Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Shubha Raatri
Angane Veendum oru Divasam koodi Vidavangi ..
Kootukar ellavarum swantham kootileku madangi..
Veendum ee rathtriyil njaan ekaanthanayi
Aayiram murivetta ee hurdhayam thengi thengi
Ariyathey etho swapna lokathil nidraviheelanai
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Religion Column in our Application Forms
" Should Govt. remove the religion column from application forms at all levels of enrollment or inquiry??"
To strengthen his point he cited the plight of the parent who had an inter-religion marriage and now were in dilemma about stating the religion of their child. He even went to the extent of quoting high divorce figures among the inter-religion marriages due to the clashes among relatives to enforce their religion on the new born.
The debate went on till infinity with no solutions and unfortunately without even 0.000000001% of our population taking a note of it or even being aware of it.
And I thought what could be the right way to get consensus on such an important topic without involving the vested interests of our well known corrupt political system, even if the masses gave their consent who will have the political will to implement it ?
I have no answers as I look through my open window.
Actually this debate requires a greater Forum , unfortunately even our TV channels and News Bureaus have become TRP conscious and every other Debate becomes a thing of the hour , no Pranoy Roys , Karan Thapars, Rajdeep Sardesais or Barkha Duttas have able to bring about any changes in the political responsiveness to the issues nor any accountability to the social welfare, all they managed were broken forces of Mass Media (or were they divided by someone who knows) all heading a small news channel and few high perks, Social responsibility of the media is the last thing in anybody's mind. They flare up the trivial issues like Mr.X kissing Miss.Y or Defacing of some Statue, which a matured media could have well ignored and Nation wide violence could have be contained to a local incident.
Even the Lead India program by well know publication house is all about TRP , if any wise man question the entire objectivity of such an event - I am sure they all will scamper for answers.
There is no hope for India when politicians decide perks for themselves and as well as immunity for everything and Media play the King Maker.
Even the other day when the masses stand in long queue to be frisked at the Airport,
these politicians the deemed demigods excused themselves as well as Army chiefs from being frisked .
The argument laid down by them was these army men protect our borders and hence frisking them is an insult to their integrity but what about us we citizens who live within
the same borders are we terrorists to be frisked or are we second grade mortals?
This country is being run by the whims and fancies of the few, when state like Kerala reel under power cuts , the same Party of the ruling faction in the state oppose Bills at the Center that will bring in Nuclear power to India, who needs bombs when masses are dying for basic amenities, the man on the street don't want a bomb. All he needs is two square meals a day and he will only get it when India's industrial development is backed by a stronger infrastructure.
Rather than being a termite the leaders should learn to be a honey cow though both are parasitic the later one is beneficial for the ants too (read common man).
Religion is a political weapon no one would dare to disarm themselves of this weapon not even the one who suffers from it , coz he can gain sympathy through it .
May the WISDOM Prevail and Country be Saved
Tum Chalo - Hindustan Chale (TOI Lead India)
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Tum Dena Saath Mera O Hum Nawaaz
Soft and Romantic. This song of JURM is favourite of many luv birds. Its very close to me.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Priyamulloralaro Varuvanudennu Njaan Veruthe Mohikkumallo
-kkariyaam athennalumennum
Priyamulloralaro varuvanudennu njaan
Veruthe mohikkumallo
Ennum veruthe mohikkumallo
Palavattom pookalam vazhithetti poyitta--
gorunalum pookkamangombilathinayi mathramayoruneram rithumaarimadumaasamanayarundallo
Varuvanillarumee vijanamameevazhi--
kkariyaam athennalumennumpadivaathilolam
chennakalathavazhiyakemizhipaaki
nilkarundallomizhipaaki nilkarundallo
Priyamulloralaro varumennu njaanennum
Veruthe mohikkumallo
Varummennu chollippirinjupoyillarum
Ariyam athennalumennum
Pathivaayi njaanente padivathilenthino
Pakuthiye chaararullo
Priyamulloralaro varuvanudennu njaan
Veruthe mohikkumallo
Ninayatha nerathen padivaathilil oru
Padavinyasam kettapole
Varavaayalorunaalum piryiathen madhumasam
Oru mathra konduvannalo
Innu orumathra konduvannengo
Kothiyode odichennakalathavazhiyilekki--
rukannum neetunna neramvazhithetti
vannaro pakuthikkuvach
ente vazhiye thirichu pokunnu
ente vazhiye thirichupokunnu
ente vazhiye thirichupokunnu
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
HUM TUM - Kya Sabhi Ladken Ek jaise Hote Hain?
