Sunday, June 28, 2009


Fragrance has this great power to trigger off memories. Each fragrance has an identity of its own, a soul that brings it alive in our minds eye.
I still remember the fragrance of new books for the new session, that had the power to attract the enthusiasm that made me look forward to cover them with crisp brown paper, irrespective of my mothers apprehension of spoiling them.
The fragrance of a new doll on my birthday, covered with a glittering wrapping paper and given to me with a big smile, though I might have forgotten the fragrance of the new doll, but the fragrance of the people that filled my life with love can never be forgotten.
The fragrance of ponds dream flower talc which then came in a steel bottle, was one of my favourite, I could relish it in my nani's dupatta, covering which I have spent many peaceful nights.
The fragrance of the earth when it comes in contact with the first few drops of rain, hugging them lovingly and dancing with joy,sharpening each and every feature of the earth, making the green go greener and caressing the paper boats that float with delight.
The fragrance of a new morning like the one of a new born, new in every sense of the word, fresh like a pleasant breeze that gives a new beginning..a new meaning to life.
There are so many things that have the familiar fragrance, one that refreshes our life and gives it its lost colour, though each fragrance has a unique identity, it merges within and generates a new energy .

As I smelled the air,It felt new today,
what is it that made it new?
a new victory or a new despair,
But whenever I pass the long lost lanes,
I know for sure that its a game,
a game of life, to renew the old,
a few cherished memories, a throbbing soul,
it is in life that I take delight,
the secrets piled in a secretive light,
the fragrance of new, the young, the old,
Gives my life the value of gold.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Loving Ways :)

Thud! went the bottle of coconut oil and a chair was pulled out in the sun. A pile of hair came down on her shoulders as she got ready to massage her hair in the everwelcomed winter sunlight. "Look if he's up ! " said grandma, "who?", I asked..."Your nana(grandpa)"."But why can't you take his name?", leaving her trapped in my question, I got busy playing with my blocks, trying hard to make a house with several unsuccessful efforts. "No, I can't!" came a stern reply. "But why?"I asked, giving her a questioning look, "because women are not supposed to take their husbands name."replied grandma, with a bit of irritation in her voice. "But mamma talks to pa directly?". Now tired of dealing with the storm of questions, my grandma lowered her face, narrowed her eyes and gave out a few but solid words.."are you going or not?"Though it was very rare with nani to get angry at anyone, but when she did, it was better to be on the safer side, therefore to cling on to the safe mode I jumped up and ran across the veranda to see if nana had risen from his long slumber.He was quite good when it came to sleeping, one can say he was a champion at that. On the day of his funeral when so many people had stories as to how he had helped them in life, I just thought whether he was doing it during his sleep?:)Thoughthere was a tight schedule that he followed and when he was busy, no one could be near his den(thats what we called it,though his grandchildren were born with a forever access card, it was the elders who had to suffer;)
As I came back with an affirmative reply, My grandma's open hair went straight back into a bun as she quickly headed towards the kitchen to prepare his breakfast..two slices of bread with a half fried egg..the only thing he ate with piping hot cup of tea.
There was something about my grandma's cooking that I can never forget..a different aroma, a simple but amazing taste and yes stuffed with loads of love. Whenever I came to her in the morning, I knew that she is going to say those magical words, "go, there's something for you on the dining table."Even a simple bread pakora stuffed with nothing at all, tasted heavenly! I still remember how she introduced me with my first piece of cheese. My grandparents house was a great place for me and my cousins to play hide and was still is..though Ive grown big in every sense of the word, but I think certain addictions never leave you, and I am happy they don' one day I was just playing alone as there was no one else to play with and decided that I would spend my time watching kites from the the terrace was a forbidden not allowed kind of a place, so grandma never allowed me to go upstairs, except on certain fortunate occasions, when she had some work. So I got all prepared to request her for allowing me to go upstairs, being my grandma, she smelled the mischief and called me to the dining area, I went there with hurried steps, maybe this was my lucky day, may be she would grant me permission! There she was, with something wrapped in a silver foil.."come here, I'll give you some cheese to eat", "kya cheese?"I asked her..."Cheese, cheese!here you go!"
Thats how I got to eat my first piece of cheese and love it till date.
After nana was through with his breakfast, he too joined us in the lawn...while grandma got busy with her hair massage, as the coconut oil had melted by now and I got busy with the colourful blocks....the colour which makes my memories beautiful till date, nana got busy reading the newspaper along with his hookkah (a beautiful Indian version of a smoking pipe).
Yesterday as I was driving home after work, I heard a joke on the radio, which made me think as to how things have changed...the joke was on men, who become donkeys after marriage and thats precisely why women call them "AG"..the full form of which according to them should be "abe gadhe"(you donkey). Though I've never heard women calling there husbands "AG"(atleast not in the current scenario),but the joke did take me to the time when my grandma refused to take my grandpas name, out of her respect and love for him, or just "aap", if needed to be addressed directly and same was the case with grandpa. But the only difference was that he did take grandmas name most lovingly but that too was followed with an "aap". At that time I just could'nt figure out as to why this was the case, but today I 've understood the real reason, its a fact that would always be true...Respect and love are the two most essential ingredients for a beautiful it any, and this was one way through which my grandparents expressed their love and respect for eachother :)

