....continuation of talk on love

After my last post on love, i had a discussion with a close friend Tincy. I shared with her my ideas of love. She came up with a beautiful poem which I thought i should share. The poem has no title.

Love to me is more than just 4 letter word

Love to me is more than a relationship dat one shares wid someone near

Love to me as pure as dew

Wat love means to me i guess known by very few

Love to me is a feelin beyond one can see or imagine

Love to me is like north and south poles of a magnet inseparable

Love to me is the joy that fills the farmer seeing his crop grow

Love to me is the first drops of rain after a hot day plough

Love to me is the happy joy of enjoying my day's first bony

Love to me is waiting like a kid for the last bell to go off..

Love to me is sweet taste of going home after a war for a soldier

Love to me as small and simple yet so complex in itself

Love to me is u me and we...

Love is in the air

Love is in the air, is what one would believe by seeing the Indian movies. All movies are centered around people falling in love. I'm not complaining, but I'm sad at the fact that the word 'love' has been truncated into a very specific relation between a girl and a boy. Why can't movie makers see other forms of love, I always wondered? Then came Iqbal, a movie based on love of a boy towards a game. It was a refreshing change for Indian audience I feel. It was like a breath of fresh air. We now had a movie, which had a completely new relation of love. More refreshing was the fact that it also showed love between a male and a female in a new form, that of between a brother and sister. And it was very well shown too. Seeing Iqbal and his sister, I felt if this movie is about Iqbal's love for cricket or is it about brother sister relation.

Coming off the movies into the real life, people on the campus also seem to be falling in love. There is of course the 'usual' love of opposite sexes, but I can see other forms of it as well. One cricket team left their match unfinished to make way for the football team to use the ground. I too am in Love. I'm falling in love with the buses of Hyderabad. These buses have lady conductors, who manage the bus very well. There is also an unsaid, unwritten understanding between passengers, that the one who has a seat to himself will hold the bags of those who are standing. I was told by one such passenger to give my bag to someone who has a seat. I smiled and declined the offer, saying my bag was heavy, and it may not be too fair for someone to hold such a heavy bag.

So how is one form of love different from other?? Is it fair, to use the term 'love' for all such forms, or should love be restricted only to one form of relation? How do I know when I'm in love? These questions have troubled me for long time now and I still don't have a definitive answer. For me, I fall in love almost each day. And I've been doing that for some years now. And I feel happy after each time I'm in love. Recently I told a friend I fell in Love with a muslim guy in the train with whom I had a discussion on Islam. His first reaction was, are you gay?? That was probably the worst possible reply I sought, though expected.

trip to home:part IV Discussion on Islam

On my way back, I had the train reservation from Delhi to Hyderabad. Mom and Mausi ji had come to see me off at the station, and this time I had an extra bag. A bag of food, which I was suppose to eat during the journey. Indian moms are very peculiar of not allowing their children go hungry, no matter how old have they become.
The train on way back was crowded too. People were returning after the diwali. In our column of 8 berths there was an RAC (reservation against cancellation, where one seat is shared by two passengers). And so, it meant there would be 9 people traveling, with 2 sharing one berth and rest seven having a berth to oneself. Soon we realized, that one passenger who had half a seat had 2 more friends traveling with him. So they were 3 people traveling on half a seat. Then there was another girl who had a waiting list, and was traveling along with her friend on her berth. So in all, in a column of 8 we had 12 people traveling. I could not again help and smile. Another fun trip, I thought. Of us 12 people, three were young muslims (traditionally dressed muslims). All three of them were crammed up in half the seat they had.
They were coming from a place called deoband near town of Muzzafarnagar in Western U.P.
Deoband is infamous for its pro Pakistan stance. It is rumored, that muslims there are very orthodox, and favor the Pakistani team in every cricket match. All this made me curious to start a conversation with these young men. I found it very difficult to interact with them. It was like they were not interested in any conversation. I could only know, that they actually belong to Gorakhpur and had been studying arabic in deoband. They were now headed for Hyderabad, for some advanced course. They also told me, after this they plan to apply for a job of interpretor in some gulf country. They also told me, that there is no concept of fee in the madrasa they studied. Madrasas around the country run on donations and charge nothing or minimal from its students.

