
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
SUNRISE

How gently the pall of darkness
Slowly lifts,
And the cry of the cuckoo
Pierces the silence of the morning.
The green leaves bathe
In the crystal clear dew,
And the trees stand silently
Watching the slowly fading mist.
Slowly the creatures stir-
Calm and well rested,
And venture out of their homes
To welcome the new day.
The lakes reflect the mountains
Shimmering in the first rays of the Sun,
That sweeps across the valleys
And enters the narrowest alleyways.
Soon the milkman begins his day,
The laughter of children fills the air,
And the whole world experiences
The magic of a new morning.
How gently the Creator smiles
At His marvellous creation-
That was once again basking
In the glory of Sunrise.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Three Students and a Cell Phone - A Short Story

That morning, I was running through the College corridors at a breakneck speed, bumping into anyone and everyone because I was late for the class - and added to that, the first hour was allotted to the Mathematics lecturer Mrs. Alzan (whom the students had generously honoured with the nickname 'The Terror')
When I finally reached the classroom door - panting like a dog-tired donkey - all the heads (including that of Mrs. Alzan) turned towards me.
"You are late Mel," Mrs. Alzan's voice rang out loud and clear. "Come inside and don't be late again." I stepped inside, amazed at my luck, (for Mrs. Alzan held the unique reputation for granting her students a free tour to the Principal's office.) I had hardly taken a few steps, basking in my narrow escape, when Shaan began to sing - or rather - my cell phone began to ring. A few days back, I had set the singer Shaan's famous song 'Tanha Dil' as my ring tone and I used to wait for a call to hear the song. And here was Shaan, fulfilling my wish. I turned slowly to brave the expression on my lecturer's face. Her visage was contorted with rage and somehow (even in that situation) she managed to remind me of a hen that was trying extremely hard to lay an egg.
"..Chalna akele hum yahan.." Shaan was bellowing.
My cell phone was confiscated that very day.
Two days later.
Mrs. Alzan was working out many problems on the blackboard so that we saw more of her back than her front. To my left, Nita was messaging on her cell phone and to my right, Ella was viewing the image gallery on her mobile. Both were busy with their cell phones, though they did (occasionally) bestow me with their looks of pity. As for me, I sat between them like a sanyasini who had renounced all her worldly pleasures (in my case - my cell phone.)
Suddenly, Ella's cell phone gave a loud beep. Most of the students heard the beep though Mrs. Alzan (bless her soul!) was much too immersed in her beloved mathematical sums to notice anything. "My message alert tone is not in the silent mode," whispered Ella. "Then switch it off dumbo," snapped Nita. Poor Ella - she was visibly shaking - hoping that she would not receive any message until she had silenced her alert tone.
"I have switched on the keypad tones by mistake!" cried Ella, seconds later.
Just then, Mrs. Alzan turned towards us with the air of an accomplished warrior, since she had successfully solved a particularly difficult problem. Now all that dear Ella could do was to hope that her well-wisher would not pursue his attempt at sending her a message. Sensing her fear, my chivalrous Nita said, "Give me your cell phone; I shall take care of the situation." Ella was more than ready to part with the half-foot long trouble maker.
Nita walked up to Mrs. Alzan with Ella's cell phone hidden in her pocket. "May I use the restroom Ma'am?" she asked with unusual politeness. Mrs. Alzan gave her grand consent and Nita marched out of the classroom.
Her plan suddenly became evident to me. Nita would switch off Ella's cell phone in the restroom. I could not contain my smile and I flashed all my 32 teeth at once in what you might call the 'Million Dollar Grin'. But unfortunately, Mrs. Alzan caught sight of my Million Dollar Grin and the result was that she quietly slipped out of the classroom to follow Nita.
Both, Nita and Ella, had to hand over their cell phones that day.
Five days later.
