Tuesday, February 26, 2008

What's in a name ??

What's in a name ?.. they say..
Quite a lot I believe..

I never liked my name that much..liked it but was never excited about it..
I always wanted my name to be a little unique..something with 5 syllables.like kaamayni or riddhima or something a little less ordinary than my present one.

But , when I was told about the various names my mother was toying with..
She thought of naming me 'Java'.. (all you raised eyebrows.. I know.. ) Apparently its the hindi name for Hibiscus..Nice thought but, still.And , in gujarat they would have made such fun of me..because 'java' is a verb meaning 'to go' and its variations . Then its the programming language in IT and its not over yet.. its the Coffee Beans and the old name for Indonesia or something.

Naming someone after hibiscus reminds me of another story.. one of my aunts is actually named 'gudhal', another hindi name for you guessed it, Hibiscus. So, one of my other aunt always gets confused and she stops herself just in time from calling her 'kathal' ( Jackfruit.. and I have not made this up ).
The surname 'Biyaani' always made me feel that a missing 'R' would have made it all wholesome and tasty.

One of our man fridays at one of the PG I used to say was named 'Bechelaal'. Our Pg lady asked us one day, " Have you listened to the story behind his name or not ? You should. Its quite interesting and he loves telling it ".So, we caught hold of Bechelaal of the stinky poccha fame and spiderman acrobatic skills and asked him about it.The story went something like this , all the children born before Bechelaal did not use to survive for long.So, his parents decided to break the jinx by selling him to his naani for a chawanni (25 paise) when he was born and hence, the unique name Bechelaal. By the way, the aunt of mine who used to have problem with names, always ended up calling him 'Chedilaal'.

And Gujaratis top the list in picking weird names for their unsuspecting kids.Once, while travelling in train I asked this 20 something mom about her daughter's name. It was 'Panache".. yes, Panache as in the word 'flair'. Wow !! is all I could say.But , the best I find is NRG's( Non Resident Gujaratis) naming their kids 'Neil' or 'Dave' . Nice names which are there in both Indian and American culture and easy to pronounce for the firangs. Then they also have these unisex names like 'Snehal' and 'Mital' and the worst is 'Peenal'..uh hullo ??

Considering all this, I was glad my parents finally chose what they did.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Pursuit of Happyness

Am yet to watch the movie..
But, here I am putting up an excerpt from the book Eat , Pray and Love( the last book to be read completely by me)

Happiness is the consequence of personal effort.You fight for it,strive for it,insist upon it and sometimes even travel the world looking for it.You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it , you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into the happiness forever , to stay afloat on top of it.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Funeral Blues

Heard this one in the movie "Four Weddings and A Funeral "..

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

--W.H. Auden

Thursday, January 3, 2008

I Carry your heart with me...

I love this poem by EE Cummings...
Heard it first in the movie "In your shoes " and loved it..
So, here goes..

I carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)


i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Books...Books..books..

I like books.
But ( forgive me for beginning a sentence with but..) I do not recall even a single instance when i received books as gifts...I guess I haven't publicised it enough that I would like to have books for gifts...( I amend this critcal error right now)
I end up gifting ppl books( because I like books..I think...irrespective of whether they do or don't.. ;))..

My foray in literature happened with Hindi "Sahitya"...
I read all the stories in my hindi book...( I am starting from the beginning..from the time I was in second or third grade)...then I moved on to the books of my neighborhood bhaiyya and didis who were 4 or 5 years ahead of me academically...

Then some years were spent reading Russian books translated into Hindi..courtesy one "Raduga Publication".I was sick for sometime and couldn't go to school for about 4 or 5 months..so my Dad bought a load of these Russian books for me.
Some were Russian Folktales( " Roosi Lok Kathayein" to be exact) and some were Sketchbooks.
I loved those stories...
The Hero(or the protagonist) was always called Ivan ..or sometimes Andrei , who'll eventually fall in love with a beautiful girl with some exotic Russian name . But , the king would also have his evil eye on her and to get her, he would send Ivan for seemingly impossible tasks .
Ivan would return home dejected and the pretty and intelligent wife( oh yes, now I remember, her name would usually be "Buddhimati Vasilisa ") would tell him...."So jao. Raat ki baat kabhi sach nahin hoti . Subah zaroor koi rasta nikal aayega ".( I still think of this phrase sometimes when in despair...That's why I end up sleeping so much ..)

