Just What Happiness Is

No need for happiness,
when everything goes your way
No need for joy,
when the day overflows with sunshine.

No need for thanksgiving,
when there is plenty
or when there’s no decision to make
about which direction to take.

No need to tell your story,
with the happy ending–
the one where things worked out
Tell that story another day.

No need for Saturday night poetry,
when music and dance fills the air
Give thanks tonight for your loneliness,
Helping you remember just what happiness is..

Kuch yaadein unn lamhon ki

Kuch yaadein unn lamhon ki
Jin lambon mai hum sab saath rahe
Khushiyo se bhare jazbaat rahe
Ek umar guzaari hai humne
Jahan ruthe hue bhi haste the

Kuch Kehte the kuch sunte the
Hum roz subha ja milte the
Toh sab ke chahre khilte the
Kya khubsurat wo manzar hota tha
Sab mil kar baatein karte the
Hum soch ke kitna haste the

Wo gunj humari hasne ki
Ab ek purani yaad bani
Yeh baatein hai unn lamhon ki
Jin lamhon mai hum sab saath rahe.

P.S. Dedicated To All My Friends. Sorry Its In Hindi.
All Contents In My Blog Are Genuine.
Collaboration Of Thoughts Have Resulted This.

This Beginning Is New

"Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain; awake but one, and in, what myriads rise!"
~ Alexander Pope

Our brain believes what our mind believes. Hence, using our mind in a tactical way is the key to make use of the brain so that we can enhance and enrich our lives. Our belief about our capability as individuals is often limited to our past experiences.

Consider this. A grown-up elephant can weigh more than 5 tons and it can break through anything that comes on its way. But this giant animal is controlled with a rope tied to its legs. How? Ever since its birth the baby elephant is tied to a small rope. Every time the elephant moves, the rope would restrict it. During its growing years, it can only move around as much as the rope's length. As it grows older and stronger, the rope is never changed. It looks ridiculously fragile to hold such a strong animal, but years of restricted movement have conditioned the elephant to think that the rope has the power to stop its movement. It has stopped trying to free itself long ago because it failed to do so during its early years. As a result, the elephant remains tied to the brittle rope till its death. Similarly, we often make the false hypothesis that our past occurrences equal our future prospects.

The way we work, plan and define our future depends on our mind which directs our brain.

Jean-Dominique Bauby, the author of The Diving Bell and The Butterfly (later made into a movie) was paralyzed due to a fatal accident. He could not talk and his vision was blurred. Nor could he use his hand to write. He could communicate only by blinking with his left eye. Yet in spite of all these hurdles, he succeeded in penning down one of the bestselling books which he communicated with the blinking of his left eye. His body was paralyzed, but not his mind. The negative experiences in his life were insufficient to shut the doors of his mind. In fact he opened the horizons of his mind to move and surge ahead in life.

I wish that you open the horizons of your mind to start afresh with zeal and vigour. Our mind is like the parachute, it functions only when it is opened.

Let me sign off with the words of Winston Churchill - "The empires of the future are the empires of the mind".

Tell Me One More Time

Tell me one more time,
I can’t fall in love with you
Let me, once again
Hold your hand like I do
Say you won’t forget me
and how we used to be.

So long ago, when we’d walk
our love seemed so true
Remember how we always were
you as me and me as you
In each other’s eyes
the world, grew and grew.

Sometimes I think I can’t go on
knowing you are gone
The memories leave me empty
ain't no life, without you
Give our love one last chance
that’s the least you can do.


Tell me just one more time
I can’t fall in love with you.

Walk Away With Me

Every time I see you

Reminds me…
I don’t want to walk alone
Reach out, take my hand
Walk away with me.

Can’t get past you…
No matter how hard I try
You tie my heart in knots
Impossible to untie
You linger in my thoughts
Sometimes you make me cry
Can’t shake you from my dreams
Don’t even want to try.

Just give us one more chance
To be what we can be
Let the magic of the moment
Paint our hearts, set us free
Don’t want to walk alone
Reach out, take my hand
Walk away with me, Please!

Nothing is kept secret anymore

When I was young and used to look at my dad’s mobile phone and used to curse myself for not being old enough to have one. I used to sneak out my dad’s mobile phone and play with it or make calls to my friends. I felt my life was so incomplete without a mobile, because most of my friends carried one and I didn’t… sigh!

But now that I have a mobile phone, I realized how blessed I was to not have one! Every time I look at it there’s some message or some Kevin, Nick and Joe calling me to take a loan or apply for any insurance schemes, blah blah!, or a friend calling during study hours or family time. Earlier it seems like a foolproof way to live life until the day I realized mobile phones are such a pain in the ass.

Today, we live in the age of technology where I feel everyone suffers from “information diarrhea”. Nothing is accessible without a phone or internet or the latest Blackberry Messenger or WhatsApp Messenger. People who do not have any of these above applications are considered to be dumb. And after the official opening of Facebook, nothing is kept secret, nothing is private or withheld, in fact everything is a matter of public record. What you say or do is all to be “Liked” or “Commented” on and also expected to be remembered till eternity!

