HR Woes

Its the 31st of the month and this date usually makes me feel a little useful in life ! because today i usually get to see numbers that are going to get translated into a dinner,groceries,the light i see at night,the salwar kammez i am going to wear and that crazy smile on my brothers face when i let him talk a little while longer to his girlfriend on my phone.Well but today i am not feeling any good at all infact i am feeling very very angry ! angry at being taken for granted when six days of your hard work are just wiped away with a wave of a irresponible hand it just makes your blood boil.HR anywhere around the world is the most @$^&*9 department they thing that they are gods gift to the unfortunate extremely dumb asses who slog their sorry but every freaking day of the week including sunday.when 8 hours is all they will grace their chair with 5 times a week the rest two being the much needed break. When every freaking muscle in your body is singing a himesh reshamaiya tune.

You

Thoughts of you cross my mind
Every second that we’re apartI know that you’re the one for me
I knew it from the start
I dream about your smile
In the midst of a busy day
And thank my lucky starsFor sending you my way
My days are so much brighter
Since you came into my life
I see a world of beauty
Each time I look into your eyes
You bring out the best in me
You keep me standing tall
I’ve never been this happy
Till you freed my heart and soul
I think you are amazing
The best there ever could be
With no doubt I can tell
That you’re the only one for me

thinking of you .. :) Thank you ghassan for filling my life with words that still the soul.

Ghassan is a activist working in warn torn palestine.I have never met him neither will I ever.What we share is
a understanding that perhaps comes from the seed of grief,of truely comprehending what sadness is and of
trying to find faith in the swamp of disappointment.they say that the world is bound with energy every single living organism thrives on this rythum.Its perhaps on this tune we dance,with the silhoutte of darkness as a backdrop.

Friday Blues

I am not cut out to write stories not like i will not be able to but because i do not have the patience.Actually its pretty depressing I mean I always thought that it would come effortlessly.
But sitting in one place for a long period of time punching in words constantly trying to put put my dreams onto paper.Thats a Effort. Have concluded that i like my dreams in my mind space
totally untangible.Paper and black ink makes it look all real i dont like it.
But will attempt it nevertheless,dont like the sound of CANT.
I hate the whole world today.I guess not hate,just cant stand it today.would like to stay at home
and stare at my new BIG television.Have been like that for soemtime actually a week totally
BLAH...........................
The colour that i would actually like in my life is the colour RED.

A perfect Union

If I was sitting to write this yesterday words would have been a stream that flowed effortlessly.
Today is a different story....As they say Impact of a situation declines over passage of time and same is the case with my reflections.Its amazing how life turns out to be a reflection in a mirror.
Whats even more amazing is when it stares at you from a 75 mm screen.
For a die hard romantic ,auntumn leaves and melodious music is a sure shot formula of feeling of
being transported in candy land.Kank delivered all that.what it also delivered was a reality punch.Love can be so irrtaional at times, I guess its always irrational. A emotion that is perhaps
the most intense in the hierarchy cannot have a simple equation to it.
Fear of the unknown and the dark has always been a part of my psyche.Coming back home on saturday night when shadows lined my side,light dawned slowly yet steadily.Sadness always coats you with a film that suffoctaes every breath of hope.It takes a lot of effort for one to cut through that.That night I saw it happen,I saw myslef rise above the long list of wants that had
blocked my happiness and As I did that I saw the light that was evading me for the longest time.
Its not about how much love somebody else brings in your life its about how much you cna love soembody else.As a human being its not possible to keep aside everything and love everybody unconditionally,but it is possible to narrow it down to a select few and weave your world around it.
Yesterday night for the first time dreams were not about a union of a man and a woman it was a
union between a woman and child.

Water Water Everywhere !

Water ! thirsting for a drop,throat parched,dry like the barren land, water surrounding you
covering each and every patch of land devouring your existance wiping away your world.
Working for a medium that is supposed to keep the world updated on the incidents of importance it came as a rude shock when i came back home one day and switched on the television. Images of villages totally sumberged in the womb of angry waters,human forms desperately searching for a piece of land ,where they can rest for sometime where their life
is safe from dissolving into nothingness.millions of people displaced ,Lakhs of people evacuated ,hundreds dead.somewhere the numbers stop making sense and what is left is this deep sense of helplessness.
As i sat there dumbed and astounded,the dance of destruction is happening just a few hundred
kilometers away from me and i have no clue.Editorial call or judgement as they say nowdays
is taken in tandem to the target audience. A urban english news channel viewer i guess is not bothered about the devastation of this magnitude hitting its neighbouring village.What he is really intrested in i guess is the bantering of a old man who has filled his pockets with food for oil money or the new supposedly new kid on the cricket block.
seventy five percent of india is still rural,every peddar road apartment has some of its roots in some form or the other in the soil of the rural farm a ancestor or a help who has left his or her family to come and serve the urban rich. How can there be a disconnect ? what are we trying to say that our sensitivities are dead, that destructions steps away doesnt move us,that all that matters to us urbanites is hyped political contoversy and soundbytes of supposedly superstars.
I refuse to buy this theory I refuse to let anybody believe that are hearts have turned so cold ,
we are a nation of responsible beings where compassion reigns in our hearts supreme,where
we come out on the road to offer warm tea to stranded strangers wont we be concerned about
our brother who has lost everything in this wide world and looks at the sky with a drop of water in his eye.

My Weekend 5th-6th auust 2006

As the rain Gods partied in the clouds above.I spend quite a lot of time in front of my television
staring at tom cruise romance bridget jones.The assault of droplets outside my window and the
darkness that the clouds had cloaked the sky added the masala to my already dipping moral.
All that was left for me to dig into my freezer for that block of ice cream.(i dont like cold in cold
weather though.)But obviously that did not keep me from indulging in more karan johar cinema of the hollywood kind.By the time it was sunday evening i had hit a new low,and was on my third round of mush movie when my television decided to desert me too.I was all alone without fiction
to drown myself in, plan B was the radio.Khayamji was my company and his music dripping with
melancholy filled my world.I was having a nice time,well i know this statement comes as a surprise but a sweet melancholy is like bitter choclate.You have to aquire taste for it.

Badi and Me

She is more than a mother to me.She is the reason why i am what i am today.She may not have given me life but she has given me a reason to live.

Birthday Wine and Chicken !

Me And My Family

Passing thought !

I sit at my desk observing the excitement hitting my news room as lok sabha goes up in flames of dissent and avoidable noise over the leak of the pathak report.The importance of the whole instance totally passes me.Maybe because civics and politics has never been my strong subject. Group politics where a fading politician tries a last attempt to survive.I dont see whats so new or suprising in the latest breach of propriety in a land where politicians call the shots from the infrastructure of a jail,this just adds up to the list.We as a sea of indian humanity are used to it. What worries me right now is the cancer of mistrust that has relapsed in the body of trust between india and pakistan.The much ceased guns and going to be fired again,blood id going to be spilled of unsuspecting civilians and kashmir will gain be reduced to a sweltering hell.