tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85141770673786589902024-02-06T20:37:04.036-08:00Thoughts @ Seven Miles Per HourThings that run through my mind, when the rest of me is struggling to run at the said speed.Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-75213789857879869092013-03-28T17:29:00.000-07:002013-03-31T23:29:03.381-07:00Khud se hi darr raha hai...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">खुद से ही डर रहा है आने वाला कल,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">नाउम्मीदी के ऐसे गुज़रे किस्से तुम सुनाते हो।</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">दुनिया से तो कह आये तुम कि ज़ख्म है हल्का,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">दर्द आज भी है, दिल को आज भी सहलाते हो।</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">सीधी बात कह डालूँ, तो रूठ जाते है मुझसे, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">फिर इलज़ाम भी देते हैं, कि बातें क्यों उलझाते हो?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">होश अपना तुम किसी के नाम कर आये,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">अपना नाम भी अब आइना देख कर बतलाते हो।</span></div>
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Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-86119343697482569682012-05-11T13:58:00.003-07:002012-05-11T15:36:06.408-07:00With due apologies to one Mr. Asadullah Beg Khan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNfBeRA0ePezBRFV1B_RJPXzeDkPYixXNvi_3orkzGq-VYl5f52WHsbbqc7HpTW_jwN0kTyMkW__yu4UoecH35SBKf0BQEhvSNg4Uj1f4LObV7HjCYxD_Y69n8WqbH7OGHptikxH9wPc/s1600/Kick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNfBeRA0ePezBRFV1B_RJPXzeDkPYixXNvi_3orkzGq-VYl5f52WHsbbqc7HpTW_jwN0kTyMkW__yu4UoecH35SBKf0BQEhvSNg4Uj1f4LObV7HjCYxD_Y69n8WqbH7OGHptikxH9wPc/s640/Kick.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you ask for the literal meaning, this is what Ghalib says:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 28px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">दर्द से है मेरे तुझको बेक़रारी, हाय हाय.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(You say my pain leaves you restless, Dear God!)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 28px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">क्या हुई ज़ालिम तेरी गफ़ल्ताशीयारी, हाय हाय. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Just what happened to your cruel carelessness, Dear God!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But if only the man were that simple to explain, in words or in illustration! So I decided, I had had enough of not being able to draw Ghalib in the seriousness that he dictates. There you go, Ghalib! That's what happens when you write gloriously lyrical thoughts that cannot be expressed in any other medium. People draw silly cartoons about them.</span></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-53170091050466067962012-05-11T13:39:00.004-07:002012-05-11T15:09:40.033-07:00Hairy leg! Thou must be punished...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEev5xqzA6PrFThVfcyZ0qiyr9yllZwK6XDWDOtzCMcw0Kn-hCc9kFRgFkGSfC-2WM8skE0DbBqYb7Td82bOxTLe2fErkF5dHTNjm1kiEIQcy3dnTVE-NH6ZXrREaPeChUUYhpxFkC9s/s1600/Wax+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEev5xqzA6PrFThVfcyZ0qiyr9yllZwK6XDWDOtzCMcw0Kn-hCc9kFRgFkGSfC-2WM8skE0DbBqYb7Td82bOxTLe2fErkF5dHTNjm1kiEIQcy3dnTVE-NH6ZXrREaPeChUUYhpxFkC9s/s640/Wax+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Who was the first person who thought this would be a good idea? You know pouring some hot, molten caramel on bare skin, rubbing it on for good measure and then yanking it right off! Clearly someone, somewhere hated body hair in a badass way. Also they were very very sick and should have been kept in the isolation ward of the 'dangerously insane'.</div>
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So anyhow, given how insane the society in general is, this thing became pretty popular; a normal routine thing in fact. Body hair has been shunned from decent society. Still it shows up every month. Shame on you, you hairy leg! Even after all the pain you have been through, you don't give up. <b>Thou must be punished...</b></div>
<span id="goog_1379028237"></span><span id="goog_1379028238"></span></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-69020417289284398282012-05-11T12:58:00.001-07:002012-05-11T15:09:50.045-07:00There is only so much liberal arts crap that you can dish out to your mother<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tFPIqHWF6eyHFUz-W0eCVPFWJf_AjmfF235JV94k596PkCT2kJsp9MSMiCL4JuALObG7SUqyVeJZd56ZKvuxqjgPGR5AUgiNUxnrQf3vytDFnIbqEVUqlOcqc3fEKn2wlfPdGO8HyiU/s1600/freud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tFPIqHWF6eyHFUz-W0eCVPFWJf_AjmfF235JV94k596PkCT2kJsp9MSMiCL4JuALObG7SUqyVeJZd56ZKvuxqjgPGR5AUgiNUxnrQf3vytDFnIbqEVUqlOcqc3fEKn2wlfPdGO8HyiU/s640/freud.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Trust mothers to put a bit of common-sense into a liberal-arts lecture...</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-54400067383083002862012-05-11T12:06:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:18:33.939-07:00अब और कितने स्टेशन बाक़ी हैं?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KcqVcvbfc2LxYcchLQNOwO4SzYMkT6ZybpeuPhh8UFDDaqjcPJzQOQvs3NZ643OZGS8w-i2Llni3R0fGxaePwFDLNv6quhAaC1L9CdGp9Q081TyBEavK19RkRKtllTrC7izZAnM5u2o/s1600/platform_ticket+copy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="330" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576257197057949442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KcqVcvbfc2LxYcchLQNOwO4SzYMkT6ZybpeuPhh8UFDDaqjcPJzQOQvs3NZ643OZGS8w-i2Llni3R0fGxaePwFDLNv6quhAaC1L9CdGp9Q081TyBEavK19RkRKtllTrC7izZAnM5u2o/s400/platform_ticket+copy.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0pt;" width="400" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="138" title="Click to correct">इक्कीस</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="139" title="Click to correct">फ़रवरी</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="140" title="Click to correct">का</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="142" title="Click to correct">टिकट</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="219" title="Click to correct">जेब</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="220" title="Click to correct">में</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="221" title="Click to correct"></span><span class=" transl_class" id="223" title="Click to correct">छुट्टे पैसे</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="224" title="Click to correct">खोजना. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="135" title="Click to correct">एक</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="275" title="Click to correct">गरम</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="136" title="Click to correct">कप</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="137" title="Click to correct">कॉफ़ी में</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">एक <span class=" transl_class" id="226" title="Click to correct">हज़ार</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="230" title="Click to correct">बातें</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="231" title="Click to correct">घोलना. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="262" title="Click to correct">पल</span>-<span class=" transl_class" id="263" title="Click to correct">पल</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="259" title="Click to correct">की</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="260" title="Click to correct">पाबंदी है</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="166" title="Click to correct"></span><span class=" transl_class" id="264" title="Click to correct">क्या</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="265" title="Click to correct">बात</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="266" title="Click to correct">कहें</span>, <span class=" transl_class" id="267" title="Click to correct">क्या</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="270" title="Click to correct">जानें </span><span class=" transl_class" id="271" title="Click to correct">दें</span>? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="314" title="Click to correct">और</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="315" title="Click to correct">उसपर</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="325" title="Click to correct">भी</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="317" title="Click to correct">ये</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="318" title="Click to correct">तय</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="319" title="Click to correct">करना</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="320" title="Click to correct">समझायें</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="321" title="Click to correct">या</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="323" title="Click to correct">समझानें</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="324" title="Click to correct">दें</span>? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="347" title="Click to correct">अब</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="333" title="Click to correct">भारी</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="334" title="Click to correct">मन</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="335" title="Click to correct">से</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="338" title="Click to correct">चढ़</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="339" title="Click to correct">तो</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="340" title="Click to correct">गए</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="348" title="Click to correct"></span><span class=" transl_class" id="373" title="Click to correct">जाने</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="374" title="Click to correct">की</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="377" title="Click to correct">भी</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="350" title="Click to correct">मजबूरी</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="351" title="Click to correct">है. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="405" title="Click to correct">तुम</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="406" title="Click to correct">रुक</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="407" title="Click to correct">जाओ,</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="409" title="Click to correct">हम</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="410" title="Click to correct">साथ</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="411" title="Click to correct">चलें</span>, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">कितनी लम्बी ये दूरी है. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class=" transl_class" id="440" title="Click to correct">ये</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="441" title="Click to correct">किस्सा</span> <span class=" transl_class" id="442" title="Click to correct">सुन शायद दुनिया, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">हंस-हंस कर पागल हो जाए. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">रोने से फुर्सत कहाँ हमें, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">कि उनको जज़्बा समझायें. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">है गला रुंधा और सिर भारी, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">वरना उनको समझाते हम. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">हर प्लेटफ़ॉर्म पर बिछड़-बिछड़, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">फिर दूजे पे मिल जाते हम. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How does one celebrate seven years of not running out of words to say to each other? By holding hands over a humble cup of coffee on the railway station as we continue talking. At railway stations all over the country, we have had inconsolable, heart-breaking farewells; only to poetically reunite on similar railway stations at a later date. Movie scripts can only aspire to match this sort of drama. (The comic relief we provide to the general public is a bonus feature.) Darling, what other love can I aspire to? You have set the benchmark too high.</span></div>
