इक नया दिन आ गया,
ये नई एक सुबह है
जो कल ढला था शाम की चादर में,
वह सूरज आज लौटा नहीं।

मगर उजाला आज साफ-साफ है
कोई तो आया ही होगा
चौराहे पर वो लोग तड़के,
तुझे सूरज ही कह गए...

एक नई उमंग हो तुम,
जैसे सर्द हवाओं में
कोई गर्म साँस देके मेरी
ठंडी हथेली में जान फूँकता हो...

ऐसी पाक आखें तेरी-
जैसे तपते आसमाँ के तले,
इक विशाल वृक्ष
बैठाए हो किसी मासूम के
टूटे नन्हें बदन को -
शीतल छाँव-सी मिलती है इनमे....

किसी हीरे से तो बने हो,
कि मेरी ज़िंदगी की रात में
तारे से चमकते हुए,
कभी झिलमिल, कभी ओझल,
तुम इतनी दूर से मेरे संग-संग,
कर रहे हो तय
ये मेरा मुश्किल सफर,
पर है मुझको खबर।

तुम्हारे जिगर से रौशनी की एक डोर
इस जहाँ तक आती है
मेरे मन को वो छू जाती है
कुछ इस तरह, के जैसे झूम के गिरती है
बारिश की वो मदहोश बूँद
पत्तियों की गोद में...

ये देखते ही देखते
मुझे यकीन-सा होने लगा है
मेरे ही बनाये इस ख्यालों के जहाँ में,
संभाल के ज़रा रखना
ये मेरा काँच सा सपना
तुम्ही ने जो सजाया है
तुम्हारे पास है गिरवी रखा
मेरी इस जान के बदले।

My Friend's Wedding

Ah! What a title....it sounds like its been stolen but you know its not stolen exactly and you know its close...Nevermind, I chose this cuz I think it fits well.

Middle of this week, I hopped into a train to leave for Chandigarh - a city which serves as the capital to two states in India namely Punjab and Haryana (Good Lord! and they are not fighting about it? Is our country getting better at sharing n caring?). Anyway, it was my friend's wedding in Jalandhar which is 146 Kms from Chandigarh.

My introduction to anything Punjabi in terms of celebrations began with the very famous 'Sangeet' ceremony. Its what we all fondly call a dancing 'function'. People sing aloud..wait let me re-phrase....People sing ALOUD. (sorry ji, joke tha!) And some other more confident people also dance. I loved all the singing and dancing. It was a small gathering where the bride - my dear friend- was the most excited participant. She innocently told me it hadn't yet dawned upon her that tomorrow is her wedding day. The funniest thing is that, I think, it never did at all even after the wedding!

I sang along in Punjabi (I got the key words which were repeated periodically..lemme show you...Oye sale lagi hai, Dhai Ane, Oye kudi da mama, Dhai Ane, Koi lelo isko, Dhai Ane, Mainu nai jachnda, Dhai Ane and more....It was easy to echo Dhai Ane everytime.), I danced and I got henna drawings on my hand, in other words the Mehendi. I love the mehndi, I got it after almost a decade I guess. Later in the Sangeet party, all the dancing was accompanied by doorstep serves of Tequila shots. I choose not to drink but my friend tells me, there's nothing more heavenly than dancing carefree with all those tequila shots coming right into your mouth. I am happy for her.

The next day, the bride and her two friends (one of them is me, of course) set off for Jalandhar. There are stories to tell but I guess I want to wrap this up so I'm gonna hurry-up. We reached the venue talking about life, love and marriage. All through the Chooda ceremony and the Jaimala ceremony the bride couldn't keep herself mum! She was one sweet, innocent, chatty bride who chose to comment on things during the chooda ceremony, chose to laugh at the pundit during the pheras and also chose not to go mad crying in the vidai/doli ceremony.

I stayed up until 7 in the morning eventually. Watching the whole thing was refreshing....it kinda gave me a feeling that getting married is not all that big.

Anyway, in all it was a great punjabi wedding and I hope the bride and groom have a happy life together.

London Files

Two weeks back, I visited London, UK on business. I cannot miss out on posting the tid-bits of the city on my blog. But then, I cannot put it all together in one post in a single day (i fear it may get boring that way for both of us). So, I'll re-package the product in smaller units (I bet, that can create waves just like the parle G Rs. 2 pack did when it was first launched.)

Everytime a post on this page is titled LF1, LF2 etc...you know what it is. Hope you will enjoy the funny as well as the not-so-funny accounts of this journey as much as I did experiencing them. [You li'l snobbish globetrotter there, I know what you're thinking. Let me tell you - YES, I DON'T GO PLACES EVERY NEW MOON AND SO I'LL WRITE EVERYTIME I GO OUT TO AN INTERESTING PLACE!]

