No Shave, No Lipstick…the new dating mantra

Not sure how many of you have noticed the ongoing “No Shave, No Lipstick” movement in the media. Well it’s actually a daring ad campaign smartly tagged as ‘Movement’ for the new Gillette shaving blades.

Well,  to decode the ‘Movement’ as stated in the advertorial, it’s all about how women consider men to be undesirable, uncool and as per some extreme comments less trustworthy, if they are with a stubble!

And all this research by AC Nielsen with a record-breaking massive sample set of 150 women in few metros! That’s it..well that’s why it’s called a Sample set.

This is a dreadful statistics for all the Lipstick companies. Behind every unshaven man, there will the one or may be many (could vary in some case I believe) women; who are committed not to use their most preferred  weapon from their vanity box, the Lipstick.

Thank god that I am married by now. So no imminent threat with my weekend stubble.  But yes, for all the bachelor men out there, you better take this seriously.

Looking forward to some FB posts as follows.

Chulbul Pandey added an update to March 25, 2012 on his  timeline – Clean shaven today

   Shiela, Munni and 5 others like this.

Shiela Chulbul Pandey, let’s go for a coffee today. What say ?

Cheers

Mandar

Seven types of Air Travelers

Flying can be fun, if you enjoy observing people. Every-time I fly, I somehow pigeon-hole fellow passengers in one of my prejudiced slots. I get amused by the way each of these kinds behave.  Here is my express list of air travelers these days.

The Pyjama Party Hoppers

Well this cool dude will be comfortable surfing in his pyjamas or shorts and slip ons all over the place.  For him, the Goan beach or an airport lounge, life is always a party.  Well and you know this saves him lot of time while he dashes from one city to another. With ruffled hair and droopy eyes, a lot of time I get a feeling that these people are innocent sleep walkers who have lost their way to the airport lounge.  May be next time I will be the good Samaritan to help him back to his shack.

Miss Louis Vuitton

Madam LVMH is all set to capture the eyeballs on this mega event called Flying. Ever before you spot her in the crowd, her, strong if not always mesmerizing perfume makes her presence felt. And even before you could see her,  a lot many times you get nudged by her entourage of vanity bags and boxes.  Maintaining a minimal eye contact with most menial people around  (thanks to those Big  Versace sunglasses) , she ensures that her business comes first. A lot of time she is the most dreadful passenger for the ground staff and the in-flight crew to handle, for her business always come first !

Mr. Gadget Freak

Mr. Apps is so fully loaded with his gizmos, that all the security checkpoints he gets alarms buzzing.  Minute after minute he keeps juggling between his gizmo inventory. The ‘ipod’ is his constant adaptation, may be the one he uses is even water proof, so that he is never without one. Suddenly you will see him bobbing his head to some trance music may be paying homage to Mr.Jobs. By the time he settles down in the waiting lounge, up comes the ‘ipad’.  In the mid-air just when all the cabin lights are dimmed, pop goes his overhead light and out comes his ‘Kindle’. Mr.Gadget freak always reminds me of the ‘Salesmen’ we spot on local trains in Mumbai. Have your ever noticed how easily they keep fishing out their wares in the crowded trains for eager buyers. Mesmerizing ! Finally Mr Gizmo switches to his “PSP”. Once I almost got knocked off when one Gadget guru was racing on his ‘PSP’. Well life is a ‘Game’ isn’t it ?

The Workaholic

This kind gets his inspiration from Mr.Gadget freak; the only difference being, for him life is “all work and no play”. He is normally the last one to board the flight. A business suit in one hand, an open laptop flap in another and in between dangles part of his luggage. By the time the safety announcement requests’ passengers to switch off all electronic devices, Mr.Workaholic is still on his blackberry closing the mother of all mortgage deals in some part of the world. After repeated requests he will finally pretends to shut down his devices. He incidentally believe that safety comes first. The moment the seat belt sign is put off,  he frantically dangles and leaps over the overhead compartment to grab his laptop. From now on till the aircraft prepares to land, he is the only visibly awake passenger on the flight. The pilots these days I understand feel it safer to be on auto-pilot!