</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-78609161043820869002012-02-12T07:32:00.000-08:002012-05-11T15:19:10.813-07:00The thin line between comedy and tragedy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Laughter and applause. What a crowd, what a night! But they won't let him leave without one last wisecrack. The jester sighs behind his painted smile. And fishes in his little bag of tragedies to craft one more joke for the night...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZmNiqd2RrArz1SECdBk8zyUlpEOinnTNuC2E76jeQUcxlkNtKtr_y2GFm60DegW1vrs7q8NdVxPQ-kUpy9YKEimBjZc8-NfGAHuDHs8tL6-qXMczwgTxO2hw2fVnV-l37SsyTJi5-Xs/s1600/Small+Clown+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZmNiqd2RrArz1SECdBk8zyUlpEOinnTNuC2E76jeQUcxlkNtKtr_y2GFm60DegW1vrs7q8NdVxPQ-kUpy9YKEimBjZc8-NfGAHuDHs8tL6-qXMczwgTxO2hw2fVnV-l37SsyTJi5-Xs/s640/Small+Clown+girl.jpg" width="438" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-66592487639304554772012-02-05T08:18:00.000-08:002012-05-11T15:19:21.743-07:00The element of surprise in love...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArtOPZ7v6P-3lnfSX9LbxB_Oq-AFj3I8KEaYalQnJiLkK27IT0vdSdpY9ez07WfmFTGgyRHckwInww9qmiZHKCq1t8ZTBt7yqA7SHb6HKc85-LJxZ2_tghIP_fw98uZSWuqZpyiw1OAc/s1600/Web-Captain-Surprise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArtOPZ7v6P-3lnfSX9LbxB_Oq-AFj3I8KEaYalQnJiLkK27IT0vdSdpY9ez07WfmFTGgyRHckwInww9qmiZHKCq1t8ZTBt7yqA7SHb6HKc85-LJxZ2_tghIP_fw98uZSWuqZpyiw1OAc/s640/Web-Captain-Surprise.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-40506156067306997182011-10-01T10:25:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:20:10.094-07:00Bus 119<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">at Infy, Mysore in 2007. Just as the clock struck 5, hoards of happy Infoscions escaped the cubicles, via Food court 1 and boarded bus #119 on their way to freedom. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">This was the year Puneet Raj Kumar's "Ninninndale" was being played everywhere. I heard this song so many times on the bus, I actually began to like it. Even today, this song brings back to mind those days of travelling from Hebbal to Myna auntie's house via Bharat Cancer, Vijaynagar, Surya bakery, Fab mall...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4o25o9HMSOnhh86HZ7QCK1ffqJgwDZ07MHF4uF5SVOsm-9lxoLz72x9UEf5K17dgsyeh_9F1_IO3FJVaxoct_RTUltbesImfagG2fLLUnuMXaIyMZ0-rwDnLu8ziJrHLDL7u-JdxYhUI/s1600/Mysuru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4o25o9HMSOnhh86HZ7QCK1ffqJgwDZ07MHF4uF5SVOsm-9lxoLz72x9UEf5K17dgsyeh_9F1_IO3FJVaxoct_RTUltbesImfagG2fLLUnuMXaIyMZ0-rwDnLu8ziJrHLDL7u-JdxYhUI/s640/Mysuru.jpg" width="464" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-69563885064030549182011-06-22T06:25:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:25:50.597-07:00Mahishasuramardini<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuDpzodju6_n83j3kr358aBT_20XzxCAXHUf1M-WJOTZb5YZpcpPgJbDJPPFMTDUeodHyU_RmzcHUfBDkHsCdQiK0V9ua7T5vLnXAtoICEeuhi6EQwePN6-fCzah3NbyRM9IPYWlWKmc/s1600/MsMd.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="451" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621038095845957746" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDuDpzodju6_n83j3kr358aBT_20XzxCAXHUf1M-WJOTZb5YZpcpPgJbDJPPFMTDUeodHyU_RmzcHUfBDkHsCdQiK0V9ua7T5vLnXAtoICEeuhi6EQwePN6-fCzah3NbyRM9IPYWlWKmc/s640/MsMd.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The trouble with watching an awesome dance performance live is that one begins to feel very left out and ostracized by the end of it. I know!! Petty me! But to watch breathtaking choreography without being a part of it in anyway is my idea of a desperate personal hell.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And sometimes desperation is another name for inspiration. Hoohaahaaaaa...</span></div>
</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-7072226736375030072011-06-22T06:13:00.001-07:002012-05-11T15:22:05.775-07:00Hide and seek<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lNmDhg9CjuCZp-kNT52POim3-0ElOZByWA-4byp-eAbausOdioKdzOZtoecAZYNtWbV81wzpwgNymCi10zrsast09dQcmquAFrhF9Gs8tZ5OCMFqgf6hItkk8aWpKM_WXvl-qiuvxts/s1600/Hide+And+Seek.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="478" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621031754444276546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lNmDhg9CjuCZp-kNT52POim3-0ElOZByWA-4byp-eAbausOdioKdzOZtoecAZYNtWbV81wzpwgNymCi10zrsast09dQcmquAFrhF9Gs8tZ5OCMFqgf6hItkk8aWpKM_WXvl-qiuvxts/s640/Hide+And+Seek.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-86399072973402695542011-05-17T08:01:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:26:23.426-07:00One by one they all fly away...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvwpiglukJfYUSbVg9yeXfbhyGNa7MYP3HJjsemgjXLYCplnCWOgeljWsqh-9b0L4r3gJ9vPAVFqw7JjcBh0L0IK8zSSB9VH9JqHfUhQGl0p0ed2_4Us8U-18q33FyMpe-x7J7_W9_pE/s1600/Fly+away+copy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="417" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608232595218162930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvwpiglukJfYUSbVg9yeXfbhyGNa7MYP3HJjsemgjXLYCplnCWOgeljWsqh-9b0L4r3gJ9vPAVFqw7JjcBh0L0IK8zSSB9VH9JqHfUhQGl0p0ed2_4Us8U-18q33FyMpe-x7J7_W9_pE/s640/Fly+away+copy.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px;" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stumbled upon an old album from my undergrad days when we were all together, in pursuit of specimenhood...</span></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-67583939086996303742011-03-15T10:06:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:25:03.832-07:00Sigh!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVycs3Hz8Hb4Hdu-91uaGtXLf6ET7Iw1ryrxjRGxMtKK2wX0Bx9O-nrvwZxC6FQDQGy5WnLudpLX8UhTgdJ_ZCSPQQ-xxPSs051vCpVhpEFRNNHP_oCiEirLGJJOQfbR6tN8D-ULEf6gU/s1600/forblog.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="621" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584354357455547266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVycs3Hz8Hb4Hdu-91uaGtXLf6ET7Iw1ryrxjRGxMtKK2wX0Bx9O-nrvwZxC6FQDQGy5WnLudpLX8UhTgdJ_ZCSPQQ-xxPSs051vCpVhpEFRNNHP_oCiEirLGJJOQfbR6tN8D-ULEf6gU/s640/forblog.jpg" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0pt;" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seven miles per hour; and this was in my head?!!! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So it was!! Big deal!!! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The film has Richard Gere. There is a uniform involved. It's complicated. Don't judge me.</span></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-67823422909192140852011-02-11T08:18:00.000-08:002011-02-18T16:30:17.904-08:00विचारों की vacancy<span style="font-size:130%;"><span>एक</span> <span>किस्म</span> <span>की</span> <span>कायरता</span> <span>बुन</span> <span>ली</span> <span>है</span> <span>तुमने</span>,<br /><span>अपने</span> <span>विचारों</span> <span>में</span>,<br /><span>अपनी</span> <span>धारणाओं</span> <span>में।