Ranchi.

And Here I am! At Rukka near Ranchi interning with KGVK  Living amidst vast stretches of farms growing anything from arwa rice to starchy potatoes, from luscious lychee to glowing mangoes, I feel like I have been picked up from my room and put in the middle of nowhere! The past few days have been quite a revelation. Getting to know the life in the real India. The India which we aren’t aware of, where the basic amenities seems to be a far cry and where 9% growth seems like a foolish statistic. I have been learning about the various projects that KGVK is involved in in their various pillars of the Total Village Management (TVM) initiative, but going to the field and meeting people is something that cannot be substituted with any amount of knowledge. Seeing how families below poverty line live and how even in 2011, major population is still dependant on primitive agricultural practices. Such an experience is something which has brought me here in the first place and it’s certainly living up to it!
My newly made friends and I here at KGVK made a trip to a village called Kinni in the block of Patratu (Jharkhand). We started off at 7 am in the morning as it was a long way to the village travelling more than 60 kilometres one way traversing the zigzag way across the mountains and the water reserve over the Patratu Dam. It was a calm spectacle with the still water and flat green lands void of any existence. Then later we reached the village where we soon met the village folk. Everybody started to gather around in the church courtyard, a somewhat pakka ground surrounded with walls made of red bricks haphazardly placed, barring any use of modern construction techniques. It seemed like a perfect setting for my first experience. People poured in and seemed to be at ease with the idea of KGVK coming to their village. Most of them greeted with a gentle smile.
And soon it all started. I was surprised to see people coming in even after it started wanting to hear what all it was about. It was like they were genuinely inquisitive about the day’s proceedings. One by one people from KGVK talked about the importance of knowledge. While the government schemes focused on helping directly with resources, KGVK wants to assist with knowledge empowerment. It sounded like the perfect analogy of giving you a fish to eat or teaching you how to fish; Teaching the people about sound agricultural practices, livestock rearing and the importance of sustaining their natural resources. Not just that, the meeting talked about the importance of working together in combating poverty, focus on making self-help groups and adolescent groups so that further government schemes can be employed for their benefit.
However, the people weren’t completely accepting the idea of such schemes making a real impact to their lives. They had previously reared goats within a self-help group but the experience turned sour as the goat died. Scepticism was pretty visible but KGVK realises it to be a slow and painful process. The process of them getting to understand the schemes and slowly being imbued into them. So here it began the process, from one village to another.

whistles.

World, hold on instead of messing with our future
Open up inside
World, hold on, one day you will have to answer
To the children of the sky

:)

Yeh Pal, No One Killed Jessica

Yeh pal, jo hain woh haadse hain
Ya phir likhe yunhi the
Tai hue the pehle hi
Ya phir yeh tai nahi the
Apne begasne, rishton ke maane ko pehchaana
Mrigtrishna hai yeh, duniya zamana humne jaana
Kyun gire hain toot ke jab jude hum kabhi bhi nahi the, nahi the

Simti lipti sehmi si bezaar, bezaar
Kyun hai zindagi
Yun hi ghut ke
Jeenay ka hi naam, hi naam
Kyun hai zindagi

Kya bataayen ye rang bhari
Haseen titliyon si kabhi thi
Rengte ke chuon jaise, toh nahi thi
Hoo iss pe na jaane
Kin galtiyon ka hai jurmaana
Mrigtrishna hai yeh
Duniya zamana humne jaana
Kyun gire hain toot ke jab jude hum kabhi bhi nahi the, nahi the

The ground may be moving fast
But I tied my boots to a broken mast

Congratulations-MGMT lyrics

some songs just really make you think!

Tale of a special being

You think your life is as blemished as mine?

For once, I can’t be proved wrong. There’s no way in this world that you can challenge me when it comes to having a grotesque life. You may have faced many adversities. You may be an orphan or may have been a laborer. You may be a doctor whose emotions have been frozen by spending days and nights in a hospital or an engineer who faces stiff competition before he even thinks of putting one step forward. The fact-of-the-matter is you think of me as a disgusting, insignificant, vile and downright dirty pest. One thing you oafs don’t realize is how I might be your last hope when apocalypse would finally engulf us all. It’s because of you nincompoops that I know that I have the maximum probability of being alive even after human extinction.

