True Love

Love means zero or nothing in Tennis. That’s all I can understand from that word. Even though I do ‘love all’, I am far from understanding any romantic love, I think.

I have met a few beautiful (by heart) human beings in Iowa and one among them is Mr. Tom Hysell, my tennis friend. He must be 50 something but he runs like a kid, very athletic, polite, humble, helping and very down to earth person.

This happened sometime in September this year. We both reached the finals of the 3^rd division in the GDMTA play offs. We were supposed to play our final match in that last week of September and convey the results to the organizers. We checked the weather forecast and the only days we found playable were Wednesday and Thursday. He asked me if we could play on Thursday. I checked my calendar and said that I had a project party that evening.

He suddenly sounded nervous and said, “Actually on Wednesday I and my wife have something important”

He requested if we could play on Thursday after the party.

I responded irritatingly, “how do you expect me to play after a party? By the way can’t you postpone your Wednesday plan with your wife?”

“No. Actually it’s important”

“Is that a doctor’s appointment? or a festival?”

“No. none of those. It’s something that we just both do”

“Come on Tom. Could you please request her to postpone that thing? This is the final match you know”

There was a pause. He then said meekly, “I will try Sajid”

He agreed. Rather I made him agree for the Wednesday.

On that Wednesday we started our final match. I was prepared and hitting well. While playing I was seeing some uneasiness in Tom. He wasn’t in his usual mood and wasn’t playing that well too. I sensed that his mind could be somewhere else. But for me winning was important and I beat him in straight sets.

After the match I inquired him if there was anything wrong. He nodded. I felt bit guilty if it was his plan with his wife which was cancelled because of the match.

Then I said, “Sorry Tom. Because of the match you had to forego your plan with your wife. If you don’t mind could you please share it with me?”

He took a deep breath and said, “Every last Wednesday of the month, I and my wife kind of celebrate. Just we both. No reason. We have been doing it since some time now. She cooks something new. I play some instrument and we sing and dance”

That sounded romantic. Then what he said really touched me.

He said, “In the last 25 years, today is the only day we missed our celebration!”

I hadn’t heard something like that before. Apologetically I asked him, “Sorry about that Tom. I am ok to let go this match. We can replay this match tomorrow”. That was the least I could do

“No. You deserved to win today. Tomorrow anyway I will be having the missed celebration with my wife. It’s ok. For a change, we will have it on a Thursday. It will be fun” he said smilingly.

I knew he was a man of words. Since then I somehow feel guilty whenever I see my Trophy.

Haarkar jeetne wale ko baazigar kehte hain !!

Shah Rukh Khan

I refused an onsite(USA) opportunity last year because I wanted to be with my family as my mother and my brother were to perform the Haj pilgrimage. Five million people performing prayers at Kaaba, Mecca was unprecedented.

“Nothing to worry. It’s lot safer and organized these days. Just make sure you are always with Mom” I advised my brother. Even though I sounded confident I was feeling uneasy for Mom who was going away for the 40 day trial amidst half a crore people. Then I learnt about what she felt when I had left the country and lived on the other side of the globe for years.

“It’s all fine here. We have good accommodation. We are praying”, called my brother when they had reached Mecca. In the initial few days, my brother was all charged up. He did Umrah(prayer) for all of us. He pelted stones at Shaitaan at Mina. He went to Arafa and they had spent a night out praying.

“Wow! This place is so amazing! There are people from every other country, esp. Asians and Africans. Those black Africans are so huge you know; but they are harmless. These Turkish women are so strong. They climb the hills so easily. But only Indians and Pakistanis understand Hindi. Others don’t even know English. We mostly talk in sign language. I’m taking lots of photos here”, told my brother on the phone

“Here, the only thing we do is walk. On an average I walk 10 miles per day. When old people go to bed their feet shiver. But I’m making sure Mom isn’t walking much”. I hadn’t liked it much.

