I drove my loving Alto on Mumbai roads after so long. Here are the 10 things by which you know you are back on the Mumbai roads.(Note: These are my own personal observations and I do not claim any responsibility if you think it as your own thought in motion)
- Bhaiyya rickshawalas.
- Traffic.
- You honk at least once every 2 minutes.
- You abuse at least once every 3 minutes.
- Your mom(and all females in general) still drives the same horrid way
- You feel a strong urge to break traffic signals and signs just for the sake of it.
- Western Express highway is still jammed because of some road work.
- You see signs reading "Work in Progress.Please bear with us" everywhere.
- People strolling in the middle of the road, and giving a sheepish grin after being abused and honked at.
- 93.5 Red FM....Bajate Rahoooooooo.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
For someone who was...
Whenever I am sad,
Whenever I am lonely,
My fatigued mind,
Thinks about her only.
Whenever I am down,
Whenever I am low,
She does something,
Which makes my face glow.
When I fear breaking down,
and desperately need a hand,
Its always been her,
Who makes me stand.
But whenever she has needed,
She has found me too,
I have always done the magic of,
Bringing out her from the blue.
Depression has never reached her,
Whenever I am around,
In my arms she feels,
Safe and sound.
Whenever I am lonely,
My fatigued mind,
Thinks about her only.
Whenever I am down,
Whenever I am low,
She does something,
Which makes my face glow.
When I fear breaking down,
and desperately need a hand,
Its always been her,
Who makes me stand.
But whenever she has needed,
She has found me too,
I have always done the magic of,
Bringing out her from the blue.
Depression has never reached her,
Whenever I am around,
In my arms she feels,
Safe and sound.
Back Home
This is my first blog from the comforts of my home...yes my home in Mumbai.
It has been 4 days since I landed in Mumbai. And have enjoyed every moment of it here. It feels so great to be back home. I now realize what they mean when they say "Home is where heart is".
I look forward to these 15 odd days here. I already have this feeling that its going to be a too short a trip. But I am enjoying while I am here. :)
It has been 4 days since I landed in Mumbai. And have enjoyed every moment of it here. It feels so great to be back home. I now realize what they mean when they say "Home is where heart is".
I look forward to these 15 odd days here. I already have this feeling that its going to be a too short a trip. But I am enjoying while I am here. :)
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Countdown
Countdown has begun.....3 days to go.
Going back home after nearly an year and a half. I am too excited to even write this properly. Last night, I was tossing in my bed till early hours of the morning. I was tired, but had this strange feeling of excitement and energy.
I went on a shopping spree, buying some thing or the other for the close ones and friends. I got a helicopter for my 2 1/2 year old nephew. Sorry Sarvesh,couldn't buy a "vimaaaan". Those guys at the toy store did not have a simple aeroplane. They had all kinds of helicopters and combat planes, but could not find a simple white colored Air India plane.
Lots has changed over the past year and half I have been here. When I reach home, things won't be the same either. There will be someone missing - dad. Dad, I really miss you. I still remember the last hug you gave me at the airport. However, I did not realize it would be our final one. I remember your last words to me. "Know the difference between what is right and what is wrong. Whatever you do, believe in yourself and put the effort. Success will come." Dad, you were a man of few words. But, how I long to hear those few words from you. I saw my friends buying shirts and ties for their father. Even I wanted to buy one for you.....
Going back home after nearly an year and a half. I am too excited to even write this properly. Last night, I was tossing in my bed till early hours of the morning. I was tired, but had this strange feeling of excitement and energy.
I went on a shopping spree, buying some thing or the other for the close ones and friends. I got a helicopter for my 2 1/2 year old nephew. Sorry Sarvesh,couldn't buy a "vimaaaan". Those guys at the toy store did not have a simple aeroplane. They had all kinds of helicopters and combat planes, but could not find a simple white colored Air India plane.
Lots has changed over the past year and half I have been here. When I reach home, things won't be the same either. There will be someone missing - dad. Dad, I really miss you. I still remember the last hug you gave me at the airport. However, I did not realize it would be our final one. I remember your last words to me. "Know the difference between what is right and what is wrong. Whatever you do, believe in yourself and put the effort. Success will come." Dad, you were a man of few words. But, how I long to hear those few words from you. I saw my friends buying shirts and ties for their father. Even I wanted to buy one for you.....
Friday, November 21, 2008
I feared
I feared being alone,
Until I learned to like myself what happens may.
I feared people's opinions,
Until I realized they will have them anyway.
I feared failure,
Until I realized that I fail only if I don't try.
I feared success,
Until I realized I could reach the sky so high.
I feared rejection,
Until I learned to believe me.
I feared pain,
Until from all hesitations I became free.
I feared life,
Until I saw it as my ally.
I feared death,
Until I saw it eye-to-eye.
I feared my destiny,
Until I realized that I am its creator.
I feared fear itself,
Until fear became a traitor.
I feared the past,
Until I realized it no longer could hurt me.
I feared the future,
Until I realized it is the only thing I could look forward to see.
Until I learned to like myself what happens may.
I feared people's opinions,
Until I realized they will have them anyway.
I feared failure,
Until I realized that I fail only if I don't try.
I feared success,
Until I realized I could reach the sky so high.
I feared rejection,
Until I learned to believe me.
I feared pain,
Until from all hesitations I became free.
I feared life,
Until I saw it as my ally.
I feared death,
Until I saw it eye-to-eye.
I feared my destiny,
Until I realized that I am its creator.
I feared fear itself,
Until fear became a traitor.
I feared the past,
Until I realized it no longer could hurt me.
I feared the future,
Until I realized it is the only thing I could look forward to see.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Stuff Desis Like
Ok,I got my "inspiration" to write this blog entry from another blog entry by the same name, which I found somewhere browsing through the Internet. Some of the stuff MIGHT be copied from there (I am saying might, since I have just started writing this.And yes, so far its all original)
When I refer to "desis", I'm referring to Indians who are temporarily/permanently settled in the US. Some entries in the list below come from self experience, some come from observations, while some come from the Internet. Here is the list of some stuff which desis like, not necessarily in the order in which it is listed.
1. Toyota/Honda: This HAS to be the first entry in the list. I have rarely seen a desi driving a car other than Toyota or Honda. Some distinguish themselves from this lot by owning a Nissan. But the reason for it is obvious - high mileage, low cost of maintainance and "Arree, even xyz bought the same car a few months ago, he is having no problems with it so far."
2. Maggi: Lifeline of desi students.
3. Orkut: Tell me a desi who does not check orkut every hour, if not more frequently. Desis also like to change their name on Orkut to something like "Happy Diwali to all" or "India beat Australia,yippee" or "Three days for semester break" or the more concerned "Raj- Im bck,redefyng mah lyfe" . Incase you are searching for a friend and do not find him, chances are he will be one of the people above.