The Big Momma

Well I pity this woman for being in charge to manage a mischievous and handful pre-schooler and a whining infant junior part II. She is all geared for this dreadful flight. One back pack, one sling bag and multiple trolley bags, which seem to have missed the ‘laws of motion’ she is one of the last people to enter the aircraft. I can’t blame her. Her back pack has all the ration to keep the two kids in good spirits. Starting with some Choco snack  bars, gums, juice tetra packs, sandwiches, biscuits, milk foods for the infant, diapers, toys just all. Phew may be much more. Airport assistance or no assistance, she is a woman on mission.

The First Time Flyer (FTF)

We all have been through this stage. Been through those awkward moments when you do not know what to do. For this gentleman it’s not as much the joy of flying but the list of don’ts that he keeps memorizing. He is a butt of all the suspicion for the security personnel. His nervousness about flying gives him a hue of a shady criminal unsure of his business. His luggage accessories have yet not been upgraded for the air travel. A trunk or a large suitcase always add to his awkwardness. But well one can’t blame him for that. That’s the first time he is flying. From getting into wrong boarding queues to getting on the wrong aircraft, this kind is always at its wits to brace up. Once airborne, they keep jutting out of their seats to look outside the window. And yes some do not refrain from calling the pretty air hostess “Madam”.

Mr.Snooz…

Mr.Snooz, is always snoozing. From later arrival to the airport to catching a wink at the waiting lounge, he is always at peace with his surroundings. Nothing can stop him from catching wink in busy places. He also at times is the last passenger on board. Some of them snore loud enough to make propellers shudder. I strongly feel this set of passengers can cause interruptions with radio waves and all possible communication of the pilot with the Air Traffic Controller (ATC).  Well this may not have been proved in the popular series of “Aircraft Crash Investigations”, but there could be a case for my theory ! Anyone wants to second me on this one ?

Note : This post has gender specific references. You could liberally change the usage if you consider it appropriate  No offence to any gender intended.

Coffins on the Highway

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

Swinging left to right,

No blinkers I can see.

Some bodies glued to their mobiles,

Some bodies without seatbelts.

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

Some bodies have enough alcohol within themselves to burn their pyre instantly.

Eager to embrace the demons of death.

Sure these bodies have loved ones who care about them.

A mother, an old father, a caring and supporting wife with kids.

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

Bang I saw another thud in front of me.

And I pulled over to inspect the coffin ahead of me.

Blood all over,

And broken limbs.

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

With no one willing to bother to stop by, forget a willing gesture that one cares,

I put these listless limbs on my wheels.

We spin to the hospital,

To revive these fellow coffin travelers.

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

Back at the hospital,

After some easy yet routine formalities,

They started the treatment,

And we informed the kin of these coffin travelers.

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

 

Another life saved, or may be reborn.

Never neglect a coffin on the highway.

Do help other coffins out of sheer fear or pure duty.

The next coffin could carry your loved ones or you !

 

Coffins on the Highway,

Zip past me.

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Road accidents are on the rise across the world. Statistics apart, what is important is that how responsible are we when we are behind the wheels. Most people consider ‘driving’,  to be a right.  Seldom is it emphasized  that it is a privilege.

Yes there are idiots on the road. At time we ourselves drive idiotically. But may be 90% or more of the accidents can be avoided, provided we drive exercising our privilege responsibly.

Can we more responsible coffin drivers ?

Kids & Pets

Shanaia, our 3 and half year old daughter cheekily asked, “Mama Can we buy a Dog ?”  Mama asked why? And she promptly answered,  ”dogs can catch robbers.” Mama replied with a stern no. Try number two. “Then can we buy a Cat?”  Again a big no from Mama. Then may be a parrot. Mama’s “no” were as prompt as the questions.

How about Fishes?  This one, Shanaia won with 4-3 . Shanaia had smartly calculated, Fishes were one thing mama definitely loves;  if not alive, definitely dead. And that’s when Shanaia knew she had a sealed  her first deal, a Pet.

And I was more than eager to ensure to get a fish tank. I had similar conversations with my mom as  child.  After a long stint of negotiations I was reluctantly allowed to have a fish tank. Graduating from a fish tank I managed to convince my parents to get me a pair of ‘Love birds’. Seeing my passion for pets, one of my uncles had gifted me a pair of ‘Turtles’. And finally for a brief period I had kept  ’White mice’.

