I have been walking for the last several years. I like walking. At one time, when I was younger, I used to jog, especially long distances. But then, the doctor told me that jogging on metalled roads harms the knee-joints. So, I walk without any fear of undue wear and tear of knees.
Running or walking on the tread-mill in a gym never fascinated me. I am an outdoor person and I hate being cooped up in an office the whole day. Whatever little time I have to keep me fit cannot be spent inside a gym looking at cold machines and weights and other gadgets or to look at myself in large mirrors. I am not talking about the physical benefits of being in a gym. All I am saying is that mentally and temperamentally I don’t relish being in a cage.
I walk very fast; almost close to running. However, I still have time to breathe in air and perceive its changes in seasons, times of day and night, and in the proximity. There are these crepuscular birds flying silently in jagged arrowheads. Sometimes I see them against the sun, changing shades of red until they mingle with blackness of the approaching night.
I walk very fast and yet have time to look at crepuscular birds
Walking in the rains is an art by itself. One has to wait until the rain stops to a slow drizzle and then you go out like Gene Kelly Dancing in the Rain. There are times when the fog engulfs you and you are surprised to see people coming out of thick fog as if by magic. Then you observe them dexterously moving around with their umbrellas.
In Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, where I have a house in the Jal Vayu Defence Enclave, just across from the Kharghar Golf Course, you see the twin Pandavakada Falls with a beeline of people going towards the falls to see them from close distance and get sprayed by its raging waters.
Pandavakada Falls in Kharghar as seen during my walks
Walks enable you to observe people’s behaviour closely. For example, I notice that I have hardly come across a two wheeler driver looking straight ahead. He or she is either busy talking to the person on the pilion seat by tilting head backwards or observing the scenery. I also notice that vehicles in Mumbai, especially two wheelers, go straight to the point of destination from where they are and don’t worry too much about being on the wrong side of median.
I also observe people taking their pet dogs for walk. I see that there are very few who take the pets; in majority of the cases, it is the pets that take them for walk. Sometimes, I feel envious of the pets.
Sometimes when you go for walks early mornings, you find that the moon hasn’t set yet and sun hasn’t risen and you get the illusion of having moon looking like sun.
By the way, that brings me to the point that you never walk alone; the sun, the moon, the stars, they all walk with you.
(Sun or moon? Well, who cares?)
Then, once in a while, during the rains, you come across a rainbow and you marvel at the fact that not only God made colours but He presented them in the most alluring manner to all of us. Your heart wants to swing on the rainbow.
Then, early mornings, you also see devotees walking by singing hymns. The Sikhs have a Gurudwara on the other end of the Central Park and they go, together with women and children, one week in a year, on what is called Prabhat Pheri (Early Morning Walk-around). We also have an ISKCON temple (under construction) close-by. It is such a tranquil sight to see a small group going past singing hymns of Lord Krishna.
And, it is not just the people and the birds that I come across. I come across dogs either playfully sprinting in a pack or pups feeding on their mother. In all cases, like children, there is so much of excitement about them.
And then, there is walking in the evenings. The sun sets over the hill. An occasional flight goes past since on the other side of the hill is the Santa Cruz airport. There is a lot of noise but slowly colours and noise fades, the lights come on slowly and everything starts becoming serene like the waters of this small lake in the Central Park.
Gradually, yellow becomes crimson and crimson becomes black and night engulfs you and takes you in your arms with promise of another day, another part of your journey on earth.
Come the morning, you again want to be out, walking, walking, walking. You look at the sun and you see it reflected in the lake and you learn about life itself. There is no such teaching in a gym: you sweat, you add muscles and off you go.
And then the hustle and bustle of the new day starts again. The milk-man going on his bicycle with two milk drums perched on either side of his bicycle rear carrier, and some skaters skating on the roads for want of a skating rink anywhere close by.
I walk very fast; a little less than seven minutes a kilometre. However, I always have time to see, observe and click pictures; including this of mine at the end of the walk, breathless but full of joy and satisfaction:
Yellow flowers are my favourite. These were clicked by me during a walk on the road side:
As you were reading this article and looking at the pictures, it must have occurred to you that I am blessed and living in exquisite surroundings; the hills, the falls, the lake etc. I would like you to consider that such beauty would be anywhere. This is not in the hills; this is in Mumbai itself. Such beauty lies close to where you too live. All that you have to remember is to see as you walk past. And also remember what Rabindranath Tagore had said:
“Eyes can see only dust and earth,
But feel it with your heart, it is pure joy.
The flowers of delight blossom on all sides, in every form,
But where is your heart’s thread to weave them in a garland?”
I can never walk in a gym. I have to be in the open where the water-falls, the grass, the sky, the birds, the people, the sun and the moon beckon me.
I walk with them.
I hope, with this, I have encouraged you enough to walk in the open rather than in a gymnasium. In the latter you seek physical fitness only. Walking in the open is for your total well-being.
In the year 1999, the Navy decided to send me to command the Navy’s largest establishment area-wise, the Very Low Frequency Station INS Kattabomman. Now, being a Punjabi, I had tough time explaining to my larger family and friends in Punjab the name of the establishment that I was going to command. For them ‘katta’ clearly meant a male-calf of a buffalo and they joked that I was the most suitable person to command something as rustic as a ‘katta’ with or without ‘bomman’.
Gradually, however, the sense of pride sank in when I discovered that we were, at that time, one of the only six countries in the world who had such a station. The VLF transmitter is so large that it occupies a complete and huge three storey building. The antenna covers a radius of approximately a kilometre plus 200 metres. The establishment is so large that many a times, the families have gone for a picnic within the establishment.
The establishment was named after Kattabomman or Veerapandiya Kattabomma Karuthayya Nayakkar, the country’s first freedom fighter against the British. He was a courageous 18th-century Palayakarrar (‘Polygar’) chieftain from Panchalankurichi of Tamil Nadu, India. His ancestors migrated to Tamil Nadu from Kandukur area of Prakasam district in present day Andhra Pradesh during the Vijayanagara period. He waged a war with the British six decades before the Indian War of Independence occurred in the Northern parts of India.
I had a grand parade presented to me for taking over and then the erstwhile Commanding Officer and I retired to my office to carry out Handing Over/Taking Over Procedures. After handing over, my predecessor went to the CO’s House to catch an early morning train.
Finally, I had the establishment to myself. The sense of pride and joy was however short-lived.
Within about an hour of my taking over, my XO came rushing in and said that a sailor had climbed the Communication Centre mast (not the VLF mast which is about 300 metres high but the Comcen mast, which was still quite high) and refused to come down and threatened to commit suicide. Now, this was an emergency for me. Imagine, finally in command of a prestigious establishment and you are greeted by the sight of a sailor about to jump from a high mast.
Fortunately for me my wife rang up, at that time, from Vizag to congratulate me on my taking over command. I quickly told her about the determined-to-commit-suicide sailor. She said under no circumstances anyone in authority should talk to him as he was likely to carry out his threat. It should be a lady who should speak to him preferably in his lingo and preferably in civilian attire.
Now, on parade, I had seen our lady doctor and I immediately sent for her. I explained the urgency to her and told her she should talk to him as a friend, or a sister and somehow bring him down and that no attempt should be made to have a show of authority.
Sudha did her job rather well and after about an hour or so the sailor climbed down.
It came out that he appeared for the CW (Commission Worthy) Exam to become an officer, failed and the other sailors chided him relentlessly with such taunts as ‘unfit to be a sailor, unfit to be an officer’; and asking for confirmation if he was finally an aam aadmi like the rest of them.
I did not report the case at all. I worked on the sailor for the next few days. Eventually, he became one of the best sailors in Kattabomman.
Many people emotionally re-enact the famous water tank soo-side scene of the Hindi block-buster Sholay. Basanti may not always be the reason or the cause, I discovered. Soo-side is not just the way the Angrez go (like the famous point by that name in Kodaikanal, named after a British lady). Our indigenous people too get an urge to do it sometimes.
Sholay was right in one respect though: No lamboo (or Jai) can do anything without a willing mausi.
I am a Punjabi Sikh by birth; my dad’s side of the family being from the village in Ropar (now Rupnagar) district of Punjab, and my mother’s side of people from village Urapur near Nawanshaher in Punjab.
From the time I was small, I have been exposed to Punjabi humour. About a year ago, I have started a group on Facebook to promote Punjabi humour. The group is called ‘Laugh With The Punjabis’. At the time of writing it has nearly 12000 members.
Why Punjabi jokes and humour? Punjabis are the only people who can not only sportively take a joke on themselves, but, can be expected to tell you two jokes about themselves for every one cracked by you. The community is now counted amongst the most progressive and generous communities in the world.
You can always join the group (it is free to men and women, boys and girls of all communities, regions, age and nationalities. I have ensured that none of the humour there is directed against any people. And, you don’t laugh at the Punjabis but laugh with the Punjabis.
Santa and Banta migrated to America and got job in the rocket fuel department at NASA Houston.
Most of their salary was spent, like that of any Punjabi, on “khaan-peen” especially peen (drinking).
One day, Santa and Banta had a fight during working hours. Santa gave a push to Banta who fell into rocket fuel and he involuntarily tasted it.
He told Santa to taste it too and they felt that it was a potent drink like rum or whisky.
So, they forgot their fighting and helped themselves to tasting more and more of rocket fuel. They had a jolly good time and got pissed and went home and slept.
Next morning, Banta received an urgent phone call from Santa, “O Banteya, jadd toilet jaayenga tanh toilet seat nu zor naal phadd lainyi.”
Banta: Kyun Santeya?
Santa: Main China tonh bol reha haan!
Old Time Joke #25, Flavour of Punjab
Still valid after more than five decades:
In our village in Punjab, on one rare occasion, a train arrived on time.
It was a stunning event and the villagers quickly organised a function; garlanded the engine and the driver and distributed sweets. A speech praising the engine driver was made by the Sarpanch and the engine driver was asked to say a few words.
Engine Driver: Bahut meharbaani haaran layi, mithaai layi ate iss function layi. Per sachi dassan tanh main inna da hakdaar nahin; kyunki eh kal di gaddi hai!
Old Time joke #26, Flavour of Punjab
(Excerpt from an actual speech by Giani Zail Singh ji)
Bhaarat ek bahut mahaan desh hai. Alagg alagg praant hain, jahan alagg alagg tarah ke log rehate hain. Inake alagg alagg dharam hain jaisee Hindu, Musalmaan, Sikh, Isaayi. Inaki alagg alagg bhashayen hain jaise Punjab mein Punjabi, Himachal mein Himachali, Bengal mein Bengali, Tamilnadu mein Tamilnadi aur Kerala mein Kerali.
Old Time Joke #27, Flavour of Punjab
Actual ad in Tribune of Chandigarh:
Handsome Jatt Sikh, 6 feet, well-built, with 50 acres land wants to marry beautiful and tall Sikh girl with a tractor. Interested girls send picture of tractor.
