Friday, July 28, 2006

Meree Awaaz Suno!

Being punctual sometimes is wasting your time, being alone, waiting, checking your watch every second! Craning your neck to see whether your train, your bus, your person is in sight!

Why be punctual then? Very simple. Punctuality is a VIRTUE and should be practiced and encouraged.

Everyday at eight in the morning ,the school bus picks four students from the stop near my building. I am at my study room window to view this. My son is one of the four students who boards this bus to school.

The bus is often punctual . It arrives late, only when the traffic is a bit slow .. All of them wait for it as I do at my window. Out of the four students, two of them are often late to catch the bus. The bus driver is considerate and waits until they arrive, while the other two are almost always on time.

But this morning was different; one elevator of our building was not working . Going down twenty-five floors is quiet a job .My son had to wait for the only other working lift as it served each floor. I was already at the window and I saw the bus ( on time today) approach the stop, the three kids boarded it. The automatic door closed and it moved away. My son reached the spot about 90 seconds late, seeing no one around he looked up to see if I was there. I signaled to him that the bus had already left. He rushed to take the public transport to be on time for his morning prayers at school.

Why did the bus driver not consider waiting (even a few more seconds) for the student (my son) who is always punctual? For a moment I felt he was not fair. Was the driver in a bad mood? I have seen him wait even for five minutes (300seconds) on some other days. Then why did he not wait today?

The only reason I could arrive at was if a very punctual student is not on time, it is assumed that he is not going to school. He must be absent for the day. Yet I feel that the driver should have considered waiting a few more seconds for the benefit of the doubt or my son.

I wonder if I should take to heart that although being punctual is good, being punctual ALWAYS may not be so good.

Does the virtue of punctuality ill suits the one who is always on time?

Friday, July 21, 2006

Sunday School ...

Nine year old Joey was asked by his mother what he had learned at Sunday school.

"Well, Mom, our teacher told us how God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue mission to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. "

When he got to the Red Sea, he had his engineers build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely.

"Then he used his walkie-talkie to radio headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up the bridge and all the Israelites were saved."

"Now, Joey, is that really what your teacher taught you?" his mother asked.

"Well, no. But if I told it the way the teacher did, you'd never believe it!"

Monday, July 17, 2006


I was on Usha's blog, having some time on my hands, I clicked on a comment on her recent post only to feed my want - to inquire.

Friends,this click took me to a blog which has just begin to bloom.

In her very first post she says, “My children tell me owning a blog is the surest sign that one is still young at heart :) ”.

Here, I read with a child-like wonder. Words that were deeper, simpler than my daily prayers. They made me listen and surrender. They confirmed my trust that the every day begins to remind that all want the same things _”to be happy and be loved”

This blog has just laid its foundation, its building and it is growing. She writes to tell about a wonderful life lived, and is going strong with the every U-turn she takes with her new acquired Red Maruti Alto.

I am with her on the longest journey which begins from my mind into my heart …

Sunday, July 16, 2006




I know this is weird to hear
and wow it's awkward for me to say
But I was hoping if you weren't busy
we could go out on a date today

I'm not a pervert or anything
but I appreciate all your qualities
And I hope you know
that friends are one of life's rare commodities

So if you want a joyous outing of smiling
until our nice time ends
I hope you'll give me a call
and we can be best of friends

Thursday, July 13, 2006

How do we see yet, be so blind ...

You don't get it.
What does it matter,nothing will last .
You ask yourself, What is today?
"today is tomorrow a piece of the past".
It can never last.

The shared moments are only passing times
A piece of your heart lies forever in friends;
who never change your thoughts.

How do we see yet, be so blind

"Life is too short to live with regret"

It gets better as time goes by to look for the good,
at least give it a try ...

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Completely Anonymous ?!!?

Hi, "Passer By" (I wish I knew you real name) -


I just heard about the commuter train bombing and wanted to check to see if you are ok or if you need any kind of help.

Please let me know when you can, ok?