</span><br /><span>स्वीकृति</span> <span>के</span> <span>भूखे</span> <span>इन</span> <span>विचारों</span> <span>में</span>,<br /><span>नया</span> <span>सा</span> <span>कुछ</span> <span>भी</span> <span>नहीं।</span><br /><span>न</span> <span>यह</span> <span>क्रांति</span> <span>ला</span> <span>सकते</span> <span>हैं</span>,<br /><span>न</span> <span>समय</span> <span>पर</span> <span>अपना</span> <span>चिन्ह</span> <span>ही</span> <span>छोड़</span> <span>सकते</span> <span>हैं।</span><br /><span>ये</span> <span>सिर्फ</span> <span>चाय</span> <span>की</span> <span>टपरी</span> <span>पर</span> <span>बैठकर</span>,<br /><span>चर्चा</span>-<span>परिचर्चा</span> <span>कर</span> <span>सकते</span> <span>हैं</span>,<br /><span>सबसे</span> <span>सहमत</span> <span>हो</span> <span>सकते</span> <span>हैं</span>,<br /><span>बहती</span> <span>हवा</span> <span>के</span> <span>रुख</span> <span>में</span> <span>बह</span> <span>सकते</span> <span>हैं।</span><br /><span>लेकिन</span> <span>अगर</span> <span>कोई</span> <span>सच्चा</span> <span>संकल्प</span> <span>लेना</span> <span>हो</span>,<br /><span>या</span> <span>किसी</span> <span>जज़्बे</span> <span>का</span> <span>भार</span> <span>उठाना</span> <span>हो</span>,<br /><span>तो</span> <span>इनके</span> <span>पांव</span> <span>कांपने</span> <span>लगते</span> <span>हैं।</span></span>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-48947205515964226122010-12-28T01:54:00.000-08:002012-05-11T15:27:21.307-07:00Maybe this is too literal, but hell I was feeling very come-undonnish...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PnBsAqfm64EL31ZmIRfrMPpao0MT-zauiR9MiTyK6moz8qaXrANEi_QxK9njrKJQonM2QkokVyIKRtSTSkwvQTuoi7p-svM64kYATyhtsbjRT4ekywe_nfm1_Bw23a33DNxk_I6BPaQ/s1600/come+undone+copy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555669880268551074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PnBsAqfm64EL31ZmIRfrMPpao0MT-zauiR9MiTyK6moz8qaXrANEi_QxK9njrKJQonM2QkokVyIKRtSTSkwvQTuoi7p-svM64kYATyhtsbjRT4ekywe_nfm1_Bw23a33DNxk_I6BPaQ/s640/come+undone+copy.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="465" /></a></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-22113795829512976612010-12-08T03:18:00.000-08:002012-05-11T15:27:53.809-07:00जयपुर से कन्नूर<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLhjUuY8803Z36EdXnLo5zvFBnPewAe8TC0t4VD1NdYg_LSo3J9jHHgmikkQkPWLU3n4AnOyPVnoqjUsMB1Kyb4ZccT_Kb_eiArTqUUWGrn1Gc36Uod3brahCvtJ0dz6c12bJaZlgWl4/s1600/J2K2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621032325927151826" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLhjUuY8803Z36EdXnLo5zvFBnPewAe8TC0t4VD1NdYg_LSo3J9jHHgmikkQkPWLU3n4AnOyPVnoqjUsMB1Kyb4ZccT_Kb_eiArTqUUWGrn1Gc36Uod3brahCvtJ0dz6c12bJaZlgWl4/s640/J2K2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="462" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMPuwW8NgJ8-Z13nxUqMO8X0_ACmgrlU9-U08-5ZbGYMogsbb1P51Ws_c92rszkyRX7d8YvVo-wU8l3nBMGIheYRjfnD8KAVTb8JzFn7vLIwkldiNAqjsU3PG4HRmQppQgrfF1-nLIgl8/s1600/Image_49.jpg"><br /></a></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-17952051284103511922010-10-26T02:06:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:29:34.700-07:00Where are the old cities?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrPhJr-SUZA77-Msp19482fyWYjpYN3KN80z-SbJswHq_WvIWeshH4_iGoQdNeUnHHuMLURYE0MK1dRYVfN_h9gvebLn1ScpmAq9xqqm6kHiJRAWaPDbn_q4yMB2DbhOFZyJx3jyhmes/s1600/CityScape+copy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="384" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532747666710798546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrPhJr-SUZA77-Msp19482fyWYjpYN3KN80z-SbJswHq_WvIWeshH4_iGoQdNeUnHHuMLURYE0MK1dRYVfN_h9gvebLn1ScpmAq9xqqm6kHiJRAWaPDbn_q4yMB2DbhOFZyJx3jyhmes/s640/CityScape+copy.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">सीढ़ी, सड़कों, दीवारों से.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">गलियों, कूचों, बाज़ारों से.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">आँगन और चौखट और नुक्कड़,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">चारास्तों से, चौबारों से.</span></div>
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<blockquote>
<blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">मंदिर तक जाते रस्ते से,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">जो घाट पे जा कर गिरता था.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">गलियों को छेड़ के जो उनके,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">आगे-पीछे को फिरता था.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">उस छत से जिस की गोदी में,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">सर्दी की धूप सो जाती थी.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">जहाँ शाम ढले अनगिनत पतंगे,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">उतर समर में आती थीं.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">फिर पूछा रुक-रुक कर मैंने,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">हाट की सब दूकानों से.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">जहाँ सौदा करते आये थे,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">कभी रुपये, कभी चार आनों से.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">पर नहीं मिला, अब किसे याद,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">अब कौन पता दे सकता है?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">था शहर पुराना वैसे भी,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">बिक गया, कबाड़ था, अच्छा है.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 180%;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-3384593529723196712010-09-11T23:01:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:30:01.476-07:00Pink! Just like that...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQI9NYCURy52129btDLUmpm-mghTCgK78dBPkajhppFAG8m_UNwKj7bih7dhVNlgdHEeBqxMZkrrLREnt0Jlr_RbjZu8SzNtSZroWdcq5NDz1vejj5JErVX8DwOO9n4Yeoe8Lj97eQPDk/s1600/pink.