Category Archives: People
“sannaata hai ya shanti, aap hi batao Baabu.”
while writing this letter to you, i realize two things: one, which gives me peace, that i don’t even need to write this because i know we connect beyond any tangible evidence. two, which makes me silent, that you will not be reading this. but i heard somewhere that peace will never come to us, if we don’t try to achieve it and struggle through silence. i am writing to you with all things that i have been silent about, hoping to find peace. i am confused with everything, Baabu. i don’t know whether i have made peace with the face that you are gone. i don’t know whether i can silence the cry within my heart which craves for your company. today, two years after you’ve left, i still remember how i craved for your touch those six hours till i was told that we’ve given peace to your soul at the cremation site. i refuse to believe that. how can you be at peace when we arent? you were always the one who slept only when you knew that all of us are at peace, all of us are okay.
i am still sitting in the same red t-shirt, which i was wearing that day, which gives me the peace and happiness of your touch. there’s a red pen drive in your room which on finding silence, goes on to resonate our last conversation.
“Baabu, pen drive hai?”
“le jao. parr phir laake nai deta hai tumlog.”
i brought back the pen drive, Baabu. if only it was as simple for you to bring yourself back? while many things haven’t changed, many things have and you would be glad to know them. in these two years, 750+ days, rarely have i not arranged my slippers properly, the way you used to tell me to. rarely have i said no to taking dal in my plate while having lunch. yes, i have fought with vishakha but i have loved her more than ever and always tried giving her the love i wanted to give you. although, the majority of that love has been rendered to maa who i want to complain about also.
when she misses you alot, she never shares with us the reason she is crying, however much it might be evident. i have to complain about this, the same way as she used to complain about you eating rajnigandha. i miss our code words for all the things that you stealthily used to eat and i made it possible for you. i always had to choose between your health and your desire. my mind never used to be silent, being confused between whether to help you or be strict, but in my heart i was happy to let you have your peace of fulfilling your wishes.
more than complaining about maa, i want to tell you that while i might not have completely met my promises, she has been there as she promised to be. she told me, “hum Baabu bhi hai. hum maa bhi hai” and not even an ounce of that has proven to be false. when she laughs or smiles, that is when i am actually at peace. one time, i love being silent, is when she sings her prayers in the evening and i stay silent in whichever corner of the house i might be to let her voice calm my mind. and she is one of the most modern grandmothers i have seen, one who uses whatsapp, volunteers to sing sonu song for a video on social media, and i am not sure if anyone in our family now solves sudoku faster than her. if anytime i have not missed you, it is when i have had the love of maa. if anytime i have missed you the most, it is when i have had the love of maa knowing how difficult it would be for her.
i remember how you used to act getting scared because you claimed seeing a skeleton, while i just came out of bath, the cheekiest way i have been told that i am that thin. i still come inside your room and dress in front of the mirror the same way. to not have you do that again makes me silent. to see your frame and your smiling face behind me in the mirror in those five minutes of dressing up, gives me peace.
i remember editing your paperwork and letters and how particular you were about every word, sentence and spacing which i have not done here. to not capitalize any letter might show you the chaos in my mind which does not let me come near to peace. i just know that everytime i write Baabu, i capitalize it because that is the way we address god. and everytime i speak, think or write that, i pause for you to reply with, “beta” but only silence follows.
mere toh bhagwaan aap hi ho Baabu,
sanaata hai ya shaanti, ab aap hi batao.
To Arvind Kejriwal,
After thousands of memes and folklore of your idiocies, I finally arrive to break my silence over the shame you have brought to this only little thing we have in common: our surname. Surnames, as I see, are a matter of pride because every surname carries with it a lineage rich in culture and respect. It is an element of identity; the identity which will continue to persist while everything else may fall down. So yes, in spite of all your fatuousness and absurdities, this surname will not always be looked down upon but I must tell you that you have really tried hard.
Being a Kejriwal, also, is an indicator of being a Marwari which further tells about my natural orientation towards Bhartiya Janta Party. (I admit this openly because this blog, by its very nature, must be blamed on to Modiji!) Though, your entry into the political playfield via India Against Corruption was one where I took pride in having this small little connection with you. It definitely did seem that there are some people who really care for the country and have the calibre to show it, that politically independent activists haven’t really died and that all that Bollywood shows isn’t all that is fake.
The opening stand with Anna Hazare was an amazing innings to watch but like all Delhi Daredevils, the middle order never really clicked. Running Anna Hazare out, you chose to set hefty political targets for yourself but little did we know then, that there were more googlies to follow. Your promise to never participate in dirty politics was something we all looked up to but we never stopped pinning hopes on to you even when you broke that promise. It seemed, for once, that you would redefine democracy with Aam Aadmi Party.