And then in the morning she would wake him up with a solution. She would give him a ball of wool with the instructionto follow the ball wherever it rolls.And the woollen ball would always stop in front of a hut rotating on "murgi ka panja"..Ivan would ask it to stop so that he can enter it.Once inside he would be greeted by the witch "Dhaddho Baba Yaga" with a
stump for a nose and a broomstick for an automobile.The witch would ask " Ae rusi khoon tu kahan se aaya hai aur kahan jayega".Ultimately, she would agree to help Ivan in his tasks.She would sometimes refer him to her other sisters also.In the end, Ivan would return victorious after crossing " nau tiya sattais"( nine threes are twenty seven) countries.

One of my favourite stories has the title "Jaao wahan na jaane kahan, Lao use na jaane kise".
Another one which I had really liked was called "Kohkaaf Ka Bandi" .I believe the English version is known as "The Prisoner of Zenda".Here, a soldier returning home is captured and held for ransom by the Tartars( a Russian Tribe ).The story revolves around his attempts to escape and also about his friendship with a young Tartar girl who helps him.

Then , when I reached 7th grade I grew out of this magical world of Russian folk Tales where the wolves could talk and you could go into one ear of a stallion and come out as tall , dark and handsome out of the other,of evil Kings and helpful witches, where one whistle from a notorious dacoit killed hordes of people( from "Seetiwaala Daku"...Believe it or Not !!)

I now entered the Land of Faraway Tree with Enid Blyton where there were no worries and days were spent gorging on orange and cream tarts and jugs full of cold milk and lemonades,where the Five Findouters scurried away when they heard the trin trin of Mr.Goon's ( I think I got the name correct ...apologies if not) bicycle.And now my favourite amongst all the Enid Blyton books..."The Malory Tower" series....with Daryl and Sally and Alicia and
how can we forget ..Gwendoline Mary( who used to brush her hair a thousand times or a hundred maybe ,every night to keep them soft and shiny...I think, once,even my mother gave me some funda like this...I never had the patience or that much
hair...)

Around the same time , I also discovered Mills & Boons and Barbara Cartland.The timing was very wrong...on one hand I was reading all the kiddie Blytons and on the other MB's. At my grandparents home there was a huge collection of Perry Mason also.Initially, I found it interesting...the suave Perry Mason, a little hint of romance between him and the secretary Della Street , and last but not the least, the private investigator Paul Drake. But, then the lengthy court room cross examinations became monotonous, so I hopped on to Sidney Sheldons. I don't know why people love Sidney Sheldon so much...he always has some bizzare and gross sexual drama also going on besides the main story...maybe that's why.

Back to Mallory Towers for a moment...
When I went to a residential school in 9th...my cousin asked me in her letters if we also had midnight feasts...I wrote back saying that we had, albeit of a different kind ( aloo bhujia and tomato sauce).We didn't have a small pool as the girls at Mallory did but even we could go for Horse Riding. This whole residendtial school thing and Mallory Towers remind me of a
term found only in the vocabulary of hostel sudents , "TUCK".ItsBrit term meaning sweets and snack food but for us it meant something from home,something to be excited about and something which won't last for more than one night.

Next , came the classics.."Gone with Wind " and all...But , I never had the patience for Pride and Prejudice kind of books.There was this phase of Danielle Steel also , where the girl is just seventeen and gets married to someone who is fort five or fifty.Then some years down the line she falls in love with someone who is more her age. Though , all this time she also loved
her husband who was old enough to be her father.Then the lover would get killed or something.Basically, by the time thewoman reaches forty or fifty herself ,she has gone through quite a few men.

The books I read and liked in recent times are "To Kill a MockingBird" , "Memoirs of a Geisha" , "Kite Runner" and some more. But, more about them in the next post.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Letter From Abraham Lincoln ....


This is a letter from Abraham Lincoln to his son's headmaster.
I suddenly remembered this because in one of my schools this letter was inscribed very beautifully on a red stone , shaped like a scroll.

So here goes...

"He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just and are not true.
But teach him if you can, the wonder of books.. but also give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hillside.

In school, teach him it is far more honorable to fall than to cheat.....
Teach to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him he is wrong.
Teach him to be gentle with gentlepeople and tough with the tough.
Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone getting on the bandwagon...


Teach him to listen to all men; but teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through.
Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad...

Teach him there is no shame in tears.
Teach him to scoff at cynics and to be beware of too much sweetness..

Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to highest bidders, but never to put a price on his heart and soul.
Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob.. and stand and fight if thinks he is right.
Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.


Let him have the courage to be impatient..
Let him have the patience to be brave.
Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will have faith in humankind.
This is a big order, but see what you can do. . He is such a fine little fellow my son!


- Abraham Lincoln"

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

I Do Not Love You...

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose,or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other waythan this:
where "I" does not exist, nor "You",
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

----Pablo Neruda