It is the soul that matters

Tuesday, July 08, 2008


§ Husband watching TV
§ Some girl dancing on TV
§ Wife getting irritated on husband

Wife: Kuch kaam nahi hota tuumse. Bass yehi sab dekhte raho….ye to vohi baat hui na…ghar ki daal bhati nahi…bahar ki murgi bahut pasand aati hai…

Husband: Ye kya laga rakha hai tuumne subah subah?

Wife: Vohi to…subah subah AASTHA, SANSKAAR, aise sab channels lagane chahiye. Un mahatmaon ka aashirwaad lena chahiye. Aur tuum ho ki inn aadhi nangi ladkiyon ko dekhte rehte ho. Ye kya MTV laga ke baithe ho.

Husband: (Looks toward audience): Off fo! Isski ye bak bak to band hoti nahi. Par isska ilaaj hai mere paas.

Gets up from his place, picks up Khujli baba used ear bud and sits back on his seat.

Husband: Ye Khujli baba used ear bud badi kaam ki cheez hai. Awaz filter kar deti hai. Jiske awaz nahi suunni uske saamne iska 1 used part dikhao. Fir Khujli baba ka use kiya hua ear bud apne kaan mein dalo aur bass….CHAMATKAAR!

He can no longer hear what his wife is saying and enjoys what he sees on TV.

Posted by Nats :: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment


Friday, June 27, 2008

A weird dream

A weird dream, but an enjoyable one:
I saw that I was walking back home. On my way, I met Dimple Kapadia. We started talking. It seemed as if she had already known me from before. She invited me home. I readily agreed.
We walked for 5 minutes before we reached her place. I had expected her house to be a big luxurious one, but to my surprise, it was a small 1 bedroom-hall apartment. The sofa sets (Yes, there were two-three sofa sets) occupied a lot of space in the living room and there was very little moving space.
When I entered in, I saw some people sitting while many others were entering. I recognized two girls. They were my school friends. Within a second, we were sitting together and enquiring about each other’s where-about.
They were all there for a reason which I was unaware of. There was an auditorium just behind Dimple Kapadia’s house. A play was going to start there in a short while. Dimple Kapadia invited me for the play. I obviously couldn’t say a No. I called up home and informed my mom that I would be late.
Then we proceeded to her back yard. Wow, what a beautiful sight it was! A beautiful garden with almost all types of flowers there. With all the love I have for botany, I couldn’t name any of the flowers. There was white, pink, purple, yellow, red, orange, blue, and many more.
Later we moved to the auditorium. It was very huge. It was more like a castle, made up of POP. It looked very different and beautiful, but a scary one too.
The play started. Now, I have forgotten what it was about. I just remember that when the play reached its climax, I had this urgent nature’s call. When I told this to my friend, she said she was in the same situation and agreed to join me.
We left the auditorium in search of a rest room. It took us some time to find one, thanks to the huge exteriors of the auditorium. After we were done, we realized that we had lost our way and didn’t know the way back to the auditorium.
Both of us were really scared. We started our search for the auditorium gate. Finally, when we reached the auditorium, it was empty. There was no body there. We were shocked. Both of us were not wearing watches and didn’t know how much time it took us to get back to the auditorium. When we looked at the auditorium watch, it showed us 10 pm. We had left that place at around 8 pm. What we thought were few minutes were actually two hours. The gate to the exit was latched from outside. We were stuck inside.
“Cuckoo-Cuckoo” buzzed the alarm. It was 6am and I had to wake up.

Posted by Nats :: Friday, June 27, 2008 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment


Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Train Travel

Thanks to Shrads posts, I am writing after such a long time. What to write about…She writes about observing people and things around her. That reminded me of an observation, I had promised myself I would write about.
It’s about a train travel.
From the time I entered the ladies compartment of a Borivli bound local, I kept observing this girl and her mother. The girl would be in he late teens. I had never seen her before but she seemed so familiar.
The kind of conversation they were having brought a smile to my face. Nothing specific. They were talking about their day’s activities and were making plans for dinner. But I kept looking at the girl’s face. She always had that saintly smile on her face. She looked so content and so happy with her simple life. That’s why she seemed familiar.
She reminded me of “ME,” when I was a teenager. I remember when people used to tell me that they see me wearing that beautiful smile always. I never used to get frustrated or furious on anyone or anything. I used to look so cool and content at that time. I used to talk with my mom for hours together.
Things have changed over the years. Now, a small reason is enough to irritate me. Not that I wasn’t moody before, but had good control on my moods. But now, I am a slave of my moods. And those long chats with mom, gone…gone away. Its just small talks now.
Life takes away so many beautiful tings from you. Maybe getting into the real world has been really expensive to me. Life does not give me time for all that I love to do. Its so much of a TIMETABLE.
So, 1 message for that cute girl, whose face I just cannot forget. Don’t lose your innocence. You look very beautiful with that smile on your face. And message to her mom – Keep talking to daughter always, however busy life makes you or her.
And one message for myself: Enough of these LIFE excuses. I can still do all that makes me happy. I can still wear that smile always. I always keep telling myself. Happiness comes from within. And this motivating sentence does a wonderful job. And I feel I am a teenager again. Yes, you will see me smile the next time you meet me.

