smiling all along. I quickly raised my eyebrows a little, enough to be noticed by Shankar, but escaping that of any other man who didn’t have any idea of what was going on between the two of us. He saw me make the gesture, gave a big smile and blushed. That was enough for me. I now no longer had even an iota of doubt about what does salutes had meant.<br /><br />“Where do you want it?” the owner asked me and I had to turn my attention away from Shankar.<br /><br />“Our new home, we are shifting, a few of the window panes are broken and would need to be fixed. How much will it cost?”<br /><br />“I will have to take the measurements and then suggest. I can’t tell you now.”<br />I saw an opportunity here and enquired who he would be sending. Even as I asked this question, I looked up at Shankar, who was giggling by now.<br /><br />“I might go myself, or I might send someone form the shop.”<br /><br />That was it, I had heard what I wanted to. I said I will get back to him later, and then instead of going back to my home, stood under a tree nearby, waiting for him to get out. As soon as he did, I went to the shop. Shankar was coming out and was surprised to find me there. He didn’t forget to salute me. As he raised his hand, I gathered all my courage and asked him in bengali, “Aage ki kokhun amarder kotha hoiche?” (Have we talked before?)<br /><br />“No,” he said.<br /><br />Even before I could ask him any further question, I saw the owner coming from behind me and I quickly walked away. I was a happy man today!<br /><br />Needless to say, I remained jubilant throughout the day. I now wanted to engage him in a conversation. The first hurdle crossed, I now desperately sought a few minutes with him in isolation and exchange numbers, so that I could talk my heart out over the phone. Shankar had already made the first move, it was now my turn to take the next step.The whole evening I kept SMS-chatting with Aagan, who had by now turned into my Love Guru.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-80158093088908018452010-07-07T11:04:00.000-07:002010-07-12T13:41:09.190-07:00Salutes and Half-Waves II<span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 3</span><br />I was now looking for some or the other opportune moment to cross the shop. Luckily for me, the next day a school friend of mine named Suman was to visit me. We had never met after passing out from school, when I took up engineering and went to study in another state and she took up Basic Sciences, before dropping from the course and appearing in the entrance exams for engineering. We had lost touch, but after she had got herself admitted in B. Pharm course, she managed to get my number from a common friend and since then we would be in touch occasionally. Somehow, her enthusiasm while talking to me had always been a cause of concern for me. What more, she would then give her phone to her mother and father too, to talk to me. I had found this strange. Though I had met her parents in a few occasions, I never shared a kind of bond that they would be eager to talk to me so much over the phone. May be it was because I had always been the topper of my class throughout my school life. However, none of the parents of my other male friends ever seemed to be eager to talk to me over the phone when I would call them up. Why them then? But I had always ignored it all. She would always ask me to come to her house whenever I would come to Kolkata during vacations, but the lazy me would hardly get his ass up to anywhere, least of all for a girl. <br />Now things were different. I had finished my course and was here for a few months and she was all so eager to meet me. So I finally invited her over to my place. She was to come today, at around 10 am. And if her voice over the mobile was any indication, I knew she wouldn’t be late by even a second, come what may. She didn’t know the path to my house and so I was to go and bring her from the bus stop. And I was more than happy to do so, because it meant crossing that glass shop. I prayed to god as I stepped out for my man to be there. Monsoon had already arrived in Kolkata and it was extremely cloudy. I prayed that it starts raining suddenly and I take shelter in his shop. Throughout that 5 minute stretch between my house and the shop, I had prayers on my lips. As I approached it, my heart started thumping loudly. But alas! He wasn’t there.