Secured Be-wafaiyan..

I did not realize the difficulty I am going to face transporting new TV to my house when I bought it. So here I was, in my parking lot experiencing what I call an "American moment" which basically means "you are always alone every time - all the time!". Contrast that to an Indian version of it which means " You are never- ever-goddamned ever alone!".

I was about to give a shout at Mullah or Manohar when I saw these two kids approach me. They offered to help me with TV and I graciously accepted it. While upstairs they placed the TV at the right place and before I could thank, they asked for my permission to preach me. They belonged to the Chucrh of Mormon and were on a one year assignment preaching away from home. They go door to door sharing good news about their Lord with "hell-bound" people like me.

I offered them seats, cokes and rapt attention but only on one condition, that they will let me also preach for 5 minutes. They accepted and preached me about their faith and how it began when in 1830, a 15 year old boy named Joseph Smith Jr. (1805-1844), had a visit from Jesus Christ who asked him to start a new church now known as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (with headquarters in Salt Lake City, Utah -- a state that is now 70% Mormon).

I don't have a yearning for religious change in my life and am not looking for any other outlet for satisfying my need for a higher being. I am completely at peace being a Muslim even though Yaar log from both the sides of the aisle have done an excellent job turning it into some kind of a terrorist cult. I enjoy the philosophical sides of every religion. Give me a religion, any religion and I will find something to rejoice about.

One of my favorite story is that of Ganesha when he along with his brother was asked by his parents to lagao a chakkar of the world in order to get a toy. The brother runs off in a hurry but Ganehsa just revolves around the parents saying you are my world and I have completed the chakkar of my world. How can you beat that for motivation and love? I use this story sometime to the amazement of my audiences to make a point.

When they finished and gave me the Mormon Bible it was my time to preach as promised. And my convesration went like this:

Me: Kids, how old are you?
Both: 15 and 14
Me: What if I tell you that you can receive a half a million dollars 20 years from now...
Both: How?
Me: Just invest you lunch money in a mutual fund for 20 years.

Their jaws drooped and eyes wide opened - as expected.

Me: I am serious kids. Look if you invest $6 dollars, your lunch money into any mutual fund for 20 years you will have a $500,000 in your account. I don't know what future holds for you and what calamities await you. I don't know which woman is going to drop a nuclear bomb in your heart, or who is going to stab in your back and what disease or divorce you are going to pick up when you are 35. Whatever it is, with half a million dollars in your bank you would be able to deal with it...

When those kids were leaving, I could see from their lit up eyes that my preaching did pay off and they may invest in the market to attain future security!

Whenever I share this story with Mullah; I always complain to him that, no one told me this when I was 15 otherwise I would be a millionaire. Every time he asks "was there any lunch money available to you when you were 15?"

Every time I take a deep sigh.....

Mr. and Mrs. Iyer

This is Jahangir Chaudry, he is muslim...

Just saw Mr. and Mrs. Iyer for the n+100th time.

You make one film like this, and you know you have paid your dues to the humanity. You have paid debts to all those that showed up in your life when you had given up on everything between heaven and earth....

Pure magic indeed!

The truth about cats and dogs...

“People, I can’t see, my mind is dead and I am totally exhausted and will not be able to drive back home-- someone please either drop me home or take me to your house and put me to sleep for tonight.”

I announced that to my "Investment Analysis" class a few weeks ago amid roaring laughter. Folks, enjoyed “put me to sleep” thingy and went back to their conversations. A couple of potential volunteers showed interest and one of them, my favorite one, even stopped by my desk. (You know you have arrived as a writer, when you can predict the reactions of your audiences, and this time I was right on the money.)

Volunteer: Hey, Are you ok? What is going on?
Me: Nothing, just tired. I have too much going on with full time job, script writing and these four courses.
Volunteer: Oh, I am sorry! Take it easy. Look, I would have taken you home but you know Toby lives with me…
Me: That’s cool. I can sleep with Toby in the living room….it is just one night.
Volunteer: Actually, Toby is my dog….
Me: No problem…I can sleep with him.
Volunteer: Well, Toby sleeps with me on my bed…
Me: Like I said, I will sleep wherever Toby sleeps…I am a man of words (You just can not take Mumbai out of a Miya bhai!)

I have been observing American love affair with things doggy for quite sometime now. And I am surprised to see that this habit of "having dogs" has taken obsessive proportions, especially when it comes to blondes FPNs. I have seen simultaneous promotions of dogs and demotions of men in many households as soon as the dogs arrived.

Apna Manohar Parsad Yadav has been noticing it too. The other day we were driving to see “Kismat Konnection” when he started using B*&#$% and Maa&*($#. I asked ke “bhaiyya Manohar kiya bad tameezi hai?” He pointed towards the neighbouring car, which had a ravishing FPN with equally ravishing Chuchuua sitting on her lap – staring at Manohar.
“ Salaa kutte ka bccha Moonh chida raha hai”…. Manohar thundered.
Yaar masoom janwar hai….kiyoon tention lete ho?
‘Us gaud main baith ke koi masoom nahi rehta –dekho kaise!…”

Even Mullah Luis gets fired up when talking about his girl friend and her two dogs. He says, they have cost him almost ten thousand dollars in two years by tearing up the carpets and just messing up the place. What really makes him mad is that his FPN does not consider this additional cost as a cost of maintaining dogs. She thinks that dog cost only dog foods. In addition, it is his duty to “walk them” at least four times a day. As a result he ends up spending more time with dogs than with his southern Belle. Mullah says “In a house cohabited by an FPN, a dog and a man – there is only one who is really enjoying life and it is NOT man!”

And then there are love affairs that get derailed as soon as girls find out that the guy they thought “perfect”, does not like pets. A friend from Dallas, TX dropped her Pakistani boyfriend because he was not fond of dogs and she could not take his indifference to her dog any more. Well, she has no idea that per famous humorist Mushatq Ahamd Yusufi, “Muslims do not take those animals as pets that they can not eat!!”