4. Orkut pics: Wherever a desi goes, he should have a pic taken and displayed on Orkut as a display pic, or create a seperate album for it. If a desi goes along with his gang of friends(which is usually the case) to Statue of Liberty for example, each will have 5 types of pics taken- only the monument, desi and monument, desi and best friend and monument, desi and entire gang, desi and entire gang and monument.
5. Russell Peters: RP ROX \m/..Desis relate to him since he is the only desi standup comedian they know, and his jokes are for the desis.He is just awesome. If you do not know who Russell Peters is, then search on youtube. "Somebody is gonna get a hurt real badddd"
6. Successive use of a word: Come,come!!Read this,read this!! Get the drift? Repeating a word or a phrase is the most preferred way of stressing importance , being polite, being assertive, passionately agreeing, requesting a favor or wherever suited. Examples of it include ordering at restaurants ("bring two,two"), welcoming guests ("sit,sit"), appreciating someone or something ("good,good"),or just generally("hmm hmm,yes yes" and "sure,sure").
7. Cricket: Ah, how can I forget cricket. Its a religion, and most desis follow it. Inspite of the time difference, desis regularly follow the Indian team matches. Desis hunt for all possible websites for live streaming ("live-cricket-links.com"). And incase they are unable to watch the live streaming at work/university, then Cricinfo to the rescue. Cricket is religion, Sachin Tendulkar is God.
8. Fellow Desis: Desis love fellow desis. They are comfortable with them, irrespective of the part of India the other person is from. At any given place, desis will be looking around to see if there are any other desis. Even in case of chicks, a desi will look at a desi chick for a second longer than any other blonde/redhead/black(?) chick. And it is not too difficult to strike up a conversation with a fellow desi. Common questions include "Where in India are you from?"," How long have you been here?","So, doing your masters?ohk,what is your major?ohk CS,so are you into databases/distributed networks/security?"
9. Staring: Lets face it. Desis stare, with or without realizing they are doing so. And it is not just the female gender we stare at (we ogle at them,hehe), we stare at one and all. We stare at fellow desis to see if we know them or which part of India he/she is from. We stare at firangs and then wonder why they go around saying hellos and his to you. What else do you expect them to do if they are stared at??They are not desis, they are not used to it. Desis probably do not stare at our Afro-American big brothas, since they will stare back at you. This leads to uncomfortable sitations for the desi, since he has been told to stay away from these supposedly nasty people(no offence).
10. Desi restaurants: Desis love desi restaurants. But obvious. They love it even if the food is bad, ambience is pathetic and its far away from where you stay.
11. Saunf: For the uninitiated , saunf or fennel seeds are the thin little ridged green grain-like thing that desis love to chew on after hearty meals (often times in alarmingly large quantities, almost constituting a large after-meal) . While desis swear by its “mouth freshening” qualities (altoids, be gone!), it also gives them an opportunity to weild their toothpicks to achieve instant dental pleasure (otherwise achieved by the “hygiene no bar - whatever it takes” rule. hint: it grows on your fingers :P). 4 desis going to a restaurant means the small(in desi terms) cup of saunf kept near the exit is empty when they leave.
12. Copying: Desis love copying, and it is a well known fact even across the universities in the US. I doubt if there will be a single university in the US which has not had a case of a desi involved in plagirism. If not his friends, desi will look for answers on Google. And copying is not just restricted to academics. Some part of what you have been reading has also been copied from the Internet. We are well aware of the desi films copying storylines, music and what not from foreign films.
13. Torrentz/Limewire: Desis love these things for free downloads. With the high speed internet which they did not get back in India, desis love these for downloading anything and everything possible. The free downloads include music albums, just released films, porn(ofcourse, did you think you were the only one?) and much more. As RP would put it "You fucking filthy downloaders!!"
14. Google: Desis love Google. To know the reasons a desi uses Google for, please Google it out.
15. White friends: All desis like to be friends with white people. More than being friends with them, they like to show off and talk about them. How many times have you heard a desi rant "You know last weekend when I had gone out WITH MY FRIENDS ADAM, MATT AND HIS GIRLFRIEND RACHEL.......". Some desis would call you near them and show their facebook profile saying "Hey, look at this chick. She is a friend from university". 85% of these white chicks wouldn't even have said anything excpet the courteous hi's and hellos. But our desi friend thinks that she has the hots for him.
16. McDonald's: Desis love McDonald's for 3 main reasons: Dollar menu, dollar menu and dollar menu. Typical order from a desi at MacD "I will have 1 burger, 1 fries and 1 coke. Chicken burger haa. And coke refill is free na?"
17. Swearing: Desis love to swear. Infact, all Indians are genetically potent swearers. Desis add a special twist to the usual swearing - "Fuck you biatch,bhaindchod". And they say this to even the firangs. As if that poor guy is gonna understand the last word of the sentence.(Although firangs in Gracies' cafeteria at my university would reply back "Gaand mara chodu"...hehe).
18. Sharing: Desis love to share - be it pirated softwares, books, clothes or cars. If a desi finds something interesting on the net, he will share it with other desis - "hey..look at this new mms clip. mast maal hai" or "hey,look at this website, it contains the code for our assignment;but make sure you change it a bit". Not only is the virtue of sharing used to save money but it is also used to save space. Desis achieve this by making sure that there is at least one more person than the legal number of people allowed to stay in the apartment.
19. Desi parties: Desi parties can be held in various locations ranging from offcampus apartments to downtown night clubs, with many reasons or no reasons whatsoever. The party is hyped weeks in advance, mainly through word of mouth publicity. Gals with skimpy costumes and dudes with jackets and gelled hair are present everywhere. 'Mundiya tu bachke rahi' is the DJ's most favourite song at every desi party. A desi , free-style, everyone-is-invited brawl is as much a necessity of every party as the punjabi music :)
20. INDIA: Last but not the least, each desi loves India, his homeland. No matter how much they crib about India, deep down each and every one of them loves it.
Ofcourse, there are many more things which desis like. However, these were the few which came to my mind when I thought of it.
Proud to be a desi :)
When I refer to "desis", I'm referring to Indians who are temporarily/permanently settled in the US. Some entries in the list below come from self experience, some come from observations, while some come from the Internet. Here is the list of some stuff which desis like, not necessarily in the order in which it is listed.
1. Toyota/Honda: This HAS to be the first entry in the list. I have rarely seen a desi driving a car other than Toyota or Honda. Some distinguish themselves from this lot by owning a Nissan. But the reason for it is obvious - high mileage, low cost of maintainance and "Arree, even xyz bought the same car a few months ago, he is having no problems with it so far."
2. Maggi: Lifeline of desi students.
3. Orkut: Tell me a desi who does not check orkut every hour, if not more frequently. Desis also like to change their name on Orkut to something like "Happy Diwali to all" or "India beat Australia,yippee" or "Three days for semester break" or the more concerned "Raj- Im bck,redefyng mah lyfe" . Incase you are searching for a friend and do not find him, chances are he will be one of the people above.
