Moments that never pass

Some memories are strangely precious because even in the pain that they cause they are dear to us.
we just can't let them go as they are our last and only link with some of the most loved persons whom we will never see again.

Time is forever on the move....or so they say....
But we ceaselessly attempt to hold some moments close to our heart.
Frozen in time, they give us warmth whenever we go back to them.

Parents are one's best support in difficult times. They fight with the whole world  resiliently for their children and never ever complain of the injury it causes to their soul. My parents too stood behind me like a rock, not bothering what the world was saying after my husband expired prematurely.

My father even left his prestigious overseas assignments with TCS to come and stay in Allahabad and help me look after my late husband's business after his relatives turned hostile and the business was into a huge debt....
Those were terribly tough times....my children in classes four and eight ....and my in-laws ready to take me and my minor children to court (which they eventually did) over my husband's assets.

My father suffered his first heart problem there....  one of the best cardiologist in Lucknow examined him.... prescribed some tests , which he did not bother to undergo....naturally thinking that his health problems were related to situational stress and age, and that it could not be anything serious.
"These specialist have a habit of making a mountain out of an ant-hill" he would say.

Later after much of the ordeal was over  and we had just shifted to Mumbai, he had to be hospitalised. The doctors informed us  that his heart was failing.
It left  the family utterly shocked, but everyone knew of his fighting spirit.
It had been  his destiny to take the path less-travelled . Even professionally he had been forever entrusted with responsibilities that others, much senior to him would not touch. But God had gifted him with a wonderful smile, that came from his innocent heart, and he always succeeded in winning his toughest adversary.
 
But this time he was up against the strongest adversary that there could be.
Destiny itself.

Gradually his condition  deteriorated. Yet  none of us ever imagined he was going away.....
Till the end it was like "he'll be ok", he has been always so strong, has been there for everyone , family members knew he was the dependable one.....
But he had to hospitalised  a second time. And this time too he came back home although not very strong, but fairly well.

Then he started moving about slowly, sitting on the sofa or in the chair listlessly. Then the movements began to stop. He seemed to be at peace lying in bed, not wanting much....at times he seemed too lethargic even to get up for food. And then his voice began to choke.

But all this never for a moment  prepared us for his end.
We took him to the hospital, confident once again of his astounding will power .
So muchh so that when the attending doctor in the ICU called me in to inform that the ventilator is not helping and  its only a matter of some minutes now, I just stared in her face blankly .... dazed and numb....not believeing her even for a second, I started arguing with the doctor trying hard to prove her wrong....!!!

I still remember  my dearest father's face....his seemingly "comfortable" posture .... that subtle hint of acknowledgement as I greeted him that last time.........I'm not sure if he was trying to say something....but yes! his eyes, very wide and unblinking had a lot of concern in them.....concern for the unresolved issues of my life, concern for my children's future.......
He still had so much to do.....but he was going away.......
Prematurely indeed !!!!!
It was so completely impossible for me to believe that I was seeing him for the last time.........

My husband's death had devastated  my children and me. But my parents' support and  sacrifice had seen us through  those shattering times.....
Now life for us was changing again....... it really is never the same .....how can it ever be............ time is always on the move......and so is life......

But some moments never pass.

Dearest "Bootler"! We will miss you

"Bootler" finally rests in peace.

His controversial and rather dictatorial existence at my parents' home, which was nothing short of a cold war (between his sympathisers and opponents) has come to an end. And I am left with  mixed feelings.
While it is a relief to see his suffering come to an end, it also now seems like the loss of a dear one.

"Bootler" usually managed to antagonise everyone except my elder brother and his family, specially my younger nephew who was so totally devoted to this innocent-looking chicken from the moment it landed in their third-floor apartment as a gift from a well wisher.

As a chick "Bootler" was very cute, all pearly white and oh-so-lovable. And as he moved about unhindered, he resembled a small round ball of feathers making its way playfully around the spacious apartment. That is how he got the name "Bootler" ( my brother's rather strange  coinage for "someone short " )
"Bootler" soon became the most sought-after "toy" and every child who visited my parents' place wanted to spend time with him, feed him, play with him....
In fact some children accompanied their moms only on the condition that they would be allowed to play with "Bootler".

He was a wonderful flyer...and that was one magnificent sight : to see him in flight...perfect and almost ethereal !!!
Often while searching for food among the plants he would fly over to the pine trees in the near-by park....or hide among the folliage of the mango tree  that the neighbour patronised.
But come evening, and he was sincerely back home.