By the time Shanaia, grandpa & me were at the pet shop, ‘the child in me’  was revisiting all the special memories I had with all my pets. Growing up with pets was an important experience that I had imbibed.  It had inculcated in me a sense of responsibility, love, care, respect for all living beings. The pain & remorse of losing my fishes & love birds prepared me for harsher realities of life as a child, ‘we all are mortals’.

And now while my daughter is growing up, I would love her to grow with her pets .

Yet there are a few important considerations that one needs to keep in mind before buying pets.

1. Like the amount of time you or your child and spend to take care in maintaining pets in a responsible way.
2. Pets of different kinds are prone to catch infections and also pass it on to humans or in some case trigger pre existing allergies.
3. Do a fair amount of research before buying any pet. From traits, care, breed, to knowing where you are going to place the pets in your house.

Holy Cow !

I spotted this cow on the way back from Shirdi-Nashik highway.  Not sure what was on the mind of the miscreants when they hand printed this helpless animal. Though I do appreciate  art more liberally, this definitely is not my taste of art.

It’s a perfect plot for a crime mystery, the culprits have left their most evident identity, but one still can’t nail them !

In Hinduism, the cow is a symbol of wealth, strength, abundance, selfless giving and a full Earthly life. Religious significance apart, one cannot overlook the fact that  cow is as useful dead as when she is alive. From dairy products to its excrement, right upto it’s hide, cow has versatile uses.

The whole body of knowledge of ‘Branding’ as in Marketing , apparently had its origin in branding livestock. The objective being to indicate ownership.

But isn’t conserving and respecting mute animals more about collective ownership than just claiming ownership?

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When Hunger Strikes!

On my way to office,
I saw a young boy, of a tender age.

With innocence in his face,
And his clothes in a mess.

He begged by the roadside,
With hunger in his eyes.

He was shrugged off by the people,
Like a bug too feeble.

Then a dog passed by him with a loaf of bread,
And he chased the dog with no dread.

Away at a road side gutter,
He ate the stale bread with no ounce of butter.

He shared, the bread with dog besides,
Cause, he knew how it feels in a hungry stomach inside.

Like the dog he had no identity,
Both were the children of the almighty.

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तुझी वाट पाहता

तुझी वाट पाहता 

तुझी वाट पाहता पाहता डोळे भरून आले,

वाचा फुटेना कंठ दाटून आला.

तू आलास असा भास झाला,

नक्की परत येशील हा मनी धस घेतला.

तुझ्या आठवणी मनात आहेत ताज्या,

तुझ्यावाचून जगणे झाली आहे सजा.

आमचा  जीवनाच्या अंती आम्हाला एकटे टाकून गेलास,

तुझ्हा फक्त आसरा हवा होता,

फाफुट पसारा सोडून गेलास.

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बुडूनही जगावे

बुडूनही जगावे  

समूद्र किनार्यावर पाण्यात फक्त पाय घालून येत नाही मजा,

तशीच प्रेमाच्या सागरात बुडाल्या शिवाय येत नाही मजा.

बघणारे म्हणतात अरे हा तर गेला कामातून,

पण बुडणारा म्हणतो, किती बर वाटते पहा तर बुडून.

प्रेमाच्या सागरात नसते कुणाची भीती,

फक्त प्रेमच असते अवती भवती.

प्रेमाच्या सागरात लागत  नाही श्वास,

फक्त मनात असावा विश्वास.

प्रेमाच्या सागरात लागत नाही तहान भूक,

चोहीकडे प्रेमच असते कधी न संपणारे सुख.

प्रेमाच्या सागरात लागत नाही थंडी,

दोन जीवांची उब असते, उबतील सुधा दोन-चार अंडी.

प्रेमाच्या सागरात राहायला लागत नाही भाडे.

एकमेकांच्या हृदयात राहायला कसले आले भाडे.

फक्त काळजी घ्यावी गैर समाजांच्या भाव्र्यांची .

समजून घ्यावी भीती खोल दर्यांची.

असे हे सुंदर जग या प्रेमाच्या सागरात,

बुडूनही जगावे ह्याच सागरात.

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Missed calls and Guilt

Another look at my mobile screen and my guilt pangs are rising by the moment. I have missed office and my virtual world of missed call reports,  mail box and sms could be imagined like a government office desk, struggling to cope with the incoming files and memos.