Well, there are many more cases I can recall. The point is, what is going on in the other half world? What lead to this over obsession with dogs and other pets among females? A sociologist can answer those questions with more authority and qualitative research but me think that women are trying to fill the gap of loyalty left by men. The only claim to fame that dog have is loyalty. They are the only animals on planet that earn their livelihood on being loyal. Women know that dog is the only one who would not react negatively to their ageing process, ups and downs of life and the break down of other things they hold dear…

The second reason that comes readily to mind is the need to love and be loved. We all have this innate need to love someone unconditionally. All right, not all but most of us! And an ugly looking Chihuahua fulfils that need with perfection. Have you seen a dog jump all over you as you enter the house after work? It is a good sight to see and a horrible thing to experience, that in spite of all your charm and wit, a dog wins each time in getting the best deal.

And finally, women of all ages and nationalities like to have kids. It is part of their DNA. They put off having kids due to work and other ambitions. A dog becomes that child that they could not have.

Sometime I think going back to the “basics” is the only way to salvation….

Mullah thinks that women, by taking dogs all the way to beds are trying to convert dog into a human being. He doubts Mr. Darwin’s theory of men going from 4-legged monkey to two-legged men a mater of mere “selection”. He thinks there must have been woman who turned chimps into men…and it is the turn of dogs now to be converted to men. However, he highly doubts if dogs would enjoy being men…

I hope someone is documenting the contribution of women in this doggy evolution…

Well, I ended up driving home after the class. It was well past 11 and I drove at least 50 mph less than the posted speed limit, which was 55 MPH. Thankfully no cop stopped me for driving too slow. What I really wanted to do was to turn around and go north, and show up outside an apartment in Cartersville, GA . I wanted to do a Dahrmendara Paa Ji stunt and call that damn Toby out and shout “ Kutte Kamine bahar nikal, main tera khoon pee jaoonga”…

Well, That did not happen and man lost to a dog, again!

I hate dogs...

"War is over Mom...!"

Suicides among veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan are reaching epidemic proportions. More than 6,000 veterans took their lives in 2005 alone, according to a study by CBS News. By some estimates, veterans are attempting suicide 1,000 times a month. Marine Corporal James Jenkins of New Jersey was one of these unsung casualties of war. A decorated veteran of the Iraq invasion and the Battle of Najaf, he took his own life after serving 22 months overseas. His mother, Cynthia Fleming, shares his story with ANP - a tragedy that is being repeated 15 times a day in this country. ( Source: American News Project)

Un aankhon main...

Bichadte Wakt Un Aankhon Main thi Hamari Ghazal
Ghazal Bhi Woh jo Kisi ki Abhi Sunayi Na Thi......!

Adawaten thi, Taghaful tha, Ranjhishen Thin Magar
Bichadne Waale main Sab kuch tha Be-Wafayi Na thi.

Woh Humsafar tha Magar Us se Hum-Nawayi Na Thi...
Ke Dhoop Chaoon Ka Alam Raha Judayi Na Thi...

Pfc Joseph Dwyer, (1977-2008)

"The photo above captures everything that Americans wanted to believe about the Iraq war in the earliest days of the invasion in 2003. Pfc. Joseph Dwyer, an Army medic whose unit was fighting its way up the Euphrates to Baghdad, cradles a wounded boy. The child is half-naked and helpless, but trusting. Private Dwyer’s face is strained but calm.

That story turned bitter years ago, of course. And the mountain of sorrows keeps growing: Mr. Dwyer died last month in North Carolina. He was 31 and very sick. For years he had been in and out of treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder and addiction. He was seized by fearful delusions and fits of violence and rage. His wife left him to save herself and their young daughter. When the police were called to Mr. Dwyer’s apartment on June 28, he was alone. They broke down the door and found him dying among pill bottles and cans of cleaning solvent that friends said he sniffed to deaden his pain"....(New York Times Editorial, July 15, 2008)

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/military_the_enemy_within

"When people would teasingly call him "war hero" and ask him to tell about his experiences, or about the famous photo, he would steer the conversation toward the others he'd served with. But Dwyer once confided that another image, also involving a child, disturbed him.

He was standing next to a soldier during a firefight when a boy rode up on a bicycle and stopped beside a weapon lying in the dirt. Under his breath, the soldier beside Dwyer whispered, "Don't pick it up, kid. Don't pick it up."

The boy reached for the weapon and was blasted off his bike." - Yahoo news

It is unfortunate that a day after my last blog entry I found this news about Pfc Joe Dwyer. Dwyer told Newsday that he'd lied on a post-deployment questionnaire that asked whether he'd been disturbed by what he'd seen and done in Iraq.

Sad indeed...

Old men start wars...

Jaane kiya Soch ke Rota Raha Qatil Tanha...

"Old men start wars. Young men fight them. And everyone in the middle gets killed. War is natural. Peace is an accident. We're animals." - A dialogue from Sylvester Stallone’s last movie Rambo (2008). Sylvester Stallone edited this dialogue out and you don’t see him say those lines anymore.

Artists are the conscience of any society and no artist should be afraid to tell the truth, otherwise he or she is not an artist but a glorified baniya!

Above an American GI holding a dead baby in Iraq after the bombing that killed her. It is apparent that the baby is dead but a little sensitivity can conclude that a part of this GI is also killed along with her.

No amount of training can prepare you for this and you just can't walk away from this experience "alive". This guy or gal will be in the US whenever his/her time is done and would re-join the civilian life. Everything will go back to normal like parties, shopping, graduation and ball games - only he or she would know that he or she is a "dead man walking!"

War will come to an end sometime. Deads will be counted, memorials on both sides of Atlantic will be built and re-construction will begin. But war will never end for this GI as long as he/she is alive!

This is how it is in the death lane...

She...

My mind is jumping from one thought to another after experiencing this picture. While we went about our business of living life, God knows what happened to this poor thing.

Looks at her closely. It seems like she has not take bath for days. Notice her dress, shoes and hair. Apparently someone did her hair a few weeks before this picture was taken. Her brother has no shoes, no proper cloth, and the reason he is in his senses is because she is taking care of him- somehow. She has her arms over him indicating protection and love.........

Kids gets excited when their picture is taken.....but she is so depressed and down that she does not care anymore...