Old Time Joke #28, Flavour of Punjab
After the partition in 1947, as this Punjabi family from Lahore shifted to Ludhiana, the father had a pet reply to all the demands of his only son: “Oye, oh tanh reh gayi Lahore.” For example, the conversation between them would go somewhat like this:
After a few days, the son asked: Papa, mainu ik camera lai deyo.
Father: Nahin beta, camera tanh saare reh gaye Lahore.
Much to the consternation of the son, this had become the order of the day. One day, the son, brought his report card home with zero marks in most subjects.
Father: Oye, tere number kithe ne?
Son: Chhado daddy; number tanh saare reh gaye Lahore.
Father (hot under the collar): Oye, tameez naa gal kar; main tera peyo haan.
Son: Per papa, peyo tanh saare reh gaye Lahore!
(Pic courtesy: itsmyviews.com)
(Pic courtesy: nativepakistan.com)
Old Time Joke #29, Flavour of Punjab
Balwant and Satwant two friends were going on a mobike and felt the strong breeze hitting them hard in the winters. Especially, the wind was going from the shirt front gaps between the buttons and slashing their chests like bullets.
So, they came up with a practical idea. They wore their shirts backwards and helped each other button them up.
After some time, the mobike hit against a gadda (bullock cart) and they and the mobike fell.
The villagers rushed to give them “first-aid” as they would readily do in any village in Punjab.
Later, in the police report, the following statement was recorded by a few witnesses: “Accident serious si. Dona bechaareyan diyan gardanaa (necks) buri tarah mud gayiyan si. Aseen jadon seedhiyan keetiyan tanh dona ne dum tod ditta.”
Old Time Joke #30, Flavour of Punjab
Kartar slapped a man in the market, heartily on the back, and excitedly said, “Oye Satinder, bade saalan baad miliya hain. Waah bhai waah, chehra badal gaya, rang dhang badal gaya, pugg da style badal gaya, chaal badal gayi….”
The other man: Bhai saab, meraa naam Satinder nahin hai ji.
Kartar unfazed: Waah bhai waah; naam bhi badal leya!
Continue laughing with the Punjabis; more to follow in subsequent posts.
I am a Punjabi Sikh by birth; my dad’s side of the family being from the village in Ropar (now Rupnagar) district of Punjab, and my mother’s side of people from village Urapur near Nawanshaher in Punjab.
From the time I was small, I have been exposed to Punjabi humour. About a year ago, I have started a group on Facebook to promote Punjabi humour. The group is called ‘Laugh With The Punjabis’. At the time of writing it has nearly 12000 members.
Why Punjabi jokes and humour? Punjabis are the only people who can not only sportively take a joke on themselves, but, can be expected to tell you two jokes about themselves for every one cracked by you. The community is now counted amongst the most progressive and generous communities in the world. You can always join the group (it is free to men and women, boys and girls of all communities, regions, age and nationalities. I have ensured that none of the humour there is directed against any people. And, you don’t laugh at the Punjabis but laugh with the Punjabis. You have already read seventeen old-time jokes with the flavour of Punjab in ‘Laugh With The Punjabis – Part I’ and ‘Laugh With The Punjabis – Part II’. These are the jokes recounted by me in the group that I am nostalgic about. I used to hear them in my childhood and boyhood days. Lets continue with the old-time jokes.
Old Time Joke #18, Flavour of Punjab
Munda: Chal Jaan, picture dekhan chaliye. Pichhli seats te baithange. Kudi: Je pichhali seats diyan tiktan naa miliyan pher?
Munda: Pher picture dekh lawaange!
Old Time Joke #19, Flavour of Punjab
Sardar Ujjagar Singh jithe bhi jaanda si, transistor naal rakhda si. Ik din usane, Jalandhar rickshaw layi Railway Station Jaan layi. Uthe usane train layi Amritsar jaan layi aur uthe Ruckshaw layi ghar jaan layi.
All throughout he had his transistor on to listen to songs. In between, the news broadcast came on with the opening sentence, “Yeh aakashwani Jalandhar hai.” Hearing this he hit the rickshaw-puller with his umbrella, “Oye, tin ghante ho gaye; aje Jalandhar hi ghumaayi jaa reha hain?”
Old Time Joke #20, Flavour of Punjab
Satwant bahut padaayi kar ke Akhkhan (Eyes) da daakter ban gaya. Ik din ik mareez us kol aaya aur usne keha: “Daakter saab; marz da ilaaj dasso…ik ik cheez do do nazar aandi hai”.
Satwant (Thodi der ghoor ke dekhan to baad): “Thuaanu charan nu ehi problem hai?”
Old Time Joke #21, Flavour of Punjab
Kirpal: Bhagwaane, ajj main 5 rupaye bacha laye.
His Wife: Oh kiddan?
Kirpal: Sabere jadd main office jaan waaste bus stop te pahunchaya tanh dekhyaa bus nikal rahi si. Main pichhe pichhe nadhaya aur office pahunch gaya. Bus Ticket de punj rupaye bach gaye.
Wife: Tussi bewakoof ho ji. Sau rupaye bhi bacha sakde si je taxi de pichhe nadh de.
Old Time Joke #22, Flavour of Punjab
Santa and Banta went for a walk and came across a nice open piece of land. They rested there for a little while and started day-dreaming.
Santa: Yaar Bante je zameen saanu mil jaaye tanh aapan ki karaange?
Banta: Aapan ganne lagaawange.
Santa: Oh tanh sab theek hai, per naal waale pind tonh loki aa aa ke todange ate ganne choopange.
Banta: Nahin, aapan fence lagaawange.
Santa: Kai pind waale bade haraami hunde ne, oh fence tapp ke bhi aa jaande ne
Banta: Gall tanh teri theek hai, Sante; chal ohna nu jaake darust karde haan.
So the complete pind of Santa and Banta went and sorted out the neighbouring pind. Black eyed and wounded, the village people asked: Par saada kasoor ki hai?
And Banta replied angrily: Hore choopo ganne!
Old Time Joke #23, Flavour of Punjab
When I was small, in our village, a theft took place. All jewellery, money and costly items were missing.
However, when they searched, they found these items lying wrapped in a sheet next to the wall. Now this was very surprising and various people started giving various theories.
After listening to all theories, Joginder Singh Jagga came up with his own theory:
” Oye main dasadanh haan ki hoya howega. Chor raat nu baarah baje dabe pair aaya howega jadd saare so rahe honge. Usnu pata hona gehna, paisa wagairah kithe paya howega. Usane saara maal gadhari ch bann ke lai jaan di koshish keeti honi. Ehne ch baapu paani peen waste uthaya hona aur khadka hoya howega.”
“Pher usane daudhan di koshish keeti honi. Pehale oh darwaaze di taraf daudhya hona. Pher usnu yaad aaya howega ke darwaaze de kol tanh bebe sutti payi si aur awaaz sun ke uthh gayi howegi. Pher oh kandh (wall) de paase daudhya howega.”
“Kandh uchchi si ate gadhari (bundle) bhaari hona. Usnu hun faisla karna si ke chhlaang maar ke nikal jaawe yaa gadhri (bundle) de naal fadyaa jaaye.”
This was such an absorbing story that at this point they all asked Jagga, “Pher ki hoya howega, Jaggeya?”
And Jagga said, “Hona ki si. Iss hafda thafdi ch gadhri (bundle) andar reh gayi….AUR MAIN BAAHAR”.
Continue laughing with the Punjabis; more to follow in subsequent posts.
I am a Punjabi Sikh by birth; my dad’s side of the family being from the village in Ropar (now Rupnagar) district of Punjab, and my mother’s side of people from village Urapur near Nawanshaher in Punjab.
From the time I was small, I have been exposed to Punjabi humour. About a year ago, I have started a group on Facebook to promote Punjabi humour. The group is called ‘Laugh With The Punjabis’. At the time of writing it has nearly 12000 members.
Why Punjabi jokes and humour? Punjabis are the only people who can not only sportively take a joke on themselves, but, can be expected to tell you two jokes about themselves for every one cracked by you. The community is now counted amongst the most progressive and generous communities in the world.
You can always join the group (it is free to men and women, boys and girls of all communities, regions, age and nationalities. I have ensured that none of the humour there is directed against any people. And, you don’t laugh at the Punjabis but laugh with the Punjabis.
You have already read seven old-time jokes with the flavour of Punjab in ‘Laugh With The Punjabis – Part I’. These are the jokes recounted by me in the group that I am nostalgic about. I used to hear them in my childhood and boyhood days.
Lets continue with the old-time jokes.
Old Time Joke #8, Flavour of Punjab
This was told to me by Commodore Sukhjinder Singh, who retired as JAG (Navy) (that is, Judge Advocate General, Navy)
One day we were sitting in the Angre Wardroom and I asked him how did he become a lawyer. He explained:
“I had a good friend in Patiala. When I grew up and finished schooling, one day I was talking to him as to what should I become; when he suddenly told me:
Oye Sukhjinder tu Vakeel ban jaa yaar.
I asked him why and he replied:
Oye yaar main ik murder karan di soch reha haan!”
Kaun kehnda hai Punjabi door-darshi nahin hunde?
Old Time Joke #9, Flavour of Punjab
There was a Kissan Fair going on near Phillaur. Our man Ujjagar Singh from my village Urapur went to see the fair with his family. The greatest attraction for the farmers was their versatile stud bull (Chohtta). But, to see the bull one had to buy tickets.
Ujjagar Singh went to the ticket counter and asked for 26 tickets for himself and his family.
Ticket Window te Janaani: Praaji tussi aithe khado; Assin chohtte (stud bull) nu lai ke aande haan thuayanoo dekhan layi.
Old Time Joke #10 – Flavour of Punjab
Banta was admitted in the hospital for broken limbs and several other injuries. The doctor asked him what happened?
Banta: Hoeya kuchh nahin ji. Main chhatt te chadiya si koi kamm karan layi. Uthe mainu Sante daa joke samajh aa gaya jehda usane chaar din pehale sunaaya si.
Old Time Joke #11 – Flavour of Punjab
Santu was guiding a buffalo (majhh) into the school on a chain (sangal). It had the letters E-S-S-A-Y written on it on either side in white chalk.
Angry English teacher demanded to know what was it?
Santu: Madam ji tussi keha si Cow (gaan) te essay likh ke leyaayo. Saade pind ch ik bhi gaan nahin hai ji. Main majhh te likh ke le aaya. Theek hai naa ji spelling?
Old Time Joke #12, Flavour of Punjab
You already know that you can’t find a Sikh beggar. This one is about Sardar Ujjagar Singh Sekhon, a Jatt Sikh and it is just a made-up joke to bring out the comedy in a most unlikely situation of a Sikh begging.
In 1971 War, his entire family was killed and he lost his legs. He was dying of abject poverty and neglect and then someone suggested to him that since in any case he was dying there was no harm in begging.
So USS took out his best dress and turle waali pugg and went to the first house on his crutches and knocked at the door.