I am in deep remorse in the knowledge that I have violated all moral standards of  ’modern age communication’ by not attending to those important or less important phone calls and SMS. Someone somewhere needs me more that my aching body down with flu. And all I am doing is ruthlessly blinding myself from replying to any incoming traffic, being simply “insensitive”. Cruel isn’t it ? Not really.

But that’s what to some extent urban living has conditioned us right? Conditioned us to be insensitive to the love, pain, beauty, social inequality, corruption, social issues, family values, parenting, charity, and lastly but most importantly our own bodies and mind. We are getting more and more insensitive to our ill-health, mental or physical. When the body needs rest, we deny it , when the mind needs a time out and wants to take stroll on its own, we deny it. We are all conditioned to be insensitive to ourselves.

In the constant quest to stay connected and not being lost with the conversations around us, all we do it keep pressing the ‘qwerty key pads’ or the ‘ipads’  more vigorously, buy phones or other gadgets that are social networking enabled, with push mail services. Well I am not saying we don’t need theses technologies, sure they are modern tools of modern Homo sapiens. But somewhere all these outward looking gadgets, disconnect us with our own-selves.

Well, my guilt pangs have subsided by now and I think it’s ok to disconnect the outward traffic for a while and let the inward traffic of thoughts hit the superhighway.

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Convenient thinking

When the poor want more money for a raise, they are demanding,

When the rich want more money, well they are more ambitious.

When the poor protest, they are rebelling,

When the rich protest, well they are fighting for a cause.

These differences I can’t understand,

This hypocrisy I can’t stand.

When the poor take to drinking they are hopeless drunkards,

When the rich drink, well they are socializing.

When the poor have no clothes , they can’t afford.

When the rich wear no clothes, well they are fashionable.

These differences I can’t understand,

This hypocrisy I can’t stand.

When the poor are denied their rights, they are not worth it,

When the rich are denied their rights, its human rights violation.

When the poor makes mistakes, they are careless,

When the rich make mistakes, well to err is human.

These differences I can’t understand,

This hypocrisy I can’t stand.

When the poor die, they are just dead,

When the rich die, well it’s a loss of valuable human life.

These differences I can’t understand,

This hypocrisy I can’t stand.

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College Beat

It all started in an admission queue,

When you were alone in a world that was new.

You were scared and anxious,

But determined to make a new beginning and quite curious.

You came across a person, interesting who seemed,

Who made you comfortable and you regained your self-esteem.

Bullied by the peons, and ragged by the seniors,

You felt very embarrassed, and made to feel inferior.

But soon, you made new friends ,

and a group was formed to set new trends.

As  a regular bunker to a default defaulter,

You topped the charts as a black lister.

From college canteen, to outside gutter,

It was your empire shabby no matter.

Then came the first friendship day,

With a number of friendship bands with you at the end of the day.

After a lots of crushes,

And your dreams reduced to ashes.

One fine day you found a soul mate,

And tried hard with all your might, knowing not what was in fate.

And days passed by and so did years,

You could not believe it was the end of your five years.

A time to say goodbye to your old buddies.

And slog pretty harder with your studies.

A time to farewell the bygone days of share and care,

And step into the mean world with a dare.

A time to ponder upon your memories,

And make every attempt to cherish.

But departing won’t part our souls,

Our times together shall unit our souls.

This poem was written in 1999. Now when I look back, it still brings back some fond memories during the college days.

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Auto Pilot-Management lessons

Management lessons can spring up in the most unusual places. The other day I was accompanying my grandmother for some medical investigations. With long waiting time between appointments, my gastronomic juices were giving up.  With my grandma comfortably rested, I headed out the next door eatery.

Normally when I am  eating out alone, my expectations from an eating joints are purely transactional. Hygiene, timely service, with some fresh favorite foods stuff traded for some cash. That’s it.. The foodie in me takes a back seat.

So I walked in this neighbourhood eating joint. This one was not the swanky retail food chains that we encounter in malls, but a mom & pop restaurant. I ordered some ‘Dosa’ and was impatiently waiting for food to be served.  Given it was 9 pm, the waiter who took my order was surprisingly active. Running between tables, hurling the customer orders to the chef in the kitchen. From order taking, to serving to exchanging cash all his mover were well orchestrated. More so he looked cheerful and passionate about what he was doing.