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515903304808994930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQI9NYCURy52129btDLUmpm-mghTCgK78dBPkajhppFAG8m_UNwKj7bih7dhVNlgdHEeBqxMZkrrLREnt0Jlr_RbjZu8SzNtSZroWdcq5NDz1vejj5JErVX8DwOO9n4Yeoe8Lj97eQPDk/s640/pink.jpg" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="440" /></a></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-90330539638313639872010-08-15T05:32:00.000-07:002011-02-18T09:28:19.498-08:00Mujhse pehli si muhabbat mere mehbuub na maang<span style="font-size:130%;">Faiz Ahmed Faiz wrote the poem "मुझसे पहली सी मोहब्बत मेरे महबूब न मांग". But it was Noor Jehan's celebrated voice, that shot his words to fame, as they rang across airwaves all over the world.<br /><br />The first half of the poem mourns the love that once was, and is now lost. Delicately, Faiz weaves into words, the generous promises held in the folds of first love. When the resolution to every misery and misfortune lies in the embrace of that one lasting love. Steadily Faiz builds the sense of loss between the estranged lovers.<br /><br />But Faiz was a crafty poet. The first half of the poem is simply an invitation; an invitation to be presumptuous. Faiz leads you on to imagine that this is just another poem about the aching tragedy of love. This is when the second half of his words, brutally bring to conclusion the real sentiments behind Faiz's writing.<br /><br />Faiz was a poet and a marxist. The second half of the poem speaks of the grotesque and sickly face of life elsewhere. In the real world where years of exploitation by the rich have driven the poor to become a commodity; a disease; a sore that begs to be called 'life' too. The poet, despite trying, is unable to ignore this spectacle of suffering. He assures his sweetheart, that her beauty and her grace still hold the same place in his heart. But he is disillusioned now and knows that there are greater tragedies in life than the tragedy of lost love. There are far greater pains on earth that need relief; relief that is far more urgent than that of 'vasl' or 'meeting one's love'.<br /><br />Here is the second half of the poem with word meanings included. For the complete poem, you can visit urdupoetry.com<br /><br />मुझ से पहली सी मोहब्बत मेरे महबूब न मांग<br />अनगिनत सदियों के तारीक बहिमाना तलिस्म<br />रेशम-ओ-अतलस-ओ-कम-ख़्वाब में बुनवाये हुए<br />जा-बा-जा बिकते हुए कूचा-ओ-बाज़ार में जिस्म<br />ख़ाक में लिथड़े हुए, खून में नहलाये हुए<br />जिस्म निकले हुए अमराज़ के तन्नूरों से<br />पीप बहती हुई, गलते हुए नासूरों से<br />लौट जाती है उधर को भी नज़र क्या कीजे<br />अब भी दिलकश है तेरा हुस्न मगर क्या कीजे<br /><br />और भी gum हैं ज़माने में मोहब्बत के सिवा<br />राहतें और भी हैं वस्ल की राहत के सिवा<br />मुझ से पहली सी मोहब्बत मेरे महबूब न मांग<br /><span class=""></span><br /><br /></span><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">vasl = union/meeting; </span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">taariik = dark</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">bahiimaanaa = dreadful</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">talism = magic</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">resham = silk</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">atalas = satin</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">kam_Khvaab = brocade</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">jaa-ba-jaa = hither-thither</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">litha.De = covered/soaked in</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">amaraaz = diseases</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">tannuuron = ovens</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">piip = pus</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">naasuur = ulcer/a wound that won't heal</span></p><p><span class="" style="font-size:130%;">dil_kash = heart-warming</span></p>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-44848427716896274052010-08-08T03:20:00.000-07:002010-12-17T00:58:56.470-08:00An after-thought to Editing lecturesA wise man once tried to explain to a bunch of bambi-eyed students, why cinema was not a language but a meta language. This is what one of the bambi-eyed understood.<br /><br />Learning a language (say Hindi) can teach you that nice weather can be expressed by words "<em>achcha mausam</em>". Learning a meta language can teach you how to lay down rules in a language so that a collection of symbols express a certain meaning. So a meta language will allow me to define a new language all together in which good weather can be called "sikka dum; dee da da". Also meta language will help me understand the structure of Hindi and why therefore should "achcha mausam" mean good weather in Hindi.<br /><br />This mean that cinema or film language does not tell me that a montage means "xyz happened" or a fade in implies that "so much time elapsed" or a sound effect estabilishes "such and such facts"? Instead it teaches me to how to establish what a fade out could mean within the context of my film, what sense a certain shot would evoke in the audience as regards my film, what a montage sequence will come to mean strictly in my film.<br /><br />The principle advantage of this school of thought is that if this is what the wise man really meant, then hah, I got his point; and if it isn't, then hah, I just came up with a film theory. (All smiles. Very happy. Dangerously skirting self-congratulations)Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-84226788264773252552010-06-20T12:59:00.000-07:002011-02-18T09:29:21.049-08:00Maine yeh jaana ki goya yeh bhi mere dil mein hai...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'll steer clear of words like 'love', 'adore', 'admire', 'absolutely crazy about'. I am neither a fanatic nor an authority on it. I just read poetry and occasionally run into words that could have been put together only by some occult literary magic and nothing less.<br /><br />I owe '<strong>Kadamb ka ped</strong>', '<strong>Basanti hava</strong>' and '<strong>Krishna ki chetawani</strong>' to the humble NCERT books. Members of my typical Hindi-speaking, CBSE-boarding, Uttar-Pradesh-hailing family, often broke into renditions of boistrously rhythmic and fiercely chaste Hindi poems. All it took was a power cut, my naniji's courtyard and post-dinner idling for someone to proclaim -<br />"<strong>Sinhasan hil uthey raajvanshon ney bhrikuti tani thi,<br />Boodhay Bharat mein aayee phir se nayi jawani thi<br />Gumee huee azadi ki keemat sabney pehchani thi<br />Door phirangi ko karney ki sab ney man mein thani thi<br />Chamak uthi san sattavan mein woh talwar purani thi<br />Bundeley Harbolon key munh hamney suni kahani thi<br />Khoob ladi mardani woh to Jhansi wali Rani thi...