Dr. Kalam and HIS India...

Please read this article by giving 10 minutes from your busy life. Really good.... The President of India DR. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam 's Speech in Hyderabad .

Why is the media here so negative?Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths, our achievements? We are such a great nation. We have so many amazing success stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why?

We are the first in milk production.
We are number one in Remote sensing satellites.
We are the second largest producer of wheat.
We are the second largest producer of rice.

Look at Dr. Sudarshan , he has transferred the tribal village into a self-sustaining, self-driving unit. There are millions of such achievements but our media is only obsessed in the bad news and failures and disasters. Iwas in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. TheHamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of aJewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert into an orchid and a granary. It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in thenewspaper, buried among other news.In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we so NEGATIVE?

Another question: Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreignthings? We want foreign T. Vs, we want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology.Why this obsession with everything imported.. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? I was in Hyderabad giving this lecture, when a 14 year old girl asked me for my autograph. I asked her what her goal in life is. She replied: I want to live in a developed India . For her, you and I will have to build this developed India . You must proclaim. Indiais not an under-developed nation; it is a highly developed nation.




Do you have 10 minutes? Allow me to come back with a vengeance. Got 10 minutes for your country? If yes, then read; otherwise, choice isyours.YOU say that our government is inefficient.YOU say that our laws are too old. YOU say that the municipality does not pick up the garbage. YOU say that the phones don't work, the railways are a joke,The airline is the worst in the world, mails never reach their destination.YOU say that our country has been fed to the dogs and is the absolute pits. YOU say, say and say. What do YOU do about it?Take a person on his way to Singapore . Give him a name - YOURS. Give him aface - YOURS. YOU walk out of the airport and you are at your International best. In Singapore you don't throw cigarette butts on the roads or eat in the stores. YOU are as proud of their Underground links as they are. You pay $5 (approx.. Rs. 60) to drive through Orchard Road (equivalent of MahimCauseway or Pedder Road) between 5 PM and 8 PM. YOU come back to the parking lot to punch your parking ticket if you have over stayed in a restaurant or a shopping mall irrespective of your status identity... In Singapore youdon't say anything, DO YOU? YOU wouldn't dare to eat in public during Ramadan, in Dubai . YOU would not dare to go out without your head coveredin Jeddah . YOU would not dare to buy an employee of the telephone exchange in London at 10 pounds ( Rs.650) a month to, 'see to it that my STD and ISD calls are billed to someone else.'YOU would not dare to speed beyond 55 mph (88 km/h) in Washington and then tell the traffic cop,'Jaanta hai main kaun hoon (Do you know who I am?). I am so and so's son. Take your two bucks and get lost...' YOU wouldn't chuck an empty coconut shell anywhere other than the garbage pail on the beaches in Australia and NewZealand .Why don't YOU spit Paan on the streets of Tokyo ? Why don't YOU use examination jockeys or buy fake certificates in Boston ??? We are still talking of the same YOU. YOU who can respect and conform to a foreign system in other countries but cannot in your own. You who will throw papers and cigarettes on the road the moment you touch Indian ground. If you can be an involved and appreciative citizen in an alien country, why cannot you be thesame here in India ?

Once in an interview, the famous Ex-municipal commissioner of Bombay , Mr. Tinaikar , had a point to make. 'Rich people's dogs are walked on the streets to leave their affluent droppings all over the place,' he said. 'And then the same people turn around to criticize and blame the authorities for inefficiency and dirty pavements. What do they expect the officers to do? Go down with a broom every time their dog feels the pressure in his bowels?In America every dog owner has to clean up after his pet has done the job. Same in Japan . Will the Indian citizen do that here?' He's right. We go to the polls to choose a government and after that forfeit all responsibility.We sit back wanting to be pampered and expect the government to do everything for us whilst our contribution is totally negative. We expect the government to clean up but we are not going to stop chucking garbage allover the place nor are we going to stop to pick a up a stray piece of paper and throw it in the bin. We expect the railways to provide clean bathrooms but we are not going to learn the proper use of bathrooms.We want Indian Airlines and Air India to provide the best of food andtoiletries but we are not going to stop pilfering at the least opportunity. This applies even to the staff who is known not to pass on the service to the public.




When it comes to burning social issues like those related towomen, dowry, girl child! and others, we make loud drawing room protestations and continue to do the reverse at home. Our excuse? 'It's the whole system which has to change, how will it matter if I alone forego mysons' rights to a dowry.' So who's going to change the system? What does a system consist of ? Very conveniently for us it consists of our neighbours, other households, other cities, other communities and thegovernment. But definitely not me and YOU. When it comes to us actually making a positive contribution to the system we lock ourselves along with our families into a safe cocoon and look into the distance at countries far away and wait for a Mr.Clean to come along & work miracles for us with a majestic sweep of his hand or we leave the country and run away. Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to England . When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system. Our conscience is mortgaged to money.Dear Indians, The article is highly thought inductive, calls for a greatdeal of introspection and pricks one's conscience too....