The weird thing about Facebook is the rate at which they allow people to change their status; I say it should be restricted to around five times in a day or so. Why do people think others are interested in knowing about their personal lives? Twitter is another online social networking and micro blogging site where your 140 characters are seen by billions of people. People have gone crazy; they post any rubbish! How about this post saying, “The loo here stinks”. That’s so awful! Why on earth would we want to know if you are in a stinky loo or you are unwell? People will definitely go bonkers reading that… or wait, they won’t; because nowadays everyone is posting something like this. They disclose their personal life on social networking sites as if they live on these sites or should I say they live for these sites.

Adding to these problems is the friend suggestion section; even we pressed the ignore button a hundred times a day, Facebook will still keep haunting us until we… uhmm, well that’s not important.

There’s nothing wrong with using these sites, but life is not only about putting a sad smiley or <3 in the status, life is about family and loved ones who are and support each other in reality.

As I conclude I would like to say “Hello” to all the strangers who will read this and will definitely go and post something about me on their pages! I want to tell you all; think before you do things, don’t let these sites eat up your precious time because a day will come when posting and tweeting will make no difference in your life. When you stand, what you did in your life will build your future.

For more such rants Add me as Friend on Facebook (www.facebook.com/HarshOnRocks) or Follow me on Tweeter @singhharsh_7

...LOL

Being a blogger

Lack of work in hand, lots of free time, easy accessibility to internet or an urge to share your ideas with the world, What does it take to be a blogger? The first two reasons as manifestations of vexed minds meant to ridicule people whom they don’t like. Easy accessibility to internet is a contributing factor to blogging becoming a habit. However, the defining factor to be a blogger is an urge to share ones ideas with the world.

One need not be a born writer to blog. Like learning to ride a car or to swim, you can also learn to blog. Just have a pocket diary and make a single line note of all the ideas that may come to your mind throughout the day. At the end of the day, instead of spending your time in front of the television set, get in front of the system and key down your ideas. To begin with blog in quantity, quality will come by itself. Read the blogs of others, this will also give you ideas how to refine your blogging skill and also make new friends. Never be disappointed if your blog goes unnoticed, it happens to everybody and even to the best.

Other than an urge to share my ideas with the world at large, blogging was the safest way out for me to get away from the emotional dump I found myself in a couple of years ago. I could have taken to pleasurable vices of life but choose blogging. Today blogging is an obsession with me, but one which enriches me and not enslaves me. I am forced to think objectively and subjectively on issues which previously did not even come to my attention. I don’t restrict to one aspect of blogging but try my hands in all the spheres. Close to my heart are tribute and general writing but that does not restrict me from dabbling in poetry, satire and creative writing no matter how unconvincing they are.

When you blog, write in the way which is most suited to your personality and thought process, never ape anybody’s style because you will never able to sustain it. Be inspired by other ideas and use of language but not by their style because no two persons are the same. I have a very unconventional way of expressing my thoughts in writing and I have never tried to fiddle with it. My attempts at poetry have been ridiculed as forced rhyming but that does not deter me because that is the only way I know to write poetry. If I have to borrow on a cricketing parallel, Sehwag and Dravid should stick to their styles of batting and not copy each other.

Never believe you have conquered grammar. There is always scope for improvement. Keep the language straight and simple. Use of flowery words is going to turn away most readers. Anybody can blog and to a certain extent that makes it a double edged sword. You don’t have an editor who will do the job of refining the sentence or chopping out the superfluous. You are your own editor in a blog. If you want your blog to be successful, be your own merciless editor. Write on topics which are very close to your heart be it on any personality, society, values, etc. Make some research on the topic you want to write especially if it involves major topics like global warming, bio-fuel, inflation, etc but don’t make it look like an exercise in cut and paste of others works. Add your own touch and ideas to it.

I have found that when you write on serious topics in life, the blog does not become popular. It is quite understandable; people are saddled with enough problems in real life and would not like to carry it to the net also. Express your views in a balanced method and most importantly on topics which interest a larger section of people. This does not mean that I am urging you to write candy floss stuff. Write in a manner which interests, entertains and inspires people. You can choose to write a blog on the grim realities of global warming quoting innumerable statistics and future projections or just write in simple words why you appreciate the contribution of Al Gore, ex-US Vice President towards global warming and how he has successfully demystified the entire issue.

Can blogging be profitable? Yes, Google Adsense does pay for ad clicks on your blog page but the conditions are so hazy that you would love to add the alphabet M before the word ad sense. Blog to appreciate the numbers of views on your blog, the comments you have received and the debate it has generated on your blog site. Blog for the sheer joy of it, other rewards will come in the near future.

IPL Handlers'

IPL has created its own handlers. Here are some of them:-

Duration - Marginally longer than an Indian movie.

Spectators - Not all have come to the stadium to see the match and most importantly everyone does not know cricket.