What the f***k they are debating F***g nuclear deal in the Parliament, when we have more urgent issues to attend?

Qatl ke Baad...

Sab ke Cheron pe Tabassum the Mere Qatl Ke Baad
Naa Jaane Kiya Soch ke Rota Raha Qaatil...Tanhaa?

And then...

This has been a traumatic month for me. Three deaths, two colleagues and a relative in two weeks have disturbed me tremendously. One died yesterday, second one died last week while driving home, and third one died in a hospital at a young age. One was an ex marine, the other was an engineer and the third was a professional in faith based programs.

Where have they gone? How come they just go like that? No good byes no see ya...nothing. I am trying to be normal but cant stop thinking about them. Mullah says" you think too much man and every generation will have to go one day", but that does not help......Its going to be some tough nights for me...

I am not scared of death, but I want a good exit strategy. An exit strategy that calls for thanking folks for loving me, leaving me and coming back to me. A strategy that calls for realizing the dreams and goals, of helping dreamy eyed orphans and adding some value in some lives before I call it quits.

An exit strategy that I do not have right now..

PS: The above grave stone sculpture called " Asleep" was commissioned by Ms. Christina Matheson in the memory of her late husband Mr. Laurence Matheson ( April 25, 1930-Jan 12, 1987) who died at the age of 57 in Australia.

(Artist Peter Schipperheyn, Location: Mt. Macedon Cemetery, Macedon, Victoria)

Yuvraj...

a 7th grader in Bhopal: If you were Prime Minister, what would you do to remove the line between the rich and the poor?

Rahul Gandhi: "There are two ways. First, connect the rural poor to the rest of the world. Part of the reason why people living in remote villages are poor is because they are not connected to the rest of the world. They can be connected by roads, internet and markets which would offer them better prices for their agricultural produce.

Second, seeing it from the human angle, I feel poverty is only a state of mind. Poverty does not mean you don't have money. Even a rich man can be poor if he has not opened his mind to perceive and understand people of different religions, castes and persons from other countries and cultures."

If spontaneous answers are anything to go by, then he sure sounds like a jebroni.

India will be in safe hands - me think....we shall see!

Sunita!

I am enjoying these words since the day they were spoken. The story goes like this: I had called her up a few weeks ago when she was feeling low. I tried to make her laugh by saying whatever I found necessary. This line mirrors my conversation with her that day...

This "Mishra ki Bacchi" can get away with these lines simply because she is one of those revolutionary types that believe in changing the world before their time is up. I suspect it is just a matter of time before she leads one. As you can see she loves good words, good music, good poetry and some not so good looking people as well...

A great friend to know and keep for as long as life permits...

Tanhaiyyan...

Kash Kabhi Zindagi main Yun hota
Sath Tera aye-Hum Nasheen Hota!

Hum Daryaft Aasman Se Ye Karte
"Chaand Tanhaa to Ab Nahi Hota?"

Bad Rukhsat woh Ghar Nahi Lauta
Dil Apna Ek Taraf Nahi Hota?

Itni Tanhaiyon Ka Aadi hoon
Khwabon ka Bhi Guzar Nahi Hota

Jaane Kahaan, Kis Haal Main Hoga?
Ek Chera Jo Dhundlaa Nahi Hota

Shahid, Wohi Manzilen, Wohi Hausle...
Uthaa Kadaam ke Dekh Kiya Nahi Hota?

(c) Shahid Sayed, July 1, 2008

a Jihad of my own...

Well, my film has run into troubles even before the shooting began. Here is what happened.

A noted journalist from mainstream media found my story "interesting" and was pitching for me to appear on a prestigious local news paper. When he called me a few months ago and said " I am going to make you a star" - I thought I must be doing something right.

But that was before I shared the you tube link of " A jihad of my own" with him. I was holding the line waiting for him to watch the teaser and react. He came back on the phone with a distinctly different tone and said' "NOW you are scaring me buddy!"

A sweet little Blondie FPN, 13 years younger to me who had agreed to play Jennifer and was all excited at the possibilities it will offer, until she saw the that teaser. She showed up the next day with " I am sorry , can't do it" written all over her face!

My friends, here and in India advised me against going ahead with the project. "Make some comedy" one said, "people have spent lives doing research on politico/ religious topic, make sure you don't screw up" said the other. One of them even informed me about how cast and crew of " Khuda ke Liye" have went into hiding fearing retribution...

As usual I called Mullah to make sense of why these guys are reacting like this. Mullah too was unsymphtatic, "you are touching the nerves with that word man, don't do it".

I am aghast at these events. What is going on world? How come a word became so dirty that no one wants to associate with it? Even though this film is all about love with a universal massage and absolute minimum violence, why this knee jerk reaction?

There are 1.3 billion Muslims in this World. They are available in every shape, form and colors. 1 out of 5 person on this planet is a Muslim. We interact with them on a daily basis yet we don't know much about them. When in 2005 Americans were asked" what they thought of Muslim and Islam?", a majority 57% responded with "NOTHING". Shouldn't this be a cause of concern for the Muslim world in particular and the entire world in general?

We are living in a different world today and ignoring thy neigbour is not going to cut. Are we going to paint the entire civilization with the color of a few? Then what do we do? What is the way forward?

Ironically these were the questions my film was going to explore....

ps: It ain't that bad folks. I still have Rafiq Batcha, Jeff Shipman and others that are waiting for me to start shooting this film....Don't go away....I will find a way!

War, Inc.

"In 2008, if you are not going to be an activist now, I don't know if you ever are gonna be!" - JohnCusac, a certified jebroni while promoting his latest film War Inc.

War Inc., is a political satire set in Turaqistan, a country occupied by an American private corporation run by a former US Vice-President (Aykroyd). In an effort to monopolize the opportunities the war-torn nation offers, the corporation's CEO hires a troubled hit man (Cusack), to kill a Middle East oil minister.

You may not wanna miss this one...

a Jihad of my own...

Folks,
Here it the teaser. Please let me know what you think....it will be a help!

Woh Humsafar tha...

Woh Humsafar tha magar us se Hum - Nawayi na thi
Ke Dhoop Chaoon ka Alam raha Judai na Thi....