The Tribute

Dear Lappy,

I knew not they'll steal you from a locked hotel room, or else I would have tied you down with the table-leg, or the window latch, or the closet hanging bar, or someplace else where no one could have separated you from me.

There were so many sweet pictures of mine that you carried in your heart (though, I must mention you suffered cardiac arrests ever so often!). And, I loved myself in those useless poses. And then, the pictures of friends and family! They all resided in one warm and cozy corner somewhere inside you.

I really appreciated the speed I got on your type-pad. Now with a temporary substitute- which is a li'l smart but dated Dell Inspiron - I miss being at ease with the keypad. All this time I spent with you, I cursed you for breaking my back with your weight. Sometimes silly no-job-i-have-so-i'll-poke-my-nose-in-other's-business people around me told me that you looked heavier than I do...but honestly I never heeded to them. I thought you weighed decent but this Dell thingy weighs even more...it so often reminds me of you. But this li'l chap deserves an applaud for having proved so much help so let's not talk bad things about it.

I'm not writing this for comic relief but, you know what, everything I say sounds funny to fools. Can I help it! Guess not. The saddest part is that I will soon be issued another laptop which will be most likely an upgrade of yours. But believe me, no other lappy can beat you. I feel guilty being happy about the new laptop I will have to get now.

To add insult to injury, I had backed up all my data in silly DVDs sometime back. Yes, that means all those pictures you had kept hidden in your heart are now written on the shining flat tummies of those stupid DVDs too. I know it hurts but having lost you, it would have been quite a shock to have lost all the work and knowledge I gathered all this while.

So, I have the data and probably will have a better lappy soon....But that doesn't make life any easier for me without you. You still remain my best lappy ever! And yes that means I always preferred you over my shiny new Compaq presario, if that helps!

I miss you and your forward key which never was....

Love,
Shilpa

A Window on My Wall

This window of happiness,
saves my heart for you.
It opens a corridor of space that,
I stare at thinking of you.

I stand at the window tonight,
The twinkling lights have questioned my faith,
The hope in the breeze keeps me alive,
yet, I can't say that I shall wait...

The distance has sprinkled ash all over,
I see, the cars are crying out,
The chirping birds are moving south now,
Here at the window, I sing aloud.

Early morning when the sun arrives,
this window brings light to me,
Even when it's gloomy and overcast,
It's the window that shows me what I wanna see.

Why can't I see a real horizon?
Guess it's hiding behind the distance,
The music still plays on my window,
I can see the stars smiling all at once.

A Nonchalant Traveller (Not Me!)

Travel time is fun for me. I do not like to do much of anything on the move and so I have the privilege to indulge in millions of other conversations or actions being carried on around me. Like any other trip back home this one was a short one too. While on my way back, I found a species sitting diagonally opposite to my aisle seat on the row ahead of mine. You shouldn't try to name the species because only I can...but you've seen her quite a few times and if you are an Indian you know one of her pretty well. That species is what I fondly call 'the aunty ji of India'. Quite commonly spotted, Aunty jis are very hard to distract. They usually seem diving in and out of the luxurious pool of self-indulgence.

Nevertheless, there was this aunty ji in the row before mine and I spent an hour watching her and smiling to myself in sheer satisfaction which comes only from watching fat aunties trying to feed themselves. Yes, I have the time to do that and the propensity required too!

Aunty ji asked for some tea. Then she sniffed into the cup to ensure they haven't been keeping cow-dung in it before they got her the coffee mug. She elegantly lifted the mug to the air hostess who poured a cuppa hot black tea in it. Then the struggle to prepare the tea began. Oh boy, has anything been more interesting.

From the pack of tid-bits, aunty ji first pulled out a sachet of after-mint. Assuming it is sugar, she slit it through the middle and flipped it upside down to pour the contents right in the mug! My heart was beating faster. I almost said it aloud, 'Aunty ji, that's mint not sugar'...well almost is a good word to describe desperation sometimes. Fortunately, for aunty ji the contents didn't really fall off. Thanks to her excellent sachet dissection skills. She pulled the mint sachet back, put a finger inside to enlarge the hole she'd made and bang! She now knows its not sugar. She hurriedly puts it aside and looks around...eventually at me too. I just pretend I'm sleeping with my eyes half open ;). Aunty ji is relaxed and back to her old deed again.

