I am just another muddled up specimen of the Generation-X, a mix of tradition and modernity. I am superstitious by convenience.
Let me come to the point, for all the times that we bow while crossing a place of worship, to keeping our fingers crossed during a tense situation, to throwing a stone to ward off the negativity when a cat crosses our path or even to the forwarding of the banal 'luck' mails and many more. The base behind all these is just superstition.
Some of you would not agree, simply because you don't realize that to some extent we all are slightly orthodox. In reality, I should say that we all are superstitious. But until the time the recourse is innocuous and effortless that means it does not involve any physical/financial liability or is not completely fatuous.
But have you ever wondered why are we superstitious? According to me, the basis is either fear or incentive. Let me elaborate; remember the time when our folks used to scold us for running around them, while they were sitting. They told us (at least, mine did), that it is a bad omen and stopped doing so, because of fear. Then there were hoards of similar stories, such as breaking the mirror, spilling the salt, walking under a ladder etc. But come to think of it, all these are situations which have a high propensity to a mishap, wastage or are simply too irritating to be tolerated! So, our parents were not trying to ward off the omen, but the ruckus they expected us to make.
The second clause is incentive, who would know better than us, the value of incentives, with the Yearly appraisal right around the corner! All of us have a general tendency to perform much better when rightly motivated. This motivation is nothing but incentive - social, moral or financial. Picking up a very neat example from 'Freakonomics', it said that the US Government decided to levy 15% extra tax on cigarette manufacturing companies. That is a negative financial incentive. Secondly, it asked all public places to ban smoking. That is a social incentive and thirdly, it announced that the Terror outfits in Afghanistan were minting money by illegal tobacco production. Now that is a moral incentive. These three incentives in totality tried to cover all the weaknesses of the human mind.
Superstition gives us hope to make the situation better. The inane things when compared to the ‘might-be-possible’ results seem really small. So, if you are positively motivated then your chances of delivering better results are accentuated. And if you do better, you are all the more motivated for the next time.
But is religion also based on the above two? Just give it a thought!!
And while you are thinking about this on your way home, if you spot a magpie, don't forget to follow the 'bachpan ka ritual',
"One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret, never to be told
Eight for a wish
Nine for a kiss
Ten for a bird you must not miss.”
Just to tell you that I still follow it,that too quite religiously.
Disclaimer: I am superstitious, T & C applied.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Bye Bye ..
26 years back, a little car rolled out on the streets of India, becoming a part of every middle-class family. Code named SS80, Maruti 800 became the quintessential part of the picture of the developing India! It was a ticket to mobility for all the families and a fresh change from the bulky ambassadors guzzling on the streets. The variant was launched with 796 cc engine and no AC, yet considering the 'then conditions', it was seen as a desiderata for a family of four, which had for long wanted to ease out from the uncomfortable - slightly cramped seating of the scooter.
And today its' makers have decided upon not upgrading the existing Bharat stage III to Bharat stage IV, as required by the Indian emissions regulations.
Thus, the time has come to say 'Ciao' to the car, which came out from the Gurgaon plant and zoomed straight into our hearts. Even though it is now being phased out, it will remain permanently parked in our memories.
A few quick facts - Maruti 800 was the maximum selling car, till Alto came and captured the market. Interestingly, Alto is very similar to M800.
M800 is also available in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Morocco and Chile. In Pakistan, it is known as Suzuki Mehran. Around 2.5 million M800 cars have been sold till date.
And today its' makers have decided upon not upgrading the existing Bharat stage III to Bharat stage IV, as required by the Indian emissions regulations.
Thus, the time has come to say 'Ciao' to the car, which came out from the Gurgaon plant and zoomed straight into our hearts. Even though it is now being phased out, it will remain permanently parked in our memories.
A few quick facts - Maruti 800 was the maximum selling car, till Alto came and captured the market. Interestingly, Alto is very similar to M800.
M800 is also available in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Morocco and Chile. In Pakistan, it is known as Suzuki Mehran. Around 2.5 million M800 cars have been sold till date.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Pressured & Cooked
A pressure cooker situation, very common in an Indian household, which comes as an accompaniment with a shaadi or a sangeet celebration.
Standing nervously in the midst of my loving mamus, my doting nanis and my over proud mother, I remember trying to coyly sneak out of the room, as the evergreen 'Lucknow Idol' ,a musical show, where kids of all age groups were required to display their talents was on. The winners returned with crisp Rs. 100 /- notes and lipstick stained cheeks.
