Beginning of Civilization

Do you know that there is a tribe in Andaman Islands which is set of islands East of India? It is an integral part of India. There are quite a few tribes in these islands which are perhaps as old as the beginning of the civilization. There are two tribes whose name come to my mind, one is Jarawa and  the other is Sentinelese. The population of them is 450 and perhaps 40 (approximately) respectively. Though nowadays Jarawas have come into  higher contact with civilization, Sentinelese still maintain a significant distance from civilized society. They are an essentially hunter-gatherer society subsisting through hunting, fishing, and collecting wild plants; there is no evidence of either agricultural practices or methods of producing fire.[1] Their language remains unclassified.    

Given a chance of time travel we all would like to visit our past