If you still can’t realize who I am, it’s just an illustration of the underlying issue. I am a cockroach, you idiot! The girls would probably go “eww” right now. Yeah, I know we don’t have the Tom Cruise looks but it doesn’t mean we get treated like this. I have stood in front of the glistening marble tiles and discerned if there’s anything wrong with me. But there isn’t! If you’d care to talk to a caring Biologist who has had the fancy experience of dissecting one of my brothers, he would tell you how your pitiable six pack abs are no match for our sinewy structures. The long, aerodynamic and richly colored canopy probably hinders you from researching any further. The extended sense of smell has a knack of finding food within seconds. So while you curse your mum for hiding away your favorite chocolate, we would have already gorged on it. Not only do you need to learn from our gastronomical adventures but in a more important sense, wooing the fairer sex. Men pursuing them are one of the most distressed things I’ve seen in my life. Poor things have to dance on the whimsical plans of the ladies. Whereas, we just use the invincible weapon and she-roach has no chance of escaping the trap. The weapon is called pheromones, my dear friend.

In the early days of my life, to simply put, I was innocent. Hatred, anger, frustration, vengeance. These words were not known to me. But as I grew and saw families tumbling or more literally being squished, washed, battered and choked to death by heartless beasts, a more resilient and bold being within me started to evolve. In fact the training which I then underwent at the Roach Grounds is only a match to the Jihad training which Al-Qaeda talks of with their chests ballooned out. I became part of a greater enterprise and started organized roacharism (I walked across terrorism in the newspaper and the word swept a wave of inspiration, great enough to start a daring venture). Since I am an Indian cockroach and we all share the same love for plagiarism, I started the Roacharist movement. Soon the word spread out and I had some friends who shared the same sentiments. Sentiments led to initiating actions. We filed in a charter and applied for permissibility from the High Roach Commission. We presented the main objectives of our Movement:

· To indulge in unlawful and illegitimate activities including infesting of the drainage system, taking control over the kitchen and the washrooms eventually leading to total dominance of the house.

· Being part of random acts of random roaming within the house causing the female occupants to regularly swoon at our sight and hence distress their male counterparts.

· To be all in all proud of the Roacharist Movement and aid any roach in need.

I must say the movement has been a quite a breakthrough. We have successfully raided the kitchen many times. Hearing the sweet music of screaming ladies in the morning has come as a welcome gift. Blocked the poo drains and made the humans pay for their legalized crime dearly. But today is a special day for Roacharists. For we are going to go where no roach has gone before. Attempt what my ancestors could only dream of. The Place which is a regular visitor to our dreams. The mission today is Braving the Cold. We will have to face temperatures that might freeze us all but its something that we must dare to attempt. This will definitely pave the way for our legacy.

Braving the Cold is about breach of an appliance. Due to faulty wire, it sometimes loses electricity during the night and with the little help from the miss who forgets to shut the door close, we will be able to make our move and enter the realm of limitless possibilities. If all goes as planned, we will start by 23:00 hours tonight.

We waited in utmost patience for the time to arrive. Standing steady and head held high, we waited for the time to make a move. A huge army waited for the signal, all huddled up into immaculate lines. With their two hairs pointing upwards full of energy and spirit.

“Go!Go!Go!”, came the call and the army started to pour out of the burrows making the long journey through the plains towards the destination of our dreams. Inching closer and closer, we moved in capriciously through the dark of the night. Reaching the tall daunting structure, we puffed and started climbing on the smooth surface testing our vacuum feet capabilities to the maximum. Some slipped away but most of us held their ground and made their way inside. The atmosphere made us jittery for temperatures that low were definitely unhealthy but our olfactory cells pressed in us renewed vigor. I felt a dizziness getting hold of me for I was drowning in the intoxicating smells of countless dishes. We had made it! We had reached the insides of a fridge.

My brothers could not believe what they saw! Food.And it was everywhere. Some of us went for the leftover pizza. Some couldn’t resist the tempting brownie all decked up on the side. Then there was the chicken to dip into. Rolling across the lemon was something I wished to do since my childhood days. It was all so good to be true. Too good infact. Suddenly, a thud was heard and then we all looked back in horror towards the towering figure which stood there rubbing his eyes. It was Mr.Sharma. Even though he had never screamed on the sight of a roach, this was too much for him to fathom. He let out a big scream, which was loud enough to wake up his wife. “Code 31! Code 31!” I shouted out loud. Then I ran out of the zone leaving out a trail of scent which meant trouble! Code 31 meant human danger and we all could see him right there.

Braving the cold had lost steam. I did manage to escape Mr. Sharma’s leather sandals which he mercilessly used to kill twenty two of my daunting men. Even though we were squashed, we have embellished human history. To give you a taste of this impact, Madonna, the pop singer, went out in the public so impressed by this incident and said, "I am a survivor. I am like a cockroach, you just can't get rid of me."

