Rains outside a mumbai local

It had rained unexpectedly. I was rushing out from this suburban railway station and this sight halted me in my tracks.

I stopped for a few minutes; first to feel sorry, and then to admire her enterprising spirit. In a few minutes folks had gathered behind me assuming that I was a TV reporter. They were appreciating my eye for a good shot. None had anything to say about that frail woman.

PS: I have seen small section of corporate India do "rain harvesting" and now this old woman was so enterprising to take advantage of some unexpected rains.

Rest of us are just passing by, that too in slow motion..

pps: This was my FIRST edit with my new I Mac. However, I still love my old one!

Heres to the misfits , the rebels...

The dinner table...

The class act...

They sat down next to me and started what teenagers do while waiting for a train - non stop talking on various topics. Even though I was absorbed reading a book (on insurgent Obama), I could catch a line here and there making me remember my college days.

Those girls were talking exactly like the ones from my college days. Whoever said that girls of one's youth stay forever young in the minds was correct. Giggles, exam pressures, careers - they were quite adept at covering most topics in no time. An awesome display of camaraderie and friendship.

And then as a train rolled in, they quickly disbursed into two segments. One headed for a first class compartment and the other one , a lone girl ran towards the second class compartment.

And suddenly it became clear: these two were rich girls from well to do families and here was a 'poorer' girl. They would travel a few miles, a few meters away from each other in a train headed towards their common destination.

I wondered: Will they resume their conversation from where it was left off, when they alight? As if there has been no change, no class divide, no difference of roads taken by families in the years gone past?

Empty Room

As you return to the home empty,
left a few weeks ago
the loneliness of the apartment
decides to return to its home
- your empty heart
Finally both find a home

main aur meri tanhayee!

Dukh sabhi ka...

Name: Sukhi Patel, Age: 52, Profession: Farmer, Married with no kids.

As I stood by the Ganges, watching his body consumed by fire, I kept asking all kinds of questions to his relatives and friends. They responded with courtesy, but I could see that they were confused about my relation with him. I stood out separate. They knew that I am not one of them.

Answers I got to my questions helped me construct his life. Brought up a series of images.

Sukhi Patel's only son died of an accident days before he was to get married. Sukhi was never the same again. He took to drinking and now - died of kidney failure.

This is how it mostly ends in small towns and villages.

I thought about his wife and wondered what would happen to her and how she would survive with no child to look after her. I wondered what she must be thinking having gone thru the rituals of breaking bangles, removing sindoor and changing to white. After having lost her son a while back.

I wondered where would he be, had his son not been killed in that accident. I wondered how he might have felt when he had showed up at the same Ganges with the asthiyan of his only son.

I stood there for an hour. Alone. My mind racing in all directions., thinking of anything and everything Sukhi Patel had experienced - like the first crops at his farm, the first look at his wife and how he must have reacted when he found out his wife had delivered a baby boy. What were his dreams for himself and his family. What did he think about world affairs if he ever did, and what was his favorite sport? What kind of movies did he see and who was his favorite heroine?

And then a thought occurred to me.

When I was thinking so much about a stranger whose existence I had no clue till about an hour ago...

What was his "creator" thinking about when Sukhi Patel's kidneys failed?

ps: As I was leaving, his friend asked me who I was and whether I had known Sukhi Patel. I told him that I just happened to be at the Ghat, stopped by to see a cremation, and did not know him at all.

Magar, Main us ke dukh ko jantaa hoon....

Sukh sab ka alag alag ho sakta hai. Dukh sabhi ka ek hai.

Sang.....

Sang Pyaar Rahe -

Main Rahoon na Rahoon...

If I had known...

"If I had known that divorcing her would result in my promotion then I would have divorced her much earlier"

This was Mullah commenting on his recent promotion to the top. At home.

The story goes something like this:

When Mullah's divorce came through and when the time came for both of them to part ways, G suddenly developed a new affection for him. May be it had something to do with the fact that her love - the jailbird for who she was leaving Mullah - was denied parole that she had been counting on. Seemed he is to be in for another 7 years with no chance of being out.

The 'Lovers' of today are very good at calculations... And so instead of going through the hassles of living a single life again, she 'promoted' Mullah instead. So now the hierarchy at home stands thus:

1. Mullah -

2. His FPN - i.e. G

3. the internet -

4. Oscar (dog) -

5.Becky (dog).

Mullah just switched places with Becky . Now he actually greeted on his return from work, food is being cooked more frequently than before by the one who never cooked, Mullah is valued far more than he ever been - and yes - he is loving it.