Viewers - Advertisers spend crazy amounts to catch their eyeball attention for 10 seconds but they prefer to surf channels during ad break.

Pitch - A rectangular piece made of soil but expected to be more flat than a table top.

Batsman - A gladiator whose purpose of existence is to send the ball across or over the boundary as many times as possible.

Bowler - A gladiator who is paid handsomely to get beaten like a henchman in Indian films.

Shot – A verb whose ends justify the means. Simply read as long as you get a boundary does not matter if you executed a late cut over the middle stump.

Umpire - An individual on field whose popularity goes up every time he lifts both the hands vertically upwards.

Score – In India like sensex preferred only when it progresses in geometric progression.

Run Rate – A Jurassic age concept which should be replaced with runs per ball which again is respectable only if it is 1.5 runs per ball.

Economy Rate – Anything which is less than our inflation figures is preferable.

Boundary – The batsman’s capability to frequently strike it, directly increases his endorsements.

Dot Ball – One of the few on-field perks for a bowler.

Maiden – An on-field event whose occurrence is as rare as a total solar eclipse.

Dull Moments – Time taken between over’s.

Average – Considered respectable if it is in double digits for batsmen and single digits for bowlers.

Team Loyalty: - The match itself is a blind date, so who cares.

Spirit of the game – Displayed at the end of a game in form of a handshake sometimes through a slapface.

Cheerleader – What did the poor bar girls do differently to be banned?

Commentators – Rehabilitated cricketers who are paid to dub as talented every guy who can with result swipe the bat/ hurl the ball powerfully.

Sponsors – A set of guys who are desperate to ensure that their name appears on every cricketing gear. Wonders whose logo appears on the most important but least displayed cricket (no prizes for guessing it). A steel or cement company would be an ideal choice with words “keeping family/ friends (either girl or boy) happy” or “protecting the future” or “ensuring continued home entertainment”.

Owners – Individuals who have invested heavily but not allowed to grunt or grumble when their team performs badly.

Last, but not the least, Lalit Modi – Magician. C’mon guys, he should be the Prime Minister of this country. Definitely would come up with an idea how to market petroleum products so that we don’t have to pay every time the rate goes up.

Superstitions Are Not Bad But Don't Cling On Them

Superstition as defined by the Oxford Dictionary means “Excessively credulous belief in and reverence for the super natural. A widely held but irrational belief in supernatural influences, especially as bringing good or bad luck”.

I don’t think there is anybody on this earth, living or dead; who does not have his/her own set of superstitions. Even the most sworn atheist would have superstitions because they transcend the barriers of religion and are more often subconscious.

Superstitions make an individual undesirable in society when it hurts the being of another. A popular superstition is the black cat crossing. I find this superstition most amusing because the black cat never stops its journey because you crossed its path. An inhuman superstition would be elders saying don’t go when a particular person is standing outside the house. An equally ridiculous one is “don’t ask where you are going?” when someone is stepping out of the house. Most of these superstitions have vanished from urban areas because of compulsions to reach our jobs in time. As it is we are not able to reach our jobs on time because of the never ending traffic jams, wonder what would happen if we had to studiously follow these superstitions.

There are many non-hindering superstitions like lucky shirt, color, number, etc. The famous umpire David Shepherd used to hop whenever the score board used to read nelson i.e. 111 or its multiples. The number 13 is dreaded by most westerners as is the day Friday the 13th. These are not desirable because a number does not make or break an individual. People pay huge amounts to get certain fancy numbers for their vehicles. This is very desirable because it means additional revenue for the Government.

Cricketers have their own superstitions. Jimmy Amarnath used to always ensure that a red tag hung out of his back pocket every time he went out to bat; A famous Australian opening batsman used to not change any part of his clothing, if he was not out overnight (actually I think it was a ploy to keep away close in fielders); Sunny Gavaskar always used to go out to bat on the right side of his partner. Even politicians have their own sets of superstitions. The most famous one being Pandit Nehru wearing a red rose on his suit. All the above superstitions are okay (except that of the Australian) because they are personal to individuals.

Coming to myself, I am phobic to the number 3 but that does not mean I would turn away a bag containing 3 bundles of Rs. 1000 notes or a pouch containing 3 diamonds. It is true not only of me but of most. As the famous saying “Baap Bada na bhaiya, sabse bada rupiya”. Even superstitions take a back seat when it comes to money. Superstitions are not bad if they don’t hinder any individual’s freedom, but don’t cling on to them if it means material benefits.

From a Personal Perspective, Rahul Dravid

Rahul is one of the best men I've ever worked with... he's not only a great cricketer, but a great man.

No tribute is enough for Dravid

— Sachin Tendulkar

The world's most respected cricketer over the last 20 years. 

— Michael Vaughan, former England captain

Rahul Dravid - legend! Plain & simple. Congrats on an incredible career! India will miss The Wall.