Dear Blogreader,
I received this short caring message this morning, I extend this to one and all in mumbai.
I pray for peace, love and care.

I don't have a death wish ...

A broken heart, a trembling mind and a bleeding soul
Are what were left behind when you went with the waves

I keep trudging along our cherished memories
Did they realize that you were the right, me the left, treading together the desert and woods alike;
You my inspiration and my company your delight.

We balanced each other but now I remain collapsed;
I‘ve nothing left , but Faith that things will become easier; and keep me alive

Going on does not come easily as many see it to be

I recall all the good times we shared through all the years
The pain I feel will be within; until my fading day
Will we ever meet in this vast expanse before me.

No … I don’t have a death wish only feel loneliness and pain
That grows with every touching wave, but not taking me away .

Sunday, July 09, 2006


I was using it for a crossword puzzle book at the airport. The pages of the book were soft, I was irritated as my pencil refused to write at times. I always carry pencils rather than a pen in my handbag.

Pencils have always had a place in my heart. They write well on regular paper. I attend seminars and find they provide with pencils rather than a pen. I can chew, stomp a pencil, it still works. It needs no ink or battery to operate. It floats too. And can work just fine after getting wet.

My pencil also has a small “better than nothing” eraser at its one end. This encourages me to make mistakes. Wise men advice and encourage mistakes. The best thing about with a pencil is that you can change by simply erasing it.

Pencils can do extraordinary things, they are best for tagging plants; graphite does not fade in the sun, Pencils can be handy when you need to stir your coffee or tea ( not always you can locate a spoon ) incidentally the eraser adds a nice flavor to it. Pencils can be used as toothpicks and they are world-class back scratchers!

Like pens, pencils too are mightier than the sword, And you can hide this sword between your wrist, shirt sleeve and between you socks and ankles. An average pencil can be sharpened 17 times, write 45,000 words or draw line 35 miles long. No doubt, that is why Ernest Hemingway used pencils for writing.

When I was in class two, I remember my classmate tell me, that one could make an eraser at home. She explained the procedure. I was happy to have learnt it. I shared this news with my younger sister, and we both decided to experiment it. We smuggled a box of 12 pencils from the stationery cupboard. Sharpened each pencil to the very end of it. This valuable dust we placed in a clean bottle, added lots of perfume ( this bottle of perfume was gifted to Mom) some glue and a little water. As per, her instructions, to protect this solution from sunlight, we placed this bottle in the extreme, dark corner of the wardrobe ( the way mom kept her pickle Jars).

My friend confirmed, that in a couple of days this would set (like jelly or custard) and soon we would have home-made eraser … wow!!!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

... And On One Valentine's Day

Life went on monotonously. One valentine's day a letter arrived to her surprise. She tore open the envelope with a slight tremble

No letter was there except a few dry petals of a rose. Even though they were dry, the fragrance of them seemed so fresh.

She stared at them in wonder.

She noticed that something was scribbled on them. She took them out gently and placed them on her palm with utmost care.

They only said: "I erred everywhere in the name of love only".

Monday, July 03, 2006

Why does a true love ... ???

The sages tell us that this is one of the higher orders of love, and I wonder if they may indeed be right.. Most people already love their children in this way.
But, could we not, gradually, try to extend this kind of acceptance to other persons in our lives? For the more that we can bring acceptance into our lives, even in a small way, the closer we come to understanding true love.

Why can't we find
Feelings so gentle their power mightn't smother
Lavished onto one but not reflected to the other
Maybe caring mirrored but not to awe-worthy perfection
Why does a true love flow in only one direction?

Where did it go
Mystery so shrouded that we cannot pierce its veil
Magic only to be found in fanciful kids' tale
Fires of forever but requited with rejection
Why does a true love flow in only one direction?

I pound my fist
In wonder, was there a sign I missed
Some clue as to why you don't return my kiss

Leaving me lost in heart-aching perplexion
With a love that burns true ...... but not in both directions