The next sachet is that of salt. The funny thing is all these packets have the contents printed on them in a lovely cursive font. For aunty jis these things go unnoticed. This time around aunty ji was very careful. She opened the salt sachet and put a finger right in the 4cms X 4cms thingy and then pulled it out only to suck it literally!I thought to myself 'that's salt, ok next' (i guess in sync with her). Man, she had got some knack for first-hand trialing. Now I know who you would need for all those quality assurance checks performed to ensure there are no fall-outs. Aunty ji , of course. Stupid questions often have simple answers.

Aunty ji finally picked sugar. I was relieved and sad too, after all it was fun watching the silent episode. What really got me thinking is the confidence and certainty with which she picked the tea whitener (Most of us deliciously call it the milk powder). She was sure it was tea whitener, she poured it without much ado. She didn't think for a micro-second about sneaking a taste before she lets it loose unplugged into the tea. Cause-effect relations are tough to establish in any sample of aunty ji but I conjectured that this is the power of the brand. Strangely, I never thought that the Nestle everyday(tm) is positioned that strongly into the minds of Indian Aunts who can't even read the salt/mint labels on other packs! I tried to recall adverts of the brand....it was something truly aunty-genised.

Yes, there wasn't much to laugh about in this post but damn! why do you people expect me to write only funny things. This may not be a funny story but that's because it was a fun experience. Next time you travel on a sector which houses some aunty characters - check them out for some real-time-on-the-go entertainment.

Have a good trip!

How much smiling is too much?

Did you think a smile is the most beautiful thing in the world you could give away without losing much? I thought I believed in it unless I saw the Wimbledon women’s single semi-final with the world no. 1 Justine Henin playing against the world no. 18 (not too sure) Marion Bartoli. As you all must have seen, heard or lastly read at least that the play was some superb tennis. And, of course, my broken belief has nothing to do with the match itself.

The story goes like this. Ms. Henin started off well and gradually as the wind started blowing the ends of Bartoli’s long hair to her shoulders, Bartoli started looking more confident and kept getting better at the play. All of a sudden I could see the quality in her technique. Not that I have seen Bartoli’s game before but I made an opinion by the commentators’ repeated blaming of the wind’s direction in becoming an obstacle to bringing out the real player in Henin. It takes an idiot’s brain to deduce Ms. Bartoli may not have proved herself as strong at the game as she was doing tonight against Justine. It took me a while to decide who am I siding up with, Justine, Marion or the harmless wind which didn’t quite blow to anyone’s advantage. Bartoli proved that there was more to her credit than the stupid wind. Her strokes were low, measured and she covered the court very well. Henin was made to run far and across the court, sometimes back and forth. Henin did give away a few points easily, but mainly Bartoli earned every bit of the mega-win all by herself using extraordinary techniques, timing the strokes perfectly and placing the ball right. She deserved to win – Bartoli.

Of course, during the last set the excitement was high, the air was rife with anticipation. The commentator sounded as if she agreed with me totally since she kept repeating aloud what I was thinking to myself – ‘Justine knows she can’t lose this. She must be hoping to catch up in this last set’. Right in the middle of all this nail-biting anticipation, they cut in for the sponsors to show some most-unwanted adverts [They better pay whoever a ransom for ruining the continuity of this heart-in-your-throat sequence for all of us viewers!]. It was the Thai Airways advertisement. Some women, some lamps, some sort of an aesthetic hot air balloon with the world map printed all around it and a lot of smiling. I realized I’m totally irritated. I decided I could attribute it to the way Justine was losing to a no. 3 in France player. Introspection confirmed the real cause of irritation was not that…thought a little more, no it wasn’t the interruption caused by the advertisements…I knew I was close and then I could see it. All the smiling in that Thai Airways ad had put me off completely.

I mean smiling is fine, but meaningless, extra-broad, see-through-fake smiles are just not in. I am serious when I say it harms more than it can do any good you think it is meant to do to the business. I got pissed with Thai Airways even before I could experience the service first-hand. Blame it all on that ‘too much smiling’ by a bunch of well-dressed women thingy.

The next time you are smiling at a total stranger for no good reason just think about the way I felt tonight and I’m sure you’ll never go overboard with the smiling business. And yes, watch your mindless smiling even when that’s the only sensible thing in your job description!

The First Chapati

They leave it like that. The women in most parts of this country(India..of course!). The first chapati is small and meaningless. It's not meant to be eaten, nor to be thrown away but they prepare it anyway. It is a thing which works as a base for the several other edible chapatis which will follow after the first, smallest, no-use-you-are chapati is set at the bottom.

That's what this post is. The first, I'm-sure-as-hell smallest and somewhat meaningless. The other serious longish yet nonsensical stuff will follow shortly.