A huddle of all Latas and Burmans, with SriDevis and AR Rahmans, waited in anticipation for the next performer. As the circus master or the host or the Gabbar announced without any prior notice about the next in line, I gulped as quietly as possible to make sure that my relatives forgot about my existence. The Gabbar with a pistol in hand with well shuffled 3 bullets in 6 free slots was all set to stage a mockery of our self-respects. The target, right now, was my little cousin, who could have given Madhuri - a run for her money, as she was an 'every occassion' and even a 'no occasion' dancer. She danced and sang flamboyantly.Tick,the bullet had missed her, making her a jubilant winner with on the spot accolades, whistles and cash rewards.
Next in the crossfire was my elder sister as Gabbar declared while strolling with his iron sole shoes on the parapet of the carpeted venue. With maths running in my head, it was errrr...3/5 i.e 60% probability of my sister getting shot down. She being naturally good at singing, sang one of her three patent songs (which by the way, in my world, is a huge option choice). Tick,the bullet had missed her too, as she managed to overcome her performing fright and that too superbly.
The only lame goat left was me. With a rebellion raging inside me, I realized I had 75% chances of getting 'declared-dead'. As all the requests started coming in, Gabbar mocked at me and I got ready for the execution, My mind became numb and entered a black hole, making me forget the entire world of Bollywood naach - gaana. No songs no tunes.A mute slow motion scene played in my mind, as my pulse dropped and my heartbeat soared when Phew...thankfully, my bail-out package - my sister came to my rescue to remind me of my most favourite bathroom numbers. Taking my pick, I voiced my squeaks into a crass cacophony.I sang, errr... I croaked out, "yahan dulha hai baraati hain...feeling hot hot hot". As this Bina Mistry's old catchy number, reiterated the state of my feverish body temperature, I knew even Kadar Khan could have sung better. DhishKao,I felt the pain of the bullet hitting me. It had achieved its' salvation. As my self respect lay splattered on the floor, I saw my mother sitting glumly in her chair. She knew I had just given a disaster performance,though I still received appreciation from my nanis. God bless them, for their big hearts and small ears !
Everybody decided that they had heard enough and left the venue.Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee..sheeeeeeeee.......The cooker released its whistle, and the lid was opened. I could breathe again. The rest of the celebrations continued with all the hulla balloo, with gossip related to new gen relations, the brides dresses, the cribbing about the wedding arrangement, the devouring of the sweets and more.
But, somewhere in between, the 'white dwarf' dimmed and got lost in the melee of jubilations.My short lived performance was soon forgotten.I was much happier now, with no more pronto acts, atleast in this function. Knowing that soon, it will be time again, to display my tainted talent in the nebula of the next marriage of a yet another, didi or bhaiya in line, for a nuptial arrangement!!
Standing nervously in the midst of my loving mamus, my doting nanis and my over proud mother, I remember trying to coyly sneak out of the room, as the evergreen 'Lucknow Idol' ,a musical show, where kids of all age groups were required to display their talents was on. The winners returned with crisp Rs. 100 /- notes and lipstick stained cheeks.
A huddle of all Latas and Burmans, with SriDevis and AR Rahmans, waited in anticipation for the next performer. As the circus master or the host or the Gabbar announced without any prior notice about the next in line, I gulped as quietly as possible to make sure that my relatives forgot about my existence. The Gabbar with a pistol in hand with well shuffled 3 bullets in 6 free slots was all set to stage a mockery of our self-respects. The target, right now, was my little cousin, who could have given Madhuri - a run for her money, as she was an 'every occassion' and even a 'no occasion' dancer. She danced and sang flamboyantly.Tick,the bullet had missed her, making her a jubilant winner with on the spot accolades, whistles and cash rewards.
Next in the crossfire was my elder sister as Gabbar declared while strolling with his iron sole shoes on the parapet of the carpeted venue. With maths running in my head, it was errrr...3/5 i.e 60% probability of my sister getting shot down. She being naturally good at singing, sang one of her three patent songs (which by the way, in my world, is a huge option choice). Tick,the bullet had missed her too, as she managed to overcome her performing fright and that too superbly.
The only lame goat left was me. With a rebellion raging inside me, I realized I had 75% chances of getting 'declared-dead'. As all the requests started coming in, Gabbar mocked at me and I got ready for the execution, My mind became numb and entered a black hole, making me forget the entire world of Bollywood naach - gaana. No songs no tunes.A mute slow motion scene played in my mind, as my pulse dropped and my heartbeat soared when Phew...thankfully, my bail-out package - my sister came to my rescue to remind me of my most favourite bathroom numbers. Taking my pick, I voiced my squeaks into a crass cacophony.I sang, errr... I croaked out, "yahan dulha hai baraati hain...feeling hot hot hot". As this Bina Mistry's old catchy number, reiterated the state of my feverish body temperature, I knew even Kadar Khan could have sung better. DhishKao,I felt the pain of the bullet hitting me. It had achieved its' salvation. As my self respect lay splattered on the floor, I saw my mother sitting glumly in her chair. She knew I had just given a disaster performance,though I still received appreciation from my nanis. God bless them, for their big hearts and small ears !