— Former England captain Kevin Pietersen

Rahul Dravid is one of the all-time greats of the game. One of the top 5 batters I played against. Lara, Sachin, Ponting, Kallis the other four.

— Former England captain Alec Steward

He's probably the nicest guy -- no, he is the nicest guy -- that I've met in cricket. He's a phenomenal man.

— Shane Watson, Australia all-rounder

Jam, it was a pleasure & privilege to have played with you and your presence in the dressing room always added to our confidence. Will miss you lots.

— Virender Sehwag on Twitter

I have got the privilege to play with him. A legend and the wall for the team. Inspiration for everybody. Thanks for all the support Rahul Bhai

— Umesh Yadav on Twitter

Once Dravid was set, you needed the bowling equivalent of a dozen cannon firing all at once to blast him down" 

- Australian spin legend Shane Warne in his book "Shane Warne's Century.

Some succeed because they are destined to, but Rahul Dravid succeeded because he was DETERMINED to."

— Former India opener Navjot Singh Sidhu on Twitter

If you can't get along with Dravid, then you're struggling in life.

— Brett Lee

I would echo everyone's praise when we say 'Thank you Rahul. Thank you for what you have given to Indian cricket and we wish you very, very well. He is actually irreplaceable. None of us want to see such players go away, we like to think they are permanent. Not only has he been a great player but also a great role model.

— BCCI president N Srinivasan

 __________________________________________________

These’s comment is an apt reflection of the enormous esteem that former India captain Rahul Dravid is held in because of his on and off the field conduct during his illustrious and glittering 16-year international career. And, Dravid achieved that without much fanfare through his innumerable gritty knocks, mental strength, discipline as well as his positive and inspirational attitude to the sport and life. Dravid respects the game's traditions and has been a shining example of the ideals associated with the game. All good things come to an end; but there are some things one wished continued for eternity.

Dear Rahul,

This is not going to be easy. But I will try. One sentence at a time.

Congratulations. Is that appropriate? That’s what people at work say when someone quits. And, despite the anguish surrounding your decision, this is supposed to be a happy day. At least I would like to think of it that way.

I expected you to finish in Adelaide. The same Adelaide where, in 2003, you found gold at the end of the rainbow. The same Adelaide where another colossus, Adam Gilchrist, retired four years ago, his wife and children sitting among the press, his voice breaking towards the end of each sentence, tears trickling down his cheeks as the press conference wound down.

But the Chinnaswamy Stadium fits well. That’s where it all began. And that’s where it ends. Like Gilly, you leave with your family and former team-mates watching over your retirement announcement. And like him, you leave amid breaking voices and teary eyes.

There is a constant temptation, especially when a cricketer retires, to draw comparisons. We live in a world that loves definitives. It frowns upon ambiguity. We want to determine your exact location in the pantheon. I will refrain from this. I am sure you are tired of being compared to other great Indian batsmen.  And I am not going to compare you.

But I must tell you something that has bothered me for a long time. You are too conveniently slotted as a specialist batsman. I disagree. That’s too simplistic. For me, you are an all-rounder - not in the way our limited imaginations defines an all-rounder but in a broader, more sweeping, sense.

I find it hard to think of a more versatile cricketer. You were one of our finest short leg fielders. You were, for the most part, a remarkable slip catcher. You have opened the innings, batted at No.3, batted at No.6 (from where you conjured up that 180 in Kolkata). I’m sure you have batted everywhere else.

You have kept wicket, offering an added dimension to the one-day side in two World Cups. You even scored 145 in one of those games. You captained both the Test and one-day teams. Sure things didn’t go according to plan but you were a superb on-field captain. More importantly you were India’s finest vice-captain, an aspect that is often conveniently forgotten. Jeez, you even took some wickets.

There’s something unique about this. In Indian cricket’s hall of fame, you can proudly share a table with Gavaskar and Tendulkar. But you can also share one with Kapil, Mankad and Ganguly - cricketers who excelled in more than one aspect of their game for an extended period of time.

The only people who will understand this are those who you played with. The only people who will begin to appreciate your value to the side are those who you propped up. Which is why it is not the least surprising when Tendulkar said yesterday, ‘There can be no cricketer like Rahul Dravid.’ Hell yeah. It’s too far-fetched.

Talking about Tendulkar, you know my best moment involving you two? Adelaide again. 2003 again. Damien Martyn c Dravid b Tendulkar 38. Ripping legbreak, spanking cut, screaming edge, lunging right hand, gotcha. That was magic. Pure magic. Swung the game. Ignited the series.

What else will I remember? Hmm. That shirt of yours immaculately tucked in. How did you manage to keep it tucked in every single time? I’ll remember the way you chased the ball to the boundary line, as if you were competing in a hundred-meter race. I’ll remember the intensity with which you studied the pitch before the game, like a geologist, scraping the surface with your palms, examining the grains of sand, gauging the direction of the breeze. You loved all these tiny details, didn’t you?