As I watched this movie again recently , it kindled many fond memories that took me 2 years down the lane and made me re-live the happy moments I had then
I present to you one of my favorite songs from this movie
Saanson Ko Saanson Mein Dhalne Do Zara
Dheemi Si Dhadkan Ko Badhne Do Zara
Lamhon Ki Guzarish Hai Yeh
Paas Aa Jaaye
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Aankhon Mein Humko Utarne Do Zara
Baahon Mein Humko Pighalne Do Zara
Lamhon Ki Guzarish Hai Yeh
Paas Aa Jaaye
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Saanson Ko Saanson Mein Dhalne Do Zara
Salvatein Kahin Karwatein Kahin
Phail Jaaye Kajal Bhi Tera
Nazron Mein Ho Guzarta Hua Khwabon Ka Koi Kafila
Jismo Ko Ruho Ko Jalne Do Zara
Sharmo haya Ko Machalne Do Zara
Lamhon Ki Guzarish Hai Yeh
Paas Aa Jaaye
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Saanson Ko Saanson Mein Dhalne Do Zara
Chu Lo Badan Magar Is Tarah Jaise Surila Saaz Ho
Andhere Chupe Teri Zulf Mein Kholo Ke Raat Aazaad Ho
Aanchal Ko Seene Se Dhalne Do Zara
Shabnam Ki Boondein Phisalne Do Zara
Lamhon Ki Guzarish Hai Yeh
Paas Aa Jaaye
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Saanson Ko Saanson Mein Dhalne Do Zara
Baahon Mein Humko Pighalne Do Zara
Lamhon Ki Guzarish Hai Yeh
Paas Aa Jaaye
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Hum.. Hum Tum.. Tum.. Hum Tum..
Hum.. Hum Tum
Hope you too will enjoy this song .....
Details :
Singer:Alka Yagnik,Babul Supriyo
Hum Tum (2004) | |
Cast: Rani Mukherjee, Saif Ali Khan Music Director: Jatin-lalit Director: Kunal Kohli Producer: Yashraj Films Lyrics: Prasoon Joshi Year: 2004 |
Click here to listen this song online
You can watch it here if bandwidth permits Courtesy YouTube.com
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Ilam Manjin kulirumaayoru
Singers:K J Yesudas,S Janaki.
=====================================
Ilam manjin kulirumayoru kuyil
Idam nenjil koodu koottunna sugham
Hrudhaya muraliyil pulaka mela than
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Ilam manjin kulirumayoru kuyil
Idam nenjil koodu koottunna sugham
Hrudhaya muraliyil pulaka mela than
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Chirakidunna kinaakkalil
Ithal virinja sumangalil
Chirakidunna kinaakkalil
Ithal virinja sumangalil
Niramaninja manonjamaam
Kavitha neytha vikaaramaay
Neeyente jeevanil unaroo devaa aaaa
Ilam manjin kulirumayoru kuyil
Idam nenjil koodu koottunna sugham
Hrudhaya muraliyil pulaka mela than
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Chamyamaarna manassile
Chaarushreekovil nadakalil
Chamyamaarna manassile
Chaarushreekovil nadakalil
Thozhuthunarnna prabhaathamay
Ozhuki vanna manoharee
Neeyente praananil nirayoo devi eee
Ilam manjin kulirumayoru kuyil
Idam nenjil koodu koottunna sugham
Hrudhaya muraliyil pulaka mela than
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Raagam bhaavam thaalam
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A look into a Blog Through My Window
By Shoba Narayan (this article is the copyright of its respective owners -pasted here for reading purpose only)
"Not only is our family idiosyncratic but they compete with each other's idiosyncrasies," said the man in the gray suit.
