Wednesday, June 29, 2011


It’ll be too hot..
its gonna be raining.
But we’ve both been to Waynad…
I want to go to ChikkamagaLur…
I don’t want to go anywhere…
Let’s go to vythiri in Waynad…
Yeah looks cool…
But isn’t it too expensive?
Yeah… But its our anniversary… So lets go…
But we’ve both been to Waynad… Let’s go to some other place…
After a week of haggling and a day before departure… We thought Vythiri it is… and Waynad is the place…

Calls made to Vythiri… NO VACANCY…

Venue changed to ChikkamagaLur, calls made to 8-10 homestay…, NO VACANCY again.

Finally we thought if nothing, lets take our tent and go anyplace… Place dint matter, time spent together is what is important.

Just then a last attempt. A last call made to Homestay - Mugila Mane. Room available… room booked for 2 nights. All set to leave next day to the coffee place – CHIKKAMAGALUR.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Colourful Paper!!!

Akshata opened the gates and ran towards the door, and rang the bell continuously. Her mom opened the door. Before she could scold her for making the noise, Akshata just barged in, throwing her bag on the sofa, shoes on one side, and lunch bag on a chair. In a moment, the beautiful house turned messy. Her mom realized the gates were wide open, which was an open invitation to stray dogs. She closed the gates and came in closing the door behind her.

One look at the house and she was furious with Akshata. Hands on her hips, giving a stern look, in a normal tone, she asked her daughter.

“What kind of behavior is this, Akshu? Is this what you do when you come back from school”

“Sorry Amma, I am so excited today. I can’t wait to show you, what I learnt in school today”

Her mom wanted to share the joy, but certain things couldn’t be left unattended, so she continued “I am sure, it must be very interesting dear. But, do you think we should go ahead with that, with all this mess around.”

Akshata understood what her mother meant, and promptly got up from the sofa, took her shoes and neatly placed it on the shoe rack, took her lunch bag and kept it in the wash area. She was just about to take the bag and go to her room, when her mom called out.

“Akshu, I have made something special for you today. You freshen up and come to the balcony, with what you want to show me, I will be ready with your surprise”

Her eyes lit up, she hugged her mom and said “You are the best Amma in the world” and ran to her room, to keep the bag in place and to change, but most importantly, she wanted to go and show the amazing thing to her mom.

As she entered the balcony, she could smell freshly baked fruit cake.

“Wow Amma, you made me fruit cake. It’s my favorite. Thank you”

“Well, I had to. You are the best daughter. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,………….” she said something with a big piece of cake in her mouth, only she could have deciphered what she was saying.

After a piece, her mom reminded Akshata, that she was supposed to show her something.

She got a sheet of white paper. Then she got her Blue Ink Bottle, she got the filler. Akshata first placed a newspaper on the floor. On top of it, kept the white paper. Now carefully, she put drops of ink, on the white paper. It was random, no particular order. Then she folded the paper into half, rubbed over it. She opened the sheet of paper, and a beautiful artwork was on the white paper.

Akshata, beaming with pride showed it to her mom, “See Amma, Radhika taught me this today”

“Wow Akshu, that’s beautiful. Radhika has taught you something very nice”, saying this she hugged Akshata and gave a peck on the cheek and said “Now, let’s keep this aside, so that it dries and we can show it to Appa, when he comes home”

Next day, when Akshata came home, she had another surprise, Amma had got her water colours and told her, she could do the same thing with colours. Both of them had lot of fun that evening. It was one of the most colourful days of the 5 year old. Akshata kept singing all day, my colourful paper.

That night, Akshata’s mom, took out her diary from the trunk and kept the first 2 sheets of Akshata’s creations in the book, and named them – My Akshu’s artwork. She was about to close the diary when a sheet fell from the book.

It was her first colourful paper.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Incentive or Bribe

Heard this line in one of the songs in 3 Idiots – “Rishvat dena to khudd Papa ne sikhaya”… It’s not to demean the parents. Ofcourse what we are today, is because of them, the push, the confidence they have given us… But it’s not entirely false, that we have seen this from our childhood.. Parents.. teachers… everybody….

Recently, I was in conversation with a person(X) I know. We were discussing jewellery. When she said, you must have gone to XXXXX jewellery store, they have got good collection. I said, yeah next time, I will go there and look out.

Just then she said, “we had to get a gift in gold, for the inspector who had come to our college”. I quite dint understand, at first I thought, they had some function and it was a memento, only later I understood, there was an inspection and this “GIFT” was the bribe.