There is a general perception that you have not got the credit you deserve. I don’t know if that is accurate. I wonder if you feel that way. But just you wait. Wait for India to play a Test without you. Wait for the team to lose an early wicket, especially on a challenging pitch. You’ll hear a gazillion sighs, sighs filled with longing. India 8 for 1 and you sitting in his living room, sipping tea and watching TV. I’ll be surprised if you don’t palpably feel a nation’s collective yearning for a sunnier, glorious past.

But even that I may be able to somehow handle. What I won’t be able to come to terms with is not watching you bat. Over the years few things have given me as much joy as watching you construct an innings, hour upon hour, brick upon brick.

An innings of yours would be incomplete without that marks that you masterfully employed along the way: the focused leaves, the immaculate dead-bats, the softening of the grip, the late stroke-play, the ducking, the weaving, the swaying, the head totally still, your eyes always on the ball, the focus, more focus, still more focus, even more focus.

There is no point watching an innings of yours stripped of all this. I’ve cursed all these TV producers who create highlight packages with fours, sixes, and your raised bat after each fifty, a jump after a hundred, more fours, and more sixes and done. Finished. Poof. That’s supposed to be a summation of your innings.

It’s the same with all these photographers who click away and the websites that use those photos to create galleries. None of them even begin to portray the painstaking manner in which you create these pearls. None of them can capture over after over of graft. There is nothing more exhilarating that being exhausted after watching you bat. But there is no technology that can capture that, no software that can simulate it. 

So if my grandson were to ask me about your batting, I would be lost. The only way anyone can begin to understand your craft is by watching you bat through a whole day, by experiencing your pain. There are no short cuts.

There are a million links that pop up on YouTube when I type ‘Rahul Dravid’. All of them show you batting. None of them contain your essence. There is no Rahul Dravid in there.

That’s sad. But maybe that’s also a good thing. I was fortunate to be able to watch you bat. My grandson won’t be as lucky. He’s just going to be born at the wrong time. Let’s go with that. It’s much easier.

As I said, this is supposed to be a happy day. It’s the memories that matter. You’ve left us a world full of them.

So long, Rahul. Adios.

And thank you. It’s been a privilege.

Yours faithfully,

Harsh Singh

_____________________________________________________

I have got so used to watching Dravid coming out at No. 3, and knowing that is not going to happen at the international level ever again is something I find difficult to accept and resign myself to.

But, what I am thankful for is the fact that I got to see Dravid defy the odds and engrave his name as one of the best batsmen to have ever played the game.


Here Are Some Moments:

Annoying Things To Do On An ELEVATOR;

1) Stand silent & motionless in the corner facing the wall without getting off.

2) Greet everyone with a warm handshake and ask him or her to call you admiral.

3) MEOW occasionally.

4) Stare at another passenger for a while. Then announce in horror: “You’re one of them.” –and back away slowly.

5) Say “DING” at each floor.

6) Make explosion noise when someone presses a button.

7) Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and then announce to the person “This is my personal Space”

8) When there’s only other person in the elevator tap them on the shoulder, then pretend it wasn’t you.

9) Drop a pen and wait until someone reaches to help pick it up, and then scream: “That’s mine!”

10) Call out a “Group Hug” then enforce it.

I Feel Low

Today as I was sitting in Green House in my college I feel discourage and without confidence.
I don't know?

what I will do in my life. I feel let down. I feel compromised. I feel bad....Fuckin Bad! I want to shoot all the bastards who have willfully done me wrong.. I want to kill all those fellows.. I want all unworthy people out of my life.. I want to have a life where I can really do what I want.. I want to be happy.. I want to fuckin enjoy my life.. I don't want to wilt under the infra-red focus of any damn Tom Dick and Harry..

Fuck all!!!

Sad Days ..

Having a very sad days, seems as though I'm still not ready, not sure how yet how I’ll pick up all the falling pieces of a neglected life; been giving it my all. Thought it would be enough to transition?

Guess I am not perfectly peaceful, because that’s the only way I get love and freedom. Got to be perfect, at least that is how it seems to me sometimes. Though having partnership, mutual support, community, family, a chance to do this with both feet in, a fucking chance to actually be free and self expressed and totally dedicated to this purpose would have happened…..

Mummy and daddy think I'm a way stronger than I think. I’m trying to embrace more isolation and loneliness and scrapping by all the while continuing to shamanize for everybody. Just can't see how this can happen this week, seems impossible. How much danger am I in, is that why, GOD DAMMIT I wish I knew! I love all people, these circumstances just seem cruel. I want to crawl in a hole and cry for a week.

Kuch Baatein Gujarat Ki..

1. Gujarat is one of the most prosperous states of the country, having a per-capita GDP 3.2 times India's average.

2. If it was a nation it would have been 67th richest nation in the world above many European and Asian economies like China and Ukraine.