Everybody decided that they had heard enough and left the venue.Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee..sheeeeeeeee.......The cooker released its whistle, and the lid was opened. I could breathe again. The rest of the celebrations continued with all the hulla balloo, with gossip related to new gen relations, the brides dresses, the cribbing about the wedding arrangement, the devouring of the sweets and more.
But, somewhere in between, the 'white dwarf' dimmed and got lost in the melee of jubilations.My short lived performance was soon forgotten.I was much happier now, with no more pronto acts, atleast in this function. Knowing that soon, it will be time again, to display my tainted talent in the nebula of the next marriage of a yet another, didi or bhaiya in line, for a nuptial arrangement!!
Monday, January 18, 2010
As I am
As I am,
As I wanna be,
Standing in a stadium,
Receiving a trophy!
As I am,
Signing an autograph, a card,
Stepping up a stage, getting an award!
As I am,
Facing people whom I only loathe,
Against thanking several, for their votes!
As I am,
Painting the canvas of at least a,
With a dash of hue to the smile of Monalisa!
As I am,
Managing top-notch brands both old & new,
Casually creating the actors for Amul or a cute zoozoo!
In the myriad of all the jobs,
I don’t know where I will be,
But, one thing’s certain,
As I am, I am gonna be!
As I wanna be,
Standing in a stadium,
Receiving a trophy!
As I am,
Signing an autograph, a card,
Stepping up a stage, getting an award!
As I am,
Facing people whom I only loathe,
Against thanking several, for their votes!
As I am,
Painting the canvas of at least a,
With a dash of hue to the smile of Monalisa!
As I am,
Managing top-notch brands both old & new,
Casually creating the actors for Amul or a cute zoozoo!
In the myriad of all the jobs,
I don’t know where I will be,
But, one thing’s certain,
As I am, I am gonna be!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
My dream !
Sometimes, you feel like dreaming with your eyes open, only to make sure that you dream about it, with your eyes closed. Guess what, I intentionally started to brood over - My own little book store named - 'Quill's Confessions'. Yes, it might sound a little complex, but it does not to me. Actually speaking, there have been many times, that I have looked at a shop, eating place or corporate and thought, "Why such a name?". But, today I realize how do some names just resonate from one's heart.
Okay, so continuing with my fairy tale, the abbreviated pet name of it would be - QCs...The whole idea behind the thought is basically,my love for books (despite of the fact that I am unable to finish all the books that I have still 'unread' at home)! I want to be around the oceans of information, fascinating fiction, astounding real stories, the historical past and much more. The imagery created in my mind is vivid, with exactly the ambience, it will have!
Decked up with bean bags and rocking chairs, and sofas to melt in! Separate peg tables, along with adequate spot lighting, and green potted plants, and a soothing water arrangement along with fresh flowers. Wow, all what I want is, exactly a place I want to sit and read in. Also, as an add on, there would definitely be a small cafe, to serve coffee, tea and some snackers. I bet you are thinking, that this is Barista or yet another CCD, but no, am I to be blamed, if the best accompaniments with Books are actually small delectable bits. But, seriously dont dare challenge my culinary thoughts, and think about a banal snack menu. Not to forget, some music to refresh the environment.And only if, the destiny permits, I might just be inking my mind on paper, I mean, atleast I can give a platform to young budding writers and put their works on display in my cute little book shoppe.
Well, I just can't wait to turn my QCs into a reality... I wish I do..!!
Okay, so continuing with my fairy tale, the abbreviated pet name of it would be - QCs...The whole idea behind the thought is basically,my love for books (despite of the fact that I am unable to finish all the books that I have still 'unread' at home)! I want to be around the oceans of information, fascinating fiction, astounding real stories, the historical past and much more. The imagery created in my mind is vivid, with exactly the ambience, it will have!
Decked up with bean bags and rocking chairs, and sofas to melt in! Separate peg tables, along with adequate spot lighting, and green potted plants, and a soothing water arrangement along with fresh flowers. Wow, all what I want is, exactly a place I want to sit and read in. Also, as an add on, there would definitely be a small cafe, to serve coffee, tea and some snackers. I bet you are thinking, that this is Barista or yet another CCD, but no, am I to be blamed, if the best accompaniments with Books are actually small delectable bits. But, seriously dont dare challenge my culinary thoughts, and think about a banal snack menu. Not to forget, some music to refresh the environment.And only if, the destiny permits, I might just be inking my mind on paper, I mean, atleast I can give a platform to young budding writers and put their works on display in my cute little book shoppe.