I am sure "Bootler" enjoyed all that attention.  I have not studied animal psychology, but it is  my strong apprehension that the popularity bloated his little head. He was growing up well physically, but his manners were taking a dip. He started pouncing on the children who so affectionately tried to caress his plumage. At times he would sting them with his claws or his hard sharp beak.
He grew big and shall I say a bit scary....
And then there came a time when he had to be left alone on the terrace of the building all through the day and brought back to keep in captivity through the night.

But this did not deter my younger nephew who became even more fond of "Bootler", devoting every minute of his spare time looking after the now lonely "Bootler". Feeding him, shampooing his abundant mass of off-white feathers, cleaning his dwelling and so much more.
They graduated from being the best of friends  to becoming soul mates .

Like the Sun that rises, comes to a glorious peak and then slowly sets down, "Bootler" too began sinking in time. The first signs of deterioration came with a bulge in his leg. He lost his gait. Then he began to loose his balance.  His pearly white ferthers became muddy in colour. His comb crumpled and faded. He could hardly move.
And when my nephew picked him up, all one saw was a mass of muddy feathers. Even the head was not visible most of the time.

One could not help but feel sorry for  "Bootler", and forgive the dear-little-terror that he had once-upon-a-time been.
And then his suffering became  unbearably painful. My nephew and his mother literally prayed for him and were still praying by his side when "Bootler" breathed his last.

Now he rests in peace.
But will surely be missed for a long time.

Off The Camera

Aseem Chhabra in his column titled "More than Meets the eye"  in Mumbai Mirror Sunday (20/05/2012) says "The picture of an angry SRK at Wankhede Stadium may not represent the complete picture".
He also mentions in his writeup that he cannot forget something London based writer and filmmaker Nasreen Munni Kabir had said to him.
She had in fact said in Urdu: "Shah Rukh bahot shareef aadmi hai"

Chhabra ji himself has met SRK on several occasions and has been impressed with the earnestness displayed by the superstar.

Well, I am inclined to believe Nasreen ji and Chhabra ji.. But the generosity , the kindness, the earnestness...whatever....

could be an act carried out brilliantly by the actor for the media.
Nasreen ji was making documenteries "The Inner/Outer World of Shah Rukh Khan" and so it was quite natural for SRK to be putting on his best for her.
Ditto for Aseem Ji.

 

But I had to pause in the midst of my critical analysis of the "aaj-ka---Raa.One-ish-father-

guardian" behaving so irresponsibly at  Wankhede Stadium.

Yesterday afternoon the late Ajit Saheb's daughter-in-law narrated a seemingly trivial anecdote as we sat chatting after a late Sunday brunch. Pondering over it again and again I think there could well be more than meets the eye.

It seems Ajit Saheb was taking a stroll along the Band Stand area  one morning when a car stopped politely near him.
Not really taking much notice he kept his comfortable pace inhaling the salty sea breeze.

 

There from behind him came a dew-fresh Shah Rukh. He greeted Ajit Saheb with a bow, asking for his blessings, and not forgetting to mention how happy he was to see the senior actor.
Ajit Saheb had at that time retired from films and in fact shifted to Hyderabad, visiting Mumbai only occasionally.
Needless to say Ajit Saheb was very impressed with Shah Rukh's humility and courtesy.
 

Therefore Ajit Saheb's daughter-in-law cannot figure out why SRK would turn so arrogant at a pulic place, risking his well-groomed image, under the hostile glare of scores of cameras. He is a superstar, an extremely gifted entertainer and a completely devoted family man.
Why would he go out of his way to spoil his image in the eyes of his fans?

Being nice to Ajit Saheb had come naturally to SRK. It was neither for the media to write how abbsolutely respectful SRK was, nor was it to ask for any favour from Ajit Saheb. It was truly and selflessly for the gratification of his own soul.

So is there really something more than meets the eye....????

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Okay guys! I've shared this information not because I want to stand solidly behind SRK (I'm sure he can stand on his own much like a rock!!! ) but because I'm a big show-off and I want people to know of my friendship with Ajit Saheb's family :)) !!!!!
 

 

 

 

Glamourised Suffering

The Nation is raving about "Satyamev Jayate". Aamir Khan's latest drama.
From fairly intelligent, respectful intellectuals to ordinary school drop-out taxi-drivers, everyone wants to register their views and shower the actor with praises.

I am sorry Aamir Khaan Saheb. You still fail to charm me. Not that it matters to you. But then you don't matter to me either. A man who  sermons on social behaviour for a huge fee does not make  a perfect  social crusader ... I can't help but pity the innocence of the masses who seem to love the glamourisation of serious issues like female foeticide and child sexual abuse because the presence of Aamir Khan is doing only that much : Glamorisation of pain

People are generally delighted to see Aamir Khaan on their TV screens, the channel is happy with the TRPs. The Nation listens to horrific experiences of the victims along with Aamir. And this is not all. Sridevi arrives to grace Aamir's show ( how much does she charge for this we would not know  ) to fulfill the wish of a victim....What a special treat this is.... !!!!
The programme gets over. Everyone goes out of their way  praising Aamir !!!!!!!
 And Satyamev Jayate is now available as Airtel Hello tune.