3. Gujarat holds many records in India for economic development:

· 20% of India's Industrial Output

· 9% of India's Mineral Production

· 22% of India's exports

· 24% of India's textile production

· 35% of India's pharmaceutical products

· 51% of India's petrochemical production

4. The world's largest ship breaking yard is in Gujarat near Bhavnagar at Alang. 

5. Gujarat ranks first nationwide in gas-based thermal electricity generation with national market share of over 8% and second nationwide in nuclear electricity generation with national market share of over 1%.

6. Over 20% of the S&P CNX 500 conglomerates have corporate offices in Gujarat.

7. Over 35% of the stock market wealth of India is with Gujarati People.

8. Gujarat is having the longest sea shore compared to any other Indian state.

9. Gujarat is having the highest no. of operating airports in India (Total 12).

10. India's 16% of Investment come from Gujarat.

11. Surat is one of the fastest growing cities in the world.

12. Gandhinagar is the Greenest Capital City in whole of Asia.

13. Gujarat is the safest state in India as far as the crime rate is concerned.

14. Gujarat is having one of the lowest crime rate against women among all Indian states.

15. Ahmedabad is ranked 2nd in Real Estate - Ahead of Bangalore,Chennai, Hyderabad, Mumbai & Delhi. 3rd in Policy Initiatives - Ahead of Bangalore, Chennai, Calcutta, Mumbai & Delhi. 4th in Manpower - Ahead of Bangalore,Chennai, Mumbai & Delhi.

જય જય ગરવી ગુજરાત!

Two Idiots – Both Lovable

Remember how as kids we would actually do what the kids of today   SMS each other - ROTFL (Roll On The Floor Laughing). This while watching the antics of the Two Stooges - Oliver and Hardy. Wow who can forget the podgy and bullying Hardy and the lean though not mean simpleton, Laurel? What a laugh riot they were and to think most of their movies were of the voiceless variety!  Nevertheless their actions read antics spoke volumes of the deafening kind. Good clean fun in the sun, right Hon?

Almost every movie of theirs had the inevitable custard pie or cake fight. It was hilarious to see how eventually every one in the room got caught in the frenzy, throwing yummy confectionery at each other. Scenes that took just not the cake but the entire bakery as well! They also loved dunking each other in water. Kitchen sinks, bath tubs, swimming pools, rivers any water body would do. Water crazy couple. They were gay without being gay and we could watch them all day.

Today that type of earthy country bumpkin humour has given way to  the more sophisticated urbane satirical type of humour. Now actors have to read not just the lines but between the lines too, if they are to effectively bond with the audience. The Slapstick genre will probably get you a slap on the face. Or a kick from Jackie Chan. See the type of humour doing the rounds on  and other social networking sites today. In days gone by, you would have been booked and made to do the rounds of the court! The magic of humour in movies now, has taken a back seat. It is the era of the Harry Potters and the Twilight sagas. I find it difficult to wolf down such ghoulish offerings. You could say it’s just not in my blood. Neither am I sying Hogwash or Hogwartz….

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to learn that the era of Stan Laurel has not quite ended. He is back in a new avatar. Yes reincarnation is not the prerogative of just the Dalai Lama. Don’t believe me? Look below and hail the Bruni  new Stan Laurel. Strike one for the resemblance!

                            

Tribute to Mario ...

Two cartoonists lost in almost two months, does seem too much for a country in ‘deficit humour’ to take. First Kutty (aged 90) at the end of October and now Mario Joao Carlos de Rosario de Britto Miranda or Mario Miranda (aged 85). The rapidly diminishing population of frontline editorial artists in the Indian media seems rapidly pushing the art of the daily visual commentary to the edge of extinction. Simultaneously, it creates a new crisis of representation among the picaresque range of our political and social actors — for, who will now observe the tumult of their grand gesture and deftly and surgically prise out of it their petty intent?

As a post-Independence artist, Mario and his humungous menagerie of human types enacting their compulsive narratives within the theatrics of the daily cartoon frame, almost constructed a pan-Indian urban identity into which we felt ourselves being inclusively inducted in faux detail. It seemed to dovetail seamlessly with the national slogan of ‘unity in diversity’, as Mario used his pen-and-ink lines and hatches to mirror back to us a tantalising range of antagonistic types anchored within a choreographed inter-play of the individual and the collective. No wonder he agreed to be part of that ‘pulp-patriotic’ music-video of the 1980s for Doordarshan called Mile sur mera tumhara.

While his quintessentially bewitching and busty Bollywood actress Rajini Nimbupani, helplessly ogled at by an assortment of men with moustaches and leers, anticipates the contemporary flounciness of a Vidya Balan in Dirty Picture by half-a-century, his political stereotype of the smirking, oily, perpetually hamming politico B.C. Bundaldas [forever at the mercy of his resigned looking, superior-mannered and Machiavellian ‘Madrasi’ secretary M.C. Moonswamy] looks disinclined to recede even after all these decades.