A woman opened the door and asked, “Tussi kaun ho ji?”
USS getting angry, “Mayi, dekh nahin rehi main mangta haan? Jaa kuchh khaan layi lai aa.”
Woman (taken aback): Khaan nu tanh kuchh hai nahin ji.
USS: Pher kuchh paisa gehna lata de de.
Woman: Oh bhi nahin hai ji.
USS: Sheesha tanh hai ke nahin?
Woman: Haan ji, oh tanh haiga.
Ujjagar Singh Sekhon: Jaa pher sheesha lai aa, main muchhan nu taa tanh de lawan.
Old Time Joke #13, Flavour of Punjab
From our village in Urapur, Kartar Singh went on a world tour during those days when it was not so common to go abroad.
On his return he sat under the peepal tree on a manji and related his experiences: “O ji chaar di main London reha, chaar din Paris, chaar din Tokyo, chaar din New York…..”
Ten year old school boy impressed, “Chachaji thuaada tanh Geography daa bada knowledge hovega.”
Kartar Singh, “Mainu yaad hai char din uthe bhi reha.”
Old Time Joke #14, Flavour of Punjab
Munda: Chal Jaan, picture dekhan chaliye. Pichhli seats te baithange.
Kudi: Je pichhali seats diyan tiktan naa miliyan pher?
Munda: Pher picture dekh lawaange!
Old Time Joke #15, Flavour of Punjab
Santa and another man were arguing. Santa tried to be reasonable but the other was adamant.
Finally, Santa lost his shirt and shouted: Oye tu sambhal jaa nahin tanh main tere 34 de 34 dand bhan ke hath ch fada dwaanga.
Another man nearby corrected Santa: Per paaji dand tanh sirf 32 hunde ne.
Santa: Mainu pehle pata si tu bhi bolenga; main tere bhi do gin laye hoye ne.
Old Time Joke #16, Flavour of Punjab
I saw this happening!
An old man was going down the slope in Ludhiana and rammed his bicycle into a girl. Both fell, dusted their clothes and got up.
Girl: Main keha bajurgo thoda dekh ke chalayo cycle. Sharm nahin aandi thuanu; ehni thuadi daadhi aayi hoi hai?
Old Man: O beebe, daadhi hai, brake thodi hai. Meri tanh brake fail hoi hai.
Old Time Joke # 17, Flavour of Punjab
Another Actual Incident in Ludhiana
My cousin (wadde masiji da chhota munda) MP Singh and I were walking back home after seeing a movie. We saw a massive fight going on in which several men were involved.
MP was excited and told me: Chal aapan bhi kutt katayi kariye.
Shocked, I asked him: Per Mohinder saadi ehna naal ki dushmani hai?
MP: Dushmani tanh koi nahin per eddan da mauka pher pata nahin kadon milega?
Continue laughing with the Punjabis; more to follow in subsequent posts.
I am a Punjabi Sikh by birth; my dad’s side of the family being from the village in Ropar (now Rupnagar) district of Punjab, and my mother’s side of people from village Urapur near Nawanshaher in Punjab.
From the time I was small, I have been exposed to Punjabi humour. About a year ago, I have started a group on Facebook to promote Punjabi humour. The group is called ‘Laugh With The Punjabis’. At the time of writing it has nearly 12000 members.
Why Punjabi jokes and humour? Punjabis are the only people who can not only sportively take a joke on themselves, but, can be expected to tell you two jokes about themselves for every one cracked by you. The community is now counted amongst the most progressive and generous communities in the world.
You can always join the group (it is free to men and women, boys and girls of all communities, regions, age and nationalities. I have ensured that none of the humour there is directed against any people. And, you don’t laugh at the Punjabis but laugh with the Punjabis.
Below, and in a series of blog-posts, I am bringing out the jokes related by me in the group that I am nostalgic about. I used to hear them in my childhood and boyhood days.
Before we begin, here is:
AN INVITATION TO MADNESS:
Join Laugh With The Punjabis (LWTP)
Ped de neeche khade hoke dekho kinne amb ne,
LWTP join karke dekho kinne ithe bumb ne!
LTTE Sri Lanka ch khatam ho gayi, barbaad ho gayi,
LWTP India ch shuru ho gayi, aabaad ho gayi.
Dono hi failaande ne, bharpoor terror,
Ik by design, ik simply by error.
Ikko eh group hai, jithe saare ne leader,
Saare post paayun waale, bahut kam ne reader.
Posts ehna di dekh ke, hairaan haan main,
Gussa ehna da dekh ke, preshaan haan main.
Phir sochada haan, dost ne, humsuffer ne,
Mere tanh paagalpan ch, ehi tanh buffer ne.
Ehi group join karo, ban jaayo saade beli,
Agli transfer thuaadi, howegi Agra ya Bareilly.
Enjoy.
Old Time Joke #1 – Flavour of Punjab
Punjab Mail arrived at the station and it was so full that people were sticking out of windows and doors like bees from a hive.
Sardar Ujjagar Singh from my village was travelling to the city with his peepa of desi ghee. He somehow forced his way into the general compartment and the train started. The 15 kgs tin of the Ghee was getting into everybody’s way and was turning out to be a nuisance.
So, SUS took it, tied a piece of his tamba (dhoti) to the handle and tied the other end to a chain hanging in the compartment.
This brought the train to a screeching halt and the Guard and his team came to investigate. They found the peepa hanging from the chain.
Guard said: Ai dekho is peepe ne gaddi roki hai.
Sardar Ujjagar Singh: Dekhya, desi gheo di taaqat!
Old Time Joke #2 – Flavour of Punjab
From my village Urapur in Jalandhar district (between Ludhiana and Nawanshahr), there are two ways to go to the nearest city Nawanshahr: one is via Garcha and the other is via Bohara (Bahara); the road bifurcating after Aur.
One day, one of our fellow villagers stopped at a friend’s place in Garcha. They showered on him the traditional Punjabi hospitality but they were soon to find out that their friend from our village was made of sterner stuff. He polished off 25 to 30 roti, all their dal, sabji and kheer. Finally, after early dinner, the family sat with our man around in the vehda and started gup-shup.
They asked him about the purpose of his visit to Nawanshahr.
Our man said: Daakter ji nu milana hai.
Garcha Friend: Oye tainu ki problem hai?
Our man: Daakter ji nu dasnaa hai ke mainu bhukh nahin lagadi.
Garcha Friend’s Wohti (wife) cutting in: Waapas jaandi baar tussi Bohara ho ke jaayo, oh short-cut hai.
Old Time Joke #3 – Flavour of Punjab
Santa Singh, the Lion of Punjab, landed in New York in 1954, and there was a competition going on there to see who would be the bravest to jump from the tallest building into the swimming pool below.
Santa’s friends fielded him as the bravest; the most daring.
This was going to be the most stupendous feat and there were media personnel giving live commentary:
“Ladies and gentlemen; this is going to be a feat unequalled in the annals of history. And here we see now Santa Singh from Punjab in India reaching on top of this 100 story building, waving nonchalantly to the crowds below and, …. what is this? He has decided to jump with his full clothes on….what a brave and courageous man he is from the land of the braves…..and with a great Chhpaak, he lands into the pool…..wait, lets approach him and ask him his first reaction: ‘Santa ji; you are the bravest of the brave….please tell us how do you feel after accomplishing the world’s most daring act?'”
Santa: Oh tanh ji main baad ch dasaanga; pehale eh dasso mainu dhakka kinne ditta si?
Old Time Joke #4, Flavour of Punjab
Dasaunda Singh fought elections, won, and his party won majority. Dasaunda was made the Chief Minister of Punjab.
However, being a pind wala (villager), his people guided him to be suspicious of all around him lest they should take him for a ride. “Jithe tainu shaq howe, uthe puchh layin ki ho rehya hai.”
Fortified with this knowledge, he started next day morning for the Assembly by his driver driven Ambassador. (Please remember that during those days the car gears used to make a lot of noise).
As the car started, Dasaunda heard a lot of noise and asked the driver with alarm, “Oye ki kar rehan hain?”
Driver: “Sarkar gear change kar reha haan.”
Dasaunda Singh (Remembering the advice his cronies gave him): “Haraamzaade, mere saamne saamne gear change kar reha hain; jadd main nahin hovenga tanh tu gaddi hi change kar dawenga.”
Old Time Joke #5, Flavour of Punjab
Dasaunda Singh plane chadan lagga tanh Air Hostess ne dekhiya ke aisle ch kaafi bheedh hai aur kehiya, “Wait, Sir.”
Dasaunda Singh: Oh madam, huni agge 110 kilo di aurat gayi, usnu tanh tussi weight nahin puchhya. Asin 70 kilo de haan, saada tussi weight puchhi ja rahi ho.
Old Time Joke #6 – Flavour of Punjab
During olden days, a plane had as passengers an American, an Arab, Santa, a lady and her small 7 years old boy.
The plane engine developed trouble and the pilot announced that they may have to jump out, one by one. They noticed that there were only four parachutes for five of them.
When the first call came from the pilot, the American was the first to volunteer; he grabbed a parachute and jumped out saying, “Christ is the greatest.”
At the next call, Santa grabbed another parachute and jumped out saying, “Waheguru tonh wadda koi nahin.”
At the third call, the Arab jumped out saying, “Allah O’ Akbar.”
At the next call, the Pilot announced that the plane had to be abandoned. The mother told her child, “Beta, maine to zindagi dekh rakhi hai; toone abhi shuru ki hai. Tu baaki bacha parachute le aur kood jaa.”
Beta: “Nahin mummy; hum dono ke liye parachute hain kyonki Santa uncle mera basta le ke hi kood gaye the.”
Old Time Joke #7 – Flavour of Punjab
A farmer in our village Urapur near Nawanshahr was accused in the court for having stolen his neighbour’s hens.
He commissioned a lawyer to defend him. The lawyer was a smart-aleck and soon the farmer was acquitted.
I was present in the court to witness this drama (though I was a boy at that time)
Judge: Thuayanoo baa izzat bari keeta jaanda hai.
Farmer (with folded hands, not sure what it meant): Judge saab murgiyan rakh lawaan ke waapas deniya hun?
Continue laughing with the Punjabis; more to follow in subsequent posts.
However big or small we are, whether in the armed forces or not, we have a fascination for foreigners, especially Americans (Read: ‘Is America The Perfect World That We Imagine?’). We Indians may be as far from the American way of life as we can get, but, if we have to give any really good example of humour in the armed forces, we turn to foreigners and especially the Yanks.
I have a group on humour in the Indian armed forces named ‘Humour In And Out Of Uniform’. Take this group for example. I don’t know whether an American Facebook group on Humour In Uniform has even a remote mention of anything Indian (unless it is to show us in a pejorative way) but, we relentlessly put up posts, cartoons, pictures, poems here that show their soldiers, sailors and airmen as the most sensitive fathers, exceedingly respected citizens, braves and perfect in every way; and of course very witty. I started the group nearly two years ago and I have yet to see an equivalent picture of excellent ‘humour’ in the Indian armed forces, of say, a jawan hugging his daughter whilst proceeding to battle the terrorists.