The next day at noon our train reached Nagpur and I was woken up by one of the muslim guy. He told me it's Nagpur and if I wanted to buy something from the station. I smiled and said thank you. From Nagpur we were joined by 2 more muslim men. They didn't have a reservation, and maybe came to our column seeing the other muslims. So now we were 14 people traveling in a column of 8. Of the two, one was a young handsome, religious muslim, while the other was an elderly man (his father I thought). I offered my berth to them to sit and also keep their luggage. The next few hours were going to be very enriching for me. With this young muslim I had a discussion on teachings of Islam and through it I got my first insight on the religion. All through the discussion I was been very careful of not to digress from my motive of discussion. My motive was to understand what Islam preaches and not to prove anything. Although at times I did get into an argument mode, but was quick to get back into the listening mode. And as a result we had a great discussion. The following are a few points I earned out of it.
a) Islam starts with having an unquestionable, unshakable faith in god (referred to as allah). One can not question the existance of god. GOD IS THERE. AND THERE IS ONE GOD. why we cannot question god is answered in terms of limitations of a human being.
b) it's god which made man, for the purpose of praying. So purpose of life of every man is to submit himself totally to god and pray (ibadad karna).
c) Once in the path of god, there is always a danger of being misled by the demon (shaitan). For a normal man, it's not possible to know whether he is on the path of god or demon, as they may look the same. And so it becomes essential to a man to love and fear god at the same time (allah se muhabbat aur allah ka khauff).
d) the greatest vice which god gave to man was nafs (ambition, khwaish). if one follows ones ambition one is likely to digress from god's path. and so 100% devotion is required to god. Even 99% will not do. One is not suppose to one's head, but just submit oneself to god.
e) so what is the symptom of someone who is completely devoted to god? God loves, the one who is completely devoted to him. one who is loved by god, is loved by everyone. and so the most common symptom is love (muhabbat). he is loved by everyone, and he loves everyone.
f) how important is symbolism? how does it matter of what i wear, of how i choose to pray, if i keep a beard or not, if i'm on the path shown by god? All this is important for one so that they remind one constantly of god. normally people are not mentally strong enough to be 100% devoted all the time, and so these symbols act only as supportive system. for someone who is into god totally, these symbols are no issues.
g) most religious muslim youth are reserved to themselves, because they feel the outside world is getting polluted by modernism and so its important for them not to let themselves distracted.
h) muslim parents send their kids to madrasas not for jobs, but to make a good human out of them. A good human is one who loves everyone and is loved by everyone (muhabbat), who moves on the path of god.
In this sense somewhere our hindu parents have faltered I believe. Our parents are now more interested in making us successful in life, and the good human being has taken a back seat. Most important is to be successful, being a good human at the cost of success is considered foolish now.

In our entire conversation, this young boy was very careful in his choice of words. He never used the word allah, but only god. He stressed on muhabbat (love) time and again. It was one the best conversations i've had in life.

Hyderabad came at 9pm, and we shook hands before leaving.

trip to home:part III In Delhi

I reached home on Tuesday morning, after 2 days of what had been the most memorable trip.
I told every detail of it to mom and nani. They were very happy to see me back.

It is Diwali time. It's time for loads of sweets.But this time there were less sweets. It seems, a few days ago, the police had caught tons of synthetic khoya (the main ingredient of most of the sweets). This khoya was made not from milk, but from urea and even surf. So finally they realize what we have been saying for some years now, I thought. And so this time, more people were giving dry fruits as gifts and not sweets. Some were even giving chocolates and pepsi as gifts. Diwali in truely modern sense I guess. Thats the latest trend, the shopkeeper told me.