After few more days he called me again and said, “I have lost more than 5 kilos. We are away from the Indian camps. Here, we have only Bangladeshis who speak Bengali”

“We have all the facilities here. Mom often complains about her feet hurting. She doesn’t eat much either. Here, the problem is not of physical tiredness. The issue is of communication. We are unable to talk anything to anybody. Whatever we talk is over the phone. Even locals don’t know English. That’s the torture”, told my brother despondently.

“Shut up! This is the place of God. Don’t say like that. It will be lot comfortable once we go to Medina”, I overheard Mom disagreeing with him.

Couple of days later my aunt called me and asked me to call my brother at Mecca immediately.

For a moment I froze. I called his cell, “Hello”

“Hello, Sajid? Nothing major. She is fine.”

“What happened to Mom?”

There was a pause.

“Dehydration and fever. She wasn’t eating; she had stomach pain all of a sudden. Then the temperature rose high. Looking for a hospital”, said my brother meekly
I had never felt more worried ever before. I asked him to give the phone to Mom and I said, “Mom, the only treasure I have is you. Please take a flight immediately and come back. We will say ‘Sorry’ to God”

My eyes were moist.

“Nai Beta. Don’t say like that. It’s a sin. This is the land of my Prophet. I would be lucky if I get to die here” She said. That hurt me like hell. Faith can be such strong!

Before hanging the call, I had told my brother bitterly, “If something happens to her, I am not gonna leave you!”

Then I was so upset that I didn’t call them for next few days. I have no idea how challenging was that for my brother there. He had no one to talk to and no one to help them. But my aunt made sure she called Mom all the time and made her feel good.

Couple of weeks later they landed in Bangalore after completing the pilgrimage. I went and hugged Mom. She was fine and smiling. Then I summed up some courage and asked my brother, “What exactly happened after I hung up the phone that day when Mom was unwell?”

He said, “Oh… That’s pretty interesting. Let me tell you," He continued.

"Then a Malaysian couple came there. We wished each other. I asked, “English?’
The lady said, “No English. Malay. Malay”

“Oh! We Hindi!”

“Hindi?? India??”

“Yes. India”

“Shah Rukh Khan??”

Hearing this, I was pleasantly surprised.
I said enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes. Shah Rukh Khan!!”

“Kuch kuch hota hai??”

“Yes. Kuch kuch hota hai!!”

“Dil……to pagaal hai!?”

“Yes. Dil to Pagal hai!”

 We were so happy that we were smiling broadly at each other. Then suddenly a Pakistani Maulvi warned us, “Shhhhhh.. No movies talk here!”

They offered some sort of juice to Mom, helped me find a hospital and accompanied us till the hospital. Mom recovered fully in 2 days in the hospital”

As he said the above his eyes shone bright.

“God only could have saved us if those Malaysians weren’t there”, sighed my mother.

I then thought, how easily do we accuse the film stars to be selfish and showy but we hardly realize the love and harmony they spread across the world. It’s priceless. SRK surely does it I guess. Even the likes of Amitabh Bachchan, AR Rehman, Sachin Tendulkar transcend every barrier and unite people across the world. Their fans belong to different religions, countries and communities. Even though they speak different languages, they find the language of ‘love’ to communicate.

Earlier my mother didn't have any interest in the movies. Now she adores SRK :-)

Tennis for Beginners

There are four kinds of people who play Tennis. One, who play just for fun; they just want to hit the ball without caring where it would land. Two, who want to reduce and stay in shape. Three, who want to make it big in the world of Tennis. Four, who want to update on FaceBook for the world to see.

Well, it may seem that I belong to the fourth category. But I would say a big NO! I actually belong to category five. I would explain it a bit later.

The other day one of my young friends said that he loved doing Yoga. The other one said he loved to play golf. I said, “I do love Yoga and golf but not now. At this point, I want to play Tennis, lift weights and do sky diving!” I then explained my point to them saying that I want to do things in my youth which I may not be able to do when I’m old. The point I was making was, ‘Youth’ is so precious and let’s do what we love doing before it gets too late.

