बावरा मन राह ताके...

बावरा मन राह ताके तरसे रे...
नैना भी मल्हार बनके बरसे रे...

आज सकाळी सकाळी हे गाणे ऐकले अन मी विचार करायला लागलो... पावसाळा असाच असतो... उगाच विचार करायला लावतो. एक नवीन जाणीव देऊन जातो, किंवा कदाचित अशी नवी जाणीव आहे... याची जाणीव देऊन जातो! स्वतःलाच स्वतःमध्ये कुठेतरी हरवायला लावतो!

पूर्वी शाळेतून कॉलेज मधून येताना, इकडे तिकडे जाताना येताना भिजायला व्हायचं... तेव्हा भिजू नये असा प्रयत्न असायचा... आता आतून भिजावस वाटत, पण खिशात मोबाईल असतो, पाठीवर laptop असतो, पैसे, कागदपत्र असतात, मुख्य म्हणजे एकदम कोरडे ठक्क मन असते... जे पटकन ओले होऊ देत नाही... जास्तीत जास्त हात बाहेर काढून भिजवू पाहतो, पण चिंब ओली अवस्था आताशा साधता येत नाही! एकतर फार पाऊस आहे, कुठे कशाला बाहेर जायचं असं विचार असतो, किंवा जायचाच असेल तर चार चाकी घेऊन जाऊ... चारचाकी मध्ये सोय आहे, पण गम्मत नाही! पावसापासून वाचण्याची सोय आहे, पण वारा पावसाचे झोक येऊन गाडी इकडे तिकडे वाहण्याची गम्मत नाही...

पहिला पाऊस आला, आणि कबीर खिडकीत जाऊन उभा राहिला... चेहऱ्यावर अपरिमित आनंद... अंगावर पावसाचे तुषार होते, हात बाहेर काढून "खूप पाऊस पडतोय, अरे बाबा बघ किती पाऊस पडतोय..." अन मी? खिडकी बंद करायला हवी, नाहीतर सोफा ओला होईल, आता रेनकोट शोधायला हवा, चपला चालणार आहेत का कि अजून खर्च... असल्या विचारात...

हल्ली पाऊस बाहेर पडतो, मनात पडत नाही... जमीन ओली होते... मन ओले होत नाही... मग कधी कधी असे विचार मनात येतात, न हे सगळं अचानक अनोळखी वाटायला लागत... जसे जसे मोठे झालो तसे ह्या छोट्या छोट्या गोष्टी खूप छोट्या वाटायला लागतात... कदाचित आत्तापर्यंत किमान ३३ वेळा तरी पहिला पाऊस पाहिलेला असल्यामुळे असेल, पण त्यातली हुरहूर मनापर्यंत पोचत नाही... पोर इतकं का आनंद्लय समजत नाही!

पाण्याने भरलेलं तळ, त्यात उडी न मारता चुकवलं, की समजावं बालपण संपलं!!

पाऊस सोहळा झाला, कोसळत्या आठवणींचा.
कधी उधाणता, तर केव्हा, थेंबांच्या संथ लयींचा!

Comfort place

Some wise person had quoted, "Birth and death are momentary. The entire life, in between, is all about maintenance. Maintaining what is happening, maintaining life."

Sudden philosophical urge today? No, at the root, it is not at all philo... it is row life, regular day-to-day stuff.

Maintaining home is difficult. We put lot of energy in buying or renting a place, we call it home after attaching certain emotional value to it. That emotional value, does not come by only staying in it, i guess, it comes when you start living in it, when it starts living with you. The more you adjust with it, suit it, more it adjusts with you, gets comfortable with you.

I have always been crazy about comfort places at home. A place where you can peacefully sit, where you need not feel like watching television or reading a book or doing anything for that matter. A place, need not be 'comfortable' per say... but has something that soothes you. 