"Therefore students, cell phones are the main culprits," concluded Mrs. Alzan. "Look at your classmates - Mel, Nita and Ella - I have confiscated their cell phones and now, they pay their sincere attention to my lectures even though they are seated in the last bench of the classroom. "
And sure enough, my two friends and I nodded innocently at whatever she said.
However, what Mrs. Alzan was unaware of, was the fact that our highly benevolent friend - Janet - who was seated right in front of us had switched on her mobile which was now playing a Hindi song from the Film 'Dil Chahta Hai' at a comfortable volume so that only the last two benches could hear it.
And the three of us were gently nodding to the rhythm of the song
'...Hum hain naye andaaz kyun ho purana..!'
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Rahul Gandhi: The Chocolate Boy of Indian Politics

"So..Rahul Gandhi is the prime-ministerial candidate of the Congress Party?" asked Nimisha.
Nimisha is a childhood friend of mine. She had just returned to India after spending 7 years of study in England and I took it upon myself to take her for a stroll along the roads of Bangalore. It was election time and she was apparently enthralled by the huge posters and colourful banners of the various political parties that adorned our streets.
"I suppose Dr. Manmohan Singh is their candidate," I replied.
"But I see more of Rahul's posters on the election pamphlets than Dr. Singh's!" exclaimed Nimisha.
I chose to remain silent.
The elections are finally over and the Congress has returned with a thumping majority. But the 'man of the match' - Rahul Gandhi - has once again retreated into his shell!
In fact, the zeal and enthusiasm that Rahul portrayed while campaigning for the Indian National Congress has motivated even the opposition party (the BJP) to encourage its youth wing - Bharatiya Janata Yuva Morcha.
As for Rahul Gandhi, he remains as humble and simple as ever.
Surprisingly, this 38 year old 'Cambridge educated' MP from Amethi (Uttar Pradesh) has listed 'farming' as his only occupation, thereby identifying himself with the poor farmers who truly constitute the backbone of our nation.
Recently, Sushma Swaraj- a senior BJP leader- has accused the media of succumbing to the "gore chitte, chikne chupde" (fair and chocolate-faced) Congress leaders, especially Rahul Gandhi.
Perhaps they have failed to notice the immense potential behind this 'chocolate face'.
During our landmark elections this year, Rahul travelled across the country to campaign for his party. No Congressman could compete with Rahul's ability to make fiery and candid speeches in a nation that speaks over 60 languages.
The NDA government had earlier come up with slogans like 'India Shining' and 'Hindutva' during their election campaigns. But Rahul has slammed these slogans and upheld his own party's aim to work for the 'Aam Aadmi' (the common man) in his speech at Maharashtra. In his own words: "If you go to a village and ask what 'India Shining' means, the villagers will be unable to understand what it means. This thinking is that of rich people. They fight for privatisation, they fight for the stock market; but do not reach your houses."
He once again portrayed his skill at sending forth strong messages to the opposition party in the simplest words when he said , "They (the BJP leaders) did not go to the houses of the poor, the farmers, the Dalits and other weaker sections of society. They just went to the houses of the rich."
Right from the day Rahul entered politics, he has had to face the strong criticism and the rude remarks made by the opposition party members.
First, they pointed out the fact that his mother was an Italian, thereby making him unworthy to join Indian politics. Later, as his fan-base grew among the Indian Youth, they held his 'chocolate face' responsible. And recently, a BJP political analyst has asserted that Rahul Gandhi is a "proxy PM candidate" who "can say what he wants without being held accountable."
These are a few baseless and frivolous remarks that crumble before Rahul's cool-headed nature.
This young politician has successfully tackled complex issues that only the Ministers of the Cabinet address. From lodging in posh and luxurious hotels to spending nights in farmers' huts - this man has willingly tasted everything. He is one of the very few leaders whose dedication and deeds has enabled him to state with firm conviction : "We functioned as per our promise."
Recently, Nimisha gave me a call after she had returned to London.