Anyway, coming back to Tennis, it is a wonderful sport played across the world wherein your performance depends solely on your skills and not on your size. There is no body contact here unlike in Footballs, Basketballs, Kabaddis etc. Even though it’s very physical it’s a clean game. It was in the year 2007 that I held my first racket and would love to share some tips for the aspiring Tennis players. First and foremost requirement for Tennis is that you should be athletic, period. If you aren’t ready to run like a dog on the court then stop reading further.

1.If you have played cricket or TT before, Tennis is not difficult. After all it’s a ball game and ball games aren’t a cake walk. It is very evident that you must have the sense of the behavior of a ball. Take a tennis ball and try throwing it up or catching it or bouncing it off a wall. The idea is to get the feel of how to control a ball

2. Buy a basic racket. You get those $15-20 Wal-Mart rackets. Once you are comfortable with the basics and are ready to switch to power game you can switch to power rackets. Remember that you shouldn’t play power shots with Wal-Mart racket else you might end up developing what is called ‘Tennis Elbow’ just like my friend Baaji

3. Choose a partner whom you are comfortable with. If he/she is better than you then it’s good for you. Buy extra duty tennis balls for hard courts and heavy duty balls for clay courts. I prefer Wilson brand

4. Most basic thing in Tennis is how to grip a racket. There are various grips for various shots viz., Western, Eastern and Continental and so on. Initially start with the Eastern grip for all the shots, that is hold the racket straight perpendicular to the ground.

5. Start playing. Your goal should be to just cross the net and keep the ball in play. One mistake every beginner does is to try to hit hard or try their hand at Serve. Serve is the most difficult shot in Tennis may be after the high backhand shot.

6. After few days, either meet someone who plays well or go to YouTube.com or enroll for few training sessions to learn different grips of rackets. Those grips will enable you to impart spin to the ball. Learning Top spin is a must. It will take lot of time to learn it but with dedication, patience and practice you will get it

7. Once you get a fair idea of forehand, backhand, chop, slice, volley, overhead, lob etc you can take to the Serve. Again you need expert training on this. Else go to YouTube again to see the step by step techniques. Serve if done with improper technique can greet you with a Tennis Elbow

8. Next, the things you need to do is practice, more practice and still more practice. You can change the racket at this stage. Again consult an expert on what tension of the strings suits your game. Start hitting those power shots and those cute drop shots. Don’t try crazy stuff like hot dog and all. Once I tried and hit myself in a wrong place. The idea is to practice regularly and keep improving yourself. Observe yourself or ask someone else to observe you and try correcting your mistakes

9. Tennis is a hard game to master. It will take years before you master every stroke. Dedication is key. In 2007-2008 I used to play tennis a min of 2-3 hours per day without fail for more than a year except when it was peak winter in December-January. Funny thing was I even played in rain. And my fat content of the body was less than 10% then. 'Dedication' is the word. Never panic. Never lose heart if you don’t get those shots right. It took me 4 years to learn different serves with the right technique

10. Meanwhile you can join a league, fancy your chances against the unknown players and make friends. And then the sky is the limit. I tell you, it’s an amazing feeling to hit the ball and see it land precisely where you wanted it to. One more thing, do it while you are young! All the best!!

Now, coming back to what I had said about category 5. Category 5 is for those who play Tennis just for the sheer love of it. I don’t know how to describe it. For them Tennis is religion. I used to watch the sport on TV in the late 80s even before I knew what cricket was all about. May be it was then that I fell in love with it. Fortunately my first love was not a woman. But unfortunately I never got that chance to play in my teens. You know how it is in India. But now I am almost married to it. It’s my only priority in life now until I guess I will no longer be able to run like a dog on the court.

My passion for the sport may look funny, crazy or foolish to people at times. But all I want to say is that, ‘I don’t know any alternate way of living life’! See ya later. Practice Time Now J

PS: I have put the picture of Steffi Graf. I was her biggest fan!

Happy Mother’s Day !!