<br />As I reached the bus stop, another sight surprised me. Suman had her mother by her side. She never gave me the slightest of hint that her mother would be accompanying her. How should I decipher that? But then the thought crossed my mind that Bengali’s are too protective of their child, especially girls and often accompanied them to most places. After the customary Namaste and Hi, we started walking towards my home. I crossed the shop again. Even as I chatted with Suman, I looked inside the shop, there was no sign of him. I deliberately asked her to stop there so that her mother could catch up with us. But the brief stop failed to yield the result I had intended it to. I moved on with a heavy heart. <br />My mother was equally surprised to see Suman with her mother. She was cleaning up the wheat that my father had brought all the way from Punjab. She had to leave her current vocation and join us inside. After all, it would have been an extremely rude and unwelcoming behaviour if my mother wouldn’t chat with her counterpart. The chit-chat went on for nearly two hours. The topics ranged from how well a student I was in school to why and how my parents had come to Kolkata, with Suman’s mother occasionally advising to buy some property in Kolkata and settle down. However, when she sensed that my mother wouldn’t have a piece of that, she was all nostalgic about the days she had spent in Chandigarh when her husband was posted there. Finally, at 12:30 pm they decided it was time to leave and I received an invitation yet again to visit their home, both of them having extracted enough information about my likes and dislikes in food. And so, I received a lunch invitation to be precise.<br />The previous day it was around noon that I had seen him at the shop. This raised the prospects of stealing a glance at him today again, if I was to get lucky. Thankfully, a friend of mine who had recently joined a software giant in Salt Lake had called me up and asked me to get his cell recharged, since he couldn’t get the time to do so himself. So now, I had two excuses to go that side again. One, I had to see Suman and her mother off, and two I had to get my friends cellphone recharged. As had become the custom with me by now, I stepped out of my house with prayers on my lips. As I crossed the shop, I saw him there again. I was overjoyed. He didn’t see me and neither did I try to gain his attraction by standing there, since I was with Suman. In addition, now that I knew he was there at the shop, I would get another chance when I return to catch his eye. So, I saw my friend off, got the cell recharged and was back to where my heart seemed to have been left. I could hear my heart beating out loud inside my chest. Nervousness was taking over me. Should I stop by and talk to him? What should I say? How should I start conversing him? These thoughts were constantly unsettling me.<br />The shop arrived. He looked at me and stood up to give his customary salute, and I repeated my end of the gesture. I couldn’t muster enough courage to stop by and even ask his name on some flimsy context. All I could do was come back home and have self-pittance over my own inability.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 4</span><br /><br />I could hardly concentrate on anything now. I had to let my feelings out in some way, to some one. I couldn’t keep the excitement within me and decided to share the new tryst in my life with my friend Aagan. I had befriended Aagan over the net and we had developed a nice friendship. The whole day I SMS-chatted with him, telling him about my feelings, and like a Love Guru, he kept advising me. I didn’t get lucky in the afternoon and in the evening, as I did meet him. He was on a bicycle, clothed in his finest accessories, and in the midst of the crowded street. But that didn’t stop him from performing his salutation. I was on a bicylce myself, my mother seated at the back and so, couldn’t stop him and talk to him. I had lost a golden opportunity to talk to him all alone.<br />All night long, only one song kept repeating itself inside my mind, “Ghar se nikalte hi, kuch dur chalet hi, raste pe hai uska ghar…” My situation was no better than the Hindi film hero who would roam around the house of the one he was eyeing and about whom he knew nothing, except for the time when she would come to the balcony to dry up the clothes and look at him and smile…only in my case, it was a man instead of a woman.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-59296177508423913572010-07-02T12:08:00.000-07:002010-07-02T12:09:22.767-07:00Salutes and Half Waves- IIt’s been so long since I have even logged onto this blog. I had been wanting to write down the bitter experience I had in the last two days at ISM, thanks to the administration and their whims. I actually fell ill due to that. But today I am in a different mood these days...and I have decided to write down the recent turn of events in the form a story....<br /><br />Kindly note that it would be most real..with a few exaggerations here and there, what I would call as "Creative Freedom".. It is gonna e a long one..and even I don't know what turn it will take.<br /><br />Something unexpected has been happening for the last few days and has been occupying my IMAGINATION since then. Yes, imagination I write, cause I still don’t know if it’s all in my head, or am I deciphering the signals correctly. Well, I am old enough to take note of the signals now, though I have never done that before, but yes, I have read it a thousand times online…and I think it is happening with me too. (Yay!!)