Ours was gladly still a not so modern Diwali. We gave dry fruits along with Kheel and Patasha (the original and cheapest and cleanest diwali gift). Most of India still celebrates with kheel patasha and diyas.

Diwali also means, meeting up with people many people whom we didn't meet in the entire year.Old family friends.Old memories. Aunties and uncles telling us what we did as kids. Remembering the old times. Thanking each other for being there always, in toughest times and also good times. I always wished if we have more such festivals like these, so that we can meet more often.

A major part of my 5 day stay at home went in meeting people and distributing diwali gifts. In between India played 2 matches against Pakistan. We won one and lost one.

It was sunday, time to return back to Hyderabad

trip to home:part II Nagpur city and Manoj

While in the bus, one of the passengers had told me about a dharamshala, where I could change and take bath in just ten rupees. After coming out of the Nagpur bus station I signaled to a rickshaw walla. Pretending to be a local, I asked him with confidence "tanga stand"? He nodded and said 30 rupees. I pretended to be shocked (as if I knew what the correct fare would be). I moved on. He then shouted "achcha 25 rupees". I kept moving away from him, towards another rickshaw walla. He then held my hand, "achcha give 20 rupees, it is boney time." Boney is the first income of the day, and it sets the trend for the day to come. I agreed, being happy in me that I bargained good 10 rupees and was not fooled this time (I get fooled on usual occasions).
Off went the rickshaw, through the narrow lanes of Nagpur. I was beginning to like the city. It was almost 9.30 am, but the shops were still closed, the roads were still deserted. It seemed people here are not in a rush. It seemed a laid back city, much the way I like. The rickshaw kept moving for 20 min now. Where the hell is tanga stand i thought. It sure was far from the bus station. 3o rupees weren't too much after all. I gave him 30 rupees on reaching tanga stand. He asked me if i could also sponsor him a tea. I did happily, another 2 rupees. So was I fooled again this time? ah, I don't care if I was.
I found a jain dharamshala there, where in 25 rupees i could use their facilities to freshen up. Nagpur is like Haridwar of Maharashtra. It's a hindu religious place, and so there are a lot of dharamshalas. The next was a roadside poha I had .Yummy!!. Nothing like anything I've had before. I then took a bus to the railway station, from where I would get my train at 4pm. The city buses are pretty spacious and well maintained in Nagpur.