A rare cartoon by RK Laxman depicting the valour of the Indian Jawan
Our fascination takes another shape, ie, to think of their armed forces as supremely powerful and professional. Take this anecdote that has been put up here: ‘A US SEAL is being interviewed on the television. The anchor after observing that they have conducted operations in various countries comments, “So, then you must be knowing a number of foreign languages.” And the SEAL replies, “Ma’am, we don’t go there to talk.”’ Ah, what business-like approach!
Is it simply because we imagine the Americans to be what we ain’t? Or is it because cut and paste of American humour is easily available?
No, I don’t think so. When we had just joined the Navy, the Internet and cut-and-paste were not there. And yet we used to relate the apocryphal incident of our sea-going tug Hathi challenging the USS Enterprise on flashing light, “Which ship? Where bound?” and Enterprise responding with, “I am US Naval Ship Enterprise; and who are you?” When Hathi replied, “I am Indian Naval Ship Hathi”, Enterprise reportedly chuckled and flashed back, “Don’t be funny.” And we were amused to hear of the incident.
Our fascination for foreigners knows no bounds. It is another matter that the 1971 War’s East Pakistan operations by the Indian armed forces are being taught in the war colleges of the West as the finest examples of planning and conduct of war. But, we somehow imagine that the goras know and do things better.
A cartoon regarding Indian Navy’s highly successful anti-piracy operations (Cartoon courtesy: toonwala.blogspot.com)
When I was commanding a missile vessel Vipul, the Local Flotilla was hosting three French ships visiting Mumbai under the command of ALINDIEN, a French naval acronym designing the admiral in charge of the maritime zone of the Indian Ocean, and of the French forces there. Besides other social interactions, it is customary to invite them to play games with our teams.
Now, we have divided games into what we call as troop games such as hockey, football, volleyball and even cricket. But, we do look at games like Golf, Squash-racquets and Lawn Tennis as purely officers’ sports. You don’t have golf courses, for example, in our services where jawans can play.
So, when we invited the French ships to play Golf, Lawn Tennis and Squash Racquets with us, we took it for granted that they would be sending their officers only. In the two venues: US Club Golf Course and IMSC we had arranged for our own officers to have high tea with them. Imagine our discomfiture when for all these “officer-oriented games”, sailors from the French ships landed up and played with our officers in those venues whereat our own sailors are never permitted.
Bending over backwards for the foreigners, including in HIAOOU, keeps our spines erect. I finally told the members of HIAOOU to keep up the good work; the best ten posts eulogizing the Americans and their humour would get free trips (all expenses paid) to the perfect world that we imagine.
Even after this, it is difficult to keep the Indians, ie, us, not to think of putting up posts concerning humour in the foreign armed forces but to concentrate on the Indian armed forces
Not many of our people realise that Google, arguably hand in glove with CIA to spy on foreigners including Indians (as revealed by Edward Snowden), has very little to offer on anything good about the Indian armed forces; if you want to see images of the impressive International Fleet Review conducted by the Indian Navy in 2001 in Mumbai, you would hardly see any pictures. However, if you Google mishap on INS Sindhuratna that eventually led to the Indian Navy Chief resigning, every little aspect of that mishap has been documented.
Cartoon depicting the IFR 2001 at Mumbai (Courtesy: www.amul.com)
I am, however, determined to keep my group Humour In And Out Of Uniform reflecting the best of the humour in the Indian armed forces despite the carpet bombing by foreigner oriented members.
On Thursday, the 8th of May 14, our first-born Arjun S Ravi weds Samira Kanwar, the first-born of Asha and Atul Kanwar. This photo-essay traces Arjun and Samira’s life leading up to the wedding. Here is their Wedding Invite:
Let me first explain the name ‘Loveapalooza‘ to you. It has been derived from ‘Lollapalooza’, that is a very well attended “annual music festival featuring popular alternative rock, heavy metal, punk rock and hip hop bands, dance and comedy performances, and craft booths.”
You see, Arjun and Sam (Samira) both are into music in a huge way. They are both directors in the music company called OML (Only Much Louder); Sam looks after the television content through a company under OML banner called Babble Fish Productions. Arjun looks after the digital content on the portals NH7 and Indiecision.
Let me now begin their story:
Early Childhood
Arjun, our elder son, was born on 14th of May in 1984. All children are god sent. However, Arjun was special since he was born two weeks after my father’s tragic death and all of us, especially my mom (his dadi (paternal grandmother)) felt that he was sent to wipe away our tears. And he did and still does. He was a joy to hold and to watch growing up:
My mom (his dadi) holding Arjun as a gift from God:
Lyn, always so beautiful, in ecstasy to hold “such a wonderful bundle of joy”:
During his early childhood, we shuttled between Mumbai and Kandaghat in Shimla Hills and then for the next three years until we went for my Staff Course in Wellington (Nilgiris) in May 1990, we were in New Delhi. This included the six months period between January and June 1988 when I was on deputation to Seville in Spain and the family (by this time our younger son Arun was born on the 22nd of Dec 1986 in Mumbai when I and my ship INS Ganga were away to Andaman & Nicobar islands with Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi and his wife Sonia Gandhi) shifted with my mother in Kandaghat.
There was nothing that he did that was not refreshingly appealing to people all around him. He had a natural propensity to love all animals and befriended cats and dogs at a very early stage. A few years back, he found that a bitch had littered under the stairs leading to his office of the JAM magazine. He found that one of the pups was not just small and weak but unable to cope up. He brought the pup home and throughout the night tended to it with the advice being received on phone by an NGO looking after the welfare of the stray dogs. He didn’t sleep at all. In the morning, he was in tears when the pup died.
Most of his toys were shaped like petsHe’d have pets even in his cot cum play-penLooking good and cute even in a trash box
He was at home with everything; as the picture above shows, even in a trash-box. The moment he learnt to crawl, he was everywhere, helping my mom and all of us with our work:
Frequent travels from Bombay to Kandaghat didn’t keep him away from looking cute and relaxed:
And then, he learnt to stand on his two feet and walk around. Here is a picture of the first step he ever did! Lyn and I have, at least one picture of all his firsts except one; the first word he uttered was ‘Goo”, all by himself. We called over friends to share with them the exciting news that Arjun spoke. Over drinks, they asked us to share with them the word and when we told them, they stared at us in amazement. It was amazing indeed.
Now that he learnt to walk, it was difficult to keep him in his play-pen:
Or, for that matter, in his pram:
Samira
She is the first-born of Asha and Atul Kanwar; born on the American Independence Day: the 4th of July. It was certainly the most beautiful thing that ever happened to Asha and Atul. Holding the gift of their love close to them was like their most ardent dream come true. Here is Asha, as in Donald Peer’s song: “Looking proud as a queen as she carried” Samira:
The sheer joy of holding her whilst the fawning husband looked on is something that is unforgettable for Asha. As far as Samira is concerned, she knows that the happiness, warmth and confidence of being in her parents’ arms can never be replaced by any other experience. Just about two years back she wrote on Facebook on a picture of Arjun: ‘My boy-friend bestest‘. However, a bird told us that until she met Arjun, she didn’t have any boy-friends and her parents and later her sister were her complete world.
Samira’s total countenance is that of being at perfect ease and trust with the rest of the world. She has a natural sense of humour. Here is one of her typical comments made with her characteristic tinkle: “My parents decided to move abroad to the Gulf to save a lakh. They decided that once they did that, they’d move back to India – it’s now been 33 years and they’re still trying to save that one Lakh”.
Samira or Sam as she is known, moved to Dubai (where Atul got his first job as a financier in a construction company. Says Sam, “Numbers are his friend unlike they are to me or my sister”) with her parents from Bombay when she was three. By that time, Asha and Atul’s love had produced another miracle that they named Anjali. Here is Asha having her hands full with doubled joys:
Sam recalls, “My sister was the cutest baby in the world.” Lyn and I, however, with the pride born out of our immense good fortune in about to have a very pretty and affectionate daughter, (exactly how Asha and Atul would gain a son in Arjun), feel that no one can be more cute than Sam. We feel that she is still a baby and she is likely to keep her baby looks for at least a few more decades! See if you can make one baby from the other in the following picture:
Growing Up
Arjun
Arjun became such an important part of our lives that we just couldn’t leave him at any time (I was commissioned in the Indian Navy in Jul 1975 and I was a Lieutenant Commander when he was born). A few pictures of his being with us:
Lyn spent hours looking at him and admiring him:
I took him everywhere with me, my Yezdi KEE 438 was the first vehicle he rode:
My mother even took him to the Gurudwara in our house for her prayers and reading of the Guru Granth Sahib:
Here is Arjun on his First Birthday; the cake had to be made in the shape of a ship since I was posted on one at that time:
And then, in Dec 1986, Arun was born. Both Arjun and Arun formed a very loving team and got along famously.
Their love and comfort level with each other was such that once after a quarrel in the daytime, when they went to sleep, in mock estrangement, Arun complained to us that he couldn’t go to sleep since Arjun was not holding his hand!
Here are some more pictures of Arjun’s childhood, having Arun as his constant companion:
During their first visit to America:
At home in Kandaghat, Arun still trying to gain confidence in the cycle-riding skills of his elder brother, Arjun.
Now this is really funny. During those days when an overseas (ISD) call used to cost a bomb, Arjun and Arun learnt how to dial the various codes and numbers and connected to my brother JP Singh in the USA:
Holding hands and going to sleep never left them, even when they were on their first overseas trip, to USA:
Picnics were part of our life and during these outings, Arjun and Arun found ways and means to amuse themselves:
During their visit to the Disney Land in California:
Both with my brother, studying in Campion School in Mumbai:
At a very very young age, Arjun became very fond of music. Here is the first picture of his enjoying music; there was no looking back after that:
After Arun was born, Arjun also gave signs of doing things by himself rather than asking me or even Lyn how to (Please also read: ‘Diminishing Dad’):
If he is seen above trying to put a knot on a neck-tie, here he is trying to polish shoes:
All in all, I feel Arjun had a very healthy, happy and interesting childhood. Did that prepare him for life and its challenges? I would think so. If there is one word in which I can describe him, then the word is ‘gentleman’. When he was studying in the Timpany School in Vizag, as a class monitor, he took his job so seriously that when the school bus from Naval Base didn’t report, he put all the kids in a few auto-rickshaws, and then left them one by one in their houses; especially the girls. Here is a picture of Arjun in the Holy Innocents School in Wellington (Nilgiris) whereat I was undergoing Staff Course at DSSC. He was all of six years old:
We moved to Kochi when he was in the 12th standard. Normally, kids should do their schooling in classes 11th and 12th from the same school for the Board (CBSE or ICSE) exams. But, it was not to be in Arjun’s case because of the Navy’s system of postings. Ostensibly he used to listen to music and play cricket; however, when the board results were announced (on the net), Lyn and I were pleasantly surprised to see him pass out with nearly 93 per cent marks (he actually stood first in all the Naval Public Schools (now re-christened as Naval Children’s Schools) in his (commerce) stream.