I am echoing J. F. Kennedy 's words to his fellow Americans to relate to Indians.......

'ASK WHAT WE CAN DO FOR INDIAAND DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE TO MAKE INDIA WHAT AMERICA AND OTHER WESTERN COUNTRIES ARE TODAY' Lets do what India needs from us.

Forward this mail to each Indian for a change instead of sending Jokes or junk mails.Thank you,Dr. Abdul Kalaam.

I remember those happy times

I remember those happy times,
The days when we were young,
When we were little children,
The days spent in the afternoon sun,
The days we fought,
The days we rolled on the sand,
And the days we threw tantrums.
O, how can I forget those days,
For that was the closest I’d been to you,
Oh, my dear sister.
Over the course of time,
Our roles changed,
We no longer fight,
We no longer roll over together,
O, the sorrow of being an adult!
The roles will keep changing,
Job, money, fame and family,
And then,
We’ll no longer be brothers and sisters,
We’ll be friends,
Maybe make a trip or two together,
But that’s about it.
My dear sister,
I assure you,
Though our footprints may diverge in the sands of time,
We’ll forever remain connected,
Through a common bond,
Our blood and our hearts.

Whirl....

Whirl…
by Shree Vishnu Vardhan


So, finally, my mom’s coming over to visit me. I was so excited. It’s been a long while. But, she hadn’t always been happy with my decision anyway. She used to cry for hours on end just to calm herself down. But, when greener pastures beckon, one must grab the opportunity with both hands. I myself didn’t regret the decision. This place is pure heaven! And the workplace is so serene and tranquil, that I fell in love with it the moment I entered.
“Hi mom… How are you? Long time no see!!”
“You still haven’t changed, have you Mr. Arun?”
“Mom, I’m so happy that you’ve come. You won’t go back, won’t you? I missed you a lot.”
“No dear I won’t be going back. I’ve informed dad. He said that he’ll also be here in a month or two, maybe even less. It all depends.”
“Thank goodness. I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever get to see you again.”
“You’ll forever remain mama’s boy. Oh! When are you going to grow up, mister? I missed you a lot, you know…” mom’s tears spoke.
We embraced. It was a strange feeling. A bit awkward, to be precise.

********

Of course, it was my mom who had started it all. Looking back, I could guess the fight was rather silly but it led to me making the most important decision of my life.
“Mom, this is important for me. I always wanted to go to the U.S. I don’t care for anyone else.”
“Not even your parents?”
Now, this was asking for trouble. Of course, she knew that I loved her. This was emotional blackmail.
“What the hell do you think, huh? Just because you are my parents, it doesn’t mean you can play around with my life. I’ve grown big and I can handle things on my own…”
“Beta, do understand. America is a dirty country, full of vices. I can’t let my only son serve prostitutes.”
“Oh… cut the crap out. I know better. It’s really surprising that you don’t have faith in your only son.”
“That’s the problem. You’re my only son. Had I had two of them, I’d have gladly sent you to the US…”
“Mom, please mom. I promise you, when I come back….”
“….You’ll bring along with you an American girl, huh? I’ve heard enough. No is my answer. That is final.”
“Why on earth should I listen to you? Don’t you dare interfere in my life….”
“ARUN!!!!”
“….I’m not your puppet! Oh please, I don’t give a damn to your thoughts. Go to hell!”
“…ARUN!!!”
“I’m off. I had enough. I’ll just take the passport and go…” I turn to the table.
“Is this what you’re talking about?” questioned dad, menacingly holding up the small-rectangular book in the air.
“Dad, no…please dad…no, please…” I pleaded, guessing what he was up to.
“There it goes…”
I watched in horror as he chucked the book into the toilet and pressed the flush. Even as water flowed out and created a whirlpool with the book as the epicenter, I was sucked into my own whirlpool of emotions and plunged headlong into a deep abyss. Of life itself.

********

Of course, it was my son who had started it all. Looking back, I could guess the fight was rather silly but it led to me making the most important decision of my life.
“Mom, this is important for me. I always wanted to go to the U.S. I don’t care for anyone else.”
Now, this was asking for trouble. Of course, I knew that he loved me. I tried emotional blackmail.
“Not even your parents?”
“What the hell do you think, huh? Just because you are my parents, it doesn’t mean you can play around with my life. I’ve grown big and I can handle things on my own…”
“Beta, you see, I wouldn’t like it if you started to behave as the Americans do. You’re too young. Live in a joint family. Enjoy being with your parents and your friends here. You won’t even have anyone to look after you there.”
“Why on earth should I listen to you? Don’t you dare interfere in my life….”
“ARUN!!!!”
“….I’m not your puppet. Oh please, I don’t give a damn to your thoughts. Go to hell!”
“…ARUN!!!”
“I’m off. I had enough. I’ll just take the passport and go…” he turned to the table.
“Is this what you’re talking about?” questioned my husband, menacingly holding up the small-rectangular book in the air.
“Dad, no…please dad…no, please…” he pleaded, guessing what he was up to.
“There it goes…”
I watched in horror as he chucked the book into the toilet and pressed the flush. Even as water flowed out and created a whirlpool with the book as the epicenter, I was sucked into my own whirlpool of emotions and plunged headlong into a deep abyss. Of life itself.