“kya bolti hai budhiya?” asked Sarma

“Arre Sarmaji, Budhiya ne to mera jeena haraam kar diya hai. Uska Javascript error fix karo, uska defect fix karo, usko query likh ke do and that CAB meeting! She always asks me to represent her CAB meetings!! Pareshaan kar diya hai mujhe. Doctor’s appointment, dentist’s appointment, picking up her grandchildren from school, her pet’s treatment, what not? Why the hell these non-technical people are put into the technical projects?” I snorted

“If you want you can block her in the messenger” Sarma suggested

“No Sarmaji, that doesn’t look good” I replied disappointingly

Lori, I don’t remember her last name, was my project mate in the ING project in Atlanta 3 years ago. She was a business analyst who was put into a technical role. Recession was just creeping in and she had to survive her job and she always yearned for my help. She used to work from home from some state. She was 60+ I guess and we TCS guys nicknamed her ‘budhiya’.

That day she pinged me, “Hi Sajid, could you please represent my change in the CAB today?”

CAB meeting was the Change Approval Board meeting wherein you had to explain your changes which you made to the code and wanted to promote them to production. It’s hardly a 15 min meeting. I was fed up of her and I lied to her saying that I had some other work then. She asked me if Santhosh could represent her in the meeting. I checked with Santhosh. He was already outside as usual.

I just told her, “why can’t you attend the meeting yourself Lori?”

She said, “I am going to the airport this afternoon”

“well..” I said and continued, “you can as well go to the airport after your CAB meeting right?”

There was a pause. Then she said, “This is the most important day of my life. I am going to the airport to pick my son. He is returning from Iraq”

“Iraq?”

“Yes! He is in the Army. He was posted there 2 years back and today he is returning back home”

That really hit me like a lightening! I then realized, how could a mother concentrate on work when her son was fighting for life in Iraq? What would she might be going through in those days? Why the hell do these political wars take place risking human lives? Why the hell do these so called civilized societies indulge in the barbaric act of killing innocent lives ?

Then I told Lori, “Lori, please go ahead and receive your son. I would attend your CAB for rest of my life. I swear”!! Sarma overheared my conversation from the next cubicle. From that day we never called her ‘budhiya’ !!

A Sweet Love Story..

“Thank you bro. ye sab tere waja se huwa. But please do call her. She wants to thank you badly”, said my cousin Sam over the phone yesterday. How I wished I was there. This is the drawback of living in the US. But nothing could stop my train of thoughts. The year old flashback filled my eyes while I stood at my patio sipping coffee.

It was exactly a year before when I had visited my hometown Byadgi. I had stopped believing in love then; at least until that weekend. I have a very big family back home. But I am close to two of my cousins. Sam and Shahid. It’s like whenever I go there, they abandon everything and come running to me. Sam is my father’s 3rd brother’s son. He is my age; looks very handsome, a graduate who does business. He is naïve. I treat him like my younger brother. Shahid is again my father’s immediate brother’s son. He is a school dropout and much notorious to say the least; he is five years younger to me. He is like Sarkit if I am Munna.

That Sunday we three went to the top of the hill and were seating on a rock. The wind was thumping across our face and we could see the entire town from there.

“Wish we had got some beer” said Shahid opening the sachet of Manikchand.

“Vo ‘Yes’ boli last month. Since then I have gone mad” Sam prodded me.
I didn’t respond.

“Please help karna, kaise proceed karna bolko” he sounded enthusiastic.

“I don’t want to talk about love, relations, girls etc. I am bugged. Jo dil mein aaye vo kar” I didn’t care.

“Nai ba. Ino dono seriously love mein hain. Shaadi ka bhi plan kar dale” Shahid showed sympathy towards Sam.

I turned to Sam and asked “Are you serious?”

“Yes. We have decided. But I can confirm only when I meet her”

“What the fuck? Are you mad? Why haven’t you met her yet?" I was confused

“hahaha uss ladki ko ye bhi maloom nai ki how Sam looks” Shahid gave some crucial info. I stared at Sam. He then explained to me.

