For every step I take towards you,
You take none
And so I take two back.
For every step I take towards you,
I walk further away from you.
I found this article a good read. Its by Shekar Kapur, the reknowned director.
India is blessed with such abundance of talent, but they lack opportunities and support.
Why India Works – written by internationally acclaimed film director Shekhar Kapoor.
A greater ‘hole in the wall’ you cannot imagine. A small fading sign on the top saying “Cellphoon reapars” barely visible through the street vendors crowding the Juhu Market in Mumbai. On my way to buy a new Blackberry, my innate sense of adventure made me stop my car and investigate. A shop not more than 6 feet by 6 feet. Grimy and uncleaned.
‘Can you fix a Blackberry ?”
‘Of course, show me”
“How old are you” ‘Sixteen’ !
Bullshit. He was no more than 10. Not handing my precious blackberry to a 10 year old in unwashed and torn T shirt and pyjamas!
At least if I buy a new one, they would extract the data for me. Something I have been wanting to do for a year now.
‘What’s wrong with it?”
‘Well, the roller track ball does not respond. It’s kind of stuck and I cannot operate it”
He grabs it from my hand and looks at it.
“You should wash your hands. Many customers have same problem. Roller ball get greasy and dirty, then no working’
Look who was telling me to wash my hands. He probably has not bathed for 10 days, I leaned out to snatch my blackberry back.
” You come back in one hour and I fix it’.
I am not leaving all my precious data in this unwashed kid’s hands for an hour. No way.
“Who will fix it?”
‘How big is ‘big brother?’
‘Big .. Umm ..thirty.’
Then suddenly big brother walks in. He is no more than 19.
‘What problem?’ he says grabbing the phone from my greasy hand into his greasier hand. Obviously not trained in etiquette by an upmarket retail store manager.
‘Normal Blackberry problem. I replace with original part now.’
19 year old ‘big brother’ rummages through a dubious drawer full of junk and fishes out a spare roller ball packed in cheap cellophane wrapper. Original part? I doubt it. But by now I am in the lap of the real India and there is no escape as he fishes out a couple of screw-drivers and sets about opening my Blackberry.
“How long will this take?”
This I have to see.
After spending the whole morning trying to find a Blackberry service centre and getting vague answers about sending the phone in for an assessment that might take a week, I settle down next to his grubby cramped work space.
At least I am going to be able to watch all my stored data vanish into virtual space.
People crowd around to see what’s happening. I am not breathing easy anyway.
I tell myself this is an adventure and literally have to stop myself grabbing my precious Blackberry back and making a quick escape.
But in exactly six minutes this kid handed my Blackberry back. He had changed the part and cleaned and serviced the whole phone. Taken it apart, and put it together.
As I turned the phone on there was a horrific 2 minutes where the phone would not come on. I looked at him with such hostility that he stepped back.
‘You have more than thousand phone numbers?”
‘Must back up. I do it for you. Never open phone before backing up.’
‘You tell me that now?’
But then the phone came on and my data was still there! Everyone watching laughed and clapped.
This was becoming a show – a six minute show!
I asked him how much?
’500 rupees.’ He ventured uncertainly. People around watched in glee expecting a negotiation. That’s $10 dollars as against the Rs 30,000=$ 600 I was about to spend on a new Blackberry or a couple of weeks without my phone. I looked suitably shocked at his ‘high price’ but calmly paid him. Much to the disappointment of the expectant crowd.
‘Do you have an I-Phone? Even the new ’4D one?
‘I break the code for you and load any ‘app’ or ‘film’ you want.
I give you 10 films on your memory stick on this one, and change every week for small fee.’
I went home having discovered the true entrepreneurship that lies at what we call the ‘bottom of the pyramid’. Some may call it piracy, which of course it is, but what can you say about two uneducated and untrained brothers aged 10 and 19 that set up a ‘hole in the wall’ shop and can fix any technology that the greatest technologists in the world can throw at them. I smiled at the future of our country.
If only we could learn to harness this potential.
‘Please wash your hands before use’ were his last words to me. Now I am feeling seriously unclean
I had to repost this because I would want to laugh out later and dont want to hunt for it then. Make sure you visit this site, I can assure you, you will ROTFL!!This is from a blog http://localparty.tumblr.com/
MAll you publicly married and secretly register-marriaged people, leave the single guys alone man. Arey one single guy how many people will make fun yaar?