4. Orkut pics: Wherever a desi goes, he should have a pic taken and displayed on Orkut as a display pic, or create a seperate album for it. If a desi goes along with his gang of friends(which is usually the case) to Statue of Liberty for example, each will have 5 types of pics taken- only the monument, desi and monument, desi and best friend and monument, desi and entire gang, desi and entire gang and monument.
5. Russell Peters: RP ROX \m/..Desis relate to him since he is the only desi standup comedian they know, and his jokes are for the desis.He is just awesome. If you do not know who Russell Peters is, then search on youtube. "Somebody is gonna get a hurt real badddd"
6. Successive use of a word: Come,come!!Read this,read this!! Get the drift? Repeating a word or a phrase is the most preferred way of stressing importance , being polite, being assertive, passionately agreeing, requesting a favor or wherever suited. Examples of it include ordering at restaurants ("bring two,two"), welcoming guests ("sit,sit"), appreciating someone or something ("good,good"),or just generally("hmm hmm,yes yes" and "sure,sure").
7. Cricket: Ah, how can I forget cricket. Its a religion, and most desis follow it. Inspite of the time difference, desis regularly follow the Indian team matches. Desis hunt for all possible websites for live streaming ("live-cricket-links.com"). And incase they are unable to watch the live streaming at work/university, then Cricinfo to the rescue. Cricket is religion, Sachin Tendulkar is God.
8. Fellow Desis: Desis love fellow desis. They are comfortable with them, irrespective of the part of India the other person is from. At any given place, desis will be looking around to see if there are any other desis. Even in case of chicks, a desi will look at a desi chick for a second longer than any other blonde/redhead/black(?) chick. And it is not too difficult to strike up a conversation with a fellow desi. Common questions include "Where in India are you from?"," How long have you been here?","So, doing your masters?ohk,what is your major?ohk CS,so are you into databases/distributed networks/security?"
9. Staring: Lets face it. Desis stare, with or without realizing they are doing so. And it is not just the female gender we stare at (we ogle at them,hehe), we stare at one and all. We stare at fellow desis to see if we know them or which part of India he/she is from. We stare at firangs and then wonder why they go around saying hellos and his to you. What else do you expect them to do if they are stared at??They are not desis, they are not used to it. Desis probably do not stare at our Afro-American big brothas, since they will stare back at you. This leads to uncomfortable sitations for the desi, since he has been told to stay away from these supposedly nasty people(no offence).
10. Desi restaurants: Desis love desi restaurants. But obvious. They love it even if the food is bad, ambience is pathetic and its far away from where you stay.
11. Saunf: For the uninitiated , saunf or fennel seeds are the thin little ridged green grain-like thing that desis love to chew on after hearty meals (often times in alarmingly large quantities, almost constituting a large after-meal) . While desis swear by its “mouth freshening” qualities (altoids, be gone!), it also gives them an opportunity to weild their toothpicks to achieve instant dental pleasure (otherwise achieved by the “hygiene no bar - whatever it takes” rule. hint: it grows on your fingers :P). 4 desis going to a restaurant means the small(in desi terms) cup of saunf kept near the exit is empty when they leave.
12. Copying: Desis love copying, and it is a well known fact even across the universities in the US. I doubt if there will be a single university in the US which has not had a case of a desi involved in plagirism. If not his friends, desi will look for answers on Google. And copying is not just restricted to academics. Some part of what you have been reading has also been copied from the Internet. We are well aware of the desi films copying storylines, music and what not from foreign films.
13. Torrentz/Limewire: Desis love these things for free downloads. With the high speed internet which they did not get back in India, desis love these for downloading anything and everything possible. The free downloads include music albums, just released films, porn(ofcourse, did you think you were the only one?) and much more. As RP would put it "You fucking filthy downloaders!!"
14. Google: Desis love Google. To know the reasons a desi uses Google for, please Google it out.
15. White friends: All desis like to be friends with white people. More than being friends with them, they like to show off and talk about them. How many times have you heard a desi rant "You know last weekend when I had gone out WITH MY FRIENDS ADAM, MATT AND HIS GIRLFRIEND RACHEL.......". Some desis would call you near them and show their facebook profile saying "Hey, look at this chick. She is a friend from university". 85% of these white chicks wouldn't even have said anything excpet the courteous hi's and hellos. But our desi friend thinks that she has the hots for him.
16. McDonald's: Desis love McDonald's for 3 main reasons: Dollar menu, dollar menu and dollar menu. Typical order from a desi at MacD "I will have 1 burger, 1 fries and 1 coke. Chicken burger haa. And coke refill is free na?"
17. Swearing: Desis love to swear. Infact, all Indians are genetically potent swearers. Desis add a special twist to the usual swearing - "Fuck you biatch,bhaindchod". And they say this to even the firangs. As if that poor guy is gonna understand the last word of the sentence.(Although firangs in Gracies' cafeteria at my university would reply back "Gaand mara chodu"...hehe).
18. Sharing: Desis love to share - be it pirated softwares, books, clothes or cars. If a desi finds something interesting on the net, he will share it with other desis - "hey..look at this new mms clip. mast maal hai" or "hey,look at this website, it contains the code for our assignment;but make sure you change it a bit". Not only is the virtue of sharing used to save money but it is also used to save space. Desis achieve this by making sure that there is at least one more person than the legal number of people allowed to stay in the apartment.
19. Desi parties: Desi parties can be held in various locations ranging from offcampus apartments to downtown night clubs, with many reasons or no reasons whatsoever. The party is hyped weeks in advance, mainly through word of mouth publicity. Gals with skimpy costumes and dudes with jackets and gelled hair are present everywhere. 'Mundiya tu bachke rahi' is the DJ's most favourite song at every desi party. A desi , free-style, everyone-is-invited brawl is as much a necessity of every party as the punjabi music :)
20. INDIA: Last but not the least, each desi loves India, his homeland. No matter how much they crib about India, deep down each and every one of them loves it.
Ofcourse, there are many more things which desis like. However, these were the few which came to my mind when I thought of it.
Proud to be a desi :)
Monday, October 27, 2008
Oh Gilly!!
