my musings...

Usually when I write something, I am clear on what the end is going to be, what is the objective that I am writing for. And this is not because I spend hours on thinking how and what to write but rather it is because one of the things that I am really good at, is... procrastination. I would feel like writing on a topic and then I would actually put my thoughts in words months later. But sometimes it happens that the topic is already there, lying dormant in your conscious and then some trigger just brings it to the surface. This is one such topic. So let me start from the beginning. Last weekend I was going to a nearby place, Bhongir, for a outing. I had to spend 2.5 hours at the railway station waiting for the train. And before you assume that the train was late, let me make it clear that I was left waiting because the train that I thought would take me to Bhongir, didn't run on Sunday. But then years of missing the 1'o clock local at Pune has done wonders to my patience and

बैठा था में उस किनारे औरों से थोड़ा दूर, थोड़ा परे, सामने मेरे थी बिखरती हुई लहरें लग रहा था की समय बस यही पे ठहरे। लहरों की वो लयबद्ध आवाज़ शांति का एहसास दिला रही थी, आनेवाली संध्या का साज देखने आँखें क्षितिज पे मेरी टिकी हुई थी। धीरे धीरे सूरज समंदर की तरफ बढ़ रहा था आकाश के चित्रपटल पे नए रंगों का जन्म हो रहा था, अपनी किरणों की कुँचियों को बेफिक्री से चलाए वो अपनी कलाकारी की अद्भुत छाप छोड़ रहा था। प्रकृति की वो शानदार रचना लेकिन मन को मेरे खाए जा रही थी, उस चित्र की क्षणिक सुंदरता मुझे एक अजीब मायूसियत से भर रही थी। लग रहा था ये सूरज कभी डूबे ही नहीं ये चित्र कभी आँखों के सामने से हटे ही नहीं, लेकिन मेरे चाहने से भला क्या होता है? जाता है वो जिसे जाना ही होता है। आखिर सूरज अलविदा कहके चला ही गया जाते जाते थोड़े और रंगों को बिछाएं, शायद उन आँखों को उसे कहना था शुक्रिया जो आखिर तक उसके साथ रहे, अपनी नमी को छुपाएं। वो सुंदरता मेरे नसीब में हमेशा के लिए शायद थी ही नहीं, मैंने भी आस लगाई थी उस चीज़ की जो कभी मुमकिन थी ही नहीं। फिर भी अंत में जीवन में मेरे

It has not been many days since I ran my second 10k run successfully. The last time I participated in the run it was more of a walk than a run. This time it was half run half walk and I completed it in lesser time than I had expected. I was pleasantly surprised by this and I saw the same feeling echoed by most the other runners from HTC. It is one of the things I really like about marathons in general. You are in competition with yourselves, not others. This time I had decided to finish better and actually do some running in the 10k run. Everyone was trying to do better than what they would normally do. The atmosphere around, the positive encouragement and an urge to be better drives us all to put that extra spring in every step. Competition is not new to us. We compete in every sphere of our lives. From getting good grades to getting placed, life has been a series of competitions. From competing with Sharmaji ka ladka to competing with Vermaji ki beti, it has mostly been competition

When I was studying engineering, we learnt in one of the subjects that a less probable event conveys more information. 'The sun rises in the east' - hmm... ok... everyone knows this... so what? See what I mean, zero information. But when you read 'Click here to know xyz about Nick Priyanka's wedding', now that's information(according to news outlets) since the probability of a common person knowing that xyz is miniscule. [Disclaimer: The subject only dealt with quantity of information. It didn't have any theory on the quality of information.(Although I wish it did, so that I could use it to purge my news feed)]. Anyways, I am writing about probability of events because often in our lives, rare events or one-off moments are the ones which make the most impact. An unplanned trip to Lonavala will be the one of your best outings(despite a lack of candid pics which you pose for). An unexpected act of kindness remains etched in your conscience changing your o