By this time, in the year 1998, there was another addition to our family; our darling dog Roger who was born on the 3rd of July that year. Roger was with me in a remote locality called INS Kattabomman (near Tirunelvelli in Tamilnadu) and the rest of the family missed seeing him as a puppy. On their visit to Kattbomman, here is how Roger made a place for himself in the family:
Curiously, whilst doing stunningly well in studies (Roger used to give Arjun company during his late night studies), he took part in debates and declamations and plays. One of these, during that period, was directed by me: a play titled Dear Charles. He used to be present during the rehearsals of the play in the US Club. Whenever anyone forgot their dialogues, Arjun used to help them without even looking at the script. Finally, we all felt that he could be given a role. He did superbly as Bruno, Denise’s son and won a huge applause for his performance. Then, he acted as Lieutenant Sanjay, the hero, in my adaptation of Molière’s Baker’s Muddle. I called it ‘Suddenly in the Park’. This was the first play presented in Navy’s Mulla auditorium in NOFRA, Colaba. Lastly, he acted in another play that I directed in the same auditorium: The Black Comedy; the play was presented for the farewell visit of the Chief of the Naval Staff Admiral Arun Prakash to Mumbai. Here is Arjun as the rich baron Georg Bamberger:
Arjun joined St Xavier’s in Mumbai for his graduation in the year 2001 and thereafter worked for a magazine called JAM (Just another Magazine) whilst preparing for his CAT exam. He went to MICA (Mudra Institute of Communications, Ahmedabad) for his MBA in 2005 and graduated from there in 2007. He worked for Mudra for sometime before getting back as an Editor for JAM. By this time it was clear to him that his calling was music. He started a popular musical portal called Indiecision. He joined his present company OML (Only Much Louder) and started another music portal named NH7 (named after India’s longest highway) and merged Indiecision into it. The picture below shows Arjun, Anshul and Sachin giving a performance of their band ‘The Unlike No One’s’ at MICA:
At this juncture, the Ravi family looked like this and we waited for our would-be daughter to enter our lives:
Samira
Sam moved to Dubai with her parents when she was three. After that, they moved to Muscat and her parents are still there though her mother divides time between Muscat and Mumbai (Bandra, where they have a house). Sam recalls that after Anjali was born, one day she fed her potato chips even though Anjali had no teeth. The reason? Anjali looked at Sam eating chips and Sam took pity on her! The result? Well, potato chips are now a favourite with Anjali. That she nearly choked on the chips is not remembered by both Anjali and Sam.
Much like Arjun and Arun, Sam and Anjali made a great and almost inseparable pair:
Here is another adorable picture of the two (Please notice that holding hands is common between Anjali & Sam, and Arun & Arjun:
Sam did her schooling from the Indian School, Muscat until she became sweet sixteen. After this, she had to return to Mumbai since she wasn’t interested in either Commerce or Science streams and wanted to pursue Arts. She sat through the boring commerce classes in Indian School at Muscat and decided that she wasn’t cut out for Commerce.
Recalls Sam fondly, “We had a wonderful school life, growing up in Muscat. My mom is a closet event manager. She has amazing organizational skills and she’d organize games and we even had a club for kids where we’d meet up and learn, cook, play sports.” Amazing indeed.
As a girl happy with others and also happy by herself:
Love for dogs is something that she shares with Arjun. In Muscat, she enjoyed the company of not one but three dogs – Timmy, Scamp and Sheeba. Even now they have dogs in their house in Muscat: Oscar and Misha.
She then moved to Bombay and studied in Sophia College for 5 years (FYJC – TYBA). She was in the hostel for the first 2.5 years and made a lot of close friends. This is what she feels about her life in Bombay: “I became a lot bolder in college. I started to speak out and gain confidence. Bombay helped me come out of my shell a lot.”
She ended up being Student Body President in her final year of college and she majored in English Literature.
She did a post-graduate diploma course in Sophia Polytechnic in Mass Communications after which she began working in advertising film production.
After a few years in advertising, she realized she wasn’t happy so she moved to television. She visited Europe during this period: Italy, Germany and Turkey and talked with her camera. Here she is at the Trevi Fountain in Rome tossing the coin to ensure she visits again:
And then, after some years, she joined OML and she has been a part of it since 2006. In her own words, “I’ve been very happy working with like-minded people where we share a common goal of supporting the music and alternative culture scene by doing things we’re good at. (in my case making films!)”
Meanwhile last year, her sister Anjali got married to Avinash – yes younger sister got married before her – but only by a year.
Their dog Biscuit is the queen in their lives:
All in all Samira (Sam) is a love-child who had a very happy, loving, and interesting childhood and growing up. Here is what the Kanwar family looked at this juncture, awaiting the arrival of another son in their family after Sam’s sister Anjali married Avinash:
Cupid Strikes
When love strikes, all you can do is bow your head and accept the best gift that God can give you. As it creeps over you and totally engulfs you, a realisation comes over you to tell you that you were wasting your time not being the object of your love. Sam and Arjun went over this in their own unique way whilst going through their separate lives with moments of togetherness thrown in here and there.
Once Arjun decided to quit Mudra and JAM, he was determined to devote his life to covering music scene in various publications including on his own portal Indiecision that was becoming increasingly more popular.
Even though the music scene in Mumbai was small, he hadn’t come across Sam. She was the head of a production house that made music videos for bands.
Arjun had seen her at gigs and other music related events but the first time he and Samira properly met and had a conversation was at the first edition of Baajaa Gaajaa in Pune, a festival hosted by Shubha Mudgal in February 2009. She had a stall there where she was telling people about her production house and the work they were doing.
At around the same time, Arjun came in touch with Misha and Ekadish, and Sam was a common friend of theirs. So they’d meet up at parties at Misha’s house in Bandra, and at gigs as well.
Says Arjun, “That’s when we really started to get to know each other better. I remember at Sam’s birthday that year, she had a party at her house. She had quite a bit to drink and she becomes really very adorable when she’s a bit tipsy. She wouldn’t let me leave her house and even hid my cellphone so I wouldn’t leave.”
He adds: “We went on many small dates – to movies, restaurants, etc and given how similar we both are as people, it was startling, in retrospect, that we didn’t get together sooner.”
“For the next few months, a lot of ‘will they’, ‘wont they’ happened as we got to know more and more about each other. It was quite obvious to everyone around us that we would probably end up together, but we were quite oblivious of it at the time. We both have very, very similar interests, almost scarily so, and even there’s a five-year age difference between us, we got along as if we’d known each other for years.”
“Then finally after many ups and downs we finally decided that we would be together. This was in May 2010. It was in December last year when we decided that we should get married.”
Sam visited our house in Ahilya building in Navy area in Colaba for the first time in 2009. After I retired in end Feb 2010 and we moved to our house in Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, Sam started visiting us with Arjun more regularly. That we were quite drawn to her can be made out from:
And we became a family together:
So much so that last year onwards we have a Whatsapp group appropriately named: Together As A Happy Family. Lyn and I looked forward to their visits, Bacardi Weekenders in Pune, and going out together:
With all this, what is in store for the future? Only this that the days of making music separately as in the following pictures are now over:
Now onwards, it has got to be: Loveapalooza, Arjun and Sam’s Lifetime Music Fest:
Congratulations Sam and Arjun, we await Loveapalooza and its editions year after year after year:
When I undertook to allow the armed forces to train me to become a good staff-officer (Read Learning ‘The Ropes’ At Defence Services Staff College At Wellington, Nilgiris – Part I’ and ‘Part II’), I also took it upon myself to let go of all that used to keep me in high spirits. It was a tough decision but I was going to prove a point to me; which was that even though I was a proud member of fauj, Sikh religion and hailing from Punjab, I could do without the elixir of life. Suddenly from an irresponsible vagabond I stepped into the sober though somewhat sombre world of the nek aadmi.
Accolades started flowing in a-plenty. In addition, I also became the butt of many jokes. I sought refuge in the friendship of SK Sharma, an Air Electric officer and a Brahmin with a keen sense of humour.
Do you remember the Catch 22 logic of Yossarian’s friend Orr who had a bucktoothed smile due to crab apples in his cheeks? He used to carry rubber balls in his hands. So when anyone teased him about having crab apples in his cheeks, he used to tell them that he had rubber balls and they were not in his cheeks but in his hands! Well I tried the same logic for my perennial sobriety, through my friendship with SK Sharma. Whenever, anyone told me that I was wonky, I used to point towards SK Sharma and say that whereas I had recently become a teetotaller SKS had been so from the time of his being at his mother’s knee onwards. In this ingenious manner my friendship with SKS helped me ward off many barbs targeted at me.
Our friendship had just begun to bloom when the blow stuck us. Sharma and I used to go by our four-wheelers (cars) anywhere and everywhere and had sold off our two wheelers (scooters and mobikes). Since we didn’t indulge, we had the spare money for the fuel and we had just begun to enjoy ourselves in our combined world of puritanism. The blow that stuck us was that the Government of India, without consulting SK and I, suddenly raised the petrol prices from Rupees 10.50 a litre (in Tamilnadu) to Rupees 13.25 – an almost 30 per cent increase.
The next evening, since it was his turn, I waited for SK to pick me up from my house in Castle Quarters to go to WGC (Wellington Gymkhana Club) to play billiards. He arrived at the appointed hour but instead of chuckles of laughter and sunniness that used to herald his arrival, I noticed that he was competing with an Egyptian mummy for years of lifelessness. I got into the front left seat of his car and we arrived at the club. Nothing was said between us since the news had killed our enthusiasm almost totally. He played the first shot and I noticed that he offered me an easy in-off followed by red potting and promise of many other geometric possibilities.
I applied sufficient chalk to the tip of my cue and took my stance for what I hoped would be a long break. And it is precisely at this time that SK chose to break the agonising silence of that evening.
“Have you heard the bad news Sir?” he asked.
“Yes” I replied icily so as to cap all further conversation until I had completed my break of at least 30 points.
“I am afraid” he continued with determination, “It is going to affect us the most.”
I had no choice but to break my stance as the Tsunami was almost at my door-step. I put the handling end of the cue down and my look asked him to explain.
“Well Sir” he explained, “Both of us don’t smoke, drink or have any such vices. In order to offset the increased cost of petrol, all that the drinkers, for example, have to do is to cut down an equivalent amount of their drinking and they land up with the same expenditure as they used to incur earlier. You and I have no such cushion.”