Have you ever been single in your life? Life is hell only. Especially when that single guy is having married friends or friends in relationships, that’s all. His life is finished. The things that person has to go through, oh god! He is single because he wants to enjoy life for a few more days ok? But now only the entire world will take revenge on him. And I am not talking about single people with girl friend or boy friend. (That is another torture story.)
I am talking about normal single people who like to live life with themselves and not with their cell-phones. Occasional flirting is allowed ok? But the torture story is a national conspiracy only.
It all starts with Indian Railways man. None of you guys are allowing that poor single fellow to sleep in the lower berth. Not even one time!
“Excuse me, ladies is there, can you please move to the upper berth? Thank you”, “Excuse me, you are alone? My father is heart patient, can you please sleep in his upper berth?” you are showing all your teeth and asking. And you know what is the best thing? If that fellow says no means, because it is his berth and he has every right to say no, all you other morons are immediately jumping and talking as if one crime has been committed.
Arey! What nonsense man! Bloody railways, in the history of billion train journeys in India, not even one single time you are putting a single guy and a single girl in the same compartment! Never. How much ever you go through that passenger list outside the train, no chance. No way. All above 40 years only. I don’t know how Railways is doing it man. I think there is some special software for that.
People go to movies to watch and enjoy quietly ok? Some single people like it like that. There only you will come with your whole extended family and sit in the same row. And bloody you will keep moving in and out to buy popcorn and puff and don’t let the single person watch in peace. Movie interval means compulsorily you have to eat is it? In between important scene only your wife will sssshhhh your baby. Boss, when you’re coming to movies leave the brat babies at home yaar! See baby only is cute. Baby poop is not cute even to you ok?
Best is what you know? You folks will call your single friends for shopping. Uff, there is nothing like that hell man. You will see one shirt, immediately you will call your spouse (or someone like that) and describe it over phone. And then that person will ask the price. You will tell. Then they will say it is too costly. Then you will start bargaining with them and try to convince them. Boss, then why the hell did you bring the single guy to shopping with you yaar?
Ever tried going to a restaurant alone and eat? That idiot manager will not even care to look at you if you are alone. All the other customers will come like one army and the manager will run behind them only. Table after table will become empty but people who are coming after you will get seats and you will be standing like a waiter.
Even if you go with married friends, the scene they put, oh. They will drink the same tomato soup (one by two), share their dishes, feed each other, drink the same milk-shake. That idiot will also sip your drink and generously offer to his partner “Mmm. It’s nice. Try it.” As if it’s his drink! Boss! That I should give.
In the pubs and bars, I don’t even have to say it. Single? Then you have to pay so much cover charges that everyone in the country can drink for free in your money. Over drinks, single people want to check out other attractive people in the room ok? That time only you will come and discuss problems about your in-laws and all. Why don’t you understand ki nobody, NOBODY wants to hear about your fights with your in-laws yaar? Not while at the bar.
I think you are taking revenge on the single people because they are the only happy people and you are jealous of that. Mentals.
I live in a gated community in the heart of Cochin city. It is a small locality, with just nine houses. Barely a kilometer away from the hustle and bustle of South Railway Station, our enclave is a haven of peace and quiet. Far away from the madding crowd, as it were. The sound and din of the city traffic do not bother us; there is just one high rise apartments nearby, and the closest supermarket is more than a kilometer away. There are a couple of old fashioned provision stores in the vicinity selling milk, bread, eggs and all the usual items one would see in a store in a village.A corporation truck that comes to clear the waste or the bus that wants to save time disrupts the traffic occasionally; otherwise the road is mostly filled with usual cars,bikes and pedestrians engaged in quotidian chores. As I leave my house for work each day, I see almost the same faces – some going to school, others picking up milk and daily provisions at the corner store, few senior citizens diligently taking their morning constitutional, and some regulars returning home after their daily visit to the local temples.
All in all, an oasis of serenity. A sort of bucolic retreat in the middle of a crowded city.