********

The view from atop the world was quite breathtaking. Even as I looked down, I could see ant-people, roads running for miles, cars and trucks lined up randomly, buildings in all it’s splendor and exorbitant lights illuminating the entire city. I, of course, wouldn’t let up my dream that easily. I was obsessed with success and the US and I was determined to achieve it or die in the process. I was always captivated by the people. By the beggar on the street, the policeman at the corner, the vendor on the road and by life and its beauty. I had started to descent now. Even as the road below drew closer and closer and grew bigger and bigger, I had the sudden urge to go back again, to my mom, but by then it was too late.

********

The divorce case made me drained mentally and emotionally but not financially. Of course, I do love my husband a lot but I couldn’t live with the injustice that he meted out to my son. Our son. We could have solved the issue simply by losing just a few drops of sweat and tears, but to flush the issue out was absolutely unforgivable. That was ugly. Inappropriate. He’s our only son for God’s sake. But, he seemed to have realized his mistake. He was apologetic the last time I visited him. He was ill and hence I had had a doctor to tend to him. I was diagnosed with cancer and given a time limit too but I had lost all interest. I was just going through the motions of living out the rest of my life.

********
So, finally, I was going to visit him. I was so excited. It’s been a long while. But, he hadn’t always been happy with me anyway. He used to brood for hours on end just to calm himself down. But, when greener pastures beckon, one must grab the opportunity with both hands. I myself did respect the decision. This place is pure heaven! And the place is so serene and tranquil, that I fell in love with it the moment I entered.
“Hi mom… How are you? Long time no see!!”
“You still haven’t changed, have you Mr. Arun?”
“Mom, I’m so happy that you’ve come. You won’t go back, won’t you? I missed you a lot.”
“No dear I won’t be going back. I’ve informed dad. He said that he’ll also be here in a month or two, maybe even less. It all depends.”
“Thank goodness. I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever get to see you again.”
“You’ll forever remain mama’s boy. Oh! When are you going to grow up, mister? I missed you a lot, you know…” I said, tears flowing down my transparent cheek. I wiped them with my gaseous hands.
We embraced. It was a strange feeling. A bit awkward, to be precise.

~~~~~~The end~~~~~~~

God is never kind to the hard-workers...

“So again you’re late for work. What bloody excuse will you give today?”
I keep my eyes focused on the floor and replied “ma’am, my son had fever. I needed to take him to a doctor.”


“Bloody hell! Today, it is your son. Tomorrow, it’ll be you. Why don’t you go work in a hospital instead of coming here huh?”


Anger rose within me but I gritted my teeth, urged myself to keep calm, and said “ma’am I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”


“Fish! This is the third time this month. I don’t need you for work from next month. Find another job.”


I silently assess the number of tiles under my feet. These are just empty threats, I say to myself. Finding someone like me is difficult nowadays. I smile.


“What the hell are you standing there for? Go wash the dishes and get Colgate from the stores.”
So that’s it. Just a few minutes of role- call everyday and life gets back to normal. You might have guessed who I am then. I’m Rani, a housemaid.




Things never looked rosy for me right from the day when I dropped out from school to become a housemaid. Life has been one living hell, I thought sadly.


For the next two hours, I dutifully finished all the household chores, all the while witnessing the family whispering complaints and to-hell-with-her comments. The heads of this family treated me with as much kindness as they would reserve for a stray dog. The children, however, treat me better, calling me in respectful tones but even then, they cringe their mouths and twitch their noses.


I have willed myself to get used to people scowling at me wherever I go. At least that way, I get attention, I say to myself. You would almost believe that I have committed a murder just looking at these people’s faces. I still don’t understand why the people treat me this way. I’m not good-looking and maybe, a little shabbily dressed but I certainly deserve better. Well, I cannot dictate what I deserve or don’t, I’m just a small insignificant part of the society.
I had to ask them. I dared not to wait longer. With a bit of luck they might agree. With a bit of luck.


“ma’am, could you spare me Rs. 1000 please? I need to send my children to school. They need to buy books and cloths. Please ma’am…You can deduct it from my next month's pay ma'am... ”


“Don't talk to me like that! How dare you tell me what to do, huh? Why do you send your children to such high-class schools if you can’t afford it?” they ask me.


How can I not? Do not my children deserve better? Would I bear to see them treated the same way as I am? Do not they deserve a better life than mine? Do not their children deserve to grow up to be great film stars, great leaders? I’ve lived this life enough. I fear to let my children feel the pain of this profession.