I was immediately reminded of a dialogue from a Smita Patil movie that went like this: “Nangi kyaa dhoye kyaa nichode?” (A poor naked woman doesn’t have enough to wash and squeeze out)
We quickly finished the game that SK once again won easily. He dropped me back home and I changed and drove my own car back to WGC. Ordering a series of drinks at the bar had become for me a matter of life and death. A Brahmin with his simple wit had put an end to my short-lived abstinence; I was already preparing to offset the next fuel price hike.
The bar where I drowned my sorrows caused by fuel price hike (Courtesy: wellingtongymkhanagolfclub.golfgaga.com)
By the time I left DSSC I had adequately prepared to offset fuel price hikes for the next decade or so!
The title doesn’t seem to go well with the constant struggle that the armed forces seem to be having for obtaining adequate remuneration for the serving and retired personnel. Curiously, this intense – and at times, bitter – struggle is not with the government but with another arm under the government (just like the armed forces) called bureaucracy. Bureaucracy or babugiri has relentlessly endeavoured to keep the armed forces on a tight leash and is often seen fighting tooth and nail anything given to the faujis as just job satisfaction.
This article, however, is not about the babus’ penchant for “saving public money” by suggesting re-usable condoms. You can’t get the better of them by writing articles or returning your medals at rallies at Jantar Mantar in New Delhi. They know every Jantar and Mantar for keeping the armed forces essaying to get out from the maze they have put them in.
Admiral SM Nanda, the CNS with Mrs Indira Gandhi, the PM (direct access and not through the babus!)
This article, on the other hand, is about how rich the armed forces personnel were. That they were and are rich in commitment, valour, values and patriotism is already an established fact with very few exceptions. This article is about their richness in money terms. I have taken me and family as test case since no officer in the armed forces would be as poor as I was when I served the armed forces of this great country.
Why did I choose to be poor? I had my anakh (Punjabi word meaning Pride or Honour) as a young man born in a Punjabi family wherein they would do anything to keep their anakh. I had seen my father exhibiting it in large measure when he married my mom. He won’t expect and accept a single paisa from anyone that included his parents and her parents. A self-made man, he boasted with loud guffaws that he was a king.
So, unconsciously, I followed his example, but went several steps ahead of him. As the train took me to the Naval Academy in Jun 1973, I decided that there won’t be a single occasion whence I would take anything in money or in kind from my parents. I was on my own and I became fiercely independent.
The Navy looked after all my needs. The highest pay that I got in the Navy was as a Midshipman, Acting Subaltern Lieutenant and then Lieutenant; that is all before the age of thirty. I could eat and drink merrily and have sufficient left over to see movies and buy me shirts from Charagh Din and other clothes from shops in Colaba; the kind I could never afford again during my remaining career in the Navy. What is more, we could afford to dine, once in a while, at restaurants like Delhi Durbar, Khyber, and in restaurants of Taj and Oberoi hotels. And then we had our clubs and messes that gave us a life-style that many were envious of.
We could also go abroad once in a while on ship visits and even whilst staying within the Custom regulations we could buy the latest in two-in-one music systems and cameras. Imported Canteen goods from ship-chandlers too gave us some social edge; imagine a girl being presented with Tosca perfume or Toblerone or Hershey’s chocolates during those days when not many in the civil-street could afford them.
Also, by better and more efficient use of the resources given to them, the armed forces’ messes looked plush, glamorous and could match the fare and atmosphere of five star hotels. The decorum and traditions in these messes would actually put them even beyond these hotels. On the occasions of Mess Nights, one felt like a king with the wives matching the deportment of royal families. I don’t remember many occasions when there was any lengthy and persistent talk about how poorly we were paid.
The average countrymen vied with one another to get a glimpse of the impeccably turned out men and women in uniform on the Republic Day at Rajpath. Those who had the privilege of having attended a naval function, for example, told of their experiences proudly in public fora and media.
A view of the RD Parade of 1951. Countrymen vying with one another to have a glimpse of the smartly turned out men in uniform (Pic courtesy: www.pinterest.com)
On special occasions like Navy Ball, the elite of the city vied with one another to be seen in such functions; Navy was a way of life that was looked up to. An old time video of a Navy Ball shows the best film-stars and personalities in Hindi film industry attending the Navy Ball: Mohammad Rafi, Raj Kapoor, Raj Kumar, Rajendra Kumar, Vyjayanthimala, Nutan etc.
The first “Navy Day” on December 04 was celebrated in 1972. On this Day when the Navy dedicated itself anew to the service of the nation, the Army Postal Service Corps (56 APO) brought out a Special Cover to commemorate the Navy Day on 4 December 1972.
The government had intended it to be so; so as to make the difficult, challenging and life-sacrificing profession of armed forces attractive for the youth of the country. It was an acknowledgement of the tough and risky lives that they led. The government voiced this in various fora and documents. No one had reckoned that the wily babu would not envy this life-style in the manner of the common countrymen; but, would like to bring it down to the level wherein armed forces personnel would have to beg and agitate for their rights and privileges.
PM Indira Gandhi with the crew of INS Vikrant, the ship that helped her win the 1971 War (Pic courtesy: Indian Express)
Gradually, armed forces men fell down to tenth or beyond choice of eligible women for marriage. The babu laughed smugly. Gradually, everyone wanted to become a babu; leaving the profession of arms for the desperate, third-class, and less than ordinary men and women. The babu patted himself on the back. Gradually, people seemed to forget that whilst we have the finest armed forces in the world, we also have one of world’s worst bureaucracy. The babu smiled with self-satisfaction. Gradually, the armed forces personnel returned their medals, sat on hunger-strikes, and were reduced to the dishonourable ways of the netas and the babus. The babu guffawed triumphantly and said, “Now, I have got them where I wanted them to be. They are as bad as the rest of us. I got fed up of listening to them being the saviours of the country.”
CHALTA HAI – MOHAN RAM-BHAROSE is Chalta Hai’s first attempt at movie making and is already being talked about as a potential Oscar winner. Here are some of the scenes that have already been shot (being an international movie, some of the dialogues are in English, whilst others are in Hindi; the ones which are in Punjabi have been deleted in order to avoid getting an ‘A’ Certificate for the movie):
Scene One: A warship has been wrecked and is seen going down in almost still waters (Sea State 1). The hero of the movie, a certain RR, (not to be confused with another Ram, eg, Raja Ram or with the expression “Ram Ram” (of ‘RR Satya Hai’ fame) is seen in sea-water clinging for dear life to a wooden grating along with his friend RS (Raavan Singh; he was christened as Ram Singh on birth, but, after he joined WATT, all the constructors led by one whose name has two Hindu gods strength, pronounced him as the most evil man on earth: Raavan).
RR (speaking from the memory of the most ‘intellectual’ books that he had read (written by René Goscinny and illustrated by Albert Uderzo): Shiver my timbers; what happened.
RS (as calmly as explaining A for Apple to a child): Our ship went down.
RR (Perplexed, similar to his hero Obelix): But, did we hit something?
RS: No.
RR (Seeking clarity): Did something hit us?
RS: No.
RR: (Getting that bolt from the blue): The Pakis? Jehadis? LeT? Al Qaeda? Indian Mujahideen? What then?
RS: (Furiously shaking his nut even though almost fully immersed in water) No, no, no, no….for Ram’s sake no. And don’t keep saying “What”; this Watt only got us into thick soup with all our friends. At last count it was 93 Likes, 1 Share and 46 obnoxious comments.
RR: (Losing his patience): But _____(Censored Being in Punjabi; in future: CBP) huaa kyaa?
RS: Nothing huaa Sir; the ship was as it is (Mohan) Ram bharose. Starts singing: “Yeh to hona hi thaa”.
Fadeout with gradually fading notes of the song Yeh to hona hi tha.
Scene Two: Shows an old man MR, wistfully remembering his best ship designs: paper-boats or kaagaz ki kashtiyan. This is the scene wherein the credits of the movie are flashed. The old man, in the background, is seen lowering some of his best ‘designs’ into the water. Gentle notes of Jagjit Singh’s ghazal accompany the credits:
Ye daulat bhi le lo, Ye shauhrat bhi le lo, Bhale chheen lo mujhase meri jawaani; Magar mujhako lauta do DND ka wo tenure Wo kaagaz ki kashti Wo baarish ka paani.
Scene Three: Shows MR sitting in his office in DND with a huge map of the world. A freshman constructor walks in.
FC: What is with this huge map of the world, Sir?
MR: I am planning the next indigenous design of a navy ship.
FC (Scratching his head, admittedly a great pastime with NCs): I don’t understand what has an indigenous design got to do with the world map?
MR: You are new to the constructor branch. We have to cull the indigenous design from as many foreign countries as we can visit.
FC: But Sir you just finished visiting dozens of countries from Iran to England to Russia; indeed, the number of countries that you have visited is much more than any ship designed by you in a lifetime would visit. Indeed, in later life, if someone were to start a Humour In Uniform group, you would have more than enough to regale them endlessly with your tales of, say, sitting in a plane in Iran full of chickens or being treated as a royal guest by a German company director. Why do you want to visit more?
MR: You will not make a good NC if you keep questioning the need to visit foreign countries extensively in search of indigenous design. In any case, the last two dozen countries that I visited were in connection with Leander – nay – Giri class of ships’ indigenous design. Now I have to go abroad to inculcate the indigenous design for modified Leander – er, Godavari class of ships. Remember, every time I go abroad we get a huge fillip for indigenous design effort.
FC: Now I get it; I too want to get into indigenous designs. I always wanted to visit Scandinavian countries.
Scene fades with FC singing: zara haule haule chalo MR ji; ham bhi peechhe hain tumhaare.
Scene Four: Commissioning ceremony of INS Ganga by PM Shri Rajiv Gandhi. Ceremony over, the commissioning CO is having a party on the quarterdeck. Both the Fleet Commander and the CO are Punjabis. Hence, some of the dialogues are CBP.
Fleet Cdr: I say Kailash, have you seen your ship’s side? It is in the pits.
KKK: I know Sir, such large scale pits were not there either in the British ships or Russian ships.
Fleet Cdr: I believe you have very large free spaces but weapon and sensor spaces are cramped.
KKK: Yes Sir. It is a ______(CBP) pity.
Fleet Cdr: And on the radar you paint louder than a carrier.
KKK: Yes Sir.
Fleet Cdr: Whose ______ (CBP) design is this?
KKK: I am not sure Sir; but, they call it Mohan Ram Bharose design.
Fleet Cdr: Strange name! Why can’t they sail on their own designed ships?
KKK: I think they are hardly ever in India to do that!
Scene fades with the notes of: Hey Rome Rome mein basane waale Ram….
Cut to last scene.
Last Scene: Opening time of a famous mobike peddling shop in Bengaluru. The owner, known by his initials ‘MR’ as most south Indians are known, is saying his prayers with dhoop and agarbatti at a sandal-wood garlanded huge picture of Rajnikant. His wife has arrived there carrying his tiffin with his breakfast.
Wife: Why do you keep praying with dhoop to Rajnikant’s picture?