"Gilchrist accuses Tendulkar of lying and raises questions over his sportsmanship". At first glance, this could have easily be taken as a headline of 1st April newspaper. Thats because Gilchrist & accusation,accusation & Sachin,Sachin & cheating-none of these go together. But he said it.Gilchrist-one of the few Aussie players whom I repsected(not any longer, though)- accused Sachin. This is nothing but blasphemy to millions of worshippers like me of GOD Sachin. How can someone accuse him of lying and showing no sportsmanship?? The man in question is the highest run getter in ODIs and Tests, so that makes him the greatest player in cricket,statistically speaking. More than that, over the period of 18 years and more in which he has been playing, he has not been invloved in any controversy whatsoever. OK,one if you take the Mike Denness incident in South Africa, where Sachin was ACCUSED, and I repeat, ACCUSED of ball tampering. When the truth was that he was just cleaning the grass in the seam with his nails. This is not me saying, but the pictures on TV, where you can clearly see it. Someone should have told poor old Mike Denness that you tamper a ball by picking across its seam, not running your fingers through the gap between the stitching. Or better, he could have consulted the Paki fast bowlers for knowing how its done ;)
Coming back to Gilchrist, they say any publicity is good publicity. What better publicity for his autobiography than the one you get by questioning the sportsman spirit of the person whom most people consider to be an ambassador for the game. Having said what he did, I feel he has dug his own grave. Remember, he will be coming to India for IPL later this year, where he will be leading the Deccan Chargers side. People in India might have a short memory about most things, but certainly not when it comes to anything said about and to Sachin. And just to make things interesting, he has a player in his team who resembles a tailed simian primate, but hates it when he is called anything similar to it, even more than motherly abuses( teri maa ki....). For those who might be suffering from bouts of amnesia, Symonds too plays for Chargers. And just if matters were not spicy enough, add Harbhajan Singh who plays for Mumbai Indians team. So, we have the 4 people for the Sydney saga crossing swords-Sachin and Bhajji vs Gilchrist and Symonds.
How I wish I was in Mumbai for the upcoming IPL so that I could shout out what I felt about Gilchrist. But I am very sure that fellow Mumbaikars will not spare Gilli and Monkey from the famous North Stand doses of verbal assault. Oh wait, Aussies like to call it 'mental disintegration', ain't it mate? Mumbai Indians vs Deccan Chargers in Mumbai will be something the two Aussies will remember as long as they rest in their grave.
I am no William Shakespeare, but I have come up with this poem (if you can call it that), which I am more proud of than Shakespeare would have been of any of his writings.Enjoy!!
Gilly,whatever you said against Sachin was really bad,
By the way,does ur kid know yet who is his real dad?
You do not say a word against our GOD on any day,
North Stand at Wankhede will teach you this the hard way.
Face the fury of the North Stand in the IPL when you come to play,
Gilly and Monkey with your Team Hyderabad so gay.
Going by the judge's review,we all know what happened down south,
How you will wish you had never opened your big fat mouth.
When Mumbai Indians defeat you and you get fucked by the North Stand masses,
You will have a feeling as if a horse gave you one up your asses.
When you go away,mouth shut and slipping through the back lane,
There will be one man who will still be saying "aaila, plane" :)
CRICKET IS MY RELIGION, AND SACHIN IS MY GOD
Coming back to Gilchrist, they say any publicity is good publicity. What better publicity for his autobiography than the one you get by questioning the sportsman spirit of the person whom most people consider to be an ambassador for the game. Having said what he did, I feel he has dug his own grave. Remember, he will be coming to India for IPL later this year, where he will be leading the Deccan Chargers side. People in India might have a short memory about most things, but certainly not when it comes to anything said about and to Sachin. And just to make things interesting, he has a player in his team who resembles a tailed simian primate, but hates it when he is called anything similar to it, even more than motherly abuses( teri maa ki....). For those who might be suffering from bouts of amnesia, Symonds too plays for Chargers. And just if matters were not spicy enough, add Harbhajan Singh who plays for Mumbai Indians team. So, we have the 4 people for the Sydney saga crossing swords-Sachin and Bhajji vs Gilchrist and Symonds.
How I wish I was in Mumbai for the upcoming IPL so that I could shout out what I felt about Gilchrist. But I am very sure that fellow Mumbaikars will not spare Gilli and Monkey from the famous North Stand doses of verbal assault. Oh wait, Aussies like to call it 'mental disintegration', ain't it mate? Mumbai Indians vs Deccan Chargers in Mumbai will be something the two Aussies will remember as long as they rest in their grave.
I am no William Shakespeare, but I have come up with this poem (if you can call it that), which I am more proud of than Shakespeare would have been of any of his writings.Enjoy!!
Gilly,whatever you said against Sachin was really bad,
By the way,does ur kid know yet who is his real dad?
You do not say a word against our GOD on any day,
North Stand at Wankhede will teach you this the hard way.
Face the fury of the North Stand in the IPL when you come to play,
Gilly and Monkey with your Team Hyderabad so gay.
Going by the judge's review,we all know what happened down south,
How you will wish you had never opened your big fat mouth.
When Mumbai Indians defeat you and you get fucked by the North Stand masses,
You will have a feeling as if a horse gave you one up your asses.
When you go away,mouth shut and slipping through the back lane,
There will be one man who will still be saying "aaila, plane" :)
CRICKET IS MY RELIGION, AND SACHIN IS MY GOD
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Tribute to an Unsung Hero
My blog would be incomplete without having a post about cricket.In fact,I have been myself surprised on how I could resist myself on writing about cricket for so long.My favourite cricketers are Sachin 'THE GOD' Tendulkar(but obvious),Rahul 'THE WALL' Dravid,Shane 'THE WIZARD' Warne and VVS Laxman.
To write about the God himself would be blasphemous.I would pay a tribute to the most unsung Indian cricketer-VVS Laxman.I consider myself lucky to have seen the Fab 4 bat for India.Of course,Sachin is Sachin.People talk about Dravid being the Wall of the Indian team-calm,resolute in defence,always at the front.People talk about Ganguly the leader,the one who taught Indians to take on the world,to battle hard and match eyeball for eyeball and sledge for sledge.But behind all of this was one man who was there when it mattered.The unsung hero,one of the most under-rated cricketers,someone who has not been given the respect and support he has deserved.He might also be remembered as the perennial underachiever of Indian cricket who never did justice to his immense potential.
The first time I remember seeing VVS bat as against Pakistan way back in 1998 I think.All I remember of him back then was a wristy flick for 4,and being castled by Wasim Akram the very next ball.I started liking VVS from the innings he played at Sydney against Australia in 2000 when he scored a memorable century with India following on.The result of the match was a foregone conclusion,but the way he batted was a treat to the eyes.Among my heroes,I think my batting resembles Laxman's the most(or so I think).
And then one hot afternoon at Eden Gardens in Kolkata in March 2001,things looked all too familiar for the Indian team-being thumped by the Aussies once more.Not even the most optimistic Indian fan would have thought that Australia would lose.But,VVS in company of Dravid went on to prove them wrong.India had been on the brink of an innings defeat but went on to win the Test and the series, denying Steve Waugh conquest of the "final frontier". It has become one of the most celebrated tales of Indian cricket, and the innings is ranked the sixth best Test innings ever by Wisden Cricketers' Almanack.VVS did not only score 281 runs in that innings,he hurt the Aussie pride and arrogance and in doing so walked to greatness.