Sam was a simple and shy boy. He had never interacted with any girl before. But sooner he had learnt that those days every ass**le was falling in love, he didn’t want to be left behind. He saw his sister’s classmates’ group photo and started liking a girl. With lots of guts he started messaging her. They fell in love in due course of two to three months. The girl hadn’t seen him. She had said that even if he looked 'Johny Liver' she would still love him. hahaha Sounded funny. The reason they didn’t meet was, they were scared to death. It was quite understandable. They both belonged to two different small towns where people were too orthodox and narrow minded. If her parents saw her roaming with a guy they would judge him. If his parents saw him going around with a girl then they would definitely judge her.

“Phone laga” I said to Sam

“Kisse?”

“Teri ladki ko. Ask her to take a bus and come to the highway bus stop” I said

“Unhe bahut darti. She won’t come”

“Tell her to tell her parents that she has to rush to the college for some certificate problem. Aur usse bol ki, agar vo tujhse pyar karti hai to abhich aaja. You are meeting her now” I said

Sam called her and after couple of minutes cut the call and gave a half hearted smile and said, “You made me tensed now. Ruk ruk. I need to change”

“Pehli date hai to ready hona maangta hai na” Shahid chuckled

We took our bikes and left the hill. Sam got ready in 15 minutes. Shahid was always ready. He doesn’t even change while going to bed. We took our bikes, bought a rose and some chocolates. Highway was nearly 5-6 km from the town.

“15 minute mein reach hoti kathe” Sam shouted sitting behind me.

“Sajid, usse gaadi challaane de. He should look hero in front of her no?” Shahid gave his idea.

“Unhe isse ab tak nai dekhi. How can she figure out?” I explained. Then I got an idea in my dirty head. I turned to Shahid and asked him to meet her saying he himself was Sam. Sam supported the plan. We wanted to see the fun. Hearing the idea of going and confronting a girl, Shahid pissed in his pants. Hence I agreed to meet her. I took Sam’s phone and slid in my pocket.

I stood at the remote bus stop. Both my cousins hid far behind a vehicle. There were hardly people around. Then I saw a tall, thin burkha clad girl getting down from a bus. I could hardly see her eyes, feet and hands. Sam had told that she was in her early twenties, had completed diploma and was looking for a job. He had also told that he addressed her as ‘honey’.

I went and stood next to her. She took out her phone and dialled Sam’s number. The phone rang in my pocket. I took it out and showed it to her. Since I can impersonate voices it wasn’t difficult for me to mimic Sam.

“Hi Honey. It's me; Sam” I said as romantically as possible. I continued “achchi lag rahi hain aap”. By the way it sounded funny complimenting a woman wearing a burkha.
She raised her head, looked at me for a millisecond, and then put her head down. I saw the flow of tears from her eyes. She started crying. I got scared.

“kya huwa? Something wrong? Did I do anything wrong?” I asked her confusingly

“Nai. Kya bhi nai. Nothing?”

“phir? Why are you crying?”

She was quiet. Then she said “aap finally aaye na. isliye”

Then I realized, those were the tears of joy. But I felt horrible that she had to shed her tears for a waste guy like me. Then I looked at her hands. She was fiddling with them. I glared at them closely. To my surprise they were slightly shivering.

‘Jeez! this girl really loves this Sam’. I felt guilty

“dekho, I am sorry. Really sorry. Ye ek prank tha. Main Sam nahi hoon. Unhe wahan hai..” I ran from there. Thank God that I hadn’t given the rose to her.

Sam came out giggling and asking “kya boli? Kya boli?”

I didn’t laugh. While he was about to move towards her, I said “dekh, she loves you. Please uska dil mat todna. Please don’t leave her. Agar tu usse shaadi nai karega to, I will never help you again” I didn’t know if he understood me then.

He went to her. I stood away with Shahid. After five minutes a bus arrived. It was heading to Haveri city. Sam called on my phone and yelled “come. Tumhe dono bhi bus mein chalo”

I said “no. you people get in first”

They got into the bus. I neared the bus. Sam took the window and she had sat next to him. He was cursing me slyly for not accompanying him in the bus. Finally when the bus moved he waved his hand. I signaled him about the rose. He signaled back saying he would give later.