The innocuous action that prompted this denouncement was this: his father tore off the top half of a greeting card, wrote a charming message on it, and re-sent it to a friend, thus putting one good greeting card to two good uses.
"Why can't you just buy another greeting card? Why use every scrap of paper umpteen times?" the man in the gray suit lamented.
"This is a wasteful society," his father replied. "The amount of paper that gets wasted in this country is galling."
I agreed with the father, being no stranger to paper recycling myself. For years, I have written my grocery lists on the back of the coupons I get in my mail. I even tear the coupon in half if my grocery list is less than four items. I use the other half to write nasty notes to my dry cleaner for ruining my husband's shirt.
But none of us are a patch on the master of recycling -- my mother in law -- who would not only tear the top half of a greeting card and re-send it to someone else, but also re-send it without any message so the receiving party could reuse the top half of the greeting card.
Having entered my marriage fresh from a new-age graduate school where all the cool people were environmentalists who spoke of adopting babies simply to recycle the number of children in the world, I was full of admiration for my mother-in-law.
For years, my husband received birthday cards from his mother with nothing written inside, the rationale being that the sentiment of sending the card was more important than the hand-written words inside. The unwritten instruction to my husband, of course, was that he reuse his birthday card by sending it to someone else.
We are a race of recyclers -- we Indians. Our third-world thrift combined with the multiple uses that a resource-constrained society finds for each object causes us to be champion recyclers. The same plastic bag that is used to carry coconuts to the temple is then used to wrap idlis for the train journey, washed and reused as a head-covering during a sudden monsoon downpour and then reaches its final resting place as a mildly torn garbage bag.
While Americans use and throw away paper towels with gay abandon, Indians treat them like cloth, reusing paper towels to wipe kitchen counters after wiping their hands. We use shopping bags as garbage containers, never throw away the extra ketchup packets from McDonald's, and reuse our 20-pound plastic rice bags to carry pickles from India.
When I went back home, I was amused at how my mother had used and creatively reused all the gifts I sent her. Clinique's Turnaround Cream had been turned around into a container for camphor. An old Oil of Olay bottle now squeezed out sandalwood paste. An empty Godiva chocolate box contained smelly laddus and other prasadams that were too spoilt to eat but not spoilt enough to throw away and attract the wrath of the Gods. My mother received too much prasad from the temples she visited frequently for her to eat. For a while, she had fed dogs, cows and erstwhile sparrows the remnants of her prasad hoping to pass on some of the good karma. Then one day, our dog developed diarrhea after eating Lord Venkateswara's laddus, ending Amma's charitable distribution of prasadams to the animals surrounding her. The Godiva box came to the rescue and stored ancient foil-wrapped pieces of badam, pista, along with sacred ash, sandalwood, and kumkum that she collected from temples. And there they lay till someone in the house complained of the smell.
My father never throws out diaries, even old ones. He makes all his astrological calculations on diaries. During the years preceding my brother's marriage, Appa's diaries were filled with horoscopes of suitable girls, along with his comments on their merits and demerits. January contained a list of girls from Madras along with their biodata, horoscope and family background, February contained girls from Bombay, March from Delhi, April contained the names of girls recommended by friends, May represented close family friends who had daughters of marriageable age.
And so it went. Whenever he wanted me to look up some detail of a girl he was considering, he would call cryptically, "Look up January 28th's birth date. I want to make sure she is suitably younger than your brother."
My Dad is one of the few people who hates traveling with the requisite two gargantuan boxes that most Indians carry back and forth across the Atlantic. If it were up to him, he would come for a six-month visit to the US with a 60-inch box. This single-box practice of my Dad's would have continued forever were it not for my mother offering to help with my spring cleaning. When Amma saw me carrying garbage-bags full of clothes out to the curb one afternoon, she intervened.