At his sublime best, VVS Laxman is a sight for the gods. Wristy, willowy and sinuous like his statemate Azharuddin, he can match - sometimes even better - Tendulkar for strokeplay.A ball 13 cm outside the off stump can be dismissed through the covers to the boundary,and the same ball can be flicked through midwicket.Shane Warne bowling round the wicket was flicked against the turn for 4,and driven inside out through the covers too.This is VVS at his best.He might score only 20 runs in an innings,but those 20 runs are worth watching.I would pay money to see him bat for those 30 minutes than watch someone else toil around for a century.
The best tribute to Laxman can be that the Australians respect him very much. He reserved his best against the best.This is one man feared by the entire champion Australian team.He defied them not just once or twice,but virtually every time he went out to bat against them.'Very Very Special' is what they named him.The sight of McGrath mouthing off at Laxman was not a mean fast bowler's idea of intimidation; it was an agitated soul sledging a statue.
In a team full of forceful personalities with no shortage of alpha males, the Hyderabadi is an ephemeral presence. His No. 6 spot in the batting line-up is often mulled over and there are grumblings from the youth-first brigade about his knees, his fielding and his running between wickets. But to his team, this old-fashioned, unprepossessing, deeply devout man is what they want.Laxman's walk to the crease is calm,but all purposeful. Once there, he combines a stillness of demeanour with a bustle of run-seeking.He can stabilize an innings,which he does most of the times in company of the tail.No one,I repeat,no one can fight with the tail without losing hope in the most hopeless situations.In times of dire need,there is a sense of relief when he comes in to bat;a feeling that the damage will stop,even if it is to delay the eventual.And on some lucky days when the top order fires,he can add salt into the injuries already inflicted on the bowling side.However,he does that like a silent,expert surgeon and not like a brutal murderer.He stands at second slip, virtually invisible, except when a catch goes his way which is pouched on most occasions.
Over all these years he has played,VVS has never been involved in any controversy.He has been the saint of Indian cricket-humble,learned,respected,committed,saviour and performer of miracles.All hail St.Laxman!
To write about the God himself would be blasphemous.I would pay a tribute to the most unsung Indian cricketer-VVS Laxman.I consider myself lucky to have seen the Fab 4 bat for India.Of course,Sachin is Sachin.People talk about Dravid being the Wall of the Indian team-calm,resolute in defence,always at the front.People talk about Ganguly the leader,the one who taught Indians to take on the world,to battle hard and match eyeball for eyeball and sledge for sledge.But behind all of this was one man who was there when it mattered.The unsung hero,one of the most under-rated cricketers,someone who has not been given the respect and support he has deserved.He might also be remembered as the perennial underachiever of Indian cricket who never did justice to his immense potential.
The first time I remember seeing VVS bat as against Pakistan way back in 1998 I think.All I remember of him back then was a wristy flick for 4,and being castled by Wasim Akram the very next ball.I started liking VVS from the innings he played at Sydney against Australia in 2000 when he scored a memorable century with India following on.The result of the match was a foregone conclusion,but the way he batted was a treat to the eyes.Among my heroes,I think my batting resembles Laxman's the most(or so I think).
And then one hot afternoon at Eden Gardens in Kolkata in March 2001,things looked all too familiar for the Indian team-being thumped by the Aussies once more.Not even the most optimistic Indian fan would have thought that Australia would lose.But,VVS in company of Dravid went on to prove them wrong.India had been on the brink of an innings defeat but went on to win the Test and the series, denying Steve Waugh conquest of the "final frontier". It has become one of the most celebrated tales of Indian cricket, and the innings is ranked the sixth best Test innings ever by Wisden Cricketers' Almanack.VVS did not only score 281 runs in that innings,he hurt the Aussie pride and arrogance and in doing so walked to greatness.
At his sublime best, VVS Laxman is a sight for the gods. Wristy, willowy and sinuous like his statemate Azharuddin, he can match - sometimes even better - Tendulkar for strokeplay.A ball 13 cm outside the off stump can be dismissed through the covers to the boundary,and the same ball can be flicked through midwicket.Shane Warne bowling round the wicket was flicked against the turn for 4,and driven inside out through the covers too.This is VVS at his best.He might score only 20 runs in an innings,but those 20 runs are worth watching.I would pay money to see him bat for those 30 minutes than watch someone else toil around for a century.
The best tribute to Laxman can be that the Australians respect him very much. He reserved his best against the best.This is one man feared by the entire champion Australian team.He defied them not just once or twice,but virtually every time he went out to bat against them.'Very Very Special' is what they named him.The sight of McGrath mouthing off at Laxman was not a mean fast bowler's idea of intimidation; it was an agitated soul sledging a statue.
In a team full of forceful personalities with no shortage of alpha males, the Hyderabadi is an ephemeral presence. His No. 6 spot in the batting line-up is often mulled over and there are grumblings from the youth-first brigade about his knees, his fielding and his running between wickets. But to his team, this old-fashioned, unprepossessing, deeply devout man is what they want.Laxman's walk to the crease is calm,but all purposeful. Once there, he combines a stillness of demeanour with a bustle of run-seeking.He can stabilize an innings,which he does most of the times in company of the tail.No one,I repeat,no one can fight with the tail without losing hope in the most hopeless situations.In times of dire need,there is a sense of relief when he comes in to bat;a feeling that the damage will stop,even if it is to delay the eventual.And on some lucky days when the top order fires,he can add salt into the injuries already inflicted on the bowling side.However,he does that like a silent,expert surgeon and not like a brutal murderer.He stands at second slip, virtually invisible, except when a catch goes his way which is pouched on most occasions.
Over all these years he has played,VVS has never been involved in any controversy.He has been the saint of Indian cricket-humble,learned,respected,committed,saviour and performer of miracles.All hail St.Laxman!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Things I miss about Mumbai
It has been nearly one year since I came to the USofA.Life has changed drastically during this period, on a personal fold and in general too.More than any time since coming here,I am missing home the most right now. The thought of going to India in November/December, no pressure of assignments,quizzes,exams or submissions and the fact that there is lots of free time........ Initially, there was excitement of coming to US, then the rigorous schedule at RIT, but now nothing of that.I am longing to go back home, with family and friends.To Mumbai, where my heart is, where I belong.
Mumbai is known as the economical capital of India, known for Bollywood, underworld, its hectic pace,cosmopolitan city etc etc. It is the city of opportunities, the city that never sleeps and so on. But there are small things which make Mumbai what it is, and those are the very things I miss. Yes, there is family and friends. People will say you miss them the most. Of course yes!! I do. But, home is not JUST about them. Its about the things that make you stay there, make you think you belong there, make you happy.