"So Rahul Gandhi is not the Prime Minister of India?" was her first question.
"No," I answered.
"I guess he has become a member of the Council of Ministers.." she added hopefully.
"No.." I repeated. "He has turned down the offer."
"Ah!" she exclaimed. "That's bad... I wish I knew the reason why..."
Well, actually Nimisha, we all wish we knew the reason why...!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
FRATERNAL TWINS : Your Bundle(s) of joy

If producing babies is no mean feat, then what about producing them two-at-a-time?
Nowadays, about 1 in every 90 births turn out to be twins and there is almost a 75% chance that the twins would be fraternal sets (or more commonly - non identical twins). Over the past 2 decades, the number of fraternal twins has increased dramatically and after much observation and experimentation, our scientists have outlined the major reasons behind this unexpected rise in number:-
Superfoetation
This is an interesting case where the mother releases an egg and becomes pregnant, but after a few days (sometimes up to 24 days) she would release another egg which would also get fertilized. Obviously, the sperms fertilizing these two eggs are different and can belong to separate men. These fertilized eggs now implant themselves in the uterus of the mother either on opposite sides, or close to each other. If the eggs are too close, then their amniotic membranes (protective membranes around the developing embryo) and their placantae may fuse, thereby fooling the doctors to declare them to be 'identical twins' when they are very much a fraternal set.
Superfoetation can also occur in the case of a woman undergoing Invitro Fertilization (IVF). Here, the egg from the donor is aspirated out of her body, fertilized and then artificially implanted in the uterus of the mother; around the same time, the mother might release another egg (during her regular cycle) which if fertilized by natural means would give rise to fraternal twins.
Though both the twin babies have different dates of conception, they are delivered on the same day. Therefore, one of the twins is actually slightly premature!
Superfecundation
This condition is purely genetic, where a woman releases more than one egg during her regular cycles (superovulation/hyperovulation). Thus, when such a woman becomes pregnant, both her eggs would have been fertilized by different sperms resulting in fraternal twins.
If you have mothered fraternal twin babies, a common question that many people would have asked you is : "Do twins run in your family?" This is because, the case of Superfecundation bears testimony to the popular saying: "Twins are hereditary".
But today, many aspiring mothers turn to fertility drugs which also cause them to superovulate and bear non-identical twins.
Fraternal twins are like normal siblings - neither do they look similar nor do they share the same genes. In fact, they show a 50% variation in their DNA (unlike an identical set). It has been proven that fraternal twins share an intimate relationship and can be closer to each other than identical twins! Perhaps the reason is that the former pair does not have to strive to discover their own identity and uniqueness. Each fraternal twin also has the advantage of having a constant companion of his own age with whom he could share his experiences and discuss his problems.
President Bush's twin girls and (closer home) E.F. Minister Shashi Tharoor's twin sons are perfect examples of fraternal sets.
These twins develop a strong friendship that is often unbreakable and long-lasting.
After all, they began their journey together... didn't they?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Racism and the Echoes of History

I was flipping through the pages of Adolf Hitler's famous book Mein Kampf, when a particular chapter titled "Race and People" took me by interest. As I began to read the chapter, I couldn't help but admire Hitler's knowledge about Evolution as he described the way nature forbids the mating of two individuals from two different species. I was just beginning to wonder if the Dictator had secretly studied Zoology during the years that he had spent in Prison, when another statement of his caught my attention: "If nature does not wish that stronger animals should mate with the weaker, she wishes even less that a superior race should intermingle with an inferior one." It became clear to me in an instant that Hitler was no fan of Charles Darwin, for all human beings, irrespective of their race, belong to the same species and can therefore intermingle and produce fertile offsprings.
He also claims in his book that the 'Aryan' race which has spread over Europe and America is the most superior race and that the culture adopted by the Asians show very little traits of "Asiatic inspiration" since it was borrowed from the Aryans. He goes on to write that our scientific achievements are built on the foundations provided by Europe and America. He praises their "lighter tint of the skin" and asserts that "Every manifestation of human culture...art, science and technical skill...is almost exclusively the product of the Aryan creative power."