</strong>"<br /><br />The ones more inclined to situational drama would quote when the occasion demanded -<br />"<strong>Woh khoon kaho kis matlab ka, jisme ubaal ka naam nahi,<br />Woh khoon kaho kis matlab ka, aa sake desh ke kaam nahi,<br />Woh khoon kaho kis matlab ka, jisme jeevan na ravaani hai.<br />Jo parvash ho kar behtaa hai, woh khoon nahi woh paani hai!</strong>"<br /><br />Untill I had read his name in my Hindi text book, I thought Ramdhari Singh Dinkar was a family friend because everyone was quoting him. After a scuffle with my cousin, I chose to be the bigger person and said I had forgiven him. The 8-year old brat, who I thought was capable of only bullying and mathematics replied-<br />"<strong>Shama shobhti uss bhujang ko, jiske paas garal ho<br />Uska kya jo dant-heen vish-heen vineet saral ho...</strong>"<br /><br />My Naniji is the only one whose tastes went beyond the CBSE text books, pole vaulting the immediate allure of <em>veer ras</em> and reached out to the elegance of-<br />"<strong>Vardant ki pangati kunj kali, adhara dhara pallava kholan ki<br />Chapala chamake ghan beech chavi, chavi motin mala amolan ki...</strong>"<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From the recesses of her infinite memory, Naniji brings out poems like artifacts long forgotten. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When she quotes a <em>doha</em> by Kabir, one would think she and Kabir are sharing an inside joke. Infact they are; for more often than not, the person at whom the quip is directed has no clue what it means. Owing to her whole hearted involvement in poetry, Naniji is forbidden from reading the likes of <em>Sudama Charit</em>. This is because by the time she reaches the lines </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"<strong>Dekhi Sudama ki deen dasha, karuna kari ke karunanidhi roye...</strong>", she too is weeping; struck either by the meaning or the alliteration in those lines!<br /><br />Somewhere down the line, I became the pariah in my family; the one to digress not only from Veer Ras, but from Hindi itself. In times when trashy SMS forwards and downmarket orkut updates of the jilted lovers pass off as Urdu poetry, I was trying to quote Zafar and Zauq. Clearly, no one was impressed. In times of instant gratification and adrenaline pumped entertainment, who would sit down to decipher Ghalib? How painful it is to read something as profound as - </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"<strong>Qayamat hai ki hove muddai ka humsafar Ghalib, woh kaafir jo khuda ko bhi na saunpa jaaye hai mujhse</strong>" - and not have anyone to share it with?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In the face of such desperation, the only outlet then is to write. I can't write poetry myself. Prose maybe. Poetry not. It is not for the want of trying. Oh sure I tried! With results like "The lion so fierce, it's claws can pierce." Many a poets have turned in their graves when I have put pen to paper and begun to express my deep thoughts in what aspires to be the third cousin of poetry, twice removed. This is then the blogpost of an avid reader of poetry, who has no one to pass it on to and must therefore subject her blog to it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-65056896558852212052010-04-03T07:46:00.000-07:002012-05-11T15:31:28.753-07:00BE Comp in Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Co-authored by Nair and Upadhyaya (Yeah right. Should people want to bay for the authors' blood, take half of hers too. I didn't do this alone!!)<br />
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</div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-1936246821634314642010-03-21T11:43:00.000-07:002010-03-21T12:11:36.317-07:00Things I do or want to do<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT38xp_0UgRoFwdzT1sLhB48Pn3jRSc5kF-QpC-HtQTDPRTVuSsoYkJZG4_R5UKNZ9pJiys-k15QFVmsRoSg65Z31qXL8YbXq8ekJcc4EuJrBSUgTFlVF9dtI8Vv9MPN-auww495_i7KU/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451160775017824130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT38xp_0UgRoFwdzT1sLhB48Pn3jRSc5kF-QpC-HtQTDPRTVuSsoYkJZG4_R5UKNZ9pJiys-k15QFVmsRoSg65Z31qXL8YbXq8ekJcc4EuJrBSUgTFlVF9dtI8Vv9MPN-auww495_i7KU/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAby9EpesGfVMHmX3IC1I6XZtDAafeEMIPCNvhfZXjDoSuoARxWuEy7AK0FhVBT8fwp6n-kEbTncuTn4bkJzzsIt477an2uR4ONi94OzoUJIZJ69dFhcgcmsOzgaAI6rYhJqNP7nvDYk/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451161012072545074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAby9EpesGfVMHmX3IC1I6XZtDAafeEMIPCNvhfZXjDoSuoARxWuEy7AK0FhVBT8fwp6n-kEbTncuTn4bkJzzsIt477an2uR4ONi94OzoUJIZJ69dFhcgcmsOzgaAI6rYhJqNP7nvDYk/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2TIaLe2hOVueqM9oG78ukQlOrbZeZSlL1DglircNGYdmrBRgJGalKAO5aYltNVQussHxIN-1Do-0n7FQoxRVazWUi-_FmWilDI9QxhMBOP_v-tg5tdAQ2zOxuFJ_O_pzmM_f1fiAj2o/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451162041911906882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2TIaLe2hOVueqM9oG78ukQlOrbZeZSlL1DglircNGYdmrBRgJGalKAO5aYltNVQussHxIN-1Do-0n7FQoxRVazWUi-_FmWilDI9QxhMBOP_v-tg5tdAQ2zOxuFJ_O_pzmM_f1fiAj2o/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH3v-j1_LXs1M8wJ4e5coFIugTtdqEUCICe18mZhyphenhyphen2Yg0Eu3mJFZcza8ir5K1eyOljDp90yTTb5nnolm8LIhOSabCSu4KYtg4JmZX64ltTizp3zpwOdhbP_WxohHzatpGBfn4t0BAVTk/s1600-h/9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451162320872243458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH3v-j1_LXs1M8wJ4e5coFIugTtdqEUCICe18mZhyphenhyphen2Yg0Eu3mJFZcza8ir5K1eyOljDp90yTTb5nnolm8LIhOSabCSu4KYtg4JmZX64ltTizp3zpwOdhbP_WxohHzatpGBfn4t0BAVTk/s400/9.