<br /><br />It all began about a week ago. I was getting out of my house, my cycle with me, to buy milk from the dairy shop. As I just got out of the door, there I saw, a guy of almost my age in his early 20s, riding his cycle along with his friend. I kept looking at him (the way I usually do with good looking guys) and he seemed to be doing the same, or at least had noticed the same. He smiled at me, and I sort of shied away. For a moment, it seemed as if I had seen the guy somewhere or knew him. Was that the reason he had also looked at me? Well, I didn’t waste much of my time and got up my cycle. I was headed in the same direction as him. I cycled fast to reach him, and then slowed down. He noticed me again, and this time said, “Nahi pehchante toh kya hua, baat toh kar hi sakte ho!” I momentarily stopped my cycle. My heartalmost skipping a beat. But then, out of no reason, I just sped away. He had reached his destination and he advanced no more, though his words rang in my ears, like the temple bells. How much I cursed myself for not stopping by and starting a conversation, for I didn’t know if I would be ever seeing him again. But then, when it came to talking to strangers or persons I am not too familiar with, I develop cold feet. I am such a crippled man in these terms, and it played spoilsport.<br /><br />I thought it would be like the thousands of guys I just develop a fancy for while walking down the street or in any other crowded place and then forget as soon as I am out of it. But as luck would have it, it was not to be the case this time. As I returned back from my small trip to the dairy and was about to enter my house, I saw him coming again, this time without a shirt and only in his ganjee, sweat dripping from his body and his handkerchief around his neck. And there he was, smiling at me, and in fact, he waved at me. Not wave actually; he sort of saluted me. This time he was all alone, not in the company of any friend. I so dearly wanted to stop him and ask him was he actually hitting on me or was it just another Bengali catching the fancy of befriending a Punjabi? But as usual, I froze at the very thought of talking to him, and I let the moment pass again. Sighhh..<br /><br />But destiny seems had some greater plans for me and I was to meet him very soon. And by very soon I mean a few hours later. It was around 7 pm and my stomach seemed to be asking to be fed with some light snack or evening meal. So I went to buy chops from the local shop, which was exactly at the place where I had sped away from him. As the Chopwallah was frying those chops, I stood there, trying to figure out among the dim light of the street lamp any good looking guy who could make my wait worth it and soothe my sore eyes. As I turned around, I saw two figures sitting outside a shop nearby. It wasn’t even a second that my eyes had wandered there but I saw someone waving at me and saluting in that typical manner I had seen a few hours back. My man was sitting there, chatting up with his friend, at the same time, keeping an eye on me. I wanted to run over to him and jump on him. I was all smiles, but from this distance and this darkness, he would have never seen that smile on my face. I lifted my hand to him, then pulling it back; not knowing what to do or how to respond. But even as this commotion within me continued, I did manage to half-wave at him back and he seemed to have seen that. I now felt like walking up to him, but he had his friend by his side. Even as my mind kept jostling between what should I do and what not, a lady came and sat beside them. She had a bowl in her hand and was making jhalmuri. I turned back, my head filled with thoughts of how to approach the guy. As the Chopwallah finished making the aloo chops for me, I paid him and began my journey back home. But to my dismay, he was no longer sitting there. He had suddenly disappeared, just as he had seemed to have appeared from nowhere before me. I lost my cheerful mood, but at least, I knew now that if I was to find him again, it had to be this place and shop. It was with these thoughts that I consoled my mind and prayed for another moment to meet him.<br /><br />Day 2<br /><br />It was just a one day meeting and for some reason, I seemed to have started longing to meet him again. But I was still not sure whether it was a chance encounter or I would be seeing more of him. The shop where I had seen him sitting with his friend the previous night was one that dealt with glass. From glass panes to glass tables…they dealt with everything. As the shop was a few meters away from my home and just on the roadside, I had to cross it whenever I would venture out of my home in that direction. These days, with my B.Tech having completed and me waiting for the joining dates to be mailed to me by the company, I didn’t have much to do and so would usually just doze off at home. But now, I seemed to long to go out in that direction. The next day at around noon, my mother asked me to bring something from the grocery shop. I had to pass the shop again. As I stepped out, I prayed to god to let him be there again. As I neared that shop, I slowed down my bicycle. I hadn’t approached the shop yet, but the road was very much visible in the glasses that lay within, resting against the wall. My man was sitting inside on a wooden table that I had seen being used to keep the glass on it to take measurements etc. He saw my reflection on the glass (which was acting like a mirror now) and was quick enough to look at me as I crossed the shop and raise his hand to give that customary salute of his. I, of course, was all smiles again and half-waved at him again. As I returned back, he was still there, only this time he had his face turned away and he didn’t see me coming. From within me, I waved at him and longed for him to turn back and look at me, but as I crossed the shop, no such thing happened.