“Don’t forget to hold her hand you idiot” I shouted.

I and Shahid stood there back. He suggested if we should go and have some beer. I refused.

After one hour, I got a call on my cell. It was a girl

“Assalam alaikum bhayya”

“Who’s is this?” I didn’t recognize the voice

“It’s honey” she replied with a smile. I felt she must have smiled. You feel it when someone smiles on phone.

“oh.. how are you? Kahan hain tum dono?”

“Humein yahan coffee shop mein hain”

“Cool. Phir. Aap mujhe maaf kare na? Sorry, It was a prank”

“It’s ok bhayya. Actaully thanks for helping us meet”

“Arre Bhaayee hai mera. Suno. Tum dono baat karo. Isme darne ki kya bhi baat nai.
Phir decide karo. Ye tumahri zindagi hai. Once tumhe confirm karo to shaadi karani ki responsibility meri. Agar tumahre dad kuch panga kare to…”

I wanted to say “Agar tumhare dad panga kare to ek kheencho kaan ke neeche detun”
Instead I said “Agar tumhare dad panga kare to main unke pair pakadko request kartun”

“Bahut bahut Thanks bhayya.” She sounded happy

I smiled at her innocent happiness.

“suno, vo idiot tumna rose diya ya nai abhi tak? “

She gave a pause and said shyly “diye”

After couple of months I touch based with them to know their decision. They said they would love to marry each other; in other words they loved to marry each other. Then I asked each of them to convey to their respective parents.

Like any other bollywood movie the hell broke loose. Till then no one had ever had a ‘love marriage’ in our family. For the next six months there were denials from both the families. The other day Sam called me. He was in tears. He said his girl was depressed. I had almost sensed that he was about to give up. I told him, “You would know the price of first love only when you lose it”
Then I traveled to my hometown again. I, Shahid and Sam’s sister had a secret meeting and we decided that I would convince Sam’s parents, my uncle and aunt and Sam’s sister’s would persuade his GF’s parents.

Meanwhile Shahid tracked and threatened couple of Arranged-Marriage kind of guys who had seen her and agreed to marry her. Her parents wanted to get her married ASAP.

Sam’s father loves me a lot. I went to him and asked ‘Chacha, do you want a daughter in law or do you want your son? The choice is yours”

He melted finally. Sam’s sister cajoled the girl’s parents. It took almost few months.

And yesterday was Sam’s engagement with his honey. The wedding would be after few months I guess.

I really have no idea why I helped my cousin. I don’t know.

The best experience in the world is to fall in love and the most painful experience is to separate from one’s love. My cousin had experienced the best thing and I didn’t want my lovely bro to experience the painful part then. May be my happiness lied in making him happy. May be the pain which kills you every moment, I thought my cousin and his innocent girl didn’t deserve. I don’t know.

But today I am the most happiest person in the world. Today was the only day when I forgot my own pain.

This is about the sweet love story of my cousin. I call it sweet because there’s ‘honey’ involved :-)

By the way, Shahid too called me and said, “how about some beer?” hahaha. I love this Bastard!!

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Khatar Naak – What’s in a Nose?

Since this blog is on ‘nose’, it may well sound like a kindergarten essay. Well, most of us hardly care about our noses, sometimes we squeeze every inch of it when we catch cold, and some other times when we do this ‘kapaalbhaati’ of Baba Ramdev, we play with our nostrils. And some women try these nose rings. But for me it is much more than that.

I don’t know about other guys but the first thing I notice when I see a woman is her nose. Of course same goes when I happen to see men as well. It’s not surprising at all if you catch me staring at people’s noses. The reason being, I believe, apart from eyes, the one organ which defines one’s beauty is the NOSE.