I reached station at 12 noon, and decided the spend the rest of time there, seeing the trains leave. Nagpur is the central most city of India, and so one can get train for every direction. I was sitting on a raised platform seeing the trains, the people, the coolies. Next to me was a young boy, Manoj. He was 12 years old and was going home to Gorakhpur. He was probably the only one not traveling to celebrate Diwali but for other reasons. The following the conversation I had with Manoj over the next 4 hours.
M: bhaiya gorakhpur ki gaadi isi platform par aayegi
Me: Mujhe nahi pata, waha dekho us par likh ke aayega (pointing towards the electronic display)
M: mujhe padna nahi aata. aap dekh ke batao
Me: (after looking at the display) haan isi par aayegi shaam ko 5 baje
....................quiet period.......................
M: jab train aayegi to aap mujhe bata dena
Me: meri train to 4 baje hai, tum chinta mat karo isi platform pe aayegi
M: main subah waali gaadi chhod chuka hu. mujhe bahut tej bukhar hai. train mein bahut bheed thi, main chad hi nahi paaya. ab yeh last train hai gorakhpur ki.
(I touched his hand. He did have fever)
....................quiet period.......................
M: aap kaha jaa rahe ho?
Me: dilli
M: gorakhpur se dilli ki gaadi to mil jaati hogi??
(it seemed as if he was suggesting i go along with him to gorakhpur and then catch a train to delhi)
(I didnt know how to respond to the question)
....................quiet period.......................
Me: tumhe gorakhpur se aage bhi kahi jaana hai
M:haan ,naugarh. gorakhpur se chhoti line hai naugarh ki.
Me: naugarh to nepal border pe hai na?
M: haan (seemed a little excited, as if saying ah here is someone who has heard of naugarh)
Me: pahad hai waha?
M: nahi pahad nahi hai, lekin chhapre se pahad dikh jaate hai
(i had no idea what chhapra was.maybe some place)
Me:hmm....nadi hai waha?
M: haa hai
Me: kya naam hai?
M: us nadi ka koi naam nahi hai. sarkari nadi hai
(he was probably referring to a canal)
....................quiet period.......................
Me: Nagpur kaam karne aaye the??
M: haan, sheet banata tha.2 mahine pahle aaya tha
Me:sheet??
M: haan sheet (pointing towards the roof. he was referring to asbestos sheet which are used in ceilings).
Me: to ghar kyun jaa rahe ho??
M: mujhe bukhar hai ek mahine se.tabiyat bahut kharaab hai.
....................quiet period.......................
M: aap jaante hai is bukhaar ko? ek din chhod ke aata hai. bahut tez chadta hai
Me: bukhar ke time sharir kaapta bhi hai??
M: haan bahut kaapta hai
Me: tum jaha rehte ho, waha machchar hai??
M: haan bahut machchar hai
(malaria i thought. poor kid)
Me:tumhara naam kya hai?
M:manoj
....................quiet period.......................
Me: ghar kuch kama ke le jaa rahe ho ya khaali haath??
M: jo kamaya tha bhaiya, woh bukhaar mein lag gaya.ab mere paas sirf 50 rupees hai
Me: ticket le liya train ka?
M: haa le liye
(he showed me the ticket.i then explained him what all the ticket says)
....................quiet period.......................
Me: ghar mein kaun hai tumhare
M: pitaji hai aur do bahan hai.
(no mother)
Me: pitaji kya karte hai
M: kabadi hai
(income not more that1000-1500 per month i thought)
Me:bahano ki shaadi ho gayi??
M: haan, dono ki ho gayi
(thank god i thought. to marry one's daughters is a huge responsibility in this part of the world, and poor people find it very hard).
Me: to matlab ab tumhari baari hai shaadi ki (i said this with a smile)
M: nahi mein to abhi 12 saal ka hi hu (his expression never changed. no smile.)
....................quiet period.......................
....................quiet period.......................
M: bhaiya, mujhe kaha gaya train mein log samaan loot lete hai. aisa to nahi hota hoga na??
(here was a young boy, who still believed in the world. who thought why would anyone steal my luggage?i didnt know how to respond to his question. i didn't want to break this faith which very few people have now)
Me: nahi aisa to kuchch nahi hota.darne waali koi baat nahi hai.tum apne bag ke upar hi baith jana.
(i then told him about the announcements being made in the station.i wanted to teach him to understand the announcements so that he would know when his train is announced.soon i realised it was really difficult for him to concentrate on each announcement. i then told me he could go to any coolie dressed in red and ask them.coolies have all the information. after all this, he still wasn't confident enough, and wanted me to stay till his train comes. i tried to explain i can't as my train was announced and i had to leave. it was one of those moments when i hated being practical).
(my train came.i had to go. i took out 100 rupee note and gave it to him.)
Me: yeh rakho, raste mein kuch khaa lena.bhooke pet mat jaana
(he looked at me, not saying a word and holding the note in his hand)
Me: is note ko andar ki pocket mein rakh le. ise kharch mat karna. 50 ke note ko kharch karna
(he kept it inside his pocket. there was a man sitting next to us, who wondered what is happening).

I got on my train.