With my food yet to be served, I kept observing the staff. And I was amused to see almost all of them near replicas of the guy who took my order. All neatly dressed, pleasant and cheerful doing their jobs diligently. By then my order was served and promptly savored it.

And just then, right behind the cash counter hung up on the wall , I noticed a photo frame with a picture of presumably the later owner of this eatery. From the look of the frame it looked as if it was placed recently.

I walked to the cash counter to pay my bill, and got into some small chat with the cashier curious to know about the sudden demise of their later owner. I got to know he had passed away about four months back , and since then it was the staff who was managing the whole show. From opening, to buying kitchen groceries, attending customers, handling cash, closing and all  managed by the staff. It seems the one of the owners sons was abroad and the other one in the city, yet remotely involved.

I could not help but dwell deeper on this and two thoughts propped my mind instantly.

1. Work Culture : Amazed at the way this late owner would have managed his staff all these years. The kind of work ethics and culture he must have knowingly, unknowingly imparted to his staff. With no one to watch over the staff was spirited and dedicated to their job.
2. Customer service: The courteous way in which he would have been treating his patrons all this while, putting all the proponents of customer service to shame. Minimal waiting time, no order goof ups, all so meticulously carried out.

The fate of this eatery could be a little uncertain, but one thing for sure, they have one happy patron to count on.

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Muted Cry

Source Unknown-Copyrighted

The recent raids across the Mumbai  city to close in on illegal activities of sex determination are not shocking. Sex determination with an objective of killing an unborn girl child is painfully undesirable but not shocking.  In the pre-sonography days a girl child was brutally murdered after birth. Now,  in the digital age a girl child’s right to birth itself is denied.

There are a lot of statistics of falling sex ratios and social consequences of evident imbalance in the sex ratio.   But is a girl’s life all about statistics? Is it all about so-called social justifications that in India female infanticide is high because of deep-rooted tradition of son preference, expected dowry liabilities etc.

At the end of the day women are still looked upon as objects. Objects that could be manipulated and objectified by anyone.

I found the following meaning of objectification on Wikipedia.

• Instrumentality – if the thing is treated as a tool for one’s own purposes;
• Denial of autonomy – if the thing is treated as if lacking in agency or self-determination;
• Inertness – if the thing is treated as if lacking in agency;
• Ownership – if the thing is treated as if owned by another;
• Fungibility – if the thing is treated as if interchangeable;
• Violability – if the thing is treated as if permissible to damage or destroy;
• Denial of subjectivity – if the thing is treated as if there is no need to show concern for the ‘object’s’ feelings and experiences.

In a nut shell, translating the above in my interpretation , women are still considered to be not one but all of the above.

• Instrumental- A tool for Procreation, Sexual pleasures !
• Denial of autonomy- A mother being denied her right to let her female offspring survive. Denial of choices in life !
• Ownership-Owned by parents, husband, in-laws. societal norms, religious authorities. Physically and mentally !
• Fungibility- Interchangeable- Boy as against a girl. Chocolate ice cream v/s a Strawberry ice cream. Easy isn’t it !
• Voilability- A woman can be used, abused, raped; no questions asked !
• Denial of subjectivity- No concern for the pain and tribulations of an unborn foetus,  no concern for the mother’s feelings and life long experiences of guilt !

And believe me unfortunately this interpretation would  not change across the length and breadth of Indian rural-urban geographies.

There could be more abortions in urban India considering the fact that access to pre natal sex determination test would have more penetration here. No wonder sex screening and abortion clinics are booming in the middle eastern and Asian countries, fed by Indian nationals. Sure enough, the poor villager does not have these destinations on his or her mind.

So what can eradicate this social evil ? I believe technology is a big enabler. What if  Sonography instruments  can  connect to a server, relaying data of the doctor, clinic details, location, patients name, demographic details, number of visits for check up, periodicity of check ups etc.  Finally bringing about adequate checks and measures to minimize the offences.  Well the system must be thought through.

I had written the following poem way back in 2001. I had an assignment to create a social awareness campaign as part of one of my class room assignments.

Silent Cry-In the darkness of a Womb

Deep in the darkness of the womb,
A baby is sleeping, in it’s cosy room.