Well, I just can't wait to turn my QCs into a reality... I wish I do..!!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
In conversation
It is a beautiful morning, as I lie asleep,cuddled up in my cozy blanket, I am woken up by the invaluable and deeply missed yearns of my mother. With the sun basking the chrysanthemum filled garden, in its light. I leave the house in a rush, with blessings, wishes and love being emoted well by the eyes of my overtly sweet parents, and my little bro-my pet Crazy.And I undertake my journey each day,where I look forward to my targets, and to the methods taken up to achieve them and to a hope, which grows deeper each day, owing to the love shown by my near & dear ones for me.
But as I stand today, amidst a number of cars smoking away to their destinations, my eyes meet a pair of misty eyes. Yes, on the traffic signal, an old lady gathering herself in her tattered clothes, begs for alms. Her eyes tell the entire story of her desolate and despair filled state. A voice within me instructs, not to give money to beggars, but the human in me retaliates. Stranded in a place, where I can't buy food and give, the least that I can do is to give money.
I gave her a small amount, and rolled up my windows. I dont know though my car sped away from the scene, the feelings just trailed behind. I am still asking questions to myself ,
How lonely would she be?
How hungry would she be?
How cold would she be?
How hurt would she be?
With only questions and no answers... all I realize is poverty is god sent, I know, that we all are just so lucky, to be born in the homes of such sweet parents, who compromise on their dreams just to fulfil ours. I just pray to God to keep that old lady and all those in a similar state, secure, well fed and loved.
So the next time, in your conversations with God, when you complaint, just don't; rather, say a Thank You !!
But as I stand today, amidst a number of cars smoking away to their destinations, my eyes meet a pair of misty eyes. Yes, on the traffic signal, an old lady gathering herself in her tattered clothes, begs for alms. Her eyes tell the entire story of her desolate and despair filled state. A voice within me instructs, not to give money to beggars, but the human in me retaliates. Stranded in a place, where I can't buy food and give, the least that I can do is to give money.
I gave her a small amount, and rolled up my windows. I dont know though my car sped away from the scene, the feelings just trailed behind. I am still asking questions to myself ,
How lonely would she be?
How hungry would she be?
How cold would she be?
How hurt would she be?
With only questions and no answers... all I realize is poverty is god sent, I know, that we all are just so lucky, to be born in the homes of such sweet parents, who compromise on their dreams just to fulfil ours. I just pray to God to keep that old lady and all those in a similar state, secure, well fed and loved.
So the next time, in your conversations with God, when you complaint, just don't; rather, say a Thank You !!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Ab Bas....
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Jaane kabse mann mein, thane baithe hain!
Jaane kitne sapno se, bachpan se, rishte naate hain!
Ab toh unn khwabo ko panno pe utarana hai!
Ab toh us pyas ko aag se bujhana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Jitna bhi uljha main, aaj sab suljhana hai!
Zindage ke kar mukaam par santosh nahin sajana hai!
Ab toh har mushkil ko lehar samajh paar kar jaana hai!
Ab toh har raat ke andhere ko, roshni se nehlana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Mann mein jali ek aag ko , aankhon mein darshana hai!
Gale se nikli ek aah ko, lalkaar mein badlana hai!
Sau crore ki bhid mein, apna ek sthan banana hai !
Aage aake us, sau crore ki bhid ko aur aage le jaaana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Ananya
Jaane kabse mann mein, thane baithe hain!
Jaane kitne sapno se, bachpan se, rishte naate hain!
Ab toh unn khwabo ko panno pe utarana hai!
Ab toh us pyas ko aag se bujhana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Jitna bhi uljha main, aaj sab suljhana hai!
Zindage ke kar mukaam par santosh nahin sajana hai!
Ab toh har mushkil ko lehar samajh paar kar jaana hai!
Ab toh har raat ke andhere ko, roshni se nehlana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Mann mein jali ek aag ko , aankhon mein darshana hai!
Gale se nikli ek aah ko, lalkaar mein badlana hai!
Sau crore ki bhid mein, apna ek sthan banana hai !
Aage aake us, sau crore ki bhid ko aur aage le jaaana hai!
Ab bas bahot hua intezaar, bahot hui Soch....
Ab bas mujhe bhi kuch kar jaana hai!!
Ananya
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