At my parent's place, where I spent my entire childhood and part of adulthood, I had one such place. The house was smaller then, it did not have the 1st floor. It had a metal staircase and a tall metal pillar supporting the structure. I used to sit in the small gap between the pillar and wall (i used to 'fit', I wanted to say, it would have been meaningful looking at me now, but meaningless otherwise...). It had nothing, nowhere to rest your back, no cushions to sit, no coziness whatsoever. But I used to like that spot. Facing banana trees and some other green entities, feet directly landing in soil or mud, even if people are calling me from within the house- can not hear them and vice-e-versa, even if at home, so much disconnect, so much solace. 

Later we built the 1st floor, the lovely lively metal staircase was replaced by robust but ruthless concrete one. The pole gone and spot was covered by some wall supporting that climb. What I hated the most in the development is loosing the spot. Nobody noticed that earlier, so later there was no question.  

We shifted to a new house few years back. I am yet to hit the 'spot', I can say!

Every morning, when I get up, i find Kabir, not at his place where he slept at night, but at the bottom. Half on the Gadi, half on the ground. Me and Rashmi asked him several times whats the deal, he says he liked it. I think, he has started to find 'it' before me!!

First day at school

First day at school

Yes, first day at school. I do not remember my first day at school... frankly I do, but may be I don't want to! I used to go to this school named 'NPPS' in Pune. I remember, for the first day, both mom and dad had come to drop me. It was a gloomy morning (either I remember it gloomy or it was actually one!). I remember walking in the school, the madam (tai, her name was Ms. Kale i guess) stretching her hand forward to receive me... entire school campus, kids wearing brown uniforms, crying. I joined the gang too. I think that was the only day I did what the other kids were doing, rest of the days of the school, I did what others were not doing- coming late, sleeping off in the school, wetting my chaddi, not making friends etc etc. I always played the role of a cranky crying kid every school has. Anyways, I have paid enough for the being in that role as well... 

Today's first day at school was for Kabir. Yes, he is grown up. So much so that he is now going to school, to a play school, but still. We were excited for this promotion from a long time. He was about to enter a phase which is never ending. All his life, at least all his prime years, he will be spending in some or the other school or such educational shop. The things now he is excited about, uniform, bag, water bottle, he will hate them to core eventually. We had had the day planned. Rashmi will take him from home, reach the school campus, I will reach office little early, spend at least an hour in the office so people won't say anything, then leave in time and reach the school, we will send off the kid together. Such a perfect, loving, family family event. 

I wanted to see how he marches towards the school when we drop him there. Will he cry? Will he be sentimental, at least? (this question can arise in case of Kabir, he is just like his name, Saint!!) Will he be apprehensive about leaving his parents behind? Will he.. wil...

I had more apprehensions than him. I was more excited than him. I wanted to see all these, feel this anxiety... be worried and happy at the same time. Be a good father and be around when the kid would need me the most...

I left office thinking about all this. I remembered how I used to go to school. My dad used to drop me. This is 1990's when the wall clocks were set on the radio announcements. My school was about 5-6 Kms away from home. It started at 7 in the morning, and we left the house at about 6.50-6.55. Dad used to drop me to school, come back, park the vehicle and then walk down for another 20 mins to catch a bus at 7.40. Believe me, even if the things don't add up now, it used to work, every day, except Thursdays. He used to ride me to school, full speed, shouting on the people on the streets. He had Hero Honda CD 100, bike as old as me (and he still has it, still rides it, not full speed, but still shouting on the people walking by!!), which he drove to the fullest. Scary but wonderful days!!

I was so lost in the thoughts, I did not worry about the traffic, signals I had to wait for 2/3 times, stupid and subjectively irresponsible people crossing the roads and driving cars, nothing. I somehow reached the school in no time. I was relieved and excited. To meet him, see him going in the school, crossing the road, finally!!

And best part of the story, I missed all this! I was, apparently, very late and school was particularly particular about starting on time. I reached at about 11.35, when the school starts at 11.30. They waited for 2 mins for me to come (SO nice of them!!) Hmm... all the anxiety, good fatherhood, excitement, apprehensions, sentiments were washed away by 3 minutes... 

I received him when he came out of it, same as I would if he comes out of an airplane. We clapped, chirped and did all those stupid things one does when around his/her kids. 