Mother will keep baby warm,
And take care it, to keep it away from all the harms

The baby’s arrival will bring everyone joy,
With mixed curiosity, whether it’s a girl or a boy.

Cos, if it’s a boy, it’s a matter of pride,
And if it’s a girl, then she will be a liable bride.

So they try to detect the sex of the child,
And to know that she is a girl, drives them wild.

As Prevention is better than cure,
They say abortion is the only cure.

The baby’s cries echoes in the womb,
Mother would you let me die in your womb.

But, there is no one to hear the Silent cry,

It is there all alone; and it is just a futile try.

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Facebook page of a Toddler

I am not an avid Facebook user . Yet whenever I am working on my laptop at home my daughter conveniently places herself next to me, curious to know what I am doing.

With the level of laptop/computer  penetration in most urban households and most parents conveniently browsing Facebook, the Gen Next is already getting social site savvy.  I won’t be surprised that the future classrooms will be social network enabled.

And I couldn’t resist imagining what would be a typical  Facebook page of a toddler look like.

Let me know if you relate to this one.

Face Book Page of a Toddler

Apple Pie

Don’t know what they fed me yesterday..Definitely smells bad!!

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Shopaholic Nappy

Under house arrest for long..Time to shop lift at Malls

7 nappies like this.

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Lovey Eyes

My latest crush…Ben 10

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Twinkle eyes He is mine !

Game breaker

Just broke open my new remote car, they all are the same inside L

20 nappies like this.

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Gizmo pants  Try all till you get the one that’s different dude!

Party animal

Birthdays are fun, every gift I give, gets me a return gift J

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Chocó teeth

Gums hurting, guess I am getting a new tooth.. help me!

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Fatso Bum

Mac D or Pizza.. any suggestions

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Game Breaker Mac D dude..toys are everything.

Mama’s boy

Mama says milk is healthy…I trust her

5 nappies dislike this.

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Chota Bheem

Dholkapur is no more safe, with all the chocolate thieves. Time for action

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Jr. Einstein took a quiz where do babies come from

Supermarkets 80%

Circus 40%

Alien attack 30%

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>Open Books

Every day I walk down the street, busy people gliding on their feet.

Hundreds of faces passing by, heading to destinations, you would wonder where?

One look into theie eyes & you can see, lost souls in deep thoughts, deeper than the sea.

Mark has a job to find, just a carrier break that’s on his mind.

Alan has a loan to pay, bigger than his pockets can weigh.

Don’t you see what I see, people are open books I can read.

Shetal has a picture of a guy in her eyes, one she loves but cannot stand his lies.

Jim is hoping for a raise, praying someone appreciates his work and utters a raise.

Don’t you see what I see, people are open books I can read.

Reena has got divorce papers to file, to get rid of her cheating husband, and go away in exile.

Jerry just had an HIV test, doc says, sixty days and he may rest.

Don’t you see what I see, people are open books I can read.

Ralph has dirty money in his pants, a place to blow up is all that he wants.

Raj  is waiting for his pension to come, cause his kids are saying dad we are done.

Don’t you see what I see, people are open books I can read.

At the corner of the street poor Child is craving for just a roti,

With hunger in his eyes, he is  afraid he may never see the dawn again.

Don’t you see what I see, people are open books I can read.

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>What’s stopping me ?

>A few years back I was contemplating to take up a course I was long resisting. I got a distinction between a conversation; ‘Why are you not doing the course?’ and ‘What’s stopping you from taking up the course?’

The latter is actually a very powerful way of inquiry. It does not put a person in a spot.When you ask someone ‘what is stopping you?’ the context of the conversation changes altogether. It’s an empowering inquiry that the person does not resit.

What’s stopping me ?

>Fish Tank

>

Imagine a water tank with only pure water flowing into it. It has beautiful fishes, all swimming in their own rhythm. And then one day the tank starts getting filled with dirty water. The fishes in the tank grow sluggish. Hovering at the top of the tank to gasp some oxygen. The dirty water is filling the tank faster than the pristine water.