Posted by Nats :: Tuesday, February 12, 2008 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment


Friday, August 24, 2007

Phone story

Lost my phone recently. Not lost…actually it got stolen. I was busy talking with my friend, when I noticed a small girl fidget with my bag. But it was only later that I realized that she had flicked away the first ever pricey gadget possessed by me. It happened at Bandra, near Elco market.
I realized after 5 minutes that my phone was missing. Went to the same spot again, tried spotting the girl, asked some of the localites, but all in vain. Even if they pretended to help, they were of no help. Asked one of them the way to Bandra police station.
Headed there with my friend. Got a chance to speak to some junior inspector. Told him about the incident. Instantly came the reply, “Take a certificate from us, contact your service provider; you will get the same number on a different handset.” God! Felt like slapping him then and there. He suggested talking to some senior inspector. We went and sat across him. That inspector was busy doing some paper work, and for a long time pretended as if we were invisible. Later he got a little courteous, looked up and said “don mint haan”. With a smile on our face and composure maintained, we said “Theek hai”. Some more time passed and we were staring at one other inspector, who was busy beating up someone who looked like a thief. A little scared, we again started looking at the inspector across our table.
Finally, the inspector kept his papers on one side, closed his pen with the cap, and looked towards us. We told him about the entire incident. With a little sympathy on his face, he said “Yes, they do this way only. You should be more careful. (OK, I don’t need your lecture, I want my phone. I know it was my mistake as well. But it’s not usual for me to keep losing phones. You find mine, I promise, I will be careful henceforth.) Don’t worry, I will send one detection team over there, for the time being take the certificate and get your number back.”
Movies experience helped us then (Not to take panga with a police officer). Still maintaining that smile, we said “OK”, took the certificate from there and moved out.
How disgusting. It’s just a phone. They can’t find it. Obviously, it’s their area and they know who stole the phone. The localites told us that those girls keep roaming over there only. But I am sure, their team didn’t take any pains to search it.
Just a certificate works…Is that what the police is for? Just providing certificates. Or, is it that they get their share. Hmm…5 minutes from the police station, those girls keep roaming there always; still the police do not catch them. It is understood. They get their share.
But people like me suffer a lot for being careless once. True, every second matters. People in Mumbai have to be cautious every passing second. Who knows what can happen the next second.

Posted by Nats :: Friday, August 24, 2007 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment


Thursday, June 14, 2007

am tagged...

Alrighty! I am part of the game now. I have been tagged by a sweet little girl (Oops, sorry Shrads).
I have to write my 8 quirks.

STEP 1: Shrad’s Rules
~Start with eight random facts/habits about yourself
~Post these eight quirks on your blog and also post these rules along with them
~At the end of the post.. type in the names of the lucky (eh?) eight who get tagged by you and take this chain forward!

STEP 2: My top eight quirks

I hate the time when night just sets in. It’s neither bright nor completely dark, but more dark than bright. I don’t know why but I hate to be outdoors at that time.
I just can’t tolerate to see women smoking. Weird, I know that it’s ok if I see boys smoking, but girls, I feel like giving them “one tight slap”.
I love to dream. I am always in my own world. I am my best company.
I once tried riding my brother’s TVS Victor…and *dhad* I gifted one uncle a beautiful dent in his new Wagon R. Since then, whenever I sit as a pillion with my brother, I keep imagining, if I were driving now, I would go *dhad* in the car in front, I would go *dhad* in that tree…and all vehicles…and I would be in at least 150--200 pieces when I reach home.
I can’t cook and keep the kitchen clean at the same time. I tried, but somehow the food is tastier when I am only cooking and not bothering about the cleanliness (please see: but the food is not by any chance unhygienic).
I never miss a chance to take a look at myself when I see a mirror.
I have this weird habit of scratching my nose very often. I don’t even realize it, but I get the scratching sensation very often.
I love to keep lots of stationary with me. Pens, pencils, erasers, rulers, sharpeners, stickers. Everyone would hate this, but I would love it if someone gifts me a pen.

STEP 3: Now, three people who get tagged by me

Posted by Nats :: Thursday, June 14, 2007 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment


Tuesday, May 08, 2007

me nostalgic...

Just getting nostalgic…nothing specific and no one special…but everything seems special and everyone seems so special…just wish could see them some day…some where in our busy lives.

Met an old friend the other day, rather an acquaintance…a batch mate…But I was so glad to see her. She got married, like many of her class mates. Man, realized then that we are growing old. Life has told us “Welcome to life” long back, but may be we or I still haven’t comprehended it. That feeling is still to sink in. I have grown up. Parents say its time to get married, to go to another house, to take life seriously, to change life completely. I ask myself if I am ready. Sometimes I get “Yes” as an answer, sometimes “No”. Sometimes I feel I am still a 7 year old who loves to sit in the swing, to slide down the slider, to take life as it comes, to just live life carefree, who still loves to get wet in the rain, who likes to sit in the baggi, who loves talking to ma about the days happenings, who just loves chit chatting about nothing with her friends. At other times I feel, ok…I have grown up…I am ready to take care of a family, ready to behave matured, ready to talk sense always.