The great game of wooing the opposite sex only to take the one woo'd for granted after marriage is going on all over. And this has always been so. Most of my friends here and in India complain of the same problem. They all see themselves valued in the beginning, only to end up like a "handyman" as marriage fades into a distance and kids grow up.

In some cases, sooner than later.. Even in weeks...

And there are more divorces in the making...

In India, when the elections are announced, a "model code of conduct" is enforced which makes sure that no false promises are made to woo the electorate and to get their votes. Why cant we have the same model code of conduct in our interpersonal relationships? Why do we couples build the foundation of our relationships on falsehood and lies?

In the US the divorce rate is about 60% and Mullah's divorce just became another statistics.

It was not supposed to be this way. It need have been this way... 'Living together' without living together.

(Had uploaded my blog using this iphone... am still trying to get my bearings. on it.. .If I had known more about it...it is good to be back at a good ol' laptop....)

Jhoot bolo aur Salaa..

Next month will bring the 6th month anniversary of Siddik Bhai's death. In these six months there is not a single day when I have not thought of him. Not one. My mind has not yet truly accepted his passing away. I still can not believe that a man like him can just go away. I often wonder where must he be now? How is it possible to reduce such a man to just bones and flesh?

He was an awesome friend, fearless, loyal, funny who could size anyone up in less than thirty seconds. Yet, he was full of superstitions and used to visit these Baba log for advice, to help him break his imaginary jinx's, for 'showing' him the way. I used to joke that Baba log should come to you for your blessing on increasing profits and clientele!

One time we drove all over Sion Koliwada area, looking for a certain baba. There was this girl, who he thought I must have, since I loved her. I told him loving someone is not enough, there is a lot involved in piyar viyar these days. He was confident that after the baba does his chila or wazeefa, this girl would come running to me".

These things never impressed me and my argument was " agar India main ek sacche aur shareef aadmi ko apni mahobbat hasil karne in sab cheezon ki zaroorat pade, then I dont want her".

He came back with the line that will always haunt me. "Party tum samajhte nahi ho yaar - Aaj kal sach ko hi help chaaiye hoti hai - Jhoot bolo aur salaa udne lagtaa hai".

Jhoot bolo aur salaa udne lagtaa hai.

We have all seen how jhoot flew from the powerful capitals of the world and rained as bombs and missiles on innocent women and children. We see how jhoot flies in Parliaments, Court Rooms, in coffee houses, in Investment Banks. We see everyday how jhoot flies in relations, in emotions and expressions...

Back then,we stopped by at a slum someplace near Wadala. He spoke to the baba about my love issue and requested him to do something, "for her to come running to me." The Baba, who was in his 50s asked me my name. After hearing my last name the Baba reacted unexpectedly and told him " Ye to Sayed hain, ab main inko kiya kahoon? aap sarkaar hamare liye dua karen"

We returned 'emptyhanded' as baba decided the solution was within me.

I thought the solution lay in green backs. But that is a different story.

This January, on my trip home, when we met at the regular adda on the footpath of Mumbai, unexpectedly a friend of his, brought up the subject of Siddikbhai's divorce and said, 'isn't today the 15th anniversary of your divorce?'. I flared up. I hate people who are not sensitive to others. Why torture him with the past, instead of making him look forward?

Later that night when he was dropping me home, I mentioned that he is settled and healthy, and now he should get married....

I flew back to the US soon after. He went into a coma in four days and passed away within a fortnight.

Whenever I see a jhoot fly, I hear his words " "Party, tum samajhte nahi ho yaar - Aaj kal sach ko hi help chaaiye hoti hai - Jhoot bolo aur salaa udne lagtaa hai".

I am recording a song these days. One character in the song is a Mumbai street smart chap, who says " Apun to salaa bachele main bhi reh gaila hai" - I am the left over from the left overs.

No prize for guessing who this character is.

He left without saying a word to anyone - without saying good bye!!

The victims..

This is the line, a friend philosopher and guide used to calm me down. There is so much wisdom out there which explains the games people play and why they play!

It not only helped, but also made me empathize with some of the characters of my story....

We came in for peace...

40 years ago, this week, man left a plaque on the surface of the moon that reads: "Here Men From The Planet Earth First Set Foot Upon the Moon, July 1969 A.D. We Came in Peace For All Mankind." (NASA)

40 years later, man is still struggling with the definition of the words "peace for all Mankind". It makes you wonder what would have happened, had we discovered moon to have a "hospitable, life sustaining atmosphere?".

knowing the "nature of the beast", one can comfortably say that the moon's hospitable environment and natural resources would have started the new race for the control including violent confiscation.