"Why are you throwing away all those good clothes?" she asked.
"Well, they are old, and I have grown out of most of them. If we place them by the curb, the Salvation Army will pick it up for recycling," I replied.
"Why donate good quality clothes to the American Army when they can be used by the poor people back home?" my mother said.
After that, my father was forced to carry two suitcases. He came with one suitcase mostly empty and returned with it filled with old clothes that would be distributed to the servants, vegetable vendors, the flower lady, the iron-man, and all their respective children. When I returned I saw my old Gap T-shirt being worn by the iron-man's 14-year-old daughter. She had braided her hair with oil, worn a large vermilion dot on her forehead, washed her cheeks with fresh yellow turmeric, worn dangly Indian ear-rings and looked resplendent above the gray Gap T-shirt.
It gave me a queer sense of deja vu to watch the Levi's blue jeans (that I couldn't fit into) worn by the scrawny vegetable vendor, my husband's torn Ralph Lauren polo shirt on the flower-seller who we all called Midnight Manu because he was so black. All of them came and thanked us profusely for bringing them 'Amricaan,' clothes. With the characteristic generosity of the poor, the flower-seller gave me extra strings of jasmine, the fruit vendor gave me a few more oranges and the iron-man ironed my clothes for free, all in gratitude of my old clothes that I was going to throw away.
Nowadays, magazine articles have been written proving that recycling is a waste of time and doesn't help preserve the earth's resources. But I think that for us Indians, recycling is second nature and reflects our inborn outrage at waste. I don't think that we recycle to save the earth; I think we do it to save our souls.
Shoba Narayan has written for The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A Song being heard through The Window
Lauta de Jannat woh meri !
Woh Aman, woh chaman ka nazaara
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
Meri rooh ki tasveer … mera Kashmir
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
Charon taraf to pehle sukoon hi Sukoon tha
Awam ko Watan se Ishq ka Junoon tha
Ab Yahan qatl hai, ab Wahan khoon hai
Meri aulad mere Kashmir se mehroom hai, mehroom hai
Mera Kashmir savaanra kyon,
Jab isko yoon Ujadna tha
Khushnuma manzar pe khanjar kyon chalaya
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
Meri Rooh ki Tasveer … mera Kashmir
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
Chaahe Kafan ka joda mujhko pehna de Tu
Mere Bacche ko woh Jannat,
woh Kashmir dikha de Tu
Woh mera Gulistan ban gaya shamshaan
Yahan maut ki dehleez pe khada hai har Insaan
Tamanna hai guzaarish hai, Dard-e-dil ki khwahish hai
Doobti kashti ko dila de Tu kinara
Woh Aman, woh chaman ka nazaara
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
O Khudaya, lauta de Kashmir doobara !
Meraa Kashmiiir … Merra Kashmiir !
Merraa Kashmiiir … Merraaa Kaashmeeeer !