Adawaten thi, Taghaful tha, Ranjishen thin magar...
Bichadne Wale main sabhi kcuh tha Be-Wafayi na thi

Bichadte Waqt Un Aankhon main thi Hamari Ghazal
Ghazal bhi woh jo kisi ko abhi Sunayi na thi...

(Poet: Naseer Turabi, Sung by Aabida Parveen)

Betrayal...

"War is always about betrayal: betrayal of the young by the old, of idealists by cynics, and of troops by politicians.

This bitter knowledge of betrayal has seeped into the ranks of America's Iraq War veterans. It has unleashed a new wave of disillusioned veterans not seen since the Vietnam War. "

"War is the pornography of violence. It has a dark beauty, filled with the monstrous and the grotesque. The Bible calls it "the lust of the eye" and warns believers against it.

War allows us to engage in lusts and passions we keep hidden in the deepest, most private interiors of our fantasy lives. It allows us to destroy not only things and ideas but human beings. "

Chris Hedges is the former Middle East Bureau Chief of the New York Times, a Pulitzer Prize winner, and a senior fellow at the Nation Institute. These lines are from the introduction of his new book, Collateral Damage: America's War Against Iraqi Civilians (Nation Books), which he has co-authored with Laila al-Arian.

Send me your stereotypes…

As guru Javed Akhtar predicted that the change the in the Muslim world will come through women. Here is someone one who is doing her part. She is an MBA and used to work for Apple and Citgroup.

Queen Rania of Jordan, in order to promote dialogue between cultures and civilizations is requesting information on Arab and Muslim stereotypes from March 30 to August 12, 2008. She says she will " break those barriers down and help people see the real Arab world".....

Interesting times indeed...Awesome!

Deewane ka Khwaab...

It sounds like some jebroni poetic mind scripted the scenes that have happened on the World stage in the last few Weeks. Here is a short list...

1: For the first time in the US history a woman or a black person would become the official nominee of the Democratic party and most likely be the next President.

2: Canadian Solar is a Chinese company, based in Canada but listed on NASDAQ. The day I was asked by a friend to buy it, to today it has gone up from $24 to $39.71 a jump of 53% in just a few weeks. I did not buy it , but that is another story!

3: Sterlite Industries out bid other international firms to buy US based copper mining company Asarco for a record breaking tab of $2.6Billions.

4: An Australian Shane Warne lead Rajhstan Royals to victory in IPL finals today. The winning runs came from a Pakistani cricketer Suhail Tanveer.

5:A Maulana from an Indian Madarsa made it to UP Civil services thanks to RSS run coaching school called Sankalp in Delhi.

6: Washington Redskins cheer leaders not only cheered the teams halfway around the world for a game they had no clue about, but also enjoyed the Indian hospitality. The wrost part is they had to "hide" their USPs ( I wish they had Dallas Cowboy Squad instead!!)

I enjoyed witnessing these events unfold. Could not ask for a more gratifying week. Now, there is no risk to your life and property if you decide to celebrate sixer from a Pakistani player, or to be lead by a white man on the field against home-boys. It is kosher now to go to a Madarsa, grow a beard and still be admitted in a RSS run coaching classes to serve your nation...

It seems like what was not achieved by Socialism, Communism and communalism combined is delivered by Capitalism.

What a wonderful World...

ps: The only regret would be a loss of 1 million Iraqi and other lives for no fault of theirs...

Dinasours...

My immediate reaction to this photograph was to laugh out loud, and then thank Allah that finally these guys acknowledged the existence of "dinosaurs" in their countries. We knew it all along...

Now, can we expect these countries to support woman's rights, education and freedom of speech? Can we expect them to realize that wars are fought and won on TV and print media even before a single shots gets fired?

Would it be hard for them to realize that they missed the bus on many fronts of civilizational leadership by romanticizing the past, and by not changing with times? Would it be fair to assume that they will now join the dance of humanity and come out of that "me-victim" mentality?

We shall see...

ps: I apoligize dear reader for going from a french FPN to Diansours in a few days....

2,588,810 and counting...

This is a french TV investigative journalist Melissa Theuriau. Mullah sent me this link with a wish that should "not" be printed nor granted under any circumstances!!

There is something about French woman when they speak french. She is married to an Arab Muslim of Moroccan decent, actor Jamel Debbouze who does comedy for a living. Mullah wonders how these comedians always end up with the Front Page News on the circuit? ( Example: our own Kishor Kumar who edged out Dilip Kumar to win Madhubala).

I reckon making others laugh does have some smiling benefits after all....

Please smile....

Thanks Yaraa...

Friends. Right from nursery days to college and beyond friends contribute so much in our lives, yet we don't recognize them enough. We get stuck with whatever relatives we were born with, but, we choose our friends. We choose them on their merits, goodness of their heart or just for the simple reasons that they were there for us when chips were down. They teach us so much, yet they learn from us, they fight with us and yet they make peace with us. They get critical of us yet they remain non judgmental. Man they are awesome people!

If a jebroni by the name of Mushtaq Singh had not helped poet and script writer Javed Akhtar, the world would not have seen Veeru and Jay's friendship in Sholay. Mushtaq Singh used to pay Javed Akhtar's tuition and boarding expenses when he was attending college in Bhopal. These incidents and many more like thses have had such a profound impression on Javed Saab's mind that in many of his films you see some extra ordinary friendships. One would have to read "Tarkash" to know how his friends created a Javed Akhtar out of a Javed Akhtar....

I am blessed to have some awesome bunch of Friends on both the sides of the Atlantic. When I was leaving India for America several years ago my major fear was not having enough friends in a distant land. My friends back in Mumbai had spoiled me so much that I was scared of not finding someone like them.

I was wrong. I did find them and more...and Jeff Shipman is one of them.

The reason I am writing this post is because I wanted to celebrate my friends and their friendships. All of our friends say something that we enjoy for a long time. I want to record these one liners so that we all can enjoy them. From now on, if any of my friends say something "original" and worth quoting then I am going to post it on this blog. I am beginning this celebration with Jeff "Jadu" Shipman and this is what he said the other day...