The bulge-eyed ‘Boss’ and his nemesis, the curvaceous ‘secretary’ Miss Fonseca, barely fitting into the ‘pocket cartoon’ format, did lighten up many mornings in the self-consciously heavy front pages of the Economic Times, but have also been panned for their rather gratuitous ‘sexist’ content – a charge that the full-blooded Goan artist used to brush aside with raucous laughter. Mario’s ‘women’ were an exotic hybrid between the Westernized Goan, the tightly and skimpily dressed Konkani fisherwomen and Ghati women of tribal descent and the urban, Bambaiyya wannabe socialites with no compunctions about a demonstrative cleavage. Mario’s sharp eye was quick to translate into his drawings the quixotic contradictions and aspirational imitations of this newly surging population of the premiere metropolis Mumbai was becoming and hinting at the internal struggle for identity that was being played out in the use of their day-to-day cultural symbols.

But more fascinating was how Mario could effortlessly create variety and difference in his populous universe. As an artist responding to the hard contrasts of the Indian metropolis, he could unerringly zero in on the visuals of patent absurdity that one is daily bombarded with. Some of his most prolific creations are children — kids in all shapes a sizes; buck-toothed, mop-haired, shaven-headed, wide-eyed; tenderly rendered in abundant detail — staring at the viewer but always active and engaging.

‘Indian idiosyncracies’ are tucked into every corner of his frame, with special send-ups for hardened stereotypes like politicians, priests, teachers, businessmen, sahebs, bosses, drunks, socialites, army types and so on. Rendered equally lovingly are domestic helps (bai-s), drivers, waiters, dabbawalas, policemen and a similar expansive mosaic of humanity, which also brings with its own mosaic of emotions. This is, perhaps, Mario’s greatest gift — this portrait of a pulsing mosaic that we call India.

Within this, there is no intended malice, no vitriol. The strongest ‘critics’ in Mario’s frames are the ubiquitous figure of a startled Gandhiji wanting to jump out of a framed picture on the wall or a frazzled bird perched in a corner with a stentorian look or a baleful pie-dog, perplexed and unable to fathom the complexity of this dystopia and thinking nothing of raising its hind legs at the drainpipe trousers of the curly haired hero proposing ardently to a dismissive Ms. Nimbupani. Critics have slammed this lack of ‘point of view’ or savagery in Mario’s cartoons, choosing therefore to categorise them merely as ‘illustrations’.

But this would be a grave injustice. Mario is as sharp as any of his luminous contemporaries like O.V. Vijayan, R.K. Laxman, Abu Abraham, Kutty or Rajinder Puri in zeroing in on the frailty of his characters. While others chose to poke it and mock it, Mario chose to laugh along and celebrate it.

Of course, Mario’s work over six decades, like that of many of his contemporaries, divides into three segments — the daily cartoon, the graphic for illustrated journals and the more engaged and deeper sketches for publications, particularly on Goa and other countries he visited. He collaborated in half-a-dozen projects besides a vast array of more self-consciously artistic works. It will always rankle that the art establishment did not accept him as one of their own.

But Mario was on another plane. His greatest pleasure was in recording the oddities and ironies of what he saw around him, particularly of those whom he loved. Once, in an interview, asked why he had a proclivity for drawing such big-bosomed ladies, he answered with a deadpan, “Perhaps because I’m married to a South Indian”.

Sir Ronald Searle, the grand old man of international editorial art, whom Mario acknowledged as his mentor, used to describe how he “desperately wanted to put down what was happening around me every day”. That is something we can say today unfailingly about Mario — he gave us a daily picture of ourselves.

A sampling of Mario’s work (seen in action below) - compiled after a search on the net..

Life Changer!

Pain..

A Lot More Pain..

Its increasing..

Giving my heart a Big SHOCK…

My eyes are Numb

Head not working

Can’t speak a word but still talking

Looking for an exist point; where my pain can go

I can’t imagine any more

Its hurts so bad

I’m losing you

I’m alone again

She knows that I love her

But she wants a magical spark,

Which doesn’t come

She kissed a boy; wanted to be together with him

She is happy now

I’m going to leave you

Will go far away

Even destiny can’t make us together.

:’(

.

. 

Need A Tight Warm Hug.. :’(

ABC OF PUNJABIS

A is for Adjust, and a Punjabis will always ask you to adjust

whenever they want to push you around.

B is for Backside, and it has nothing to do with your bum; it is an instruction to go to the rear of a
building, or block, or shop or whatever.

C is for Cloney, and its first name is not George, nor is it a
process for replicating sheep, It is an area where people live, e.g, "Dfence Cloney".

D is for Dhamaka, and Punjabis own this word.

E is for Expanditure, and believe me Punjabis are not scared of spending money - the latest cars, gadgets, marble floors, their ambitions are always expanding.

F is for Fackade, and even though it sounds like a bad word, it is actually just the
front of a building (with backside being the back, of course!).

G is for Gaddi, and the way a Punjabi can pilot a car puts any F1 driver to shame; If the Grand Prix does come to Delhi there's no way Hamilton, Alonso or Kimi can overtake Balvinder, Jasvinder or Sukhvinder.

