Happy Diwali and An apricot

Tomorrow is Diwali. It is one of the most celebrated festivals of India. Countless presents are exchanged, sweets are distributed and everyone tried their level best to buy new clothes, crackers and some candles to usher in this day according to their economic capability. Big or small, we all love this festival of lights.

I run a small evening school and we have roughly close to 100 children. So, keeping in mind that its Diwali I have been holding joint lectures for all ages and we build up the picture of the festival, first discussing the words that describe the festive occasion and then the complete essay. The school is for the lower middle class, underprivileged classes who have no access to English or math’s tutoring. Thus, we were talking about dry fruits and what they mean.

Lots of children associated with it, because they eat them as a part of the dry Prasad given at temples, jagraatas!  So all said and done, everyone understood, class was dismissed and they came back the next day and we all discussed the essay. Nothing eventful, everyone wrote about the sanctity, the lights and the joy and the bursting of crackers (new word for them).

In the end, a little girl came up to me and she had something clenched in her hand. I looked at her and asked her what she wanted to say. In her hand, tightly clenched was a plastic bag. From that bag she took out, a dried piece of apricot. I looked at her and she said I saved the last piece for you.

This is a true gift that cannot be equaled. From a little girl from Rajasthan (migrant labor) a gift unparalleled. She explained to me, the meaning of Diwali and the fact that sometimes it does make a difference. In a society that is becoming extremely class conscious sometimes it helps to listen to the inner voice . I never thought it would spiral into something like this..

Happy Diwali , and try giving the next street kid a little something , the smile will warm your heart longer.

Mera Chicken khurana

The last domain of the Punjabis has been invaded. Slowly and slowly my state is losing all its medals and all that its been known for, in the glorious history of India. We were known as the forerunner in agricultural productivity in wheat and rice. That has also been stripped away from the state known for its progressive hardy farmers. Then, came the question about milk and suddenly all that came forward was that Gujarat had revolutionized the ladies (behind the ghungats they wore) and overnight the worlds largest cooperative society was making waves and we all fell

Utterly butterly deliciously in love’ with cute dimpled Amul girl who became the guardian of the aam aadmi before Kejriwal.

And then, my erstwhile deputy Cm went hunting for investment for the state to rescue it from the perceived financial doldrums we are in. Apparently, we have a debt of Rs xyz breaking our backs, and we have sunk in drug stupor and the funniest medal bestowed on us is that we might assassinate our leaders.

And then, the last but not the least the last bastion of my state, my character, my genetic structure got invaded, chicken, you know apna kukkad. The Gujjus are going to source it for us.

Yaar what is this? My chicken khurrana is becoming chicken Ambani. Just imagine, the recipes. Does everything have to be business? You know, every aunty south of Amritsar and even the Khala ji and Appa ji across the border have their secret recipe that adds the extra zing to the butter chicken recipe. Every Punjabi worth his Punjabi genes and his love for murga swears by the cream, and the makhan. As an NRI, sent me this comment from KFC land saying uff not possible to eat mitha chicken.

Yaaron, apni izzat da swaal hain , imagine chawla chicken replaced by khaitan ! In this let the taste buds rule rather than commerce and let the Punjabi chicken remain true to us.

Ps last heard the Pakistani Punjabi called it truce with India over this, and Sukhbir Badal ji was hailed as the new peacemaker. He succeeded where all failed to stop the shelling at the border. As, they say the buds (taste) do make us one.

Mera Piya- pyaaz and doodh

Mera Piya – Pyaaz and Doodh

It is a night, where I wait for the moon to come out patiently, eagerly, with reverence so that my husband has a long life. I wish and pray for his life, a healthy wealthy one. As always, the moon plays hide and seek and doesn’t even confirm to the times so declared. I stand on the rooftop, clad in a Kareena Kapoor Khan sari with a channani ‘ to look at my piya! I am dressed to kill, with make up, hair rebounded, nails painted, mehendi applied, faint with hunger thinking about the lavish meal prepared by Basanti. I also did my prayers with the rest of the women on Whatsapp ‘ in tandem with women all over the friend.

Maybe, with this fast I might have lost weight and I have certainly learnt loads of patience. What, happened though is the unique bond and camaderie that has sprung up between all of us. In fact, what surprised me more was the gift I received, it transported me to the Asterix and Obelix comics I read as a little young girl smiling away to eternity and to my own special world. Imagine my surprise, I get the most precious gift which every housewife in India dreams of onions and mother dairy milk. India, as Arnab Goswami says is facing a doodh crisis; so my pati parmeshwar gave me a sack full of onions that are worth its weight not in gold but petrol. Imagine something so basic is being equated with petrol! And milk, how am I going to survive without my umpteen cups of chai and coffee..