We would have witnessed same killing machines, bombs, missiles, dead youth, destruction, blood on the surface of the moon, widows, orphans, poverty, diseases, tears....

Just like here on earth!

Aren't we glad moon is not hospitable to humans?

The Resisto-Meter...

A majority, over 70%, of the resistance to the Threshold India Initiative is coming from those that it intends to serve: the Muslim community.

Whereas my non Muslim friends get excited about the concept in no time, and have been committing themselves with good counsel and intelligent resources.

Why?

Mullah says 517 years of “self inflicted paralysis” will take time to heal. Inertia has its own God dammed appeal.

The good part is that the kids are enthusiastic about the idea, and know what it can achieve for them. As long as there is one 20 year old who thinks she /he can change the World with an idea, create jobs, provide services or products, we will keep moving forward.

We intend to get to the promised land of entrepreneurship , by all means necessary.

God willing!

Hue tum dost jis ke...

i like 2459 the best...

the shades of white of the pillars...

the shades of blue of your attire...

the 'so near yet so far' expression of your eyes...

the non-touristy nature of the pic...

you are leaning against the pillar yet not for its support... there is a rock solid nature to your stance....

ps: This is how a friend described this picture taken outside the Jefferson Memorial. Tareef kise pasand nahi bhai? LOL...

Wahin Kahin ek ....

Sulagti yadon ka Dariya Udhar jo behta hai

Wahin kahin Ek Be Wafa bhi Rehtaa hai..

On a recent road trip to Obama land, Washington DC, I passed through some small towns that had rivers, broken bridges, one way streets and forgotten paths. I dont know what town I was passing through, when this stanza started descending on me. khair...ab kiya farak padtaa hai...

I would like to complete this ghazal and see where it leads to, but I would rather leave it as it is - just one sher, one khyaal, one lamhaa...

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Tere bin...

Bichad ke tum se shahr ye kaisa veerana sa lagtaa hai

Ab to yahan pe hud se bhi rishta anjana sa lagtaa hai

Kal tak to manoos tha mujh se, baaten karta, hans deta tha

kiya hua, aaj ye chaand kiyoon begana sa lagtaa hai ?

Jab se gayi ho, dil bhi chup, hum bhi hain khamosh bahut

Bina tumhare yu hi Jeena, Janaa - Mar jaana sa lagtaa hai

kal hi mile hum, par un nazron main mere khwaab bahut

Sach Sach bataon tum se rishtaa, khoob purana lagtaa hai

(C) shahid Parvez Sayed

This did not turn out the way I expected, but how many things do?.

WE have the power to...

We realized we may have preempted Mr Obama's speech by about six months - at least a part of it :-)....

That in itself is a reason to celebrate !

The first signs...

I am sorry...," Home Minister P Chidambaram today told Kandhamal riot victims during a visit to one of the relief camps in Phulbani.

"I am sorry that certain things happened last year and you have been brought to these camps. But you must go back to your villages. I am here to tell you, don't fear, whatever happened was wrong. Build your churches and practice your dharma," ( P.C.Chidambaram, Indian Express, June 25, 2009)

To me, these lines and not 6% GDP growth or Nuclear Club membership makes India a great nation worth living. If a nation can not guarantee life, liberty and pursuit of happiness to its citizens, it has no business to be called a nation with thousands of years civilization behind it.

These lines should have been spoken after mini holocaust of 1984, 1987, 1991 and 2002 so on, but its never too late. The very fact that the home minister made these statements without any political necessity of an upcoming election or so speaks volume about the coming of age of Indian democracy and its politicians. This comes like a matter of fact, honest apology from the government that had failed to safeguard not only Kanhdamal victims, but also the attack on the person whose murder was considered as licence to kill by some people.

I always joke with Mullah Luis that when you guys go to elect the new President, make sure you realize how much influence he or she is going to have on other parts of the world. It is like politician all over the World take cues from the US President and react accordingly.

I don't know how much the man in white (Rahul) or the man in the White House (Obama) is responsible for a different kind of politics in the World today, but one can see the same mindset reflecting through the statements of Mr. Chidambaram.

At the same time I don't want to discount the credentials of Mr Chidambaram, as he has been a great statesman who never indulged in the poliitcs of caste, race, hate and division.

I hope India enters the new era where differences are debated respectfully, where inclusivity is the new mantra, and where each man is looked as the mirror image of God, irrespective of his or her religion, caste and status.

I am sure this is what the great Vedas brought to us thousands of years ago, but we never fully understood and practiced it!

It's never too late...

India Se...

India Se, a Singapore based Life Style magazine featured Threshold India in its June 2009 issue.