The first signs that you have caught on to political lust was when you joined hands with Congress to win the Delhi seat. To abstain from VIP culture after becoming CM is the last good thing I know of, that you might have done and I believe, you have already undone it. Even on becoming CM, you couldn’t resist sitting on a dharna which was enough of an evidence that you lacked political brains. Everytime we thought that this would be the lowest you could fall, you told us that you were unstoppable. You quit from the post of a CM? Was that all the responsibility you could take behind all that hullabaloo? While I do not understand the Brexit Vote and the American Vote bank for Trump, it takes me an equal effort to understand for what reasons have Delhiites supported you time and again. You have always seen the post of a Chief Minister as a stepping stone to achieve bigger feats which is complete injustice to the capital of India. Cheap is the only term I can attach you with, after seeing you during the Central Elections. A work of a leader is to lead and strategize and not to elicit proof and draw out long list of names whenever an opportunity calls.
In all your absurdities and oh-so-honest behaviour, you were still distinct from Rahul Gandhi or Mamata Banerjee but the unfolding of recent events have suggested that you cover an entire spectrum of hypocrisy, senseless debates, foolishness and political insanity. From online sites to streets to Sabhas, you have left no stone unturned in proving to us this. This move of yours against demonetization policy has completed a full circle of your double faced nature; from being against corruption to being inconsiderate about it.
This letter of mine isn’t as great but nothing related to you ever can be. Delhi is still as much plagued with smog, choked by traffic, and shamed by rapes, crimes and malpractices. Some or the other Kejriwal will bring pride eventually, but you can do your bit by not bringing shame.
Next up: To Chetan from Another Chetan? Well, Chetan Bhagat’s shenanigans are relatively in control. Here was one for Mamata, though.
“If God wanted an Indian CM as His guest, he could’ve spared Amma of Tamil Nadu and could’ve rather taken Nik-Amma of Delhi.” – Whatsapp Forward.
Siblings. They are a blessing. They are your life. And, they are complaining.
“Mummy, bhaiya ke birthday pe hi hota hai kuch bhi. Mere birthday pe kuch hota hi nai”, my sister used to complain. Until one day, when she actually played it smart.
…is what she posted on November 8th, 2014, just five days before her birthday. I laughed so much after seeing this, but we couldn’t just let this opportunity and this wish down. We were up to the task! I remember her excitement just before 13th, when she knew there was a surprise waiting for her in the room and she wasn’t allowed to enter till midnight. I remember the excitement with which all of us were setting up things. Bua had come home. Divya di helped Mummy at making the room look more beautiful. Vaibhav bhaiya took the laziest job of being with Vishakha and not allowing her come near to the surprise area. Papa had brought whatever he was asked to from the market, a day he did not forget not a single thing on the list. The clock struck 12. The laziest job soon was the toughest. Vishakha was raring to enter. Her birthday had started. “Thank you” was all she kept saying, shouting. She smiled. She laughed. She had no idea what else to do other than that. She asked us to click photos, posed with things we had gifted her. She was happy. And none of us can ever forget the way she expressed she was.
I was asked to narrate a memorable incident where being together with family members made me feel optimistic. I had to think much, which made me realize how less such incidents are. But when we actually will think about such memorable incidents, we realize what families can do to us. They give us hope of having any success and happiness in the world which we want and they will make it available. They fill you with optimism when they tell us that it will make them happy, if we find success. They make us look up, because they are behind us armed with pride. The birthday had just started. Vishakha went to Pizzahut for lunch with friends and to GoGreen with us for dinner and that whole day, I could find all of that hope, optimism and pride on her face.
We fight so much because not doing so will be too boring. We hurt each other because we love each other. The amount she loves me is so, so overwhelming. She doesn’t leave one stone unturned when I have fever. She would wash the thermometer, fetch medicines, even volunteer to put wet cloth on my head. That is not all. She is a mumma’s girl. I never used to tell mummy so much about school as she does after returning home. This includes her tears and anger too at some other girl who has offended her.
She was crying and shouting near to mummy when I approached her. She refused to tell me and asked mummy not to tell me. She never shared her incidents only trusting mummy with all of it. I kept forcing. She kept mum.
I always came to know what was the matter, eventually because my mother is also a beta’s mummy. 😀 She was crying because some friend of hers spoke something against me at her school. Haha! This must be 3-4 years back, and seeing such possessiveness and love was surprising.
Siblings are cute. The following narration is my favourite. Before Vishakha was born, we did a trip to Gangtok. Mummy often told her stories from that trip, “Jab tum paida nai hui thi na, toh humlog gangtok gaye the….”
My parents and Vishakha went to Jaiseedhi, which I gave a skip and Vishakha once came to me, to tell her story from the trip saying, “Jab aap paida nai hue the na, toh humlog Jaiseedhi gaye the…” Hahaha! I laughed so much. I told so many other people. And I just couldn’t stop loving her more when she said those words.
Her birthday summed up our love for her. Out of all the wrong messages Bollywood has conveyed, one message stays the truest that a sister will miss her siblings the most after her marriage. A brother always hopes to show his biggest gesture towards his sister, till one day, on her marriage, he finally has his biggest gesture in front of him which he never wants to make. She jumps to bed, face turned down and cries just like I do, she cries now because I tease her, or fight with her, we cry together when mummy attains the state of an angry women, but I cannot have her crying because we will no longer be together. The most beautiful bond god has ever made. It is a different story that I will laugh so much when that day actually comes. For now, I have just tried being extra melo-dramatic. Vishakha! She is my hope and she is my pride.
Promise to keep making memories together and hold on to memories made together.