MR: Because I have the same qualities as him; no one can even dream of beating me. I am fast on the draw. Indeed, I am the fastest like my idol RK.
Wife (Glancing at the morning newspaper): Have you seen the headlines today; another ship designed by you when you were in the Navy has gone down.
MR (Quick on the draw as RK): I have already analysed it as I did with others:
One, ships are manned by nincompoops; for a ship meant for 300, the AHs in NHQ put 600.
Two, my designed ships older than just a few days should be retired. My guarantee of the ships is only about a week; excluding Sunday, that is.
Three, do you think these _____s (Not CBP but still censored!) know how to operate the ships.
Wife: But, why did they sink?
MR (takes out his calculator and does extensive calculations of whose results he writes on the side-lines of the same paper carrying the news about the ship sinking): See here, my stability calculations still hold good. It should never have sunk.
Wife (Remembering something from her primary class Hindi books): Abhi to jyun kaa tyun, kunbaa dooba kyun?
MR: Search me.
The scene fades with MR having pooja thali in one hand and a brass ghanti in the other and singing the ‘hymn’: Rajnikanta fool tumhaare, mehken youn constructor ban ke…..
And his wife singing: Ram teri Ganga maili ho gayi….
The End
And then a voice over: Kahin naa jayiye meharbaan; Chalta Hai abhi aur baaki hai dost.
Chalta Hai is a group on the Facebook with the following Link:
[lineate][/lineate]Desh hamaara banega beeg power,[lineate][/lineate] Khushiyon ka ho jaayegi shower.[lineate][/lineate] Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Traffic mein ham rehte hain # One,[lineate][/lineate]Accidents for us is great fun;[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Ghar mein ham karte nahin kaam,[lineate][/lineate]Office mein to aaraam hi aaraam.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai…[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Trains and flights are never on time,[lineate][/lineate]To be honest and upright is a crime.[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai….[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Rishwat khori hai way of life,[lineate][/lineate]Moonh mein Ram Ram, bagal mein knife.[lineate][/lineate] Sab kuchh chalta hai, mere bhai,[lineate][/lineate]Sab kuchh chalta hai[lineate][/lineate]
Disclaimer: All characters in the above screen play are fictional and bear no resemblance to any person living or….well, living.
Three years back I wrote ‘Mumbai Rains’ in this blog and it continues to be very popular. Now, I bring you some of the side-effects of Mumbai Rains and traffic during the rains. One of my friends had put up this:
[lineate][/lineate]Foreigner: In Mumbai, do you drive to the left or the right?[lineate][/lineate]Mumbaiite: In Mumbai, we drive on what’s left of the roads.[lineate][/lineate]
(Courtesy: www.indianexpress.com)
Mumbai is a melting pot of cultures and languages. I came to know recently that ‘highway‘ is a Punjabi word, after all. When your vehicle goes over an unseen ditch or pothole (which happens in Mumbai quite often), you nurse injuries to yourselves and your vehicle and with every jump say in Punjabi: “Hai ve”! (O, my God)
Lets look at some peculiar scenes and situations caused by the havoc on roads as a result of Mumbai Rains.
I
Swayamvar
Deshpandes are looking for a husband for their elder daughter. She has finished her engineering in computer sciences and has landed a well deserved job at TCS. After her family gave the advertisement in the Matrimonial columns of several dailies, a few eligible boys have pressed their suits. The family has short-listed three of them: Ashok, Ganesh and Sunil. All three boys are also engineers and earning good salaries and from good families. Finally, it has to be Jyoti’s choice. She asks her brother to help. It comes out that since she has to spend the rest of her life with her husband, she wants to be sure (as any girl would) of the essential nature of her man. What if he curses and swears? What if he doesn’t have patience with her? What if he is utterly selfish? Her brother has the most pragmatic plan to find this out, “I shall drive with each one of them from Colaba to Borivali by car. At the end of the journeys, I shall have the answers for you.”
Modern day ‘swayamvar’, tougher than Arjuna shooting with arrow the eye of the fish and most effective way to separate men from boys.
II
Army Headquarters
During a presentation to the Chief, his Principal Staff Officers are in attendance. The subject is the purchase of the Tatra trucks, the controversy-ridden Tatra trucks.
[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I: Finally, the government has cleared the purchase of these ****ing trucks. It took some coaxing.[lineate][/lineate]The Chief: It always does. But, I guess your team needs to be congratulated for all the hard work put in.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I: Thank you, Sir[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General II: But, Sir, there is a problem. Now that General VK’s assertions have called in question the quality of these vehicles, we need to carry out a rigorous acceptance test-inspection.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General III: We have already prepared for this, Sir. Our engineers have designed an indigenous (stressing on the word so as to invite praise) testing terrain track for the inspections. It would cost only Rupees 5 Crores as compared to the imported track worth 20 Crores.[lineate][/lineate]The Chief: I think we can avoid the wasteful expenditure. Let the vehicles be received in Mumbai and test-drive on Mumbai roads during rains. If they can survive that, they can survive any terrain and conditions.[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General I to II (aside): Now why couldn’t we think of that?[lineate][/lineate]Lieutenant General II to I (aside): That’s why he is the Chief and not us.[lineate][/lineate]
III
Times Now’s Evening Top-Story
[lineate][/lineate]Arnab Boswami: This is the third case in the month when a woman in Mumbai has filed for divorce proceedings. She had been suspecting her husband of having an affair. She has been, therefore, timing her husband during his return journey from the office. The duration has been inexplicably (to her) on the increase and that confirmed her deep rooted suspicion that he has been spending time with the other woman, on the side. On the evening before filing the divorce proceedings, her husband spent all of five hours reaching back home. I have on the panel tonight Mister All-is-well Pigvijay Singh from Congress, Mrs. All-men-are-the-same Mamta Besharma, Chairperson of Women’s Commission in India, BJP spokesperson Arun Ketley and finally representative of Aam Aadmi Gharib Das. Let me first put this question to Pigvijay Singh; What is your government doing about this?[lineate][/lineate]PVS: The track record of our government on women’s issues is excellent. You may recall when Nirbhay died in Delhi, Manmohan Singh ji personally went to receive the dead body…[lineate][/lineate]Arnab (Cutting him short, as he always does): No, all this is only a façade. On an everyday basis women are still getting raped. Let me ask Mamta ji: Do you think this is the normal state or an exception that husbands reach back late from work?[lineate][/lineate]MB: This is on the increase, the traditional image of the Indian woman of being a housewife and being at the beck-and-call of her husband hasn’t changed much. We need to make strict laws to force men to return home on time and not to spend time with other women.[lineate][/lineate]Arun Ketley (on alert after MB uttered the word “law”: I don’t think making new laws will change the situation. For every known law, there are at least a dozen loopholes.[lineate][/lineate](Meanwhile the Aam Aadmi representative had been frantically raising his hand to be able to speak but no one pays him attention. Finally, Arnab Goswami, notices him and asks him: I think Gharib Das has something to say on this; are you on the side of the husband or the lady?[lineate][/lineate]Gharib Das (helplessly): I think you have caught the bull by the tail. The issue here is not a women’s issue at all. The issue is why did it take the husband all of five hours to reach home from office. And I will tell you why: it is because of the poor state of the roads in Mumbai during the rains. Anywhere to anywhere takes this much time.[lineate][/lineate]Arnab: I think Gharib Das here is digressing from the issue at hand; let me get back to Mamta now: do you really think making new laws will help?[lineate][/lineate](Poor Gharib Das hold his head in both hands and would have pulled out his hair if there were any left.[lineate][/lineate]
IV
Scene at the Airlines Office
[lineate][/lineate]Harried Manager: For an hour’s flight, we have started calling people two hours in advance “due to traffic congestion in Mumbai” and yet people have been coming late. What should we do?[lineate][/lineate]Efficiency Expert (with solutions to all problems): I think we should start calling them three to four hours in advance. Indeed, for early morning flights, we must suggest to them to spend the night at the airport itself.[lineate][/lineate]Manager (with doubts): But, won’t it be a punishment for travellers?[lineate][/lineate]EE (Confidently): Since when has travel been anything but punishment in and out of Mumbai?[lineate][/lineate]
V
Scene at Watch Repair Shop
[lineate][/lineate]Irate Customer: This is my third visit to you to collect my repaired watch; every time you tell me you didn’t get time. What do you do with your time?[lineate][/lineate]Watch Repairer: Sir, the same thing what you do with your time; I spend most of my time commuting.[lineate][/lineate]Customer: Well, next time will be my last visit; what should I do if next time the watch is not ready?[lineate][/lineate]Watch Repairer: Sir, I suggest next time you buy a calendar. In Mumbai’s traffic, there is no point in looking at the watch for the time; one requires to keep track of the day and date one embarked on the journey.[lineate][/lineate]
VI
Somewhere in Headquarters of LeT
[lineate][/lineate]Terrorist Chief: We need to plan another attack on Mumbai to avenge the hanging of Shaheed Ajmal Kasab[lineate][/lineate]Loyal Terrorist I: Inshallah, we need to do that; they cannot hang our young, innocent lads like Ajmal bhai.[lineate][/lineate]Loyal Terrorist II: But, we need to wait until the rains are over. During the rains we just can’t even reach our targets.[lineate][/lineate]Terrorist Chief: Trust the Indians for having come up with the ultimate defence against our brave Jehaadis.”
I can go on and on. But, the fact is that we shall soon come to a situation when Mumbaiites will stop going from anywhere to anywhere for fear of ageing on the roads during the rains.