H is for Ho Jayega Ji; and the moment you hear that, you have to be very careful
because you can be reasonably sure it's not going to happen.

I is for Intezaar ... to know more about it, see P.

J is for Jindagi, and if there's one person who knows how to live life to the full, it's a
Punjabi.

K is for Khanna, Khurana, etc, the Punjabi equivalent of the
Johnses, i.e. keeping up with the Khuranas.

L is for Lovely, but never she is.

M is for ‘Mrooti’, the car that moved an
entire Punjabi generation.

N is for No Problem, Ji, To find out how that works, see H.

O is for Oye, which can be surprise (Oyye!), a hailing (Oyy), anger (OYY!) or pain ( Oy oy oy ).

P is for Paanch Minute, and no matter how near (1 km) or far a Punjabi is
from you (100Km), they usually says they'll reach you in paanch Minute.

Q is for Queue, for which there’s really no word in Punjabi.

R is for Riks, and a Punjabi is always prepared to take one, even if the odds are against them.

S is for Sweetie, Bunty, Pappu and Sonu, who seem to own half the cars in
Delhi.

T is for the official bird of Punjab: Tandoori Chicken.

U is for when U loses your sex appeal and become "Uncle".

V is for VIP phone numbers @ Rs 15 lakh and counting.

W is for War – on the roads.

X is X-rated words, they flow freely in casual conversation on street.

Y is for ‘You nonsense’, anger replacing vocabulary in a shouting match.

Z is for Zigzag., for which you should see G, M and P.

Steve Jobs, the CEO who got fired from his first job

Talk of computers the first thing that strikes anyone today is 'Apple'. Know the success story of the brain behind this massive player.

Inspiring excerpts from the commencement speech by Steve Jobs, at Standord University on June 12, 2005.

Truth be told, I never graduated from college, and this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today, I want to tell you three stories from my life.
Best decisions I ever made The first story is about connecting the dots. I ped out of Reed College after the first six months. Why? Well, it started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption.
She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, but my biological mother found out later that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would go to college.
This was the start in my life. And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. So I decided to out. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms. I returned coke bottles for the five cent deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the seven miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.

Let me give you one example: I decided to take a calligraphy class at Reed College and learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations. None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. If I had never ped out, I would have never ped in on that calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.
Love and Loss

My second story is about love and loss. Woz (Steve Wozniak) and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown into a two billion dollar company with over 4,000 employees. We'd just released our finest creation the Macintosh a year earlier, and then I got fired.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down. I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me: I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit and I decided to start over.

The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life. During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, and I returned to Apple. I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple.

I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
If today were the last day of life

My third story is about death. When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: 'If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right.' It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I've looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I will be dead soon is the most important tool I have ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors told me this was incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for 'prepare to die.' I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, and was told that it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and, thankfully, I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept: No one wants to die. Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalogue created by a fellow named Stewart Brand and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: 'Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.' It was their farewell message.

And I've always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Playing the Fool

There once lived a great mathematician in a village outside Ujjain. He was often called by the local king to advice on matters related to the economy. His reputation had spread as far as Taxila in the North and Kanchi in the South. So it hurt him very much when the village headman told him, "You may be a great mathematician who advises the king on economic matters but your son does not know the value of gold or silver." 

The mathematician called his son and asked, "What is more valuable - gold or silver?" "Gold," said the son. "That is correct. Why is it then that the village headman makes fun of you, claims you do not know the value of gold or silver? He teases me every day. He mocks me before other village elders as a father who neglects his son. This hurts me. I feel everyone in the village is laughing behind my back because you do not know what is more valuable, gold or silver. Explain this to me, son."

So the son of the mathematician told his father the reason why the village headman carried this impression. "Every day on my way to school, the village headman calls me to his house. There, in front of all village elders, he holds out a silver coin in one hand and a gold coin in other. He asks me to pick up the more valuable coin. I pick the silver coin. He laughs, the elders jeer, everyone makes fun of me. And then I go to school. This happens every day. That is why they tell you I do not know the value of gold or silver."

The father was confused. His son knew the value of gold and silver, and yet when asked to choose between a gold coin and silver coin, he always picked the silver coin. "Why don't you pick up the gold coin?" he asked. In response, the son took the father to his room and showed him a box. In the box were at least a hundred silver coins. Turning to his father, the mathematician's son said, "The day I pick up the gold coin, the game will stop. They will stop having fun and I will stop making money."

Sometimes in life, we have to play the fool because our seniors and our peers, and sometimes even our juniors like it. That does not mean we lose in the game of life. It just means allowing others to win in one arena of the game, while we win in the other arena of the game. We have to choose which arena matters to us and which arenas do not.

At the root is the human desire to feel significant. To feel significant, one often has to demonstrate one is superior to others. This leads to people bragging and putting others down. Often this is an emotional need, one that can be quite annoying to onlookers but critical to the one indulging in it. Recognizing this need allows us to endure many an insufferable boss or client. Used well, this endurance does bring dividends.