Everyone craves for that perfect nose. Even though there is nothing called a perfect nose, I feel a perfect nose is the one which is straight, sharp which is called ‘aquiline’. Actually the nose should suit ones face or personality. There are beautiful people across the world who don’t possess a great nose, few examples are Aishwarya Rai, Salman khan, Brad Pitt or Angelina. There are people who I think have very bad noses, like Priyanka Chopra or Sreedevi. There are people who have really long noses, like Saif Ali Khan, Kannada actor Dr. Rajkumar etc.

If we notice people across the world, we see that people who have this aquiline nose are Europeans, Americans, Australians, Arabians, Pakistanis and North Indians. Most of the South Indians typically have shorter and sometimes blunt noses. And Chinese? Do they have a nose first of all? The people whom I mentioned above had a common origin as Proto-Indo-Europeans who lived sometime in 6000-7000 B.C. They invaded Europe (then in turn the USA, OZ, NZ), Middle East and North India as Aryans. I think all these people predominantly have a similar nose. I may be wrong as well, but it is just my observation.

One Indian who I think has the best nose is, Chitrangada Singh! Hands down! It’s a piece of art. There are many Indians who have great noses. Few I think are Akshay Kumar, Katrina Kaif, Sonu Sood, this new guy Aditya Roy Kapoor etc. Hrithik Roshan has too sharp a nose but his nostrils are flared a bit. Most of the Hollywood celebrities and sportsmen do have that ‘the nose’ which takes my breath away. I think Shah Rukh Khan doesn’t have a conventional nose, but many (including me) find it very sexy. He once said that girls find him attractive because of his nose. Well, may be. Some of my friends who I feel have very good noses are Sowmya, Chaitra, Sathya, Dr. Amit and so on.

What about me? I don’t know. Mine is bit longer(pun unintended) and few people have told me that it looks sexy. Well, I am sounding pompous here. Whatever it is, I got my nose from my mother and she got it from my grandmother and my granny said she got from her mother. My grandmother said her ancestors must have migrated somewhere from north, but she is not sure. Well, my father’s ancestors are original South Indians.

Unfortunately none of my ex-girl friends had great noses. May be that was the reason why they lost me :-) hahaha. Even my best friend, Bebo doesn’t have a good nose. You just show me a babe with ‘the nose’, however ugly she is; I bet I would fall in love with her instantly.

Last week I met my 4th grade classmate online after 20 years. When she had asked if I remembered her, I had replied, ‘I remember your nose though’. This obsession of mine about noses, this poking my nose in others’ noses may pretty much look unusual, but I can only say ‘I don’t know’. Nose is my weakness. Sounds very funny. I am funny myself.

Now all of you, stop checking out your noses. Ignore my crazy thoughts. Your noses are just alright. :-) Have a blast !!

Infinite Synonyms of 'Death' in Urdu – Experience Certainty!!

Last night I traveled back to my home from Bangalore. In the train, my train of thoughts revolved around the funny people and the funny language of my home town, Byadgi. There, Muslims speak Urdu; it’s actually Dakhani Urdu which is spoken in the southern states of the country (Also called Shivajinagar Hindi in Bangalore, remember Professor Ulfat Sultan? :-)). Its pronunciation and grammar varies slightly from the standard Urdu and it has many words loaned from the regional languages. To my surprise I found that the synonyms (different ways of saying) of ‘He’s dead’ or ‘died’ seemed to be infinite in Urdu in my native. Here goes the list below:

Mar Gaya
Maut Huwi
Jaan Gayi
Saans Gayi
Wafaat Huwi
Inteqaal Huwa
Guzar Gaya
Rooh Qabz Huwa
Jannat Naseeb huwa
Allah Ko Pyara Huwa
Parda Farmaya
Dum Todya
Khallas Huwa
Oopar Gaya
Halaq Huwa
Gaya
Poth Huwa
Out Huwa
Spot Huwa
Death Huwi
Thanda Padhya
Gardan Satya
Uth Gaya
Aankhen Moochya
Hamesha Humna Chhodko Gaya
Mauta Huwa
Aakhri Saans Liya
Gotak Kaya
Dhamaar Huwa
Wicket Gaya
Chhati Phod Liya
Chala Gaya
Rooh Nikal Gayi
Akad Gaya
Duniya Chhodya
Ticket Kadaya
Right Huwa
Soya So Uthyach Nai
Ab Nai Raha
Bachyach Nai
Duniya Chhodya
Alla Ke Paas Gaya
Bejaan Huwa
Kalme Ka Paani Naseeb Huwa
Kalma Padhya
Aunda Huwa
Dola Uthya
Surat Ku Surma Likhe
Munda Mooche
Shaheed huwa
Angothe Bandhe
Kya Bhi Bolyach Nai
So Koch Chhodya
Nas Band Padi
Dhadkan Ruk Gayi
Khatam Huwa
Bachchyan Ko Yateem Karya
Janaze Ki Namaz Padha Liya
Bolyach Nai
Ludak Gaya
Tapak Gaya
Kaam Huwa

And Finally...
Inna Lillahi Wa Ina Ilaihi Rajivoon !

Jesus !! It looks to be never ending !! (There still could be many more which I am not aware of)

Now, while death has so many synonyms, I don’t see many synonyms for ‘Birth’. If a baby is born, I haven’t heard any other usage other than ‘Bachcha Paida Huwa’. As simple as that. It could be true in any other language as well. Is it something to ponder about? Yes.

Well, in our society, ‘death’ is given so much focus or importance while birth is very common phenomenon. I feel the reason being, people fear death, and it runs so much on people’s mind. They get scared about it so much so that majority of the population in the world turns religious when it becomes old. I think there is no point in fearing death at all. No one can escape it. It’s like ‘Experience Certainty’ :-).

I think we should have the heart to face death with dignity and sense of reality and humor. Then only can we relish the beauty and joy of life. Often, people don’t die because of an injury or an ailment; they perish due to the fear of death. Most of the times, I joke about death with my friends and brothers. That’s how I could think about those 60+ synonyms of death. I know, you may complain that I am being so much cozy about death because I have got my 5 million rupees insurance policy active. I guess true, hence I recommend all of you to insure your life at the earliest. Hope your life rules your mind and not your death. LIC's Jeeavan Amulya ki jai!!

By the way when I die, I want people to say, "Vo Zindagi Jee Gaya” :-)

A Tribute to Gandhiji

After seeing the likes of Kalmadi, Raja, Chavan, Yeddy and Reddi brothers, Americans come to know that Indian Politicians are nothing but just slefish, corrupt and heinous b**tards. USA decides that India is too vulnerable a country and hence attacks it and makes its colony.
Just like the British rule in the past, the country witnesses the American rule this time.

In Bangalore, the US administration decides to change or modify the names of few places as per their pronunciation/understanding. The list goes below..

Eajipura - Easy Pura

Domlur - Dumb lur

Jayanagar - Joy Nagar

Laksandra - Luck Sandra(Sandra as in Sandra Bullock)

Jaksandra - Jack Sandra

Bomsandra - Bum Sandra

Bhoopsandra - B**b Sandra ;-)

Marathalli - Marta Halli

Yalahanka - You All Hunk Huh ?

Madiwala - My Diva La

Yashwantpur - Yes Want Pure

Hoody - Howdy

Koramangala - Core Mangla

Shivaji Nagar - She Wow Jee Nagar / Schwarzzenegger

Alsur - All Sore ?

Peenya - Pain ya

Basawanagudi - Bus Van Goody

hosa road - whose ya road

Shikari palya - Shakira Palya :-) lol

But the two areas which the Americans won't touch at all will be... Any guesses?

They will be..."Gandhi Nagar" and "MG Road", Because 'Gandhi' is the only Indian thing that all the Americans know about India(of course another is the Taj)
While the people from the other side of the globe adore and respect the greatest man ever born in India(some may argue it as Rama or Budhdha or Tendulkar) so much, I utterly wonder why can't our beloved politicians follow even 2% of his ideals. Shame !

Anyway, Planning to meet my old(PGS) friends today. Got to catch a bus to Dumblur oops... did I say Domlur? :-)