"I was at the Virginia Highland and saw this girl jogging next to me. Man, she was sooo beautiful...so beautiful that I could NOT see her face!"

I am willing to live anywhere in the World, endure any kind of hardship provided I am allowed some friends, a library and a tea stall that remains open late at night. I always believed that since beginning of time there is only one woman, one man, one friend and one enemy in our lives. They keep showing up with different names, colors and country of origin but they all are same - the Friends!

The Politics of a politician...

Comic Relief...

For those that are tired of hearing the word "appeasement" from our friends on the right side of the aisle in India, this guy will provide some comic relief...

Hatred, bigotry and terrorism knows no barrier, color and nationality. They all take cues from the same book. The problem is we are living in a different world where you just can not Bull shit your way out - specially if you run into a jebroni like Chris Matthews.

This is journalism at its best...Enjoy!

Tum...

PG 17...

Mullah Luis's current girl friend made him buy some of the most " expensive plastic" that a man can buy! Obviously he was not happy about it.

Today while we were whining and complaining about the the Iraq war, the great "tamasha" called Presidential election, food shortages, and volatility of FSLR during our daily bitching session also called " Lunch time"; he brought this news to me. I shared my thoughts on this issue and calmed him down by saying it is a passing phase. I also told him that for this amount of money he could have married a nice wafa-parwar FPN from India....

After keeping the US economy going by their spending sprees, plastic surgery or breast augmentation has become the national obsession in America for the girls ages 18-24. The modern society has put so much premium on "looking good" that girls are going nuts trying to lose weight and add fat wherever needed. The chase to find happiness in wrong places continues unabated. Every generation finds and enjoys its own poison...

"Meh-We Hairat hoon Duniya kiya se kiya ho jayegi?"

Back in the office when I was "number crunching" he dropped this note to me. I enjoyed it and was happy to see all those actuarial sciences classes that he has being taking lately finally yielding some fruits. When I told him this is going on my blog, he approved and signed to make it look more Presidential .....

I will be looking to buy the stocks of those companies that are in this "plastic" business.....coz there is money to be made!

(Photo: Time magazine)

They would abolish it...

And one wonders even after voting for peace in the last 65 years, why are we still getting almost the same policies with new twist and newly coined words.

For MT...

I generally don't get personal on my blog, but sometimes...a man is gotta do what a man is gotta do...
No F****g Peace!

Long weekend...

Chandra Mukhi...

Someone in my group was leaving to get married in Seattle, WA and stopped by at our office for a few minuets. We were happy to have him and soon there were jokes and advices flying all over the place...

When he was about to leave I decided that he shouldn't go empty handed, so I offered him a piece of advice someone gave me several years ago.I was traveling in a train with a girl I hardly knew and had met only a couple of months ago. This middle aged couple with two kids were our fellow passengers.

After we settled down the husband asked if we recently married. I lied and said yes. His name was some Mr. Agarwal and he was a film producer. He was flirting with his beautiful wife. I tell ya , there is no better sight than to see a husband flirting with wife (It helps if the wife in question is his!) , specially if they were married for a few years.

He said "Look, here is the deal and this is how it is going to be. You like it or not. There are three stages in a women's life after marriage...."

Stage 1: First 6- 9 months after the wedding a wife feels like a chandra Mukhi ( moon light). Sweet and sensual. You can't have enough of her...

Stage 2: Between 9 months to 3 years she feels like a Suraj Mukhi ( Sun Light) and prone to burn if you take it more than you ought to...

Stage 3: And finally my dear between 3 years to the rest of your life she feels like a Jwaala Mukhi ( Volcano)

My instinct told me that he is right on the money, so I asked " Guru is there any way we can just keep the first stage going?" . He said nope, all you can do is to keep a safe distance in all stages so that when she turns into the third type you will not get burned...

My fiend DP had a good laugh and said " I know only two rules to deal with wives: Rule # 1: A wife is never wrong , Rule # 2: Never forget rule # 1

I can say with certainty that my friend DP's wife is going to some happy woman for the rest of her life......

PS: The opinion expressed in this blog belong to Mr. Agarwal ( wherever he is) and author assumes no responsibility of any kind...Peace!

The last lecture.....

Professor Randy Pausch of Carnegie Mellon University diagnosed with pancreatic caner and given 4 months of life by the doctors, delivers his LAST lecture. It is 8 part video and I am attaching first and the last video. He talks about his childhood dreams and advices others about living childhood dreams...good stuff!

He celebrates his wife's birthday in front of the audiences probably for the last time. It is very touching and inspiring stuff. Don't miss what he says at the end of it.

I hope a miracle happens and professor Pausch survives cancer...

Dhoop Kinare...

Here is the singer of Faiz's Ghazal. I think I need to stop before this get out of control...
Peace..

Jaise Virane main...

Dariye mat - Aap ko girne nahi doonga!

Apna Khyaal Rakhna...

This TV serial came out when I was at Saboo Siddik College of Engineering (Mumbai), studying Soil Mechanics, Structural Analysis, hydraulics by day and dreaming, writing poetry n plays by night. Those were the days when innocence was in abundance and faith in humanity was un-shakeable....

It holds so many deeper meanings in my heart that I almost always choose to ignore them. Some knots are best left un-tied...

I discovered the entire 13 episodes serial on you tube and since then its been a disaster....I watch this last episode every day. If there is one title tack that I would like to use in my films then it got to be this ghazal accompanied by guitar...

The breaks-ups and more...

I have been getting some un-wanted phone calls lately. I tried to reason with callers and requested them repeatedly to stop chasing me. Nothing worked. When I ran out of patience and humor, I decided to change my cell number. I hated to let go of that old number as it was picked up by my first girl friend at a Home Depot by the Mall of Georgia...

The new number brought some peace of mind- but not for long. I started getting some seriously troubling messages. Apparently a high school teenager called Kathrine had that number before me. It was revealing and educating experience for me as a writer, to see how kids are behaving these days. One SMS used the word "whore" for her and the other mentioned about fun at the upcoming "prom night ". There were threats and F words and more....I felt sympathy for this girl. Ustaad Nida Fazli is on record:

" Us ke Dushman hain Bahut Aadmi Accha Hoga
Woh bhi Meri Trah Is Shahr main Tanha Hoga!"