Nothing goes waste, as the happiness on his face when he came out was equally enchanting. I missed the beginning, but the complete movie, especially the climax was worth a watch!!  

TG

TG

TG... these 2 letters may mean nothing to a lay person, but the professionals working in my sector know perfectly what these stand for. 

I was in Aundh buying stuff for Kabir. Cloths, toys, usual. We were done, so we came out of the shop and standing there, thinking what to eat for dinner. It was about 9 PM and fairly crowded as we were in a prime locality of the town. We gazed the road as some sudden running and noises appeared from a corner of the street. A family, 3 kids, 2 women and a guy were loudly arguing something and all of a sudden, the man started running on the street, possibly towards someone. Shouting at him (her!). I could see, a Transgender woman was walking down the street, away from the family. She was looking happy, must have got some cash. She was a thin tall person, draped in green sari- not so vivid, but a dull cotton sari, even though TG not so sharp looking (TGs i have met are extremely sharp and well put, I won't say well behaved though!). The man, running for her, finally caught her, held her hand firmly and started yelling on top of his voice, mostly to create scene. In about a few minutes, there were men all around her, beating her, pulling her hair and cloths. Finally they threw her on the footpath, removed all (ALL) her cloths and kept abusing and shouting. 

The TG had asked for some money. When the family gave out 10 Rs, the family lady had held a note of 500 Rs. as well. The TG snatched it from her. When they demanded to give it back, she tore it in 2 pieces and gave it back. This is the man's version of the story. We could not (or to be frank did not) hear her version of the story. 

In no time, 2 police officers came by, beat her up again and left her. The case closed there, for the man, the police and public. For her...?


What was I in all this. A passerby... an onlooker.... just any other guy in the crowd?

Yes, i stood their, frozen, looking at the scene, helpless. I could have done something to save that lady. I could have gotten in between to at least ease it up, but i didn't. 

There was a time when it was above my head, so I called a few people. Tried getting some help for her. There are organizations working for the TGs in Pune city. I was hoping somebody will come and help her, may be not in crisis, but at least after trauma help. 

The organization denied, saying "She must not be a real TG. Must be a temporary mangti who was trying to steal or something. We can not get into it and disrupt our reputation." 

They sounded just like me!!

One thing at a time

One thing at a time... Yes, that's how I happen to work...

I am an ordinary man. I have small dreams, want to set my life on an ideal course. But I feel, i can do only one thing at a time. I read in the inspirational type books a list of things you must do everyday... i agree to all of them, but can not do it all.

If I decide to follow child psychology and dedicate complete attention to Kabir, then i stay awake for a long time at night. Then 'read till you drop' motto goes off. Then i can not get up early in the morning and 'early to bed early to rise' sleeps back to bed. 
Reducing the belly fat has been my ambition for a long... long time. Has never worked so far. You need dedication and getting up early. Exercise and hike/walk should become an integral part of your routine. Child psychology does not take into account physical fitness of the parents...

Visiting gods (sitting at home) has always made me feel good. Meditating and dhyana are fascinating, at least feel like i am trying to give some time to myself. But, it has conditions, dependencies. Unless all the other things are clear, one can not do these. If i get up at 8.30 in the morning, need to reach office at least by 10.30 (my office starts at 9.30, I am ill-famous for being 'supremely punctual'), then clean yourself and do all other biologically required things consumes most of my time. On top of that, if Kabir gets up then whoa... It is a different game all together. Where will i find god in all this?

I love to work in the garden. Plant trees, water them, see them blooming and fruiting (i don't know what they call when a plant has fruits), it is a pleasing joy! This joy also is expensive. it demands time, water availability etc. And what will pose as a question is really unpredictable...


If I try to become a perfect father, I have to live with the fat tummy. If I follow strict (not even strict, loose will also do)fitness regime, then my plants and books go unwatered. If i decide to eat breakfast everyday, i usually miss the lunch! If i decide to read the books i like, i miss on to the sweet mischief of Kabir. 

So basically if i do one, i miss other 7. I think that is fine, that is life. 

It is good to be ideal, but fun to miss things. That's human!