I miss the food I used to get back home. Everyone believes that his/her mom is the best cook in the world. Its not just about the taste, its about the sense of passionate affection and personal attachment that comes with it. Nowhere else will you get that. Even simple dal and rice cooked by her will taste better than made by someone else. Apart from the home cooked food, I miss the Mumbaiyya food.Vada pav (any day better than Mac). Chaat which tasted awesome in spite of that bhaiyya making it with the very hands he scratches his head (and don't know what not). Sandwiches(not the ones you get here, they are tasteless). Nothing like veg. cheese toast sandwich made by Viju (the sandwich guy near my house), and ofcourse with a little slice of batata after it. Idlis,dosas (Mani's with unlimited sambar), pani puri(Elco),dabeli.....the list goes on and on. I bet even the misal pav we used to get in our college canteen, which was more of farsan masala pani pav, would taste awesome when I get to eat it. I have eaten in all kinds of places,some which even made me question myself "What the heck, did I just eat in there????" From eating Seekh Kababs and naanchaaps in shadiest of places outside Bandra station and Mohd. Ali road, to Bade Miya, Delhi Darbar and Cafe Noorani, to Olive Garden,Rajdhani and Moti Mahal, I have been there. Wow...I am feelng hungry just at the thought of all this. And of course not to forget Mulla for burji paav at 3 o'clock at night and then coffee or a cutting at Anna. Miss all of them.And also how can I forget Venky, the waiter at Upkar, where we had many a,lets say, 'social evenings', with friends. The poor guy always used to be running away from us since he knew people will pick on him once they are high.
Miss those times and those people. I have found more great friends here. But, spending every Sunday on the ground for cricket tournaments, hanging around outside Pinto Panbeedi shop(uska 38 rs. udhari baaki hai,Pinto I promise I will pay you whenever I come back to India), going on mindless long drives with nearly empty fuel tanks, boozing in Aarey colony jungle with music blaring out of the car with them, that was something different. And then driving back home, not oblivious of the consequences if anyone was still up at home, is a feeling that I cannot duplicate here. There were the customary abuses hurled at rickshawala bhaiyyas, but that of irrespective of the time of the day or the condition I was in. I firmly believe rickshawalas, and bhaiyyas in general, are in Mumbai to be abused. I miss those bhiayyas as well, although I found one here to abuse :). It won't be long that we will have hordes of them coming here too. Bhaiyya(a.k.a. Saurabh,it took me a while to remember his name), if you read this, please don't mind. But those bhaiyyas added a different flavor to Mumbai(chameli ki tel ka flavor?)
Among the other things I miss are the local trains. Going by the same train and same compartment and same darwaja every single day for most part of 4 years surely makes you miss it. 08:20 am Goregaon local to Churchgate(semi-fast). Borrowing sports page of newspaper from the neighboring uncle, the fights, the abuses, 4th seat(although I rarely went in to sit), smell of fresh sweat, smell of fresh,errmmm,human excreta in between Mahim and Matunga(not that I really miss it,but just mentioned it), the bhajans(or rather the prasad after that for which I used to wait for),'chala chala pudhe chala','bhaisahab goregaon utroge?','maar dhakka','madar**** pair hata bh*******','dadar kaunse side ayega?'............miss all of that :) One can easily strike a conversation with anyone in a train on any topic. That is what I miss the most. That is real Mumbai. Yes, the people here in US are friendly and always eager to have a chat, but back home, one gets a feeling of apnapan(didn't get the English word for that,par shabdon me kya hai...bhavnaaon ko samjho :D).I miss Wankhede stadium(North stand),miss cheering for the Indian team and 'Sachinnnnnnnnnnn Sachinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'(GOD) or 'ganapati bappa morya',miss singing the North Stand anthem 'sutta' and hurling abuses at opposition players(or even our own for that matter),miss shouting 'neem ka patta kadva hai,xxx bha*** hai' and abusing pakistan no matter which team is playing,lol. I remember abusing Pakistan in Wankhede in a Ranji trophy game Mumbai vs. Banglore I think, and even the players were laughing. I really wish that Sachin plays his last match at Wankhede. I will come down to watch the match no matter wherever in the world I am, or no matter how much money it costs. Thats a dream. As of now, I hope Sachin keeps playing for as long as possible.
There are loads of such things and I can keep rambling about them for long. But the most important thing I miss about Mumbai is the spirit of Mumbai. The famed spirit of Mumbai. Its the place where strangers will help you in troubled times be it the bomb blasts, the 26/7 floods or anything else. Its only Mumbaikars which can stand up to everything thrown at them. Bomb us however times you want or let mother nature be at her ferocious worst, we will not lie down.People will be leaving their homes for work the very next morning. You can call it their helplessness or whatever you want, but show me one city like Mumbai. You cannot, because there is simply none. I am proud to be a Mumbaikar. Thats the place I want to be. It will be atleast 6 months till I come back for a few days. Have to keep missing till then.....
Mumbai is known as the economical capital of India, known for Bollywood, underworld, its hectic pace,cosmopolitan city etc etc. It is the city of opportunities, the city that never sleeps and so on. But there are small things which make Mumbai what it is, and those are the very things I miss. Yes, there is family and friends. People will say you miss them the most. Of course yes!! I do. But, home is not JUST about them. Its about the things that make you stay there, make you think you belong there, make you happy.
I miss the food I used to get back home. Everyone believes that his/her mom is the best cook in the world. Its not just about the taste, its about the sense of passionate affection and personal attachment that comes with it. Nowhere else will you get that. Even simple dal and rice cooked by her will taste better than made by someone else. Apart from the home cooked food, I miss the Mumbaiyya food.Vada pav (any day better than Mac). Chaat which tasted awesome in spite of that bhaiyya making it with the very hands he scratches his head (and don't know what not). Sandwiches(not the ones you get here, they are tasteless). Nothing like veg. cheese toast sandwich made by Viju (the sandwich guy near my house), and ofcourse with a little slice of batata after it. Idlis,dosas (Mani's with unlimited sambar), pani puri(Elco),dabeli.....the list goes on and on. I bet even the misal pav we used to get in our college canteen, which was more of farsan masala pani pav, would taste awesome when I get to eat it. I have eaten in all kinds of places,some which even made me question myself "What the heck, did I just eat in there????" From eating Seekh Kababs and naanchaaps in shadiest of places outside Bandra station and Mohd. Ali road, to Bade Miya, Delhi Darbar and Cafe Noorani, to Olive Garden,Rajdhani and Moti Mahal, I have been there. Wow...I am feelng hungry just at the thought of all this. And of course not to forget Mulla for burji paav at 3 o'clock at night and then coffee or a cutting at Anna. Miss all of them.And also how can I forget Venky, the waiter at Upkar, where we had many a,lets say, 'social evenings', with friends. The poor guy always used to be running away from us since he knew people will pick on him once they are high.