Naturally, the area shouldn’t be green and verdant, but it is thanks to the disputed property that belongs to a neighbor. The area is thick with foliage and trees, and the sights and sounds of a forgotten childhood that assail our senses constantly. Bumblebees and dragonflies fly around impudently during the day, and evenings resonate with the tireless chirping of crickets and the sonorous croak of bull frogs. Early mornings are simply beautiful . There is barely a hint of magenta at first, and then as the sky is suffused by a beautiful pink blush, the day awakens to the refreshing music of the birds. There is a lot of greenery where we live – several coconut palms and temple trees, a couple of majestic raintrees, a konna , a weeping willow, and a number of divi divi trees that provide a canopy of lush green along the driveway; and a profusion of flowering plants and bushes that serve as cover and sustenance to a variety of songbirds. Sparrows, swallows, koels, thrushes, larks , kingfishers - are in abundance, and they all appear simply joyous to be alive!
More than a month ago, I noticed a pair of red whiskered bulbuls busying themselves around a decorative palm near my front porch. Now these birds are easy to identify. They have a distinctive crest, and a fan tail. Their body is generally a dull brown, with a white underbelly, a red face patch and a colorful red vent near the tail. The birds typically feed on fruits and small insects. They are normally not shy of humans, and perch conspicuously on trees and rooftops, sending out a sharp three or four note call. Most mornings, I wake up to the music of their scolding chatter.
I could see that what these two birds were doing was part of their mating ritual. They were getting ready to breed. The pair worked tirelessly, and soon enough, had succeeded in creating a small cup shaped nest with twigs, dried leaves, grass, roots and strips of bark. The overhanging palm fronds ensured that the nest was quietly tucked away from the roving eyes of predators. And within a couple of days, there were two pale mauve, speckled eggs resting inside the nest.
Then followed a period of incubation. One bird would sit on the clutch of eggs, while the other would forage for food, and bring it back to its partner. Everyday, even before I had my morning cup of coffee, I would check on their status. I also became a vicarious parent of sorts, watching and observing my avian friends, waiting in anticipation for the eggs to hatch. After about fortnight of waiting, I found that the alchemy of creation had taken place. Th eggs had hatched, and I could see two tiny naked heads, eyes closed, jostling comfortably in the nest. . Both parents were close by, perched on trees, zealously guarding their off spring against any intruders, the air filled with the sharp notes of their constant warbling. Were they warning me to back off, I wondered. After a few days, I saw that the baby birds had opened their eyes, Of course, they were still helpless and depended on their parents to feed them.
And then, one morning, after about three weeks, I observed that the nest was empty. I realized that my young wards had fledged. They were ready to stretch their wings and soar forth into the world. The cycle of life was complete. The parents had done their job, and it was now time for the young ones to create their own music. I look around, and I can see the proud parents perched impudently on the rooftop opposite my house, making joyous music.
I am reminded of an old Chinese saying : A bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.
>I may not talk to you at first sight
Take not my timidity for arrogance.
I may keep a ‘distance’ between us
Know that I too like my privacy.
I may not speak much
Understand that it’s not my strength.
I might ask you a million questions
Have patience to listen to them,
I may have only you to ask that to.
I may appear too confused and too muddled
Take it as a part of me
I may flare up soon
Know that I cool down faster
I may seem stupid
Know that I still have some brains left in me
I may seem jealous if you keep talking about another girl
Understand that it’s just my possessiveness
My eyes water soon
Please try not to be the cause
I have my mood swings
Know that I like you with me in those times
I may not tell you often how much you mean to me
But know that I still care for you from the depths of my heart
I may not hold hands in public
I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed
I may sing aloud often
Tell me if I am bad…
But I may not stop
I will never judge you whatever come
Try not to judge me too
I might appear lost
Know that I would need you to show me the way
I may not live up to your expectations
Know that I too have my limits
I might end up forgetting how you look
But I’ll never forget how you made me feel
I may be timid
Know that I am not weak
I might try my hand at everything
But I need you to spur me on
Coz you help me be strong
I might ask you again and again
What I mean to you
Know that it’s not my doubt
But my love to hear you tell me what I am to you
That I ask you often
Remember in your honesty my pride.
If you don’t want to see me, please don’t hide
The truth, yet tell it with some art.
>After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul
After a while you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t always mean security.
After a while you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises
After a while you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
After a while you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…