[lineate][/lineate]A ten minute ride now takes hours,[lineate][/lineate]Thanks to Mumbai’s perpetual pot holes,[lineate][/lineate]All that happens is a few showers,[lineate][/lineate]
That make us scream: “Please Save Our Souls”.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Save Our Souls from the pools of corruption,[lineate][/lineate]That surround Mumbai’s make-over schemes,[lineate][/lineate]Everywhere it results in wasteful disruption,[lineate][/lineate]Throwing water over our hopes and dreams.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]The same contractors who do shoddy work,[lineate][/lineate]Are the preferred bidders of the big-wigs,[lineate][/lineate]The taste of money gives them a smirk,[lineate][/lineate]As they move on the roads, their junky rigs.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Cordoning off roads for some future repairs,[lineate][/lineate]Is for them most of the work done,[lineate][/lineate]People suffer and are in tears and despair,[lineate][/lineate]But these leeches have their bloody fun.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]The courts then come in and order a count,[lineate][/lineate]Of thousands of pot holes big and small,[lineate][/lineate]Controversies then begin to mount,[lineate][/lineate]That less than four feet is no hole at all![lineate][/lineate]
(Pic courtesy: meri-awaaz-suno@blogspot.in)
[lineate][/lineate]Lives are lost, people and vehicles are injured,[lineate][/lineate]But nothing moves these thick skinned thieves,[lineate][/lineate]They witness the effect of what they conjured,[lineate][/lineate]Public money passing through their corrupt sieves.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Life goes on with not a change in sight,[lineate][/lineate]Across Mumbai’s dismal road-show,[lineate][/lineate]We nurture a hope that the future is bright,[lineate][/lineate]We shall soon reach where we want to go.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]Alas, our Netas and Babus know for sure,[lineate][/lineate]That people tolerance levels are high,[lineate][/lineate]Next Monsoons the same fate they can endure,[lineate][/lineate]Though this Monsoon may make them cry.[lineate][/lineate]
[lineate][/lineate]The financial capital of our nation,[lineate][/lineate]Is reflective of the state we are in,[lineate][/lineate]High hopes but lack of determination,[lineate][/lineate]Makes us, of our future, unfairly sanguine.[lineate][/lineate]
I noticed that on the Facebook and elsewhere, there is a great penchant about putting up Quotes. These range from quotes about Love, Friendship, Politics, Life; indeed about each and every subject. Whilst reading these quotes I was stuck by the realisation that somehow we have this feeling that the sages, saints and wise-people of the past had abundance of sane-advice on all kinds of subjects; but, by a curious quirk of fate, we ourselves and fellow citizens have nothing great to offer in terms of such advice. When I started analysing this, I reached the conclusion that there is nothing simpler than giving sane advice; the answer is really blowing in the wind; it is everywhere. We only have to gather these pearls around us and weave them in a garland. That’s how I started this Facebook page called ‘Make Your Own Quotes’ with an introduction: “There is nothing simpler than giving sane advice; you don’t have to follow great teachers. Make your own quotes and let others follow you.”
This venture started on the 25th of Feb 2013 and on the coming 25th of April, it would be all of two months old. I have received tremendous interest from friends in these Quotes that have not only advice, but, at times are humorous and even naughty. I give you here the best of ‘Make Your Own Quotes’ from my Facebook page for the last two months, with the promise that the best is yet to come as long as you subscribe to it by Liking the Page.
I like all quotes on Facebook; these provide quick and easy solutions to life’s seemingly complex problems. I believe life is as simple as Facebook; what you get is dependant upon your “settings”.
I started off by giving tips to people on how to make their own quotes, eg,
Great Quotes Tip #1: Compare Life, Love, Relationships etc to something mundane and infer “great” sounding advice out of it.Here is an (original example): “Friends should be like electricity wires; opposite poles, running parallel and lighting up lives by meeting”. For effect, inscribe this on a totally unrelated picture of, say, a Frog in a Pond. Wanna try your hand at it; go ahead….nothing is simpler! Try comparing Life to Beans!! Go ahead, now that you have joined this site, you will eventually follow your own quotes!!!
I followed this up with:
Great Quotes Tip #2
Take a famous Quote and make it stand on its head by a juxtaposition of words. They will really marvel at the quotes “great” and “pragmatic” message.
For example:
Where there is a way, there is a will!
Great Quotes Tip #3Simplify to the point of being ridiculous and you have a great Quote….especially if it is on a colourful picture.
Great Quotes Tip #4: Quotes about something called ‘LOVE’ will always be very popular; the best are those that don’t make any sense at all; for then they have this enigmatic quality about them, which is similar to the subject of the Quotes!
At a fairly early stage, I could make fun of my own quotes. Here is one:
Here is one of my early quotes about the reality of Poverty Alleviation Programmes:
Many times, My Quotes are regarding prevalent fads. Here is one of them:
I have made many that are simply ‘tongue in cheek’. This one was well liked. Indeed, a friend commented that in future she would think of this every time in a discussion:
I then started with Alternate Definitions of words. This one is my very first effort:
I have always been interested in Psychology and Philosophy. In this blog itself there is a section on Philosophy. Naturally, therefore, many of my quotes are on this subject. Here is one:
Some of my quotes are based on my observations and lessons that I have learnt in life. Here is one based on my observations:
I simply adored our dog Roger. I have made a number of quotes about Dog as the Master of Man. This is a simple one:
Half way through, I reminded everyone not to be rooted to the ideas of the sages and saints of the past by believing that somehow they are the only ones who could say wise things. Taste this:
Subject of God has also been favourite with me. This became my most popular Quote:
My love of dogs in general and Roger in particular is a recurring theme with me. Taste this:
I delve a lot into finding answers to Philosophical and Meta-Physical questions; questions about space, universe, God, Religion etc. I have a section called ‘Philosophy’ on my blog, wherein I give vent to these. Here is one of the quotes regarding this:
Love and Hate are subjects of Quotes for me too. Here is a genuine doubt reflected in a quote:
Whilst being on the subject of Love and Hate, here is one about Love and War and the uselessness of loving war:
All of us need some comforting thought or the other. For me, my most grateful thought has been that somehow God has not made me as miserable as He has made others. Thank God for that:
Here is a real tongue-in-cheek on the abundance of Free Advice available on the net these days, including my own!
Mahatma Gandhi believed in Simplicity. I have tried to reason out that most of Life’s lessons are simple indeed. Take a look:
Talking about Simplicity leading to Greatness, I genuinely feel that Being Poor at Heart is a great virtue indeed. The Quote below was as a result of this:
Here is my Quote on the Indian festival of Colour called Holi. This is totally tongue-in-cheek:
Love and Hate continued to fascinate me. One result was:
I considered that no subject is a taboo for me. The following is on the subject of Sex and it generated a fair deal of healthy discussion:
I also make Quotes on my observations. Here is one about great communication skills being mistaken for great knowledge:
Here is a bit of advice about giving and rendering service for others who can do nothing for you except to give you the gift of advice; but, it is the greatest gift.
Here is a humorous take on ‘forgetful husbands’. Is there another kind?
Here is another one on Free Advice:
I asked a genuine doubt if Heart has a Mind of its own. I received a number of smart answers:
And here is one about the place of Ego in Love:
Here is a real good one about the oft touted ‘Out-of-the-box’ thinking. Does it bring a smile on your face?
Here is one about taking on a popular saying and making the logic of it stand on its head. It was very well received:
Here is a dig on the ubiquitous and all powerful auditors: a necessary evil!
Ever heard of a word called Dililady? No? Well read the meaning:
Finally, let me end with one about the Mightier doing horrible things to those whom they find Meek and different; which is half the humanity or more! I cannot forget growing up as a boy belonging to a minority community in a majority state and being subjected to relentless taunts, abuses, innuendo and violence.
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The year 2012 started with Laura Dekker, a sixteen year old Dutch/German/New Zealander becoming the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe single-handed in a boat. (Read: ‘The Lure of Going on A Limb’) That was on the 21st of January. The year ended with a 23 years old girl in Delhi being gang-raped in a bus (on the evening of 16 Dec); which finally resulted in her death (13 agonising days later). A newspaper called her Nirbhaya (Hindi for Fearless) not only in deference to the identity of a rape victim to be protected but also to express the hope that human spirit can never be crushed even by the act of the rapists.
Nevertheless, we in India, and especially our women, cannot be faulted in forming the opinion that it is easier for a girl to go around the earth in a boat; but, it is fraught with untold dangers and risks for her to take a bus-ride in Delhi, the (rape) capital of India.
Caption: wired.com
Similarly, on 15th of Oct this year Felix Baumgartner jumped from the edge of space and had a free-fall so as to break the sound-barrier at Mach 1.24 or 833 mph. He jumped from a height of 128,000 feet or 25 miles and landed safely in the desert.
A week before that, The Times of India reported that one in every ten deaths in road accidents in the world occur in India; which is in sharp contrast to India having only 1% of vehicles in the world. This makes it 14 people dying of road accidents in India every hour. We don’t have to go to the edge of the space and jump to get the thrill of near death; we get it everyday on our roads. Yes, the authorities are to be blamed for the poor state of our roads. However, making driving dangerous in India is our own doing. We have no one to blame. (Read: ‘Why Must We Love Indian Roads’ and ‘We Are Like That Only’ and ‘If You Drive In India – Part I’, and Part II)
Courtesy: dayandnightnews.com
India now has some of the richest people in the world. We have as many as 61 billionaires (counting only those with declared income and not the Ponty Chadha types who grew empires under the very nose of the authorities). The Forbes magazine reported in Oct 2012 that the net worth of 100 richest Indians is $ 250 billion. The estimate of our GDP is $ 1.84 trillion. We are now the tenth largest economy in the world in real terms and third largest in purchasing power parity. And yet, we have the largest populations of poor in the world; a UN Survey in Nov 2011 showed that in the eight northern states of the country we have more poor than in the whole of African continent. Our farmers routinely commit suicide unable to pay loans they take for crops. We are ranked between 120 to 150 in all indices of human growth. However, our state arrogance routinely tout us as very close to becoming a “world power”. We have between 40 to 60 per cent of our people living below the UN designated $1.25 per day mark for poverty.
Courtesy: wikipedia
One in every six people in the world is now an Indian. Yet, in the Olympics, with our best performance ever in the number of medals (2 silver and 4 bronze) we were ranked 55th. (Read: ‘Olympics Are Biased Against Indians’) Cricket is the only game in which we are somewhere in the top; but, getting there makes us so complacent that we again start competing for the bottom immediately after reaching those heights. Indeed, a jamboree called IPL shows that we like to gloat in money power more than any finesse in the actual game.
Our judicial system is so bad (Read: The Great Indian Judicial Circus) that most Indians do not hope to get any justice during their life-time. The Times of India reported on 05 Oct 2012 that we have now 43.22 Lakh cases waiting only in High Courts. As far as numbers in lower courts are concerned one can only say that whilst in positive indices we are at the rock-bottom, in negatives (like road accidents) we are the toppers.
Our cities and towns are now unliveable with filth and chaos everywhere. Diseases like dengue are assuming alarming proportions (Read my humorous take on potential for energy through waste: Good New for Mumbai). Mumbai recently got ranked as the filthiest big city in the world and Delhi is not far behind.
I can go on and on. Lets see where the hope lies. Some said at the height of our anti-corruption demonstrations this year that the end of patience of our people has been reached and people are now prepared to show zero-tolerance towards corruption. My take on this was that corruption doesn’t exist only in higher circles in India; we are all part of it when we indulge in petty bribe taking and giving. We too have to stop this scourge from spreading just as we accuse those in power.
One of the best programmes that came about the problems that the country faces was Aamir Khan’s Satyamev Jayate. The programme research and presentation were of very high order. It cautioned people against seeking quick-fix solutions but wanted people to at least take the first steps towards putting things right. (Read: ‘Born Free? Satyamev Jayate? Lets Work Towards It’)
That outstanding programme shouldn’t be a distant memory with us as we show angry response from one issue to the other. As 2012 comes to an end lets all resolve that we shall actually do all those things that are necessary to make India a great country and Indians happier, safer, securer, healthier and more knowledgeable.
Here is wishing all my readers a very happy new year: 2013.
Gradually, yellow becomes crimson and crimson becomes black and night engulfs you and takes you in your arms with promise of another day, another part of your journey on earth.