Recently I had to visit a hospital in one of the rural cities. It has always been a pleasure to return to a simpler and healthier life of villages. This time around though, there was an undertone of worry because of the hospital visit. My uncle who was a patient there, was hooked up to a slew of medical machines continuously monitoring his vitals. It is difficult to describe in words what I felt when I saw one of the toughest and fiercest person I know hooked up to all those wires, unable to utter a few sentences. In the afternoon it was time for him to take his juice. The bed in the ICU was an automated one which will tilt the upper half so that the patient is in the sitting position. The sister there pressed the button to activate the mechanism but after two three presses we realized that there was no electricity and hence we couldn't get the patient in sitting position. Since my uncle is a well built village man, two of us had to support him to make him sit on the bed. I was

एका टेकडीवर एक छोटंसं झाड होतं खुंटलेलं, उगाच वेडंवाकडं वाढलेलं आजूबाजूला सगळंच ओसाड, भकास ना पशु-पक्षी, ना माणसांचा त्रास. नुसताच सरसरणारा वारा, बेछूट, बेधडक भिडणारा पण तो मात्र एका स्थळी स्थिर सोशिकपणे वाऱ्याला तोंड देणारा. जवळच दुसऱ्या एका टेकडीवर होते त्याचे काही भाऊबंद भलीमोठी त्यांची उंची खोडही त्यांचे रुंद. बाजूच्या टेकडीवरच्या जंगलाकडे तो रोजच उदास नजरेने पाही त्याला आठवे तो काळ जेव्हा इकडे ही नांदत होती हिरवाई. वेडावाकडा असला तरी त्याच्या कुटुंबाचा तो लाडका होता जास्त नसले जरी मोजक्या मित्राचा तो यार होता. एके दिवशी मात्र, या आनंदवनावर काळ बरसला कुऱ्हाडीच्या घावागणिक, एक एक जण धारातीर्थी पडला त्यांच्या शेवटच्या घटकेतही ते, 'काळजी घे' सांगत निघून गेले कुणाच्यातरी स्वार्थाग्निवर, त्याचे कुटुंब स्वाहा झाले. आता आपली पण वेळ आली असे समजून त्याने डोळे घट्ट मिटून घेतले कुऱ्हाडीच्या घावाच्या अपेक्षेने त्याने अंग अकसून घेतले पण तो कुऱ्हाडीचा घाव कधी आलाच नाही डोळे उघडले, तेव्हा गमावले होते त्याने सर्वकाही. कावरा-बावरा झालेला तो, समजत नव्हत

The present age is often termed as the media age. There are numerous tools at our disposal that cater to our need to communicate with each other. Freedom of expression has become our second nature. In fact we rarely think about what we speak. Freedom of movement is exercised by millions everyday. And many of us are not even aware that we have 'Freedom of religion' because rarely anyone has to exercise it consciously. But imagine yourselves living in an age where these freedoms don't exist. Where hunger is prevalent and people are starving. Where people have to pay 'jizya' to go to pilgrimage sites. Where people are not free to celebrate festivals and worship their Gods openly. This was Maharashtra before Shivaji Maharaj. Its said that, 'The darkest hour is just before the dawn'. The arrival of Shivaji Maharaj was the first ray of sunlight tearing through the heart of surrounding darkness. Shiv Jayanti is the celebration of the birth of a Maratha King in s

Recently one of my friends posted a question on FB as to why do you travel? He got many responses to the question including mine. Many of the responses had the common thread of exploration, perspective, life is short etc. Even when I was writing my response I wanted it to be brief, but ended up writing quite a few lines. Many days have passed since, and I have visited some more new places and gained new experiences. But it is not always about the pleasant experiences and beautiful locations. Sometimes you are stranded at a bus stop and meet some unpleasant people or have the beautiful image of the place that you have in your mind, destroyed by the ground realities. It is at these times I think to myself, why do I do this? I know this sounds corny, but such questions inevitably occur when you are waiting for the train for 10 hours. (I reached 6 hours early and the universe rewarded my overzealous punctuality by delaying the train by 4 hours. I finished a novel in that time, cleared the