Every one of us has some kind of inhibitions. Those small absurd things that makes you or me a unique identity. I am going to share one of those today. Something I managed to shed over the weekend. The special people. People who are not blessed with things we so carelessly take for granted. Who has the time to ponder over such trivial issues anyway? When we were adolescents, it was about getting maximum stars from the teacher. By high school it was about winning competitions and being the head boy. With entrance exams, it was getting to the topmost rung of the ladder even before the struggle would make an inception.

I searched for the meaning of life. The Holy Google showed me this:

the experience of being alive; the course of human events and activities; "he could no longer cope with the complexities of life"

Hmm, well isn’t that a bit ironical. I’ll tell you how. The only statement that could have been used as an assertion to existence of life actually talks about ending it.

Yes! That’s what life is. An endless endeavor.

Here we are drowned in the seas of emotions. Getting a job or an Ivy League college or whether we make the “CAT” meow.

That’s what clouds are minds. Well my clouds poured their heart out when I went to Samarth the other day. It’s a residential care centre for mentally challenged. Let’s go back to my inhibition. It was how I didn’t want to hurt these kids with my actions and come out as cold and rude because I have so much respect for them. I want to help them but I thought I’d cringe at seeing them. So there I went in, just like a gladiator who enters the coliseum, and stands there waiting with utmost patience thinking he might get devoured any moment soon. Only difference is I did not have a sword or wore heavy armor but was armed with coca cola bottles, pastries, drawing colors to have the best Independence Day celebrations of my life.

As we entered, we hid the stuff in the cupboard and then started drawing with them. I shirked at first, but I had to be strong. There was somebody crying, it seemed like he wanted to cry for some reason or the other. He was like I m crying for the people in Ahmadabad and I was a bit taken aback.Anyway, we went back out. I was told to sit with Seema to help her draw. She would color a bit and then hold it up to show me if she was doing well. I would nod and grin like a wondrous fool. She saw people’s arm getting painted and suddenly drawing was not sport enough. She perched forward and through the sheet away and made a run for the painting area. By then somebody had broken a crayon and another one was laughing hysterically and showing off the tri-color that had embellished her arm. That smile on their faces. Priceless.

Colors and music. Languages of the world. What a wonderful infusion that knows no bounds and needs no comprehension.

As you can guess, we played the music for them. The hyperactive Seema was at it again. She was like I m a “ ganda bacha”. Everybody else was her brother and she would drag them, sometimes with abnormal amount of force, to a dance. Soon people were joining in. Somebody would flail their arms. There was this small girl. All she wanted to do was jump up as high as she could. So I’d hold her arms and up she went. She was quite young too. The reminiscent of my childhood seem to float back. Counting all the stars I had got………….Soon we poured in the colas and served out the pastries. Everyone ate their share. No stealing, No throwing around, No messing around. They didn’t know the usual etiquettes which we are inborn with but they didn’t do any of that. I was baffled. They’d just come inside the room and if you’d ask them if they want a cola they would take it and go back. Not that we had caught them playing and running away with the bottles in the first place but it was just “shock and awe”. Here were people who were free to play any amount of tricks on us but there were no tantrums to be seen, no traces of disrespect .All they gave was a smile. An honest delicate smile that genuinely felt like a thank you. Out of Samarth there is a selfish cruel world. A devil’s den. A coliseum. Where any moment can be your last.

My inhibition was crumbling. I danced with Seema and was soon pushing people onto the dance floor. The local favorites took turns to play on the stereo. Music filling up the small enclosure. As it spread, it caught hold of them, tight in its clutches, and made them jive. There was a new entrant to Samarth who was not bedazzled by the music’s mystique. She would cry out in a burst at any random instant. While I was lost in my thoughts, this guy tucked on my shirt and said “phell”. I couldn’t understand and my friend was quick to aid me, “He wants your phone.” The guy soon had the phone close to his ears listening to “hum hain is pal yahan” and gave out a beaming smile back at me.By now, I was seema’s brother too and she was giving all of us tight hugs.

Soon people gathered around this guy who didn’t participate in anything .Everybody was coaxing him to sing a song. Every song came to a sudden end. Every shout was shushed. After a long time, he finally broke into some famous actor quotes. Claps ensued. Even the new entrant laughed in her own way and everybody looked in astonishment at her. I was sitting at some distance on a chair looking at him. My bulb glowed. This was his JEE exam. This was his CAT. My eyes gave way to a tear. Inhibition came to a clattering end. There were no jobs for the taking, No salaries to be earned, No professors to please. Just a simple sentence that made him a star.

As soon as that happened, rain began to pelt down. I was still in my own maze. People who care for them. Life’s a bitch.

Soon we packed up our stuff and made a run out for our vehicles. Everybody waved bye. Everyone.

My heart was filled with happiness. The joy of making them smile for few hours is going to be etched in my heart for a long time.