The dirty water also brings with it some fishes. Fishes, those are used to the dirty water. Slowly the fresh water fishes are all dead.Will the dirty water fish still survive? Why not, they are so used to the dirty water; right? But the dirty water also brings with it lots of sludge. Slowly the sludge fills up the tank bottom up. The dirty water fishes also now start moving to the top of the tank,gasping for oxygen. And then one day, all that is left in the tank is nothing but the sludge.

Now the tank itself is not capable of holding any more water, pure or dirty.

Our life is also very much the same. In real life, there are a number of instances when good and bad collide. Just like the tank example, we let the bad thoughts,emotions,experiences or actions

flow faster than the good. If the pristine water were to flow faster than the impure water, the pure water would have displaced the impurity like a waterfall juts with pure water.

>The Death Of a Family Physician

>

Achuu!! This was my 16^th sneeze in the past ten minutes. I was drained as usual with this periodic bout of sneeze attacks. In the interim break from the sneezes, I glanced through the swine flu advisory i had cut from one of the daily bulletins. It’s just one of the symptoms I said to myself. ‘Nothing to panic’, I made an instant autosuggestion to my already sluggish brain. Another rapid fire round of ear numbing sneezes and I packed my bag to leave for home. Between a doctor’s visit and self medication, I have been choosing the latter.

Well, that wasn’t me, at least till the time I moved in my new neighbourhood few years ago. While in my old dwelling place, I was fortunate to have an intelligent and caring family physician, who had his own practice in the neighbourhood. A doctor, who knew as much about his patients, as much as the knowledge he had about medical practice. What I appreciated about him was the absence of ‘I know all’ haughty attitude which a number of medical practitioners displayed. Though his diagnosis was usually correct, on specific occasions he would refer to other MD doctors for quicker diagnosis or prescribe a battery of test well in time.

I have been noticing an influx of specialty and super speciality hospitals in the metros, however, I have not seen as many as new generations of general physicians doing an independent practice. Blame it on the mall culture, or whatever, just like the friendly neighbourhood grocery store, general family physicians could be finding it difficult to survive. Unless a doctor has an established practice, affordability of rents and expenses like staff and electricity is not for every general practitioner. And seldom if one were to come across a general physician, the clinic would be bursting with patients, actively acquiring more viral infections and disseminating it to the unaffected lot.

Won’t a timely and accurate check up by a family physician, cut down on the bout of viral and malarial cases we are witnessing? Well that may not be the only answer, but one thing for sure, the breed of family physicians is getting rare by the day.

Well for me, my reckless self medication has spared me a visit to the hospital this time and I am back in action.

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>Honey I cloned the kids!

>Do we regard our children as an extension of ourselves? Just the way our clothes, homes, cars and gadgets have become an extension of ourselves. Just mere an expression of our status to the world.

Do we fail to recognize or appreciate the unique individuality of our children? An insane way of self absorption, wherein we are oblivious to their identify and blossom into what they dream to be. And yet expect then to succeed in their lives, well as per our expectations, our unfulfilled and dreams, fantasies; that were clipped in the bud in our childhood.

To love our children is to know the pain of separateness. But we don’t dare to endure the pain. Not because we as parents cannot bear it now, but we rarely were conditioned to bear it in our young days. Separateness is physical as well as in thoughts. Sameness brings forth comfort, mitigates fear of isolation.

And while we are relentless in taming our children to adopt our traits, likes, aspirations, fears, they may or may adopt our thoughts and ways; sure enough they will learn how to make replicas of their own self.

Mandar Karnik

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(Excerpt : The road less traveled_M.Scott Peck)

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of the Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You my strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward not tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrow may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archers’s hand be for gladness;

For even He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the blow that is stable.

>Silent Cry-Darkness of the Womb

>Deep in the darkness of the womb,
A baby is sleeping, in it’s cosy room.

Mother will keep baby warm,
And take care it, to keep it away from all the harms

The baby’s arrival will bring everyone joy,
With mixed curiousity, whether it’s a girl or a boy.

Cos, if it’s a boy, it’s a matter of pride,
And if it’s a girl, then she will be a liable bride.

So they try to detect the sex of the child,
And to know that she is a girl, drives them wild.

As Prevention is better than cure,
They say abortion is the only cure.

The baby’s cries echoes in the womb,
Mother would you let me die in your womb.

But, there is no one to hear the Silent cry,
It is there all alone; and it is just a futile try.