Poor Hitler has limited his ignorance not just to Zoology, but to History as well!
When the Harappa and the Mohenjodaro civilizations grew vigorously in India in 2800 B.C. and the Chinese civilization flourished in Central Asia at around the same time, what was Europe? A continent in wilderness. And the inhabitants constituting Hitler's "Superior race" must have been mere food gatherers.
In his enthusiasm to portray the superiority of the Aryans, Hitler forgets to question their origin. For had he done so, he would have have found out that the Aryans hailed from Asia and that "Little Europe sticking on to the Great Asian Continent" (as Jawaharlal Nehru puts it) was civilized by the Aryans, the Arabs and the Mongols from Asia.
Asia has produced great thinkers and philosophers like Jesus Christ, Buddha, Krishna and Mohammed the Prophet. They were the architects of religions that even the Europeans and the Americans follow today.
Though I have already brought to your notice that the Aryans were originally Asians, yet (for the sake of analysis) let us continue to assume that they were a superior race. To study about their confrontations with a 'so-called' inferior race, let us dig into the rich History of our own Motherland.
When the Aryans came to India around 2000 B.C., they were welcomed by a civilized group of people called the Dravidians who occupied South India. They even had their own languages: Telugu, Tamil, Malayalam and Kanarese (modern day Kannada). The Aryans settled down in the Northern part of India and the two settlements existed peacefully.
The political affairs in the Dravidian dominated South India amazed the Greek Historian- Megasthenes. In his own words : "...the popular assemblies of the south restrained the power of the Kings." On the other hand, in Europe, the Royal Class oppressed the peasants by means of cruel taxation.
South India also boasted of its ship-building industries. Giant ships, manned by Dravidians, carried pearls, ivory, gold - and for some strange reason- even monkeys to Greece and Rome. The state of Kerala exported Teak wood from the Malabar Coast. Thus, it was no great surprise to discover Roman coins in South India. But what did surprise many Historians was that South India had established her colonies even in Alexandria! She soon found a sea route to Sri Lanka; and the Kings of the Pallava Dynasty that thrived here colonized islands like Java, Sumatra, Indonesia -and for a short span of time- even the Philippines. The Indian immigrants are said to have exploited the original inhabitants of these islands and ruled over them for many years. Thus, it was apparent that the 'South' overshadowed the 'North' of our country many times in Indian History.
In what way then, was the Dravidian race inferior to Hitler's Aryans? And in what way did Early Europe match the grandeur and majesty of the Indian Kingdoms?
Sadly, even today, Indians -and in general- Asians are believed to constitute an inferior race and they become victims of racial attacks all over the world.
Why should we tolerate these outrageous acts when our ancestors have left behind a rich History that we all need to be proud of?
After all, there was a time when we were lordly too.
And History repeats itself...
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Lotus that never Bloomed

"Have you heard about a relationship that could go terribly wrong?
Have you ever seen a woman who has everything-fame, wealth and beauty- but fails to win her husband's love?
No?
Then you must read my story.
I was born as Kamala Kaul in an orthodox Hindu family. My childhood days were spent at our family mansion in Old Delhi. From a very young age, I was conscious of my beauty. Daddy's friends used to often say that I would bloom into the most beautiful Lotus one day. I basked in the light of all this admiration. After all, Kamala means 'Lotus'.
I had plenty of friends and the best childhood that one could hope for.
But one particular day changed my life forever.
A very famous and highly Westernized Indian man called Motilal Nehru (who was an emerging figure in the Indian National Congress) asked for my hand in marriage to his son- Jawaharlal who was studying in England then. My family gave him their consent immediately.