Money Talks

I lay atop Dhaniram’s cold chest. It wasn’t moving and the beating of his heart had stopped. Lying flat on the checkered network of sewn bamboo sticks of the premier quality was MLA sahib, Dhaniram Gupta. Suited in the same kingly attire he wore while he was shot dead by the local mafia, his life had come to a rather subtle end. An end which people were very surprised to witness even though the inevitability of it all can hardly be questioned. For Dhaniram was in constant communication with the gang leaders and the “high-ups” in the government. He was the Middle Man but this time he had taken too much time, something the mafia couldn’t afford. Along with Dhaniram, my life came to a close. It had been a long life and I remember each and every moment of it. As people started piling up coarse wood on top of his body..

Out into the world! I travelled through the streets witnessing the society of homo sapiens, a splendid spectacle of generations. Years of evolution, technology and sheer intelligence brought me to play a role in the lives of a large number of people rather too significantly. The significance that took me sometime to completely comprehend. I was happy, like a toddler is when he speaks his first words or when a bird first learns to fly. The sheer excitement of what future promises. I settled into my first home stashed with my other friends. The house had long walls with paintings decked on them, people with effluent tastes and a Chihuahua who seemed to own it all. I had a special place to myself where only the adults of the family would be allowed. That was when I realized I happened to occupy a unique place in their lives.

Then I was woken up from my cozy bed and taken along with the lady. The chauffeur driven car stopped at a red light and in a jiffy appeared this little girl wearing a torn cloth blackened by the exhaust of the passing-by cars. Her face was hidden beneath the grays and the pearl like tears that fell unconsciously from her eyes. The lady drowned in sympathy for this ‘human’ and handed me over. I was shattered. I felt so useless, like a cover of an ice cream cup, so nonchalantly strewn away. I looked up at the girl with a snare but her expressions had taken a drastic change. The tears had vanished and a mighty grin took its place. She jumped up in the air and held me high. Then she continued to gaze at me with wonder. I was perplexed for I could never imagine myself being an object capable of inciting so much curiosity. I thought everybody knew how I looked like. She then held me close to her heart. I could hear it beating very fast. Running fast along with her, she took me far away from the madding crowd. Deep into the smelly lanes of sewerage laden shacks and entered one of them. She sat on one of the protruding stone and continued to look at me with amazement. She pulled me in close and touched me with her rough lips which hadn’t been cleansed for a long time. I felt out of place , really disturbed to be in this hole but the love with which this poor girl seemed to bestow me was nothing I had seen in my fancy house. Her warmth was overpowering.

Alas! The love was short-lived for my excited owner made the mistake of spreading the news of my presence. Soon the innocent girl was made to forcefully part from her life’s major accomplishment. There I went into a rollercoaster ride of the bullies, the workers to the middle class families to shopkeepers and to the rich brats. To the good and the ugly of society. Travelled through facets of the ugly structure that the humans had formed. My journey continued at the panwaala’s shop. The panwaala, took me in his hands which had been darkened by the gooey liquid that smeared it, the aroma of the herbs and tobacco that forms the basis of the delicacy which sells in millions every day, tucked me deep in his pocket. I could hardly manage to get some sleep in this olfactory explosion. But soon I changed hands and it was going to be for the better. For I was told I was going to be part of a pompous occasion. I once again felt that sense of significance. That feeling which satisfied my hunger for flattery. Taken inside a large shed and kept on the table for scrutiny, I began to wonder if I had been fooled. For here I saw large men laughing hard and pouring their tall glasses with a golden liquid. I had never seen it before but I was convinced it was the peculiar liquid that was responsible for their giggly extravaganza.

They started to push me into a line. I retaliated. They weren’t bothered to see me slipping away. One of the guys pulled me back, held me up and looked at me intently. “Arey, yeh toh asli hai” and all of them broke into a fit of laughter. That was enough to give me a seizure. I was terrified and fell back unconscious. The break of dawn woke me up. I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. I had been tied down by a thread! It was horrifying for I couldn’t move an inch. Then somebody pulled me out and I came down from the darkness out into a massive crowd. I saw people held back by a rope cheering their hearts out. “Dhaniram ki Jai! Dhaniram ki Jai!” everybody shouted. Soon I saw myself on top of Dhaniram, the leader of the region who had taken out a procession to address their issues. What problems were actually resolved remains a mystery. Bang! Bang! Dhaniram fell back onto the horse carriage he was travelling on and the deafening cheers were transformed into a shocking silence. Their leader had been shot…..

Dhaniram’s son came forward and lit up his pyre. Dhaniram always wanted to be covered with his richly possessions and so was his wish fulfilled. I am a hundred rupee note whose charred remains would mix with the ashes of a powerful leader….