It did not take long to figure out who she was running away from. The guy with most messages was called Luke - "the sky-rocket"! When I had enough of it I sent an SMS to Luke - "the sky-rocket" informing him of my gender and sexual orientation. As expected he thought Kathrine was sending him the responses. When some one said there is nothing called free Lunch in America, they really meant it. This "education" was costing me money so I finally called him. I told him that he has two options:

a: Get Katharine's new number or
b: Forget her!

He enjoyed those lines but refused to believe that I do not know her. He thought that I am Kathrine's friend and protecting her. There were other guys too that kept sending messages at odd hours. Some jebroni from Bollywood once said "it is tough to be a woman in the film industry!" I think it is tough to be a woman no matter what industry one is in..I felt for this poor girl. She was facing the same irrational behavior that we all indulge in - ie not accepting the inevitable!

Why people do not move on when relationships fall apart? Why do they wait for one person to act nasty before they lose hope of any reconciliation? Why does it all have to end this way?

I applaud Shahid and Kareena Kapoor for having an exemplary break up. None of them sound bitter when they speak about each other. They both have moved on. It was easy for Kareena as she found a Nawab for the company ( women always find someone first...!!) but poor Shahid was apparently too busy with his career to see the upcoming train wreck. Why can't we all behave like that? Why do we have to come up with allegations and lies to demonize a person before or after the break up?

Mullah has divided womenfolks ( and vice versa for being PC!) in five categories ( Front Page News, Good News, Bad News, Terrible News and Horrible News). He often criticizes me for not differentiating between a Good News and the Bad News types. In this case Luke-"the sky-rocket" was behaving like a bad news....

I dunno about all these Good and bad News. All I know is that if you can write a poem on a woman before you met her, after you met her and after the break up then she is a sure Good News.

Relationships, specially between couples survive on an oxygen called " Trust" and if that " trust" is sucked out then nothing is left. In this start-up joint venture everything is negotiable but trust! We all must recognize that defining moment when trust was broken and move on. There is always someone somewhere waiting...

I did...

Jaane Kiya Soch Kar...

Jaise Virane main...

Raat Yun dil main teri khoi hui yaad aayi
Jaise Viraane main chupke se bahar aa jaye
Jaise Sehraon main haule se chale baad-e-nasiim
Jaise Beemar ko be-Vajh qaraar aa jaaye ...
(Faiz Ahmad Faiz)

Bear Stearns is no more...

I had almost finished my blog discussing the 47% drop in the stock price of Bear Stearns when Mullah Luis called.
" Have you watched the news man?
"You are going to live 100 years man. I was writing about you on my blog"
" Bear Stearns is done man. They are history. JP Morgan did them for $2 a piece"

The topic of this blog was suppose to the bail out of Bear Stearns by two "private" banks, JP Morgan and Federal Reserves. I, had assumed that Federal Reserve is an arm of the US Government ( Like RBI) until Mullah Luis sent me the links above. Federal Reserve is as private as any other business in the US.

Well, the market was expecting that JP Morgan would buy Bear Stearns for $16 per share next week but this was a shocker. It is hard to imagine how a stock which was trading for about $160 a year ago was sold for $2 today. A lot of people are going to wake up with some serious losses tomorrow morning. The markets in Japan, Hong Kong and India are not even opened yet. It is going to be a long night for some folks...

We were reluctant to use the word " Recession" but it sounds like we are now headed for a "Depression"!!

PS: Mullah says he has been so depressed lately that he is beginning to find comfort in word depression. He believes that he can handle a bad depression better than a mere recession....

Fasten your seat belts folks....it is going to be a some hard landing!

Ek Parinda...

For the record...

Well, some folks got the impression that main ne " Tun Party" join kar li hai. Nope, I do not drink. I screw up with full control of mind and senses, imagine what would happen if I allow myself to be uder the infleucne of 21% alcohol!!

However, I do allow myself to come under the influence of words, ideals and smiles.....honest ones that is....

Chor....

It’s been two months since I came back from India. It was just a regular trip down memory lane with some cheers, tears and fears in that order!

Leaving mom behind has always been like taking a hit on my heart. Last few days before my departure I always try to photograph her in my mind. I try to remember every line on her face, her eyes, her smiles and her laugh. Every time I leave home I pray to God to please keep her in good health till I return again...every time I try to hide my tears all the way to the airport...every time!

"Jise Chod Kar koi kabhi na Jata Hoga"
Duniya main koi Shahr to Asia hoga!" - S. Akhtar

What I found most troubling after this last trip was my loss of humor. I am willing to lose anything in this life except my humor. This is my weapon of choice. Its always been. I kept going through my routine hoping one day I will overcome whatever that I was going through. And the moment came Saturday morning when I found my car stolen!

The next thing I did was to call cops and Mullah. Only one of them bothered to show up in about 15 minutes. No, It was not the cop. Mullah, looked around tried to smell me for " Daru Hangover” and asked

" Kal Raat kiya kiya? kis bad tameez ke sath the?"
Tumhare sath tha bhaiyya? Kaisi baaten karte ho?
Woh to theek hai magar mere baad khaan gaye the?
Yaar Bistar pe hi aayaa tha.....woh bhi apne...

Mullah suggested we look around the entire neighborhood to make sure I was not drunk and had not parked it in some one else's parking spot. My pleas went unheard and he convinced me that since I hang around with Walty these days, may be I did take one of those " Car or a Yager Bomb” shots. Walty is a buddie from work and is an expert -alcoholic.

We looked in "other people's parking spots" but could not find my car. I was relieved not to find it there else Mullah would have come up some never ending series of questions. Finally Mullah asked

" Ab kiya karen?"
Karna kiya hai , jis ko zarorat thi woh le gyaa. Tum hi socho kal raat pehli baraf giri thi mausam ki, aur itni sardi main kisi ne chori ka irada kiya matlab samne wale ko zaroorat thi" I had decided, It was time to get philosophical.
" Yaar ye accha nahi hua.....sorry" Mullah was sympathetic.
" Allah Kareem....isi bahane Doosri le lenge"
" Doosri nahi - Teesri.."
"Hmmm – wohi Teesri"

And then, right then Mullah said something which was so true.
" Yaar mere khyaal se ye accha shagun tha - Har baar tumhari life main koi ladki aane se pehle nayi car aayi hai". Mullah backed up his analysis by offering me the past statistics.