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Window of Love
The days would all be empty
The nights would seem so long
With you I see forever oh so clearly
I might have been in love before
But it never felt this strong
Our dreams are young and we both know
They'll take us where we want to go
Hold me now, touch me now
I don't want to live without you
Nothing's gonna change my love for you
You ought to know by now how much I love you
One thing you can be sure of
I'll never ask for more than your love
Nothing's gonna change my love for you
You ought to know by now how much I love you
The world may change my whole life through
But nothing's gonna change my love for you
If the road ahead is not so easy
Our love will lead a way for us
Like a guiding star
I'll be there for you if you should need me
You don't have to change a thing
I love you just the way you are
So come with me and share the view
I'll help you see forever too
Hold me now, touch me now
I don't want to live without you
Monday, July 30, 2007
Thedi Nadanu Njan
Ente nizhalil ente asthithwam thedi nadanu njaan
Raatri yude iruttil maranja aa pakal thedi nadanu njaan
Karmegham olipicha chandrane thedi nadanu njaan
Chidhari kidakunna kannadiyil ende mukham thedi nadanu njaan
Peru Mazhayathu oru pananeer thulli thedi nadanu njaan
Grishmathil oru vasantham thedi nadanu njaan
Marubhoomiyil oru ottu vellam thedi nadanu njaan
Choozhiyil petta Vanjiye pole kara thedi nadanu njaan
Kallinte shilpathil Daivathe thedi nadanu njaan
Aall kuttathil oru koottukarane thedi nadanu njaan
Nadoodikalil oru jeevitha pangaliye thedi nadanu njaan
Panchavadyaa melayil oru nishabdhatha thedi nadanu njaan
Kurudan marku kaanmanayi velicham thedi nadanu njaan
Pottan marku kelkanayi Shabdham thedi nadanu njaan
Etho Shoka yatrayil punchiri thedi nadanu njaan
Anyan maril swanthakaare thedi nadanu njaan
Dusthanmarude nagarathil oru punyathmavine thedi nadanu njaan
Vettum kolayudeyum lokathu Shanti dhoodane thedi nadanu njaan
Veshialayankalil oru kanyakaye thedi nadanu njaan
Madhushalayil botham ullavane thedi nadanu njaan
Swapnangalil yadharthyam thedi nadanu njaan
Daridrangalude veetil koodishwarane thedi nadanu njaan
Naatile nunakootangalil sathyam thedi nadanu njaan
Aneka Madhangalil maanushya dharmam thedi nadanu njaan
Vikalangarude koode ente kaal thedi nadanu njaan
Ente jeevithathinde Lakshyam thedi nadanu njaan
Ente jeevithathinde Lakshyam thedi nadanu njaan
Meri Talaash
Apne saye mei apna wajood doond raha hun
Andheri raat me khoi huvi Subha doond raha hun
Kali ghatoon ke peeche chupa huva chaand doond raha hun
Tooti hui aayene mei apna chehera doond raha hun
Sawan ki boondon mei kahi ek shabam doond raha hun
Patthjaad ke havaoo mei bahar doond raha hun
Registhan ki safed reton me pain ka ek katra dond rah hun
Majdhar mei fasi kashti ki tarha Sahil doond raha hun
Patthar ke murat mei bhagvan doon raha hun
Duniya ki bheed mei ek jeevan sathi doon raha hun
Karvan ke beech mei ek humsafar doond raha hun
Bhoolbulaye me mei apni manzil doond raha hun
Shehar ki is shor mei ek khamosh pal doond raha hun
Jo Andha dekh sake who roshni doond rahoon
Jo behara sun sake who aahat doond raha hun
Kisi ki janaze mei ek muskurahat doond raha hun
Paraye logon me koi apnaa doond raha hun
Haiwaano ki basti mei koi Masiha doond raha hun
Is duniya ke khoon kharabe mei aman doond raha hun
Tawaif ke kote par wafa doon raha hun
Lakho garibon mei koi amir doodn raha hum
Mazahabon mei insaniyat ka Matlab doond raha hun
Mei apne zinda hone ka maqsad doodn raha hun
Mei apne zinda hone ka maqsad doodn raha hun
Monday, July 23, 2007
I PEEPED THROUGH THE WINDOW
I SAW A WINDOW FORCEFULLY SHUT
Saturday, July 14, 2007
The Search for An Open Window
All the windows around are closed towards the change, the change in ethos, beliefs, culture, tradition and orthodoxy. The windows around are tainted with the colors of prejudice, hypocrisies, racism, feudalisms, capitalism and fundamentalism.
What are these windows ? Where do they open to?
These windows open to ones mind, ones thoughts and perception.
But today our social environment has closed and nailed with all the social restrictions and chauvinisms.My dream of An Open Window through which the air of change and flows freely and the allow sanity prevail over insanity, humanity our community and liberty over society.
I am looking across an open window with the hope that winds of change will blow open the most securely closed windows and bring about an ambiance more condusive for the humanity to thrive and prosper.