And I thought of my own husband at home. The poor guy. Every night, he comes home drunk and beats me up. But still, I feel for him. He works so hard in that construction site just to bring back a few pennies, notwithstanding the fact that most of it is used up in getting himself drunk. I myself have a salary of only about Rs. 900 per month. There are no day-offs in this profession.


The tougher and more dangerous the job, the less is the pay, I thought. Look at those construction workers. Look at all those stunt artists. They risk their life so that the hero can smile to the camera. And even when I complete extra work like washing the toilets and cleaning the fans, the family conveniently passes it off as a compensation for all the days I arrived late.


There is only a certain limit of tolerance but for us, suicide is not the option. Every story has a twist but not mine. The only saving grace is when I’m home and tired… I get to lie on my son’s feet and sleep peacefully until the new dawn...

Shah Rukh, Hitler, Lekha and Michael...

Re-post on the occasion of Michael Jackson's birthday

May 30th,2008.

3:30 pm

I was watching T.V. when suddenly Shah Rukh Khan appeared on screen promoting yet another item. Wow, the man is great. I believe everything he touches turns to gold. But sometimes I do think he exerts himself too much and promotes one too many items. So, it was no surprise for me that his panchvi pass failed and his antics with the Kolkata Knight Riders fell flat.





In fact, I was watching IPL the other day and I couldn't help but notice how desperately Lekha Washington wants to be the darling of the press. You see, I might be wrong but I 'think' I can see her yearning for success, sinking to new lows each passing day. Well, I mean, she was excellent when she was the VJ in SS music, I particularly liked her bubbly attitude and a sense of carelessness reminiscent in children. But after she was unceremoniously dropped from Kettavan, I see all of that disappearing. And now, she interviews the "greats of the game" in a sombre and dour mood. There is absolutely no trace of her proactiveness and her keen interest in people. I do feel sorry for her. I'm her great fan you know.All this made me wonder whether it was just fate that these two people turned out the way they were or whether something else that determined their destiny.

I heard from my friend the other day that names really do play an important role in one's success. I was tempted to find out. Luckily, I had a book on star signs by Bejan Daruwalla, so I decided to check it out. It had a section on numerology which really turned me on. So, I decided to check for Shah Rukh Khan first. So here was what I found out.

3+5+1+5+2+6+2+5+2+5+1+5=42. Here was 42's interpretation."Good for the arts. Your opposite number will help you. Signifies gifts and good fortune. You score in relationships. Group activities suit you best. It warns against dangers from falls."Atleast 80% true, right?Ok, so then I decided to check on Lekha Washington. Here was her score.

3+5+2+5+1+6+1+3+5+1+5+3+4+7+5=56. It's interpretation was" Nervous. Fond of luxury, pomp, show. A fine patron of the arts. Not an altogether happy number. Ambition could mock useful toil, and conceit could lead to ruin. "Wow... What do you say to that?So then I got really really interested and decided to check out a few more.


My favourite star, Micheal Jackson (44) for example.Here is his interpretation based of 44." The two fours suggest fatality, dignity and strength. Greed and avarice usually bring the downfall of this number. A strong BUT unhappy name valuation. "How closer to the truth can it get ?

I also found out about Karan Johar (27). " A number of puissance, fame, tremendous creativity. Do not be swayed by outside influence or guidance.Rather, go your own way, rely on your judgement. A high voltage, magnetic number. A name valuation of prosperity. "What more can I say ?There were also terrifying interpretations of Adlof Hitler (End will be sudden...) and of Napolean Bonaparte (Defeat after initial success and glory...). I started to believe in this. But I must also admit some of them were wide off-target.

I'm not here to promote numerology nor do I condemn it. But i do feel for Lekha. The valuation of her first name (16) also isn't that good. In fact, it is worse than her first valuation." A good beginning but a poor end is the significance of this number. It shows a fall from power, grace, office, position. Unexpected shock or catastrophe is associated with this number. "I'm not saying that this will be the end of the world for Lekha. I'm not saying that her career won't flourish or that she'll fall from power or grace. In fact, from what I have known of her from news-reports or from her shows, I know that she is strong-willed and courageous. But, I brought up the topic just because i was afraid that, god forbid, she isn't able to fulfil her potential.Lekha, there is no way you'll read my blog or even know about it but if there is a God out there, maybe he will see to it that somehow you get to see it. I'm a great fan of yours and I don't like you to not enjoy yourself or even smile for the camera with that childish innocence... and beauty. God bless you.