Miss those times and those people. I have found more great friends here. But, spending every Sunday on the ground for cricket tournaments, hanging around outside Pinto Panbeedi shop(uska 38 rs. udhari baaki hai,Pinto I promise I will pay you whenever I come back to India), going on mindless long drives with nearly empty fuel tanks, boozing in Aarey colony jungle with music blaring out of the car with them, that was something different. And then driving back home, not oblivious of the consequences if anyone was still up at home, is a feeling that I cannot duplicate here. There were the customary abuses hurled at rickshawala bhaiyyas, but that of irrespective of the time of the day or the condition I was in. I firmly believe rickshawalas, and bhaiyyas in general, are in Mumbai to be abused. I miss those bhiayyas as well, although I found one here to abuse :). It won't be long that we will have hordes of them coming here too. Bhaiyya(a.k.a. Saurabh,it took me a while to remember his name), if you read this, please don't mind. But those bhaiyyas added a different flavor to Mumbai(chameli ki tel ka flavor?)
Among the other things I miss are the local trains. Going by the same train and same compartment and same darwaja every single day for most part of 4 years surely makes you miss it. 08:20 am Goregaon local to Churchgate(semi-fast). Borrowing sports page of newspaper from the neighboring uncle, the fights, the abuses, 4th seat(although I rarely went in to sit), smell of fresh sweat, smell of fresh,errmmm,human excreta in between Mahim and Matunga(not that I really miss it,but just mentioned it), the bhajans(or rather the prasad after that for which I used to wait for),'chala chala pudhe chala','bhaisahab goregaon utroge?','maar dhakka','madar**** pair hata bh*******','dadar kaunse side ayega?'............miss all of that :) One can easily strike a conversation with anyone in a train on any topic. That is what I miss the most. That is real Mumbai. Yes, the people here in US are friendly and always eager to have a chat, but back home, one gets a feeling of apnapan(didn't get the English word for that,par shabdon me kya hai...bhavnaaon ko samjho :D).I miss Wankhede stadium(North stand),miss cheering for the Indian team and 'Sachinnnnnnnnnnn Sachinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'(GOD) or 'ganapati bappa morya',miss singing the North Stand anthem 'sutta' and hurling abuses at opposition players(or even our own for that matter),miss shouting 'neem ka patta kadva hai,xxx bha*** hai' and abusing pakistan no matter which team is playing,lol. I remember abusing Pakistan in Wankhede in a Ranji trophy game Mumbai vs. Banglore I think, and even the players were laughing. I really wish that Sachin plays his last match at Wankhede. I will come down to watch the match no matter wherever in the world I am, or no matter how much money it costs. Thats a dream. As of now, I hope Sachin keeps playing for as long as possible.
There are loads of such things and I can keep rambling about them for long. But the most important thing I miss about Mumbai is the spirit of Mumbai. The famed spirit of Mumbai. Its the place where strangers will help you in troubled times be it the bomb blasts, the 26/7 floods or anything else. Its only Mumbaikars which can stand up to everything thrown at them. Bomb us however times you want or let mother nature be at her ferocious worst, we will not lie down.People will be leaving their homes for work the very next morning. You can call it their helplessness or whatever you want, but show me one city like Mumbai. You cannot, because there is simply none. I am proud to be a Mumbaikar. Thats the place I want to be. It will be atleast 6 months till I come back for a few days. Have to keep missing till then.....
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Gooner till death
To be a Gooner!!
Over these 3 years without any trophy,I have realised that you need to be special to be called a 'Gooner'.You need a strong heart and courage to come over these 3 years where everyone gets over your head where you feel like being killed mentally.Times like these for a club identifies how strong the club itself is and how faithful their supporters are.How many times do you see in club football that a kid,Gooner,died of a heart attack simply because the ball struck the bar at WHL against Spurs & being a Gooner it's tough to survive the scares of a defeat when you're 1-0 down against your arch rivals.That's the emotion you have and sometimes they over flow.
You need to be special to face the taunts of the supporters of Man Utd,Liverpool and Chelsea.They run at you and slaughter you emotionally for a moment.They insult your identity of being a 'Gooner'.They batter you in numbers for our team's failure over these 3 years.You flee away after going through that but it is the love,the passion,the emotions and the attachment that never lets you lose the faith and believe in your love for Arsenal.I know how it feels being a roommate of 3 diehard Man Utd fans.
It's only the fan that knows how much it takes & how many sacrifices you make to support the club.I see a 15 year old kid sitting in front of TV at 3:00am watching his love play against AC Milan.He forgets he has a maths exam the other day.He forgets what the aftermath of his failures would be.All he does is silently jumping all over the lounge,screaming soundlessly with his heart up to the dry throat and biting his nails just to see his passion coming out as ultimate warriors.And yea,at the same time being careful enough not to wake up his mom sleeping in the bedroom.
We see a 75 year old man up at night watching his 65 years of faith playing on the field.He's so indulged that he forgets he has some blood pressure tablets to be taken.All he has on his mind is to see the men in Red and White tirelessly running on the field making you realise that your love will never be disgraced,your love is immortal!!!
You need to be stronger than anyone else to see your team's hard work for 7 months collapsing in 28 days.You need to be more strong to watch the referees denying you at a big stage and awarding the opponents the visa to the semis of Europe.You watch and pay the price for someone else's wrong doing but you never throw away the faith.I am not complaining or cribbing or giving excuses,thats for the Chelshits to do.But you tend to feel the way I am when it happens over and over again.But then such is life.
After being through all the thick and thin,from all ups and downs,after all the crticism from media...after all the ugliest you've experienced,you wake up in the morning with the label of "Gooner" on your head.You don't know any supporters from The Kop,you don't know who Red Devils are and you dont know who are the supporters dancing on the billion bucks of Chelsea.All you realise that you're a true Gooner..the best,the best in the world.
My love for the club can wait even for a century to see the trophies coming into our club's cabinet.I'll wait because I know I will reap the fruit for my faith,passion and patience.We stood by Arsenal during the 'Invincibles' era and we stood by Arsenal when they finished 4th twice on the trot and we still stand by Arsenal even if they are trophyless for the 3rd year. Arsenal FC means much more than trophies,its a way of life.Or rather its my life.
Thank You Arsenal....thank you for everything!! I'll stand by you till the end of time!!!
And did those boots of Arsenal's team
Walk upon Emirates's turf so green?
And did they play with great esteem
The best football we've ever seen?
And with a cannon on our chest
We play with heart, mind, and zest
And we are proud to be Arsenal
In Victory Through Harmony
Over these 3 years without any trophy,I have realised that you need to be special to be called a 'Gooner'.You need a strong heart and courage to come over these 3 years where everyone gets over your head where you feel like being killed mentally.Times like these for a club identifies how strong the club itself is and how faithful their supporters are.How many times do you see in club football that a kid,Gooner,died of a heart attack simply because the ball struck the bar at WHL against Spurs & being a Gooner it's tough to survive the scares of a defeat when you're 1-0 down against your arch rivals.That's the emotion you have and sometimes they over flow.