We both laughed...

Mullah was right. Every time buying a new car always followed by beginning of new beginnings in my life. Suddenly the loss seemed like a profit discounted at the current interest rate.

Even though I had put that loss in perspective and laughed over it, inside I was feeling violated. How the hell someone just found my car worth stealing? Who the hell was he? Why? How dare he?

Later that night it occurred to me that my loss was so inconsequential compare to the theft that have occurred and is occurring the in world today.

This thief's robbery only affected me but what about those thefts that happen in broad day light on the world stage every day? People steal peace from the entire world and go unpunished; they steal oil, other natural resources and survive to enjoy the loot. They steal democratically elected governments, steal monetary system, steal collective psyche of nations. They steal continents, countries, religion and cultures without feel ing ashamed....

What about those thieves that steal trust and Imaan in the blink of an eye? What about those shameless thieves that don’t realize that robbing of some one's innocence is as a heinous crime as stealing of the most precious gem form the jewelry called life? Who will punish these guys?

The guy who stole my car will get caught and most likely will lose his license to drive and may end up doing time but other glorified thieves will stay around for another opportunity to rob some one of something - somewhere!

ps: Dear Dionne, Mullah did not mention you in that statistics and he does not know that you live in Dallas and that you are learning Urdu/Hindi these days! I will translate this blog whenever you are ready! Peace...

Maa...

Ye Dard...

Ye Dard Hamesha se jo darmyaan raha hai
Yehi Dard to Wahshat ka Samaan Rahaa hai

Isi Dard ki Kasam Khaa ke tum aaj bata do
Kiya ab yu hi khush ho tum itna to bata do?
Main is Dard ko lekar kahin chal doonga
Waade jo kiye tum ne woh sab to bhula do!
Tasveer hai meri, khat hain un ko bhi jala do
Keh do ke tumhen ab meri koi fikr nahi hai
Tanha Raton main ab mera koi Zikr nahi hai

Ye hi Dard to Hamesha se Darmyaan raha hai
Ye hi Dard to Wahshat ka Samaan rahaa hai..

(C) Shahid Sayed

Ghaffara...

His name was Ghaffar Quraishi and he was a Kasai (Butcher). He was, because he is dead now. But why I am writing about a dead butcher on Valentine's Day? That is precisely the reason my friend - the Valentine’s Day.

I was 10 when my Dad took me to Farrukhabad in Western UP. That is when I came in contact with Ghaffara, as he used to be called by everyone. He was handsome in his 20s, resembled Dev Anand in looks and had a pretty captivating smile. Even though he was a butcher and was not much educated, he talked sense and was well respected in the Mahollah.

I had heard that he alone could bring down a bull before performing Zibah. He was so strong and brave, yet I never saw him misbehave or shout at anyone. He was always kind and fun to be around with. He had a different style of smoking cigarettes. Whenever he used to blow smoke in circles I used to admire him. For my impressionable mind he was a perfect Hero.

While his friends used to hit bars in the evening for desi daru he would come to our shop to buy gud a sugar cane product. It helped him un-wind and relax he would preach. Later I fund out that those purchases had nothing to do with un-winding but more to do with Bi-Jaan.

Bibi -Jaan was my close relative. She was pretty, slim and had beautiful eyes. Her dad was a Nawab and moneyed man with connections in the right and wrong places. They had the tallest and the biggest house in the entire neighborhood. That was a problem and Ghaffara knew that. I had noticed that whenever Ghaffara came to the shop singing latest Hindi song Bi-Jaan would head for the roof. It did not take me long to figure out what was going on. They too realized that I am a smart kid - so they promoted me from a bystander to the messenger boy. I enjoyed it as it offered me candies and pocket money.

I never bothered to find out what they were writing to each other and why? I trusted Bi-Jaan so much that there was no question that she would do anything that would bring bad name to the family. And she never did.... in fact they both never did. However I do wanted to see them together for life...

Several years later, I had graduated from college and was visiting UP. I was at this god-forsaken bus stop trying to find my way out that someone called out my name " Shahid" and I could not believe - it was Ghaffara. He had married by then and had wife and kids. I saw his wife and realized he had stopped caring for himself as how could he marry some one who was so unlike him?

His presence had brought Bi-Jaan back for me. He took me aside and asked the question that I knew be would ask.

"Who kaisi hain?"
" Un ka to Inetqaal ho gyaa hai"
"Kiya!" - this is the first time Ghaffara shouted at me.
"Kaise , kab?"
" Pata nahi kiya hua tha unhen - bahut Ilaaj karyaa...magar"

His face turned yellow as if all the blood just sucked out of his body. He kept looking at the ground. I think he was trying to see in his mind Bi Jaan in that qafan. God knows how long he kept looking at the ground. I saw his eyes turned misty. He looked away....

"Unhon ne shaadi ki thi?"
"Nahi"

My bus was leaving. That was the last bus of the night. I wanted to get out from there. He asked me to see him next time when I am in Farrukahabd. I promised I would.

Last December when I went to Farrukhabad, I enquired about him and was shocked to find out that Ghaffara died a few years ago. I had gone there thinking that this time I would have a heart to heart talk with him. And that I understand his pain better now and can relate to him.

I went to that same Mahollah, took pictures of the same big house, which was not that big anymore. This was the same place where a love story began and ended.

That love story failed, as Ghaffara was a small time jebroni with no wealth to flaunt. H was no match to the emirates of Bi-Jaan's dad. I do not know what they had promised each other and what transpired between them, but I do know that they wanted to be together forever. Like any other lover in any part of the world...

