Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Ego of the heart!

Love seems to be a lonely word
In this densely populated place,
Love seems like a dried-up riverbed
That’s seen better seasons,
Love seems to be an over rated word
Is what wisdom pontificates?
Coz Love seems to have been taken over by the ego of the heart!

I have been wronged, ignored & left behind
Is the mantra that we chant,
So used to complaining & releasing pent-up hurt,
But have we ever stopped & wondered…. why me all alone?
Coz Love seems to have been taken over by the ego of the heart!

The teasing & relenting
The hunger to give more
The thought of living for the beloved
Just isn’t anymore.
I gather all the riches & goodness from far & wide,
I think I’m the epitome of love personified,
But when the time to deliver comes knocking at my door,
I feel vulnerable & scared of what’s in store,
I just can’t do this…I have a reputation to defend
Coz Love seems to have been taken over by the ego of the heart!

What use is this ego…that can’t bring me joy
of owning & belonging.
What use is this ego that’s killed the chances
of any affectionate germination?
I rather do away with thy and come off clean
In order to spring new leaves of predilection
I shall have to shed your company.

Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Pass me the beedi!

Nani ma was this sweet 4 feet10 inches lady with a religious bent of mind. Though she died a suhagan* she preferred to always be in a crisp white cotton saree with a thin colourful border. A feisty lady at the helm of the family affairs, she was my savior & my guide.

Now what did an old lady & an 8 year old have in common, you might ask. Loads! We seemed to be a part of the same cell n therefore connected at every level. Be it savoring chai* at a drop of a hat, chanting mantras*, picking flowers for the daily puja* or plain having a smoke.

When Nani had been in her prime…she suffered from gastric inconveniences. Someone suggested the hukka!* So hukka it was!

Every morning’s conversation thus started with the same note to her man servant Baiju.

Baijua….where the hell is my hukka?
Baiju : Maiji*…coming in a jiffy. The damn coals are wet from last night & just not ready for combustion.
Haven’t I told you so many times to keep the coal in the store room?
Baiju : The store rooms so far away on the other side of the earth Maiji. There’s so much to do in the mornings.
You good for nothing! Stop arguing & get the work done for once!

Nani’s world orbited round the hukka. Her moods were inversely proportionate to the glowing charcoal that sizzled as she puffed mouthfuls of tobacco that passed thru a compartment filled with water making gurgling noises before reaching the puffer.

She carried on like this for a couple of years & as the Baijus & Parmesars left for greener pastures she was sometimes left to fend for her hukka all by herself. Then in one of those rare enlightening fits, Nani decided that she had enough of the hukka. She needed to trash it & take up the beedi!*

Thus started a romance with the beedi that lasted for the next 3 decades. Others came n went but Nani & her beedi stuck a long standing partnership till the very end of her mortal existence.

My earliest recollection of Nani is when I was crying for something & she said if I stopped crying…she would let me have a puff. Now that must have been a real incentive coz I did stop crying & she did pass me the beedi.

It was our own lil secret & became her impugned weapon to charm me out of straining my vocal cords. Everyone would applaud her on her baby sitting skills as we would indulgently exchange knowing looks.

It was in the summer of 1977 that I stumbled upon a secret of immense betrayal. Nani had been sharing the reverent beedi not only with me but Bhaiya* & my younger cousin as well. I was shattered by the knowledge that I was not the chosen one.


I sulked on this for days. But because I had a compromising bent of mind, I dissuaded myself to understand the pressure of responsibility on Nani to keep all her grand twits in good humour.

Deep within me knew who the favorite actually was. After all, she did allow me to touch her puja utensils & shared the morning chai with me. It was another story altogether that the two dimwits (Bahia n the younger clown) were fast asleep when the chai was served.

The numbskulls aka boys would get up around the time our shadows were the shortest n the birds were roosting sleepily on the kadam* branches overcome by the external energy that made the temperature rise.

Most of the days, Nani’s match stick reserves would deplete & she would invariably ask one of us to run n light the beedi from the burning fire in the bhansaghar*. And then the jostling to be the chosen one to light the beedi would start. Might is right would take over & many a fight unto death would erupt only to end in a simmering time-please for our dear Nani’s sake!

The duds were physically strong but that’s where it ended. The art of inhaling smoke from the mouth & exhaling it through the nostrils was patented by yours truly. This won me the respect that I legitimately deserved.

I held seminars clubbed with live demo’s to pass on the wisdom that I had so naturally acquired. But the chaps had to live up to their names…NUMB SKULLS!!!

The summer ended & so did our vacation. Back to the grind…school…manners….discipline…yada yada round the clock!

As we grew up….the natural instincts to embrace the beedi got superseded with righteousness. Our parents were responsible for muddling up our brains with all things nice.

As for Nani ma….she remained the smoking Joe right till her demise in the year 1986. I remember her funeral rites. The Hindu’s offer the stuff that is dear to the departed soul to the Brahmin who’s presiding over the rituals. The beedi was right on top of that list.


*Beedi – tobacco wrapped in leaf from the kendu plant. It’s the indian version of a
cigarette & habituated by the rural folks.

*Nani Ma – maternal grand mother

*Saree - a nine yard long cloth that is wrapped around the body in different styles depending on the region one belongs to.

*Suhagan - A married women. The married ladies always wore colorful clothes leaving the whites to be donned by the widows.