We must be doing something right....

Adriana...

Its been a year now that Adriana left for Jordan, the home of her husband, of her children - her home!

I met her when she was introduced as a new employee, one and half years ago. I welcomed her to the group, and offered her fruits joking that I "sell" them. The next day she came up to me with 25 cents in her hand to "buy" an apple. We picked her on that act for a long time!

What stuck me most about her was that she was 7/8 months pregnant when she came to work with us. Mullah and I wondered what made her decide to work now, and where is her husband? We found out that she is half Arab half South American, married to an Arab she met while in college. They married and moved to Jordan where she had two girls. Everything was hunky dory till in -law bugs got to her. Things got so worst that she left Jordan on a filmy excuse, and vowed never to return.

She was educated at a prestigious engineering university in the South and was prepared to raise her kids alone.

As the D day got closer, we asked her what should we do in case it happens at work? She explained what to expect and how to deal with it. We got her insurance info and all the phone numbers in case of such an emergency.

I have lived most of my life away from home - away from all the natural occurrences that happen in an every day life. It was weired for me to hang around and work with a woman who was so close to child birth. I did not know what to expect. The only experience I have of child birth is from my childhood. I was 12 , when my goat gave birth in Farrukhabad. Even then, I had no clue as to how this goat kid showed up one morning. Those days kids of 12 were really 12 years old. When my nieces and nephews started showing up, I was away travelling to some place or returning from somewhere, usually after long stays. I missed all that goes into child birth.

I grew restless as to how are we going to take her to the hospital from work. There is a long walk to the parking lot, and I was worried about the delay in reaching the hospital. She told me all about expansion and contractions which freaked me out more. She had done it twice so she was calm and collected. I was getting panicky with her description of things to come, and wanted to know who is going to drive her etc. Finally she gave up and said " Shahid, don't you worry, you sit in the backseat and I will drive you to the hospital!!"

She took a 2 months leave after the delivery. We sent her the biggest bouquet we could find in the flower shop. She was very happy, yet sad, for not having her husband around.

When she returned to work, I could sense she did not want to be there. She wanted to be with her baby. A Mother's DNA does not give a crap about 9-5 gig. One day , I saw a bottle of milk in our refrigerator which brought more respect for womanhood. Appearently, on her breaks, she used to milk herself and keep bottles in the fridge, so that she could feed her baby in the evening. I think the scarifies women make in the life cycle should place them in the top position in the food chain. Men should be somewhere in the 7the place...

One day, I engaged her and enquired more about her life. She mentioned all her grievances, the expectations from her in laws and pains of staying in a foreign country etc. I listened and acknowledged her challenges. I ended the conversation by saying "Three girls need a dad around in order to have a normal childhood. When she can act for 8 hours in this job, what stops her from acting 10 minutes in front of her mom-in-law? This is a small price to pay for the security and well beings of the kids..."

The next day she announced that she is returning to Jordan, to be with her husband. She wanted to give her girls their father back. That was a big surprise for everyone. When I inquired what made her decide to go back, she said " What you said Shahid, and how you said it yesterday. No one made me see life that way!"

Soon she started taking interest in my life. She wanted me to get married and tried to set me up with a couple of Turkish girls. One day she brought pictures of them, and wanted me to pick one so that she could arrange for an accidental meeting.

A one liner from me resulted in a laughter, and that was enough to change the topic. She often complained and wondered why I don't take my life seriously. Why do I make fun of everything in life except social activism and films? Why am I so secure with my loneliness?

I had no answer back then. I don't even now.

She left last June, leaving a thank you card for all of us. That card is still stuck at the place where she had left it. No one has heard from her. She had mentioned the non availability of Internet in that part of the world.

I hope she is complete, happy and living a blissful life. It gives me a great pleasure to visualize her living happily with her husband and kids.

Words can be magical...use them wisely!

Top 10 indicators that...

Mullah Luis send me these and they are fun...enjoy!

Top Ten Indicators that the economy is bad...
1) CEO's are now joining miniature golf clubs
2) I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail
3) I went to buy a toaster oven and they gave me a bank
4) HotWheels and Matchbox car companies are now trading higher than GM in the stock market
5) Obama met with small businesses - GE, Pfizer, Chrysler, Citigroup and GM- to discuss the stimulus package
6) The most highly-paid job is now jury duty.
7) People in Beverly Hills are firing their nannies and are learning their children’s names
8) Motel Six no longer leaves the lights on
9) The mafia is laying off judges
10) If the bank returns your check marked "insufficient funds" you have to call them and ask if they means you or them!!!!