Both are dead now. All we have now are two graves 800 kilometers apart in India. What lives in them is not Ghaffara the butcher, or Bi-Jaan the daughter of a rich father but love, the unfulfilled love. Can they unite now? Is it possible for the souls to re-connect from the same point where they parted ways? Does the world 6 feet down yonder has rules and traditions similar to those 6 feet up?

If yes, then the world in hereafter is going to be another boring and suffocating place...as is on this Valentine’s Day for someone in America!

(Picture Courtesy: Bhopal.net, View images)

Jab Koi...

Us din bhi to Barf Padi thi...

Us din bhi to Barf Padi thi
Jis din koi mere kadmo ke nishano ko
mashle-raah samajh peeche chal raha tha
kisi ki sargoshiyon main ye dua thi
kash ke ye baraf hamesha yu hi rahe
aur main tumhare banaye hue nishano pe
chalte chalte Manzil apni jaa pahunchu

Aaj bhi dekho to ye Barf Padi hai...
Goya Aasmano ne Zameen ke canvas par
Abstarct paintings si koi ki hai
ya acchi se koi Ghazal likhi hai

Par Aaj Din kiyoon udaas raha Din bhar?
Hansti hui ye Raat kiyoon Ro padi hai?

(c) Shahid Sayed, January 20, 2008

Ankit Kumar...

"Girat Gunj Chalna bhai"....I asked the first rickshawala that I found waiting outside the Farrukhabad Railway Station. He started moving as soon as I settled in. It was past 10 pm. Roads were deserted and night has taken control of this dusty town about 150 KM from Kanpur in UP.

I was visiting our ancestral home after decades and was feeling so nostalgic to notice that my driver is a kiddo about 14-15 years of age. The moment I realized that I am driven home by an underage kid I wanted to get off his rickshaw, but that would denied him some earning , I thought. I prayed that I become so light in weight that he does not feel that he is carrying a load in his rickshaw. That was a wishful thinking as well....so I engaged in what I do best....

"Kahan ke ho beta?"
"Bewar ke"
"Kiya Umr hai"
"14"
"Padhayee nahi karte?"
"4th tak ki thi...."
"Naam kiya hai tumhara?"
"Ankit Kumar....."
"Ghar main aur kaun hai?"
"Koi nahi akele hain.....ghar chod diya...."
"Maa....maa ko chod diya?"
"Maa mar gayeen.....".
"Hmm ....aur baap?"
"Baap 24 ghante sharab peeta hai...isi liye bhag aaye ghar se...."

I felt depressed after hearing his story. I knew what EXACTLY he was going through. I had known another 14 year old kddo right there in Farrukhabad more than a couple of decades ago who came close to driving rickshaw for a living. It seemed like all this 8.5% growth in GDP has not gone beyond the city limits of Mumbai, Chennai and Banglore.

The other kid was a school student and was studying in class VII when his father passed away. His world changed by 180 degrees in a couple of month. He dropped out of school to support mom and do his part in keeping the fire burning in the kitchen. He did menial jobs from walking behind steam engine on a single track rail line to pick up un-burnt coal pieces to selling kites. He toyed with the idea of driving a rickshaw untill his mother put an end to all this....

His mother, a 43 year old beautiful widow with foresight decided that her son is too "Zaheen" (bright) to be left out of studies, so she sent him to Bombay where he got himself admited in class VIII. And thus begain another round of struggles and trials. He became a " chai wala" to" Istri-wala" to a part time supervisor at a construction site besides contionsously remaining a TOPPER in his school.

His mother was right. That jebroni was a Zaheen student. Mothers know all.....our Ankit Kumar had no mom to know his potential - that's all to it.

By this time we had reached my destination. He was looking tired and exhausted. I got down and asked.

"55 ki Umr main chala loge rickshaw?"
He was quite.
"Phir kiya karoge baccha?. Koi hunar pakad lo jo aage kaam aaye. Ek Tailor 55 main bhi kapda see sakta hai aur mechanic 55 main bhi mechanic ka kaam kar sakta hai - hai na?".
He nodded...
"Jis kaam ka tumhen shaukh ho woh karo - magar rickshaw mat chalao - is main petrol ki jagah khoon jalta hai. Jaldi budhe ho jaoge. Haan beta?" I touched his chin with my palm further pleading my point...

He got down from rickshaw and said..

" Saab aap bahut acche aadmi hain - aaj tak kisi ne hum se is trah baat nahi ki!"
" Meri ex-girl friends bhi ye hi kehti hain ke main accha aadmi hoon......magar problem main nahi tumhara ye rickshaw hai...!!"

He smiled...
" Chod denge 15 dino main - koi kaam seekhenge"
Very good beta....Promise....
"Haan"

I gave him the largest note in my wallet which he refused. I insisted. My hosts realizing that I was being hackled came out of the house asking me if he was charging more. I forced him to take the money and left. Right before getting in the house, I looked back to see if he was gone. Ankit Kumar was standing right there in that cold night - looking at me. Even thugh it was dark outside, I could see a small fire starting in his heart. A fire to succeed - a fire to chase dreams, a fire to utilize talents...

My other 14 years old "almost rickshawala" did.....so can Ankit Kumar!

ps: I had a bsuy schedule the next day and was leaving for Bomaby. Looking back now I think I had a great opportunity to change direction of a life. What if I had postponed my journey by a day and had taken him to some tailor, car mechanic or whatever trade he was interssted in learning. What If I had paid him $100 a month for 6 months to a yaer till he larned the trade? With auto industry booming and Tata's Nano due later this year, rural India would need a lot of garages and mechancis....

Its been more than two weeks since I met Ankit Kumar. I hope he found a way to quit rickhshaw and to do something that can utilize his talents well.....

I feel sad that after God failed him by taking his mother away, his father failed him by becoming a druknard...I too failed him. How could I fail him?...how could one rickshaw-walah fail the other rickshaw -walah?

Der Na Karna ...

Jaane Kiya Soch Kar...

Apni Tanhyae ka Auron se na Shikwaa Karna
Tum Akele hi nahi Who Sabhi Akele hain
Ye Akela Safar Nahi Guzra...

Jaane kiya Soch kar Nahi Guzra?
Ek Pal Raat Bhar Nahi Guzra.....

(Gulzar, Kinara)