FB and Twitter is abuzz with the details of how Aamir carried himself and  what will the topic of his episode ..... and of course th producers of the show know that it better be more "masala" filled than the previous one ....  Can there be a better example of ruthless  indifference to human suffering ....a more insulting injury to the souls that are already so deeply scarred...?????

We have already proved ourselves to be politically irreparably dumb and now we are proving  beyond doubt to be shamefully inhuman too.
.....................................................................................................................................................................

PS :
This was some time back .... Now the show is back .... And National Elections are not far .... Lets see what is for sale this time ....

The Divine Saviour

The old Bombay-Poona Road is now thankfully less frequented. But till a few years ago it used to be fatigued and over-burdened with traffic. On its either side, just as it begins the climb up the Western Ghats lies a luxuriously sprawling residential colony. The place where I spent a beautiful part of my carefree childhood.

Imposing stone bungalows with large french windows and huge doors. High ceilings and open verandahs. Vastly spread-out lawns and colourful flower-beds. The bright golden sunrises and the dusky orange sunsets. Monsoons filled with misty grey clouds , romantic green valleys and mountains and the aroma of adrak-waali-chaai
It was a dreamland.

Schools were about two kilometers down in Khopoli or a few kilometers up in Khandala.
Most families preferred the school in  Khopoli, which ran in two shifts.
Morning and Afternoon.
And two languages : English and Marathi.

The Company bus made school trips to facilitate the residents. My mother was a teacher in the English medium school.
She and my younger siblings used to go for the morning shift.

One morning Mummy was waiting with her twins at their usual spot for the bus under the huge Old Peepal Tree, near the Gol Park a little away from  the edge of the road. Traffic on the Bombay-Poona Road was picking up as the morning got brighter. Swift and slick cars smartly moving past the heavily loaded trucks labouriously making way to reach their destinations.

Perhaps she had seen the bus coming because Mummy moved away taking the children along from where they had been standing, reaching closer to the place where the bus was supposed to stop. They had not taken much note of the truck that was coming down a little faster than the rest of the vehicles, till it nose-dived crashing into the boundary of the Gol Park under the Peepal Tree.

Dazed to numbness the three of them stood motionless as the the truck-driver and his companion struggled to get themselves out avoiding the broken pieces of glass. Ignoring their own bruises they straightened themselves. And then the driver spoke.
He said: "As the brakes failed and I lost control, I saw you all standing exactly on the spot where I knew my vehicle would collide ... had no way of cautioning you ... the only option was to ask God's help ..."
And then I saw you move away with kids ... Oh! My God ... what a relief that was... !!! "
To say it in his words:
"Eishwar hain ... aur wo hi bachatey hain ..."
Yes he could have honked incessantly, but he admitted that it did not strike him !!!!!

Miracles were not the privilege of Prophets alone
They happen even today with prayer and will power 🙏

(Me ... Many years later ... at the spot where Mummy and my siblings were standing that morning ... Pic clicked by my sister ... It was actually she who was with Mummy at this place that day 😊 )

Lamhey

Guzartey lamho'n par jo achanak nazar padi
Thithak gaye,  rukk gaye hum  chaltey chaltey

Har lamha yahan bas ek lamhe ka hai mehmaan
Jaaney waale pe koi zor nahi aaney waale se zindgi anjaan

Ye safar jis ko zindgi kaha hum ne
Lamha-lamha martey huay lamho'n ka janaza sa lagti hai

Wo lamha jo haath se phisal gaya, gaya sadaa ke liye
To kya milay gi zindgi jo khud phisaltey huay lamhon se hai bani


By Sahila

Naa-ummid si ek Ummid

Ummid thi ke shaaed uss bheed mein
Naqaabon ke parey koi apna hoga

Koi aisa jis ki ek jhalak ke liye maano sadiyon se
Dil yun tadpa hai ke jaise koi na kabhi tadpa hoga

Beqaraar si nazrein talaash karti rahiin baarha uss ko
Na jaane kahan hoga wo, kis haal mein hoga, kaisa hoga

Yaad karta bhi hai mujh ko kabhi ya ke phir bhool gaya
Wo tha aisa hi, magar main ne ye samjha tha ke mera hoga

Saal dar saal karvaan e ziist chal to raha hai bin uss ke
Phir bhi ek aas lagi hai ke agar mil jaaye kisi roz to kaisa hoga......

(By Shazia)