<br /><br />The whole day I was now pre-occupied with thoughts of whether I was imagining it all up or whether it was heading towards the direction I thought it was. Then there was the bigger question, did he work there or was he just sitting there and chatting with his friend whom I had seen working there. After all, yesterday, he was just sitting outside the shop and was fully clothed, and today he was in his ganjee, though he did have a jeans covering his lower half. Would a worker be wearing jeans to his work? No, no way. The day passed with me contemplating the various possibilities and comforting myself with the fact that it was he who had initiated it all.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-64042149904436568482010-03-31T04:14:00.000-07:002010-03-31T15:11:32.883-07:00Its been a year nowI hope to make it a quick short post. After all, these days I seem to have lost the art of writing long articles. The first thing that my mind wanders to is the word limit, so much that when Sukanya had asked to send a write up for Shreya's Bday, I was the only one asking for word limits. But thankfully, umlike MS word, Blogspot doesnt show you the word count, so I needn't worry about it.<br />What a fine day yesterday was. I woke up, opened my laptop, and there flashed the admittance of Ricky Martin. Of course, his orientation had been the subject of speculation for years, but still, it became official now. I felt happy because as a celebrity, when you do that, you certainly change the views of many. At least many will now know that a gay needn't be feminine or something. But later, I also realised that it's been a year since I came out myself, somewhat in a similar fashion (RM must have taken some inspiration 4m me, lollz). All those feelings rushed in again, when I had finally let it out, and then wud keep checking for any comment from the persons it was intended to, to those words of support which finally came and relieved me. So much has happened since then. So much support from all corners, on the other hand, some say they are fine but their actions and words clearly point the other way and they hardly leave a moment to embarrass/sadden you.<br />And I feel so blessed to have such great friends whom I met through MD. MD is the best thing that has happened to me in my college life for sure. and I never forget to mention about MD wherever I go and have to narrate about how I came up with my magazine. I sincerely don't know what I would have done all these four years without MD. No wonder, Sid and DD were the ones I disclosed my orientation to at first. Before anyone points out that Gaylaxy is the best thing to have happened, let me point out, had it not been for MD, I would never have gained experience, never learned Corel Draw from Pawan and no such thing would have ever happened. At best, I would have been just one contributor to some other magazine.<br /><br />I guess I am just in a jubiliant mood today and truly felt celebrating this "anniversary", which I was reminded of by Ricky Martin's admittance. But yes, before leaving this college, I do plan to come up with a big, nostalgic post about MD. All those silly meetings, about which DD would say "Hum sab kuch toh room mein aa ke decide karte hain, toh meeting kyun karte hain" to those sleepless nights during layout. Oh there is so much to write about what actually transpired in those meetings, which have always been coverts one. Let me see when can I take out some time next. I just need to get a little emotional. May be the MD treat or farewell will provide the impetus.Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-22621808567106849652010-03-05T13:59:00.000-08:002010-03-05T14:02:49.083-08:00Time Out Magazine covers Gaylaxy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg931ezei_hCN05MyL17imbTy2uxetw-ZxQ67ciquzqabdkpf734l-d3yG_2gEDQOs68RHGfRjQFYdfO0y5SWamXApw5t1dCCCxImz6ABxPMijoIO_JdUtwCsJoMdRu1ROQpc-VyHo14ZA/s1600-h/Time+Out+Mag.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg931ezei_hCN05MyL17imbTy2uxetw-ZxQ67ciquzqabdkpf734l-d3yG_2gEDQOs68RHGfRjQFYdfO0y5SWamXApw5t1dCCCxImz6ABxPMijoIO_JdUtwCsJoMdRu1ROQpc-VyHo14ZA/s400/Time+Out+Mag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445273578798628610" border="0" /></a>Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7554263404308946116.post-81053415885991181312010-02-12T07:19:00.001-08:002010-02-17T07:03:46.286-08:00GAYLAXY - East India's first Gay e-Zine<a href="http://gaylaxymag.com/">GAYLAXY - East India's first Gay e-Zine</a><br /><br />The feb issue of Gaylaxy is out. DO check it by clicking on the link above.<br /><br />Posted using <a href="http://sharethis.com/">ShareThis</a>Sukhihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09213476532794019415noreply@blogger.com0