My nani (grandmother) always says, if one gives water to a thirsty man, or food to hungry man, or guides a lost man, then he gives best wishes from his heart (uski aatma se dua nikalti hai).

trip to home:part I The bus ride

With the festival of Diwali coming I decided to make a quick trip to home. Diwali and Holi are two festivals which most people want to celebrate with their families and I was one such person. Diwali is the celebration of Lord Ram coming back home after defeating the demon Ravan and rescuing Sita from him.It's difficult for me to imagine that the whole nation moves on Diwali to celebrate the event which the ASI says 'has no historical proof'. I'm sure even the ASI officials would celebrate this not so real event.
Anyways, so I was one of the many many Indians and decided to go home. At this time it is usually to get a train ticket. I couldn't get a ticket from Hyderabad, but managed to get one from Nagpur which is about 500km from Hyderabad.So my plan was to take a bus from Hyderabad to Nagpur on Sunday evening. I would then reach Nagpur next day morning, and then catch the train to Delhi in the evening and reach Delhi on Tuesday morning.
My bus started at 6 pm from Hyderabad. It was Maharashtra state government vehicle and as expected quite rickety. We were 5 passengers in all, and the conductor was happy to see us. He was happy to see so many people going to Nagpur.It seems the Diwali rush is starting, he said. This is no rush, just 5 passengers I thought. And so we started, each one having the entire three seat room.
The road was nothing great. I've seen better roads in north. Soon one of the rear tires got punctured. They found it to be the inner tire and so thought it's safe to carry on with the journey. After 4 hours of bumpy ride, we reached Nizamabad, where atleast 80-100 people were waiting for this bus, all heading for Nagpur. Just as the bus dared to enter the bus station, all of them attacked it, wanted to get in from any possible entry, the door being only one of the possible entry points. The others were ofcourse the windows (including the driver window). We were all shocked inside, not knowing what had struck us. The driver and conductor abandoned the bus and vanished only to return after 20 min, when every inch of the bus was occupied. There were people everywhere. All seats occupied. The pathway occupied. Some even sat on top of the seat, such that their head would touch the ceiling. In such a crowd, people carry their chappals in hand rather than wearing them. The chappals would not survive the onslaught. The seat next to me was taken by an old couple. I asked why so much of rush today? "Everyone going home for Diwali", she replied.
All these people were labourers who belonged to place called Gondia in the state of M.P in central India. There are two distinct features about labourers when they travel. One, they always travel together in large groups, leaving no one behind. Here it seemed it was the entire village on the move, each passenger seemed related to the other. I could figure this out, as they all seemed to know each other and addressed each other as chacha or tai (uncle or aunt). It must be real fun to go on holiday together with everyone I thought. The other feature being, they carry all their belongings when they move. So I'm not only talking about clothes here, but everything. Few of them carried bicycles (which were placed on top of the bus), there were others carrying buckets. One such requested me if I could carry his bucket on lap,assuring me it was not heavy and he could not fit it into the shelf meant to keep the luggage. I gladly accepted his bucket. In it i could see a kadai and karchi (a bowl and stirrer used for cooking). Seeing all this I couldn't help but smile. It was like a great Indian safari for me. A true picture of how India travels.
As the bus moved, I opened the window and a nice cool breeze hit me. We were passing through the telangana region of Andhra Pradesh, and would enter the Vidarbh region in Maharashtra. These regions have been in news in recent years for their poverty and farmer suicides. The sky was clear and I had a good view of the moon. As the bus moved northward, the road became from bad to worse. And with so many people inside, no one could move an inch. We all had to maintain a statue for next 10 hours. The only space we had was to move out eyelid.
Then suddenly, a suitcase fell from the shelf.It was a big bag and so could not fit in properly. With each bump, it would inch out and then finally fell down. It fell on a man's head who was sitting under that shelf. He was raged. without asking to whom did it belonged, he just opened the window and threw out the suitcase.WHAM!! "HEY WHAT THE @#$%",shouted someone from the back."BUS ROKO,BUS ROKO" (stop the bus). Then followed a series of arguments, others laughing at the situation (I being one of them). The bag was collected and the bus moved again.
As the night progressed it became cold. I was thinking about the flat tire. I was thinking if the bus would last the entire journey. Well it did. We reached Nagpur at 9 am, good 3 hours behind schedule. Everyone had been waiting for this moment. We were all holding onto our various pressures very patiently, and it was a big relief to know we have reached.