You need to be special to face the taunts of the supporters of Man Utd,Liverpool and Chelsea.They run at you and slaughter you emotionally for a moment.They insult your identity of being a 'Gooner'.They batter you in numbers for our team's failure over these 3 years.You flee away after going through that but it is the love,the passion,the emotions and the attachment that never lets you lose the faith and believe in your love for Arsenal.I know how it feels being a roommate of 3 diehard Man Utd fans.
It's only the fan that knows how much it takes & how many sacrifices you make to support the club.I see a 15 year old kid sitting in front of TV at 3:00am watching his love play against AC Milan.He forgets he has a maths exam the other day.He forgets what the aftermath of his failures would be.All he does is silently jumping all over the lounge,screaming soundlessly with his heart up to the dry throat and biting his nails just to see his passion coming out as ultimate warriors.And yea,at the same time being careful enough not to wake up his mom sleeping in the bedroom.
We see a 75 year old man up at night watching his 65 years of faith playing on the field.He's so indulged that he forgets he has some blood pressure tablets to be taken.All he has on his mind is to see the men in Red and White tirelessly running on the field making you realise that your love will never be disgraced,your love is immortal!!!
You need to be stronger than anyone else to see your team's hard work for 7 months collapsing in 28 days.You need to be more strong to watch the referees denying you at a big stage and awarding the opponents the visa to the semis of Europe.You watch and pay the price for someone else's wrong doing but you never throw away the faith.I am not complaining or cribbing or giving excuses,thats for the Chelshits to do.But you tend to feel the way I am when it happens over and over again.But then such is life.
After being through all the thick and thin,from all ups and downs,after all the crticism from media...after all the ugliest you've experienced,you wake up in the morning with the label of "Gooner" on your head.You don't know any supporters from The Kop,you don't know who Red Devils are and you dont know who are the supporters dancing on the billion bucks of Chelsea.All you realise that you're a true Gooner..the best,the best in the world.
My love for the club can wait even for a century to see the trophies coming into our club's cabinet.I'll wait because I know I will reap the fruit for my faith,passion and patience.We stood by Arsenal during the 'Invincibles' era and we stood by Arsenal when they finished 4th twice on the trot and we still stand by Arsenal even if they are trophyless for the 3rd year. Arsenal FC means much more than trophies,its a way of life.Or rather its my life.
Thank You Arsenal....thank you for everything!! I'll stand by you till the end of time!!!
And did those boots of Arsenal's team
Walk upon Emirates's turf so green?
And did they play with great esteem
The best football we've ever seen?
And with a cannon on our chest
We play with heart, mind, and zest
And we are proud to be Arsenal
In Victory Through Harmony
-- -- Victoria Concordia Crescit -- --
GOONER TILL DEATH!!
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
heart touching
I was a just-born and she was Twenty-Five,
Though we were we, we were one.
I would cry out in Latin and she would respond in Greek,
I would learn nothing but she never got tired to teach.
I was surrounded by monsters eager to pull my cheek,
but they would vanish the moment I was wet and weep.
She would come running and hold me in her arms,
as if I had won the contest of the charms.
Now I was able to walk and chew,
and hey, I was two.
I and she could now understand each other,
I was her everything and she needed no other.
I would try to walk and fall down,
But knowing she was with me,
the fear of getting hurt was now gone.
We still could not converse that effectively,
But she would understand my needs so easily.
I could now roam about free,
because now I have turned three.
I was ready to join a new world,
my academic life was now gonna mould.
She would dress me as best as a prince,
but when I would come back,
she would need at least an hour to rinse.
I was now able to talk,
I was a ferry and she was my dock.
I still remember the child, whose shirt I had tore,
Hey buddy, I have turned four.
I now came home a little late,
Nevertheless finding her waiting at the gate.
She would hug me and carry me in her arms,
it felt like flying through the farms.
We now did the homework together,
I would spoil the home and she used to work.
Years passed and now I was fifteen,
and with each year I would forget to lean.
I wouldn't care for what she said,
because now I had become mean.
She would ask me to study for a good future,
but I was busy in a different culture.
Now I had many shes in my life,
I dreamed of having one of them as my wife.
I changed a lot which she did not teach,
She would try to hug me but I was out of reach.
She still waited for me at the gate,
but I would look at her with utmost hate.
She would be awake till late in the night,
because I wasn't home, I was in a fight.
She had so much to scold, but she never did say,
hoping to find me better the next day.
Time went on and now I am grown,
lost in the world of my own.
I and she, between us have a river,
I have left her for my career.
When I was young, for me, she sacrificed her ambition,
but I don't care, I now have my own mission.
I am not with her now, I am in a different city,
she is so old now but I don't even pity.
She needs me now but I am nowhere to find,
in the race for appraisal, I have become blind.
In a few years from now, I will be two,
there will be in my life someone new.
Then I'll forget even to bother,
I am her son and she is my Mother.
Though we were we, we were one.
I would cry out in Latin and she would respond in Greek,
I would learn nothing but she never got tired to teach.
I was surrounded by monsters eager to pull my cheek,
but they would vanish the moment I was wet and weep.
She would come running and hold me in her arms,
as if I had won the contest of the charms.
Now I was able to walk and chew,
and hey, I was two.
I and she could now understand each other,
I was her everything and she needed no other.
I would try to walk and fall down,
But knowing she was with me,
the fear of getting hurt was now gone.
We still could not converse that effectively,
But she would understand my needs so easily.
I could now roam about free,
because now I have turned three.
I was ready to join a new world,
my academic life was now gonna mould.
She would dress me as best as a prince,
but when I would come back,
she would need at least an hour to rinse.
I was now able to talk,
I was a ferry and she was my dock.
I still remember the child, whose shirt I had tore,
Hey buddy, I have turned four.
I now came home a little late,
Nevertheless finding her waiting at the gate.
She would hug me and carry me in her arms,
it felt like flying through the farms.
We now did the homework together,
I would spoil the home and she used to work.
Years passed and now I was fifteen,
and with each year I would forget to lean.
I wouldn't care for what she said,
because now I had become mean.
She would ask me to study for a good future,
but I was busy in a different culture.
Now I had many shes in my life,
I dreamed of having one of them as my wife.
I changed a lot which she did not teach,
She would try to hug me but I was out of reach.
She still waited for me at the gate,
but I would look at her with utmost hate.
She would be awake till late in the night,
because I wasn't home, I was in a fight.
She had so much to scold, but she never did say,
hoping to find me better the next day.
Time went on and now I am grown,
lost in the world of my own.
I and she, between us have a river,
I have left her for my career.
When I was young, for me, she sacrificed her ambition,
but I don't care, I now have my own mission.
I am not with her now, I am in a different city,
she is so old now but I don't even pity.
She needs me now but I am nowhere to find,
in the race for appraisal, I have become blind.
In a few years from now, I will be two,
there will be in my life someone new.
Then I'll forget even to bother,
I am her son and she is my Mother.
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