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoZE0L4D4Xe_OdCc8gnYkkfTfWtc9HSk9NDvEQlQaokSWWA7NkBCvCbVy1Gve5L9oqE4_MKvZ1O3Q_rFMTaY79hf79dgizcZb0GoTX3v-NGOMFFcGxM5Z4rOsA3b-fJD0dtviXTSs2u8/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451161497006078578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoZE0L4D4Xe_OdCc8gnYkkfTfWtc9HSk9NDvEQlQaokSWWA7NkBCvCbVy1Gve5L9oqE4_MKvZ1O3Q_rFMTaY79hf79dgizcZb0GoTX3v-NGOMFFcGxM5Z4rOsA3b-fJD0dtviXTSs2u8/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdnQggWMzDYK8uvBQr8t7KZW0YPVJTGa39kjE9RCsRgxtjTxcrzmYSCxm5sEpWKb7PNg63zKj0vw9dX-8U3g7O_xvkJ2FVWLX61EsqjupajIRAuit4Z8jEKMc3RkllCzV53pd_AI2SFQ/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451161254803352690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdnQggWMzDYK8uvBQr8t7KZW0YPVJTGa39kjE9RCsRgxtjTxcrzmYSCxm5sEpWKb7PNg63zKj0vw9dX-8U3g7O_xvkJ2FVWLX61EsqjupajIRAuit4Z8jEKMc3RkllCzV53pd_AI2SFQ/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghUVJKtyhccnnbFzqiGQDZSL3EGx2eLgmsnillHhT41q02nH5BRUdl88Cee53CXsTN2_kvsqEXW6tegYCnwnQX976yZKQ8EoUR4f6-aOcpUeKoLy-V-Y1GfeP1EKGY2SGSnjb6eWgcIYo/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451163279654113122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghUVJKtyhccnnbFzqiGQDZSL3EGx2eLgmsnillHhT41q02nH5BRUdl88Cee53CXsTN2_kvsqEXW6tegYCnwnQX976yZKQ8EoUR4f6-aOcpUeKoLy-V-Y1GfeP1EKGY2SGSnjb6eWgcIYo/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE31Ont3ZnrQ3JWa_otrzLMEmLZoAWQoOSipPoPGY4xg9fM6RYDi7FWjmuAY8F39aF73RbzdAknVmRHmWCelyplYK_9BBvdY0StUqs8ETaP9tffdhjB9Axcp0c1JQ4vlTjq9IGQZ4h5tE/s1600-h/7.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451163879284099826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE31Ont3ZnrQ3JWa_otrzLMEmLZoAWQoOSipPoPGY4xg9fM6RYDi7FWjmuAY8F39aF73RbzdAknVmRHmWCelyplYK_9BBvdY0StUqs8ETaP9tffdhjB9Axcp0c1JQ4vlTjq9IGQZ4h5tE/s400/7.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div></div></div></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-4437921859102114132010-03-08T03:56:00.000-08:002011-02-18T09:28:49.542-08:00The comic book made about my comic book that never got made...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPq04b06TrMfbhEfsjzFWi1phNA8QVYaI68hJ6npC732MEpAjJIUcpHHWxBX6dE9NArdEHcNGTH2clLk8vy193Nvb_jTzPOnxTP8V7vvRW40IbKi9QHJJpURt3j147fNK_dE1DV2ZKWC0/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446234334615416290" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 268px; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPq04b06TrMfbhEfsjzFWi1phNA8QVYaI68hJ6npC732MEpAjJIUcpHHWxBX6dE9NArdEHcNGTH2clLk8vy193Nvb_jTzPOnxTP8V7vvRW40IbKi9QHJJpURt3j147fNK_dE1DV2ZKWC0/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446232812149577186" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 274px; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYCSr5DFllGbsVxMMbVVk2SWsjjn6fGAPSICClMzs9XGxTxz0A0PsFlxr2u41lLScNdYBtbF6zy6xe3i-Tp5D362KA_0HbLa_XU8SnnkneIwYUW6ElM3ya5tIEO5uk0PKRNWKG2UWAeE/s1600-h/4.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7V6udOszV5U3NDQXylDXzmNXo-T2NzhtfCyGdVOceuctJNNUtDahqceecI6ReQ-fbDGQyQaisJVIIzt9wNxmydSrjw3DSoNVuQSleVlDD9Qbq3zkgZW0pSn3chswZdW2iVA9lR1mrRk/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446233098642230370" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 275px; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7V6udOszV5U3NDQXylDXzmNXo-T2NzhtfCyGdVOceuctJNNUtDahqceecI6ReQ-fbDGQyQaisJVIIzt9wNxmydSrjw3DSoNVuQSleVlDD9Qbq3zkgZW0pSn3chswZdW2iVA9lR1mrRk/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYCSr5DFllGbsVxMMbVVk2SWsjjn6fGAPSICClMzs9XGxTxz0A0PsFlxr2u41lLScNdYBtbF6zy6xe3i-Tp5D362KA_0HbLa_XU8SnnkneIwYUW6ElM3ya5tIEO5uk0PKRNWKG2UWAeE/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446233455208058002" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 276px; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYCSr5DFllGbsVxMMbVVk2SWsjjn6fGAPSICClMzs9XGxTxz0A0PsFlxr2u41lLScNdYBtbF6zy6xe3i-Tp5D362KA_0HbLa_XU8SnnkneIwYUW6ElM3ya5tIEO5uk0PKRNWKG2UWAeE/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4C9JoXwHSARHGY4eHFbAC2hmzvMVOBW27TVgwOCRpDahNqzaDqFkBgRcQ-O9VLzQ8lIawOwnb5PfTYLU3JgQ-NornJFqHEdmQ5s4UmzpBuh8iAR4pINPdVxYVFqQVzQz9mVa9P9lP9Vk/s1600-h/2.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-18842430754111207142010-02-28T11:27:00.000-08:002010-02-28T12:42:56.077-08:00Take it with a pinch of salt and a barrel of rum<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It is the night before Holi and I am sitting in my room listening to sad songs, mostly Tamil. Since I don't understand a word of Tamil, I can imagine the lyrics to mean anything I like. This comes in very handy when you want to listen to a sad tragic song describing your situation but cannot find a song that really sums up your trauma.<br /><br />For instance, in my Hindi playlist I could not come up with a song that would convey the pain and tragedy one feels after one's 'Save Water' campaign on Holi has failed and one has to watch 2000 liters of fresh drinking water being poured into a muddy pit for people to frolic in the next day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As the speakers hum plaintively - 'Oh maname, oh maname' from Ullam Ketkume - my fertile imagination sprouts new meaning to the song.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">o manamae </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Oh dear heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> o manamae </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >dear fragile, keep right side up heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> uLLirundhu azhuvadhu yaen? </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >what went wrong with the save water drive?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> o manamae </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >oh easily breakable heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">o manamae </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >oh dear bubble wrap packaged heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> sillu sillaay udaindhadhu yaen? </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >the silly campaign did not work, is it?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> mazhaiyai thaanae yaasithoam </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >2000 liters of fresh chlorinated water</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> kaNNeer thuLigaLai thandhadhu yaar? </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >were you not going to save it this time?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> pookkaL thaanae yaasithoam </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >before it was poured in that 8X8X2 feet ditch</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> kooLaan kaRkaLai eRindhadhu yaar? </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >why did you not cut off the water supply?