Category Archives: People
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.
Who are best friends? People who you trust with anything and everything. People who are your helpline/emergency services; an ambulance when you’re hurt, a brigade when you’re angry, and the police when problems befall on you. There’s a future connotation to this term, “Best Friend” because when you refer someone as such, you believe they’ll forever stay in your lives. Also, the most unique thing about them, which can be said with utmost conviction, is that they’ve seen your extremes, and might be the only ones to experience it. And probably, the concept of best friend gets whitewashed when we become 15-16, because till this time, they’re probably your ‘soul sister’ or ‘brother from another mother.’ They are a part of your family, and sometimes, your only family – a home away from home.
My best friend. He was my senior at school, and I may even land up being his junior again in college, but never in this ten years of friendship has he ever let me feel this junior | senior thing. Though, I’ve studied all my school with his books and thus, every year before the new session begun I realized that I was his junior, but that were the only times when it happened. He never imposed his seniority, but has been my elder brother and my guardian to guide me through difficult times, to help me with any little experience of his, or simply to tell me the sums and examples which are important for preparation before maths exam.
Our friendship kick started more so like an arrange marriage. Our mothers, having been friends since their school life, wanted their sons to know each other and so we did. The first month into our friendship, was driven by my excitement of having to associate with a senior, a very big achievement when you’re in junior school. So, it happened with the hand cricket we played going to school and back, given we had the same carpool, that our friendship got a name. The best friend branding came during the week long summer camp at junior school when I was in class 4. “Ek din tum le aana bacchon ko, ek din hum le aayenge”, said her mother to my mother. The first day, when aunty picked us up was the day I was introduced to my second home. He did not want me to go home, I did not want to leave. The next day, he came to my home. And? And he started crying because he wanted to go home. Thus, a best friendship between an introvert and an extrovert. (Not entirely an introvert, but just reserved for some special people.)
Post-summer camp, if there was one place where I wanted to go, so eagerly, was to his house carrying along with me my blue or sunflower CD case for computer games we played at his house. Then there was the indoor cricket we played where I always believed he is cheating with the rules because it isnt humanly possible for him to win all the series of indoor cricket matches we have played till date. It also means two things: a) I am that bad at cricket when we play against each other. b) He is that good at cricket when he plays with any freaking person/team and anywhere, be it my terrace, any other terrace or a ground. Then there was the indoor football, where atleast I hoped to win some few games over him because we made our own rules meaning he cannot cheat.
Own rules, own ways, own conventions are a thing so unique to each best friendship, which may find respect among others or mostly be found silly by anyone coming to terms with. For example, while going to school each morning, we sat on parallel window seats, and talk rarely, and hum the latest bollywood songs and then used to physically fight with each other just randomly out of fun.
About more of our ways; we don’t talk at all when we have exams or we haven’t watched a movie together. There was one time we were laughing so hard that his brother told us, “Khud ka pet kamm parr gaya toh ek doosre ka pet pakarr ke hass lo” and… we actually did that and kept doing that because it made us laugh even louder. Best friendships clearly mean having a person who is your perfect type of damaged, as damaged as you are.
I still keep going to his home though now when I enter his home, he’ll tell his mother, “Phirse khaana khaane aa gaya!” For the past three years, the story has been the same and I doubt if his mother has finally agreed with him. No, mummy is super-nice. [You stop using ‘Aunty’ for your friend’s mother after so many years of friendship.]
After 10 years of such friendship am I expressing my gratitude and feelings for him, but his expression of such feelings came on his birthday, his first with me. 18th September became one of the most important days of my every year, since then. We went to Kumartuli Park to play cricket. All of his friends fought amongst each other, as to who will become the captain. There he came, to say one of the cutest things he has ever said in his life; “Chetan aur Sarvesh mera best friends hai. Unlog hi captain banega.” Sreeeejan! Yes, my best friend: Sreejan Tharad.
Talking about his birthday, we’ve been with each other on our every birthday, whatever the time period be, but never celebrated it like best friends do. We’ve rarely gifted each other anything except for a photo frame I gave him once, and he gave me an orange weekender shirt which I always wore it to his house. Its been 7-8 years to those two gifts we exchanged and I still can recount them so well. Our friendship, strangely, never found its meaning in gifts.
Best Friends are those people who are the only ones who have the key to your secret life. They are your chamber of secrets. The most fundamental secret to teenagers is the girl in his/her life. So, it happened after dispersal one afternoon that Sreejan walked up to me…
Sreejan: Chetan? Tumko ho kya gaya hai? Poora din online rehta hai. Pyaar wyaar ho gaya hai kya?
I was in class 7 then. I blushed like mad. I nodded. He laughed at my reaction. We went mad over the prospect of a girl in my life.
This small conversation trasported us to a whole new dimension. Our conversations’ wind now flew from anywhere to anywhere. He reciprocated his respect for friendship, by telling about his crush. First crushes or first loves are always overwhelming but it wouldn’t have been so if we did not play cupid to each other. We stalked our crushes, advised ways to impress them, sought any positive signals from the other side and once this positive signal came, our each syllable danced to its own tune.
Legends say, girl ruins friendships. Experiences say, girl strengthens best friendship. We have the key to our secret life, and also have been the key to each other’s secret life and if I go on to talk more about it, my relatives reading this blog would probably get me out of my home. 😀
Best Friends are also your ‘quick dial’ for your small-but-still-big problems or your extreme emotions. Sreejan, too, is my first-person-to-go-to-in-times-of-crisis but he is just my first person to call, he isn’t my first person to talk to which is by virtue of his habit of not picking up calls in the first dial. Mood offs indicate wrong times, but I feel so much wrong with this wrong time because he’ll be never available to take my call then. And I will always call him, still.
Computers have been a significant part in our friendship, as will be the case with every relation in the modern era. My computer’s incompatibility with the high graphics game can be cited a major reason for our bonding, for I ran with my CDs to his home. I still remember how we stalked our crushes from his computer, hiding the computer screen from his mother and suddenly referring the girl by a boy’s name. You’re never a guest at your best friend’s house and so was the case here as he never cared if I even got a chair to sit in front of the computer. You’re never decent in behaviour towards your best friend and so was the case when I dug my fingers below his hand placed on the mouse.
And then Facebook was a continual discovery of each other’s madness.
He has been sunky with me, fell on the ground laughing, cried on my shoulder, laughed hard holding my stomach, hit me on my legs, [He has some brute power!] got irritated and angry at me and in all this, he has been a person you will always want to seek company of.
His love and respect towards me has many a time left me in awe;
Class 10 just started. Elections already had happened. I was running for the post of the Head Boy. He was so passionate in his support, that it seemed he fulfilled his dreams with me getting a post. This was such an overwhelming feeling for me. Before he got to know and even before it was announced, he started to fill my Facebook wall with his congratulatory posts. Larka heera hai!
I’ve told him, I am writing something for him on my blog.
“Usme last mein yeh bhi likh dena ki He wont be reading this at all” Sreeeejan! Yes, my best friend: Sreejan Tharad.