*Chai – Tea

*Mantras – Hindu prayers generally in Sanskrit

*Hukka - a water pipe widely used decades ago by the upper class. The tobacco is
burnt by charcoal. The produced smoke passes through water at the base of the
hukka and a long tube before it is inhaled.

* Maiji – A respectful term to address the lady head of the family.

*Bhaiya – elder brother

*Puja – Religious rituals by the Hindu’s

*Kadam – a type of tall thick foliaged tree bearing sweet n sour kadam fruits that have
a tender prickly skin & turns orange when ripe.

*Bhansaghar – kitchen

Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Murphy’s Law!

It seems like this most of the times in life. We aspire for cake but get served salad. If the need of the hour is salad be sure you’re getting pizza. The mumbo jumbo of our respective karmas* is quite baffling.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
They say…what you are & get is a combination of your past life’s karmas, your present life’s karmas & the direction that you further choose as the course of your actions. Now this in my opinion is pure unfair. E.g. If there has been a past bad karma, it shall finally catch up with you in this life & would pull you away from performing some good karmas in the present coz the past life actions were negative in nature.
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And if you’re still able to fight all that negative energy n strive to be a better person…the chances of being rewarded in this life looks slim coz a part of the good deed you do shall get transferred into a future account to be rewarded in your next birth. Now I understand from what context the coining of the phrase…karma karo…phul ki chinta chod do* has been derived.
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So what does one do with such a life? Since the heart is pumping n the lungs flexing anyways…why not enjoy the disparage of life? And if one has to enjoy what we call disparage…why not have a little fun on the way?
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Fun for different people is rather spelt differently. There’s appropriate fun, freaky fun, adventurous fun, dangerous fun, conniving fun, healthy fun, stupefaction fun, racy fun and many more that’s escaped the flow of thoughts but shall come rushing back after I have posted this article.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
To give some appropriation to my fun terminologies….let me touch each one of them individually.

Appropriate fun : When one enjoys a certain thing or feeling only the way they are supposed to.

Freaky fun : The fun that cannot be made public to escape a referendum of complete banishment.

Adventurous Fun : When you want to question god’s decision for keeping you live & kicking.

Dangerous fun : When the experimentation with forbidden fruits is uppermost on your mind.

Conniving fun : You gang up with Mr. A to poke fun at Mr. Z coz Mr. Z is cute n popular with everyone right from Mr. B to Mr. Y.

Healthy fun : When you enjoy tomato juice for all its natural inherent properties & go about coercing other people into nursing similar habits.

Stupefaction fun : When you enjoy tomato juice for the added intoxicatingly invigorating properties & go about coercing people to nurse similar habits.

Racy fun : Owning a moped armed with the piquant ambition to beat a Harley.

We have digressed to the yonder here. Lets stir back to the main street of thoughts….Murphy’s Law! Whatever can go wrong will go wrong!

There are times when we want something real bad not becoz we need it but becoz we can’t have it. Such was the case with this acquaintance. He had gotten used to winning hands down & popularly prevailed over the attention he got from the opposite sex. And then he meets this women. She just wouldn’t get impressed! Her bizarre rejection pulled out all the feathers in his cap he had so painstakingly put together over the years.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
I have never been rebuffed….he shared. The ego’s been somersaulting with such speed that the mind is driven. So the favorite victim, rationality is chucked out of the window. In the middle of all this another glitch is this guys supposed to be married. So what’s making him stray this way? Boredom perhaps with the added spice of forbidden fruit tasting best! The wife’s a stunner….but the grass on the other side looks strangely more succulent with a pleasing coloration of tender quality.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
Murphy’s Law is playing havoc here! A seemingly decent marriage is getting compromised with the thought that there can never be a story with “and they lived happily ever after”.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
Now the woman who’s getting chased is a friend. So let’s look at her story. She’s single & smart but a bit impractical who’s still looking for true love. Does she know what that love is? I mean what indeed is true love? It can mean different things for different people. She seems to be a bag of jumbled thoughts but one things clear…she does not believe in stealing love or borrowing it from unsuspecting people.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
So what she gets is not what she wants. And what’s not there is what she strives for looking for this elusive emotional perception at places that are quite out of her reach. Murphy’s Law at play again!
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
Speaking of missing the bus reminds me of my own mum. She had a cute son & modest circumstances had brought forth the resolve to not have any more babies. Her friend on the other hand had a rich husband & the couple was looking forward to some lovely additions in their family in the near future.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
As luck would have it, both the ladies felt sick on the same day. Karma I guess! After all they were best friends. The Lord has his ways & they might be quite strange sometimes.
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My mum complained of gas & her friend suspected pregnancy. They visit the doctor & both come out with crestfallen faces. Murphy’s Law was working overtime. Mum was reproved by the doc for not understanding that she was 22 weeks pregnant & her imaginary pregnant friend was let off with some digestive pills. Both got what they had not bargained for.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
And then there was this friend who was in love with the idea of being in love. She choose a good looking love, experienced love & realized later that it was a poseur in its wiliest form. She later got what she didn’t want in the guise of a “oh so average looking goose” who was a mine of gems. Such an epitome of honour, expelling a jewel ever so often that finally molded my friend’s perception of how she loved what she had vehemently not wanted not very long ago.
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
Summing up the stray thoughts here…. Murphy’s Law does work! If it does not…it’s probably got overshadowed by a combo of karma’s! There is hope!
Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007
*Karma - the good or bad emanations felt to be generated by someone

* karma karo…phul ki chinta chod do - Do good deeds without worrying about the rewards.


Copyright © BuntysBanter 2007