Musings

A child longs to grow up quickly For then the whole world can be fixed seamlessly A grown up longs to turn back the clock For then there is a whole new world to unlock A student longs for that very first day at work For there doing something meaningful is a perk A working person longs to go back to student days For there is fun and learning in lots of different ways A small town dweller longs to move to the city For then there can be found opportunities aplenty A city dweller longs for a quiet small place For then there is plenty of peace and solace An ordinary man longs for the glittering world of fame and glory For then of luxury, comfort and recognition there is a flurry A famous person longs for those days of anonymity For then solitude is really that welcome feeling of gaiety Life is full of paradoxes If everyone’s wishes were named boxes It would be just a matter of making choices simple To enter that elusive world of happiness eternal

In school, we have all learnt about great poets, their command over the language and their remarkable skill of using a very few words and yet conveying a wealth of meaning. We looked forward to the language classes where we were mesmerized by such literary geniuses as William Wordsworth, S.T. Coleridge and R.L. Stevenson. The present day Wordsworth and Keats can now be spotted among the SMS generation. College kids lead this new wave of wizards who economize on words and they can be recognized by fingers flying at supersonic speeds on the keypads of their mobile phones. They don’t let the surroundings and company intimidate them. You can find them tapping away furiously on their mobile phones in restrooms, movie theaters, restaurants (where they manage to talk to their partners and also type at the same time) and public transport (with one hand holding on to support for dear life and the other hand typing away). U hv 2 c it 2 b’lieve it. Dis is a lingo dat sum hv bcum xperts @. Dey r q...

Dressed in faded jeans and a worn red blouse With a strong purpose I leave the house Walking past the bakery and the bus station I finally reach my favorite destination Wrapped in layers of warm wool I look around casually and feel quite cool Sitting in a cozy corner near the warmth of a fire For its warmth to take away the chill I aspire Caught in the harshness of the cold breeze I rub my hands to not let them freeze Cutting through the throng trying to warm up There comes the man with a steaming cup With a nod and a smile, he walks away Taking in the sweet aroma, I gently lift it from the tray Drinking the first sip and slowly savoring the taste I promise myself not to finish it in haste Feeling the warm liquid trickling down my throat In a cloud of happiness and optimism I float Enjoying the last sip, courage and strength I get To take on the world, I am now all set

Back in my childhood days in the eighties, Television was a luxury only the rich could afford. Good quality TVs were generally imported from Singapore which was the electronics haven in those days. Singapore flight passengers could be seen, surrounded by a minimum of 4-5 huge boxes, standing in long queues to clear customs at the airport. There were also the Desi brands – the Dyanoras and the Solidaires that were owned by people who couldn’t afford a trip to Singapore to get a international brand TV. In my small hometown, there were only two TVs for the entire neighborhood and the Indian government controlled Doordarshan was the emperor of the TV world. TV antennas would literally reach the sky. We would be especially friendly with the kids from these houses in order to wheedle an invitation to watch some TV. Returning home from school, I would dump my school bag on the bed, quickly change out of the school uniform, drink the dreaded milk and gathering all other friends, run to meet my...

Over the years, there are a lot of superstitions I have been told about, mostly by my grandmother and mother. The other evening, I was clipping my nails and my mother asked me to be careful not to let the nails fall on the floor. If someone steps on the nails, it is supposed to bring unpleasantness between the two people involved. The rational part of me says I should not pay heed to these superstitions, being a modern educated and rational woman. But there is this other part of me that feels there must be something I am missing in all this. My grandmother was not very highly educated. She studied till tenth grade before marriage and children put an end to her studies. But I respect her for her intelligence and astuteness. My mother is well read and if she also believes in some of these superstitions, there has to be a reason. When she tells me to stop doing something and says it’s not good to do this or that, in true daughterly fashion, I think she is just trying to get me to stop doi...

Recently, when I was traveling back from US to India, there was a 4 hour layover in Paris Charles De Gaulle airport. The in-flight meals were not too great. The in-flight entertainment gave me good company. I had watched two back to back movies and was quite tired when we finally landed in CDG. I had managed just over an hour of sleep on the flight from Boston to Paris and was hoping to get some shut-eye in CDG. But hunger pangs voted out my sleep plans. We were down to our last few dollars and didn’t have much money to indulge in fancy food. We went in search of a café in the airport to have a light breakfast. We knew we could not rely on the meals served in the flight and needed some reinforcement for the nine hour flight ahead. We went to this café in CDG. I got myself a Pain Au Chocolat and Cappuccino with some reservations about my choices. But, the minute I bit into the bread, it simply melted in my mouth. It was truly delicious and the coffee was excellent too, worth spending o...

This is the second book that I have read by Mary Higgins Clark. I like her style of writing. The novelty in this book is that the killer is introduced right in the beginning and he/she talks about how the whole killing act started and what he/she plans to do next. Of course, the killer's identity is revealed only in the end although you can guess somewhere in the middle of the book who the killer is. The story is about a couple of women (Erin and Darcy) wanting to help a friend who is doing research on the dangers of answering personal ads. They decide to answer the ads to contribute to the research. Erin goes missing and is found killed. Darcy is the one who had suggested that they help their friend and also have some harmless fun meeting interesting people. She is driven by guilt and is determined to find the killer. Darcy discovers that Erin is one of many such victims. There is the usual whole bunch of suspects cleverly woven into the story based on the clues found and the comm...