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It is easy enough if you close your eyes, do not watch the original video and have met a tragedy of similar upset value. It can be a healing process and help ease the pain. Unless of course if you are a film person. In that case, far from healing, you will start mentally editing a montage of visuals from the tragic episode, that best fit the song. You will weave a narrative of your tragedy in a healthy mix of interesting camera angles, cuts and pace.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In my montage I also like to include what could have happened. Just now I imagine jumping into that water filled pit from the 2nd floor with a loud crash. As the crowd runs for cover, some foolish ones stay back to challenge the say of an environmentalist who can kick butt too! Then I kick their butt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There is an alternative emotional resolution too, in which I slash my arm and let blood trickle into the watery pit and proclaim - "Duniyawalon, yeh paani nahi; kisi ka khoon hai jo beh kar yahan aata hai. Aur aaj is khoon ke saath mera khoon bhi bahega". At this point people are already weeping and some of them give me a hug. Then we turn off the taps and celebrate a dry holi.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My favourite is the one where I dress up in black fitting combat gear, make blueprints in secrecy, train for a while then sneak into the municipal water tank. Here I cut off the water supply to the city for the whole week and bring poetic justice. Tadaaaaa! This one did not fit in with the sad theme of the song but I liked its radical angle anyhow.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sadly like every song, this one too came to an end; and so did my random musings. In an unprecedented act of learning by example, I stepped out of the fancy world of my montage and drew the following conclusion. Change is not instant noodles. People will resist it. People will reason with it. People will, one day, adopt it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Snap out of that sad song playlist. Get out of the fictitious montage making. There is work to be done, change to be brought. Happy Holi</span>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8514177067378658990.post-62284060338847119362010-02-28T11:08:00.000-08:002010-02-28T11:16:56.263-08:00Fact as fact is<div id=":ya" class="ii gt"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >On August 23, 2002, a huge crowd gathered on the bridges of Ahmedabad to witness the swirling waters of Narmada soaking up the bone dry Sabarmati river bed in its embrace. The dry, dead and decomposing Sabarmati was only a monsoon river, a convinient sewage line at the most. As an expensive system of dams and canals guzzled 3000 cubic ft. of water per second into the ailing Sabarmati, Ahmedabad suddenly had a perennial river. As ground water recharged and the river swelled, Ahmedabad now had more water than it could drink. And that is how we forgot.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >We forgot that the original intention of the Narmada canal was to irrigate and feed areas as far as Northern Gujarat and Kutch. Kutch, Mehasana, Banaskantha, Patan, Surendranagar continue to face acute water shortage and aridity. Standing at the fag end of the Narmada canal distribution system, they are deprived of water that was brought down keeping these very regions in mind.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >Seats of urban power like Vadodra, Ahmedabad, Rajkot, Jamnagar continue to quench their infinite thirst. Today, the capital hardly feels the misery of living in an arid state as maintaining the illusion of abundance is essential to keep the real estate boom going. ‘Scarcity’ and ‘Want’ do not feature well in a state striving to be the pinup-girl of developing India. It is ironical that the supreme court gave the Narmada project a clearance on the desperate plea that Gujarat is a dry and arid desert.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >It was only in 1999-2000, that Gujarat suffered a severe drought where 25 million people were affected; that figure is close to 50% of the states’ population. Severe confrontations on rural vs. urban dwellers broke out in parts of Rajkot and Jamnagar. But post Narmada, those horrors have been forgotten or brushed under the carpet. The AMC continues to permit more and more real estate to develop, even as the state can barely cater to the existing demands for water. The citizens in an amazing feat of collective amnesia help live this myth.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >In rural areas, drinking water is still being supplied via tankers and trucks. For irrigation, over exploitation of groundwater has seen the water table in these regions falling at the rate 6 meters per year. Small farmers cannot afford to dig bore-wells as deep as 250 feet when they started out with a 40 feet well. Not ones to give up, well drillers are now using oil drilling technology to go as far down as 1 Km. for groundwater. As the groundwater is sucked dry, the soil becomes more and more saline and therefore unfit for agriculture.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >The government plans to spend 8500 crores to help 8215 villages get water. You and I could relieve the government exchequer of this immense load by saving a little water ourselves.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >In Ahmedabad, as in the rest of India, gray water (bathing, cooking etc.) is not recovered. Mixed with black water (sewage from toilets), it is dumped into Sabarmati. Water is heavy. Lifting it up deep from bore-wells, uses up a sizeable amount of electricity. Wasting this water in Holi, car washing, garden run-off is a gross wastage of electricity.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" >Today the state is fighting a tough battle to get the height of Sardar Sarovar Dam increased to 138 metres. If fully constructed, so water can finally reach Kutch and North Gujarat, the SSP<span> </span>will submerge 37,000 hectares of forest and agricultural land as well as the homes of at least 250,000 people. Today as you waste that one drop of water, remember, this water has reached you after displacing the lives of nameless, faceless men. The least you can do is, not throw it in each others faces.</span></p> </div>Sonali Upadhyayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01993819537153673161noreply@blogger.com0