My kind of Indian

"There are many of us, but,among India’s multitudes, we are few. We have grown up in the cities of India, secure in a national identity rather than in a local one, which we express in English better than in any Indian language. We rejoice in the complexity and diversity of our India, of which we feel a conscious part; we have friends of every caste and religious community, and we marry across such sectarian lines. We see the poverty, suffering and conflict in which a majority of our fellow citizens are mired, and we clamor for new solutions to these old problems, solutions we believe can come from the skills and efficiency of the modern world. We are secular, not in the sense that we are irreligious or unaware of the forces of religion, but in that we believe that religion should not determine public policy or individual opportunity.And, in Indian politics, we are pretty much irrelevant.
We don't get a look in.We don't enter the fray because we can't win. We tell ourselves ruefully, that we are able, but not electable.We don't have the votes.There are too few of us,and we don't speak the idiom of the masses.Instead we have learnt to talk about political issues without the expectations that we will be able to do anything about them...."

Written in 1997 by an Indian technocrat, not very different from many of us, even 14 years later.

Get around to it...NOW

I have begun to do with movies what I have been doing with books for a while now.When was the last time I had a Gulzar movie lying on my disk unwatched...Never!

Humnawaa...

"वो हमसफ़र था मगर उस से हमनवाई न थी 

की धूप छाँव का आलम रहा , जुदाई न थी

न अपना रंज न औरों का दुःख न तेरा मलाल

शब-ए-फ़िराक कभी हमने यूँ गँवाई न थी

मुहब्बतों का सफ़र इस तरह भी गुज़रा था 

शिकस्ता-दिल थे मुसाफिर , शिकस्त पायी न थी

किसे पुकार रहा था वो डूबते हुए दिन

सदा तो आई थी लेकिन कोई दुहाई न थी 

अदावतें थीं , तगाफ़ुल था, रंजिशें थी मगर

बिछड़ने वाले में सब कुछ था , बेवफाई न थी

बिछड़ते वक़्त उन आँखों में थी हमारी ग़ज़ल 

ग़ज़ल भी वो जो किसी को अभी सुनाई न थी

कभी ये हाल की दोनों में यकदिली थी बहुत

कभी ये मरहला जैसे की आशनाई न थी

अजीब होती है ये राह-ए-सुखन भी देख नसीर

वहाँ भी आ गए आखिर जहां रसाई न थी " 

As much as I try, unconsciously of course, to find happiness,in blending with the world, in doing things the 'usual' way, here I am, back to you again.After about 6 months, 6 change-laden months. But there is only so much time can change.
I used to be surprised that I choose a blog when I feel the need to crystallize something in my head.But I have slowly come to realize this is how I compensate for a few things beyond my control.These are conversations I'd have had with them - if X were alive, if Y and I were a little closer than we are, if Z weren't as erratic as myself, if I really could trust Q, if I could still be the same with him.
These are not complaints, not even regrets really, just acceptance of facts as they are.It isn't so bad now to look inward for solace, is it. That's the only thing that seems to work for me.