But, to all people who would be a part of my “grown up” life, listen; I always love to be a kid, to be treated like a kid, to be carefree like a kid.

Posted by Nats :: Tuesday, May 08, 2007 :: 3 comments

Post a Comment


Sunday, April 22, 2007

Hospital story

"Kona sathi bari hou mee?" (For whom do I get better?), cried a 90 year old lady on her hospital bed. I was on the bed next to hers recuperating from a fractured arm. The old lady would repeat this sentence many times a day and the lady sitting next to her bed, would get up and hug her. "Why do you say this aai? I am right here for you." But the old lady would give it a deaf ear and continue to cry.

Puzzled, I always used to think when her daughter is sitting next to her, why does she always cry saying For whom do I get better. I am not very good with Marathi. My mother who is very fluent in Marathi asked the young lady for clarification. She said that she was not her daughter but only a paid nurse. It was my first day in the hospital and the old lady had spent close to 15 days there. I learnt from the nurse that she was suffering from a kidney problem, and was giving a positive response from the medicines she ate. But the lady wasn’t happy from within. The nurse said the lady was blessed with 4 children, but now, when she needs them the most, no one was near her.

The nurse, Asha, used to feel very bad and sad for the lady. She once said “I know her since many years. She and her husband worked very hard for good upbringing of their four children. Reshma was the eldest. Then Vinay, Seema and Ajay, the youngest. Reshma passed away when she was only 21. I had seen this lady then. She was shattered, but soon realized that life has to go on and she had to take care of her other 3 kids… You know how difficult it is for any mother to see her young child pass away in front of her eyes. She was very keen to send both her sons abroad. Parents then, used to feel that if their child is in the USA, they are settled. And she was one of them. Or maybe she just wanted them to earn well and live lavishly and not see the poor days that she had seen in her life. She used to say it with pride that both her sons are in the United States of America. She got Seema married in a very nice, rich house. She is so happy there. But she is not happy with her mother because she has transferred her flat to both her sons only. Maybe she was wrong in doing that. or maybe Seema didn’t deserve it….”

It seemed like she was saying something but suddenly stopped. After a little pause, she continued. “And now, when the same mother needs them the most, no one is there by her side. What does she ask for? Just few sweet words. What does she long for? Just for their touch. And they cannot give her even that. Now also, she blames herself only. She tells me - it’s my fault. Why do you blame them? I sent them abroad. Now work is also important na. They can’t leave their work for me, can they? And I say – why can’t they? They can and they should. You are their mother. You need them... But whenever I say something against them, she would give it a deaf ear. See this is a mother. I feel so bad for her.

Her sons sent me the money to buy a mobile phone. They keep calling up every other day to find her status. What do I tell them? I have told them a lot many times that it’s you that she needs and no medicines and they keep telling me, O Asha we are not getting any leaves. We are trying… Now you need permission to meet your mother also.

Sometimes, I feel she should die.” Saying this, Asha started crying.

I didn’t know how to react. I had my mother to nurse me 24*7. I just hugged her felt thankful that she was there for me. Right then, I made up my mind I would always be there for my mother.

Later some time I asked my mother, “If Asha says the old lady is not upset with her kids, why does she keep screaming Kona sathi bari hou mee? Why does she always keep crying?”
My mother just smiled and said “Beta, she says that in her subconscious state. That is what she feels now. She is unhappy from within. But she feels she cannot express her feelings in front of anyone. Maybe not even in front of her kids. So, whatever she can’t say in her conscious state comes out in her subconscious state and she doesn’t even realize that. At present she just needs her kids by her side.”

“But, don’t you think this old lady was wrong in not giving anything to her daughter? As Asha said, she has given her property only to her sons. She didn’t give anything to her daughter.”
“Well, I can’t comment on that. What came in her mind, I cannot be sure of. I do not even know what consequences led to this.”

I was there in the hospital for 5 days. I used to see her wet eyes waiting to see her kids. And in ‘subconscious’ state, as mummy said she would say lots. “Konasathi bari hou mee? Konn aahe majha? Yeshu mala ney….Mala ney yeshu. (For whom do I get better? Who is there for me? Take me away, O Christ, take me away.)”

Don’t know whom to blame here. The mother who sent her kids abroad and was unfair to her daughter, the kids who couldn’t remove time to come to see their ailing mother, their jobs (if at all they wanted to come but were helpless), or just her old age. Whatever it be, but it was an altogether new experience for me. I met one other side of life there.

Posted by Nats :: Sunday, April 22, 2007 :: 3 comments

Post a Comment


Friday, April 20, 2007

Kitni hulchul, kitna bhagambhag
hai iss ilake ki sada pe,

Par akela sa mera mann,
jaise registan ki banjar mein,

Kabhi uthta hai ek tufan sa,
jaise tsunami ki lehron mein,

Kabhi shant ho jata hai sab kuch,
jaise mritkon ke chehron pe

Posted by Nats :: Friday, April 20, 2007 :: 2 comments

Post a Comment