I was eleven years old then and not many girls are aware of the terms 'matrimony' and 'in-laws' at such a young age. But once I understood their meanings, I found a new reason to live- waiting for my Jawahar...
Almost seven years passed thus.
Finally, in the year 1916, my wedding-day arrived. My long wait was over, for my Jawahar had returned from England. The Nehrus were extremely wealthy and Motilalji adorned me with huge chains of gold. My Jawahar rode to our family mansion on a white horse. He was much more handsome than the Jawahar of my dreams. We exchanged vows just after midnight. My sister-in-law described me as "one of the most beautiful women" she had ever seen. My joy knew no bounds.
But soon, I realized that my Jawahar did not share this happiness of mine. He maintained a gloomy expression all through the marriage proceedings. My first assumption was that he was shy. But later, I was proved wrong. When I heard the raw truth, my heart shattered into a million pieces.
After our marriage, my husband left me under the care of my in-laws and set off on a dangerous expedition to the Zojila Pass where he boasted of a narrow escape from death itself. Later, he plunged into Indian Politics and had absolutely no time for me. He was always cold and distant and seldom spoke to me. I soon learnt (mainly from the maids at the Nehru household) that he had married me against his will, under the compulsion of his father. He had, in fact, told Motilalji that he could never "fall in love with a photograph" and that the entire concept of an arranged marriage was "unromantic". He wanted his wife to be brave, smart and modern like the many English women whom he had met during his stay at England.
From then onwards, I began to have horrible thoughts. Every time I saw him speak to a female colleague, I would wonder 'Whether he loved her more than me' and worse still 'Whether he loved me at all!' The birth of a daughter- Indira Priyadarshini did not change his attitude towards me. I soon began to suffer from terrible headaches and that awful illness called tuberculosis. My condition only changed from bad to worse when my premature baby boy died just two days after his birth. I tried to draw from my husband's family a consolation of some sort (I had long since discarded any attempt to win my husband's love and sympathy) but they looked down upon me as 'ignorance personified' since I was barely educated. It pained me to hear them call Indira 'an ugly child'. And the irony of the situation was that my husband and I were hailed by our fellow-Indians as the 'Adarsha Jodi' - 'Ideal Couple'.
What my husband never understood was that I had modern interests too- I was passionate about women's rights and I urged my Muslim friends to educate the women in their family and to remove the purdah system.
Despite the problems pertaining to my health, I held demonstrations at Allahabad in favour of Emancipation Of Women. I also courted arrest twice and gradually (though my husband never realized it) I transformed into a spirited and politically active woman.
But this new-found solace did not last long. I soon fell ill and Jawahar (who was at that time serving a prison sentence for speaking out against the British regime) was allowed to visit me on one condition: that he should stay away from Indian Politics.
This condition angered me for I did not want to be a hindrance to my husband's freedom struggle. Though I was barely conscious when he arrived, I managed to whisper in his ear, "What is this about you giving an assurance to the Government? Do not give it!"
After this incident, Jawahar would read out to me pieces of his favourite poems and would also try to spend as much time as possible at my bed-side. Whether this sudden change in his behaviour towards me was an act of love or sympathy, I did not know and may never know..."
Soon after this, Kamala's condition became serious and she was taken to a clinic in Germany. Jawaharlal was released from prison on compassionate grounds but soon he had to mourn the death of his wife - Kamala.
Sadly, Kamala never knew that on the day when she had bravely persuaded her husband to pursue his jail sentence, Jawaharlal had realized the fact that his wife was naturally endowed with the qualities that he had tried to find in other women.
But it was too late.
He had lost an opportunity to love and respect his highly gifted wife and finally, the least that he could do was to dedicate his autobiography : "To Kamala, who is no more."
Note to the Reader: I have sketched the life of Kamala Nehru in the form of an autobiography only to make the article an interesting read. As to whether Kamala penned down her thoughts, I have no idea. But all the facts expressed above are accurate and true to the best of my knowledge.
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