There was another incident, when the college was supposed to have some event, and some permissions from the POLICE had to be taken. So the students told X, “Don’t worry ma’m, We will do some ADJUSTMENT with the police”.. Needless to say, the event was successful.

Now, as a teacher (GURU), isn’t one supposed to imbibe certain qualities in the student. If the Student is going the wrong way, should the teacher encourage the student. In the above mentioned incidents, may be if they hadn’t taken the steps they did, it wouldn’t have happened.

But is this what we are passing on to the next generation…

Not just teachers, parents too are responsible for this.

Lakhs and lakhs of rupees spent on “DONATIONS”
“Dad, I want my DL” – Ok, Lets bribe the RTO.

Why blame government and private agencies…

Its all root level..

“Eat the food baby… I’ll let you watch TV… I’ll give you a chocolate..” What is incentive in the beginning, becomes Bribe in the Long Run…

Friday, June 17, 2011

If you were....

“I like your stories, darling. Why don’t we get this published into a book” Rajesh asked
Priya was very skeptical “I don’t know. Do you think it’s good enough to be published”
“Ofcourse dear. The grammar is right. Your stories are short, simple. The readers can just connect to it.” Rajesh persuaded her.
“If you say so, but how will we do it. Where do we find the publisher. And what about the investment?” Priya was anxious about a lot of things.
“You just churn out good stories, rest you leave it on the supreme one” Rajesh gave a loud laugh.
“Alright, almighty, supreme one… I am so grateful to you” Priya laughed along.
They kept the papers in the file and left to have dinner in their favorite restaurant.

Rajesh and Priya knew each other for 5 years. They were married for 2 years and had a great life. Priya was interested in writing, and started writing short stories as a hobby. Anytime, she saw some incident, which happened around her, or she remembered something from her past, she would weave it into a beautiful story. She had around 50 stories ready.

It took her an year to complete the number of short stories required for the book to be published. Rajesh had contacted a publisher who was eager to publish the book. Rajesh had to do a lot of travelling, for his work, and he did not find time for the publishing. Priya, did not want him to take too much burden, and she herself took up the responsibility of getting the book published. After the initial few stories, Rajesh had not read what she had written. Every time Priya sent him the new story, he wouldn’t read the story citing various reasons. For some time, she started feeling, that her stories were probably not upto the mark and Rajesh dint have a heart to tell it to her. But, her publisher was confident that the stories were great, and she should get it published.

The book got published. Along came the fan following, awards. Success was with her now. She felt aloof, inspite of all the adulation.

Priya couldn’t understand why Rajesh couldn’t be a part of her success. One day, she decided to confront him. She wanted to know if it was her fault and if success had got into her head that she distanced from her loved ones. Rajesh assured her, she was still the same doting wife. It was his work, that was eating up all the time.

She wrote a couple more books, which were again Best Sellers and undoubtedly won her awards and lot of recognition, not just on the national level. Next she decided to write a novel instead of short stories. In a year’s time, she was ready with the book, it was published. The publisher had arranged for a book release.

Rajesh was in town that day. she told him, she would be glad if he could be with her on this big day. Rajesh had agreed to accompany her.

In the evening, Priya was dressed in one of her finest Sarees. Rajesh had got it for her, from one of his trips. She looked so elegant. She looked in the mirror and smiled at herself. Just then, Rajesh called in to say, he would join her at the release location, and that she start from alone. This saddened her, but she was happy that he atleast took some time to come to the location directly. She took the book in her hand – “If only you were” and went downstairs to the car.

The book release location was bustling with people. They were waiting to take a glimpse of this fabulous writer, who had become a rage in a few years. There were photographers, journalists, other prominent writers, waiting to welcome Priya. A volunteer announced, Madam Priya is just in the corner, and she would be reaching the venue in 5 minutes.

Rajesh had just parked his car, and come near the entrance to welcome his Priya. He was happy, as he was going to be with his beloved wife on her big day. At the Road entrance, they spotted her car, taking a turn.

A huge crash. Everybody saw the car go up in the air. Police rushed to the place. The car was smashed all over.

Rajesh rushed to the place. He wanted to rush Priya to the hospital. He could spot the saree in that mess. He went near the body. Priya’s face had a peaceful smile. On one hand, she had the book, which was to be released that evening.

Rajesh couldn’t believe what he was looking at. He took the book from her hand. He opened the last page and read the last few lines.

“Everybody says – Behind every successful man, there is a woman. Some also say – Behind every successful woman there is a man. “
“But all I wanted was my man to be beside me”

~End of Story~

Rajesh took the book with him, and walked across the street. Some journalists claim they saw him teary eyed.