Sunday, June 14, 2009

The steps that never returned

Its surprising that one event follows another in such a way that we are left totally numb. Recently I had described the friendship between my grandfather and his friend and today,I'd say that my grandpa has made his way to the heavenly abode,to be even closer to God and start a life which we can just think of ...the hereafter.
We attach ourselves to people, thinking that they are a permanent source of strength for us, its human nature to do that, but we forget something..a vital fact that we should accept and believe in..nothings premanent in this world,except for God, I am scared that the way we are making things work in the beautiful world that he has blessed us with, in no time even he would also say..I have had enough! Hope he doesn't , coz if that happens, we would actually be left with nothing at all.Lets make this world a beautiful place and pray that the God showers his blessings on us forever and ever.
Initially I had created this blog to compile all that my grandpa had to say about history and his various experiences, time passed and he became a bit repetitive, thus I was unable to do what I had initially planned and now its just impossible. But I am sure about one thing, he would always be alive through the values that he has left behind, for us as grandchildren and for his children to imbibe and lead a better life, may be now through this blog I would narrate the beautiful words that have become a part of my being..May God Bless His Soul. Amen
(He was taken to the hospital on the 29th of May 09 and passed away on the 12th of June 09)

When you were taking those steps out of the house,
Somehow I knew, you would not return;

When you looked at me and no words came out,
Somehow I knew you would not return;

When they took you in their care, claiming that everything would be alright,
Somehow I knew you would not return;

When you were in a tussle to survive;
Somehow I knew you would not return;

I knew it from the start and yet I believed,
may be life has more for you to see,
and now when you have closed your eyes,
my thoughts have stopped in disbelief,
the only promise that I want from you,
is to guide me wherever I might be,
coz you might have left for the other world,
but my heart is where you'd always be.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

The Eternal and Everlasting

Its amazing how relationships work, it feels like there is an automatically generated attachment that develops between people.
Unable to judge whats going on in the world, my grandpa told me something that left me quite zapped.
Yesterday I got the news of one of his friends demise, he was residing in a totally different city and both he and grandfather hadn't met each other for a long time now, but friendship is such a bond that has the power to transgress any amount of distance that exists between people. His friend I am sure was always a part of grandpa's prayers.
I remember all the stories that grandpa used to share with me and still does, he told me how he and his friends wrote innumerable plays and acted in them, the locality and the area nana lives in was a part and parcel of Jamia University and thus their life beamed with all sorts of cultural activities, there were plays, festive celebrations, be it Eid, Holy, Christmas. Nana (grandpa) got all excited when he narrated the various incidences, it looked as if a little child is narrating his days activities..he said, "and then we got the real buffaloe on stage, can you believe it!a real buffaloe, I made the village people sit on stage and gave my hukkah to one of them to smoke, like real villagers do..and the play became an instant hit." He sat in one corner, with his transistor, which was a great source of entertainment in those days and wrote innumerable plays, which unfortunately got lost with time.
While nana had a different life he shared this common interest with his friend Habib Tanvir (1 September 1923 – 8 June 2009) a popular Hindi playwright, theatre director, poet and an actor. Nana still remembers his role as a hawker in one of Tanvir Sahabs plays Agra Bazar..he had become a "kakri wala".With a sudden deterioration in his health, I never realised that nana would ever be aware of whats going on in the world, though he keeps surprising me time and again, but this time he shocked me beyond words.
When I got the news of his friends demise, everyone in the family decided that the sad news should not reach his ears at any cost since it would disturb him even more. With loads of thoughts flocking my mind I went and sat next to him, after a general talk about the daily happenings, he poured out the words..which most term as hallucination..."You know beta,Tanvir Sahab came to me last night, he was a great friend and I hope he gets a good place in the hereafter"...I was left zapped..every effort of hiding the news from him had gone in was a few day ago that I had seen him reciting the dialogues of the play.
Certain things in life are beyond explanation and there is no term to describe them, the more we try to know about them, the more confused we become, therefore leaving things to what they are is the best we can do.
The bond of friendship travels across borders, it has the power to bridge any gap that ever exists, it links one heart to another, creating such strong bonds that become eternal and everlasting.

Monday, June 1, 2009

An Awakening

Venerate life in all its forms,
distinct and pristine as it was born,
through endeavours that wreaked havoc on its fragile skin,
making it deplete in the storms self formed.
Pristine it was and would have been,
if the tides of humanity had been soothing.
Though the impure tags along,
a few pores of truth, have a short sojourn.
I, a dilapidated soul, when asked for repentance,
it stretched its arms to take me in,
and then I realised what a fool I was,
never saw the path,
towards a New Beginning.