Just imagine, drinking tea and coffee with a drop of milk just like the Britishers! Ah, the joys of milky tea and coffee, so in my Punjabi genes.

This karva chauth has been extraordinary for me, a wonderful group I belong to, and exchanging sorrows, happiness and the assured unlimited supply of onions and my ration of milk. Other women , boast of smart phones, and diamonds, designer clothes and bags well I am in culinary heaven.

Can’t eat the diamonds, can I?

Dear God

Dear God,

 To keep it simple, I’m referring him as God, forget about how he is addressed by the rest of the 7.2 billion people that live on the planet with me. Also, to keep it really short, I am referring to Him as Him, we can discuss the feminist, the dual identity or the higher force later on. Till, then May the force be with you. In India, we all leave everything to Bhagwan.

It is his marzi if we survive, its his marzi if the nukkad wala uncle is beating his wife, its his marzi if the water is not coming in the pipes, its even his marzi if the young girl dies in her prime due to cancer; its even his greater marzi that Odhisa gets struck with a typhoon and the state escapes with minimal deaths. It’s not thanks to disaster management, but it’s his marzi that the stampede occurs in MP and 113 people lose their lives.

God, On behalf of us lesser mortals, I apologize to you. I am so sorry we have stopped taking onus for our faults, our own shortcomings but have started laying the blame on your doorstep. I know it’s a haloed one, and you just smile and take on everything but we need to sit up and take action. And not be complacent and smug and say its bhagwan Ki marzi. People dying, accidents happening, girls being born, all are our doing. We need to stop, giving you the blame.

Indians at a large have become lazy, ignorant to their advantage and also morally corrupt. The defense given here by us is that it has been carrying on for so long and due to media intervention it is being highlighted and sensationalized to achieve the target of maximum TRP’s. Life in short is a media circus along with projections.

I meet old, young , ordinary people of India of rural Punjab who all are smug and take what is happening to them as Bhagwan/ Rabb ki marzi. Punjab , right now faces an epidemic of substance and drug abuse but all we do say is its everywhere , and rabb di marzi that the youth got caught in it !

When are we going  to stop laying all the troubles on God’s door? And pick up our own backside and do something. God ji , I apologize and hope the next generation that believes in You as a face book page works and solves the mess we are in .

Yours truly,

A believer and who swears by Bhagwan Ki Marzi 

Dear God

Dear God,

 To keep it simple, I’m referring him as God, forget about how he is addressed by the rest of the 7.2 billion people that live on the planet with me. Also, to keep it really short, I am referring to Him as Him, we can discuss the feminist, the dual identity or the higher force later on. Till, then May the force be with you. In India, we all leave everything to Bhagwan.

It is his marzi if we survive, its his marzi if the nukkad wala uncle is beating his wife, its his marzi if the water is not coming in the pipes, its even his marzi if the young girl dies in her prime due to cancer; its even his greater marzi that Odhisa gets struck with a typhoon and the state escapes with minimal deaths. It’s not thanks to disaster management, but it’s his marzi that the stampede occurs in MP and 113 people lose their lives.

God, On behalf of us lesser mortals, I apologize to you. I am so sorry we have stopped taking onus for our faults, our own shortcomings but have started laying the blame on your doorstep. I know it’s a haloed one, and you just smile and take on everything but we need to sit up and take action. And not be complacent and smug and say its bhagwan Ki marzi. People dying, accidents happening, girls being born, all are our doing. We need to stop, giving you the blame.

Indians at a large have become lazy, ignorant to their advantage and also morally corrupt. The defense given here by us is that it has been carrying on for so long and due to media intervention it is being highlighted and sensationalized to achieve the target of maximum TRP’s. Life in short is a media circus along with projections.

I meet old, young , ordinary people of India of rural Punjab who all are smug and take what is happening to them as Bhagwan/ Rabb ki marzi. Punjab , right now faces an epidemic of substance and drug abuse but all we do say is its everywhere , and rabb di marzi that the youth got caught in it !

When are we going  to stop laying all the troubles on God’s door? And pick up our own backside and do something. God ji , I apologize and hope the next generation that believes in You as a face book page works and solves the mess we are in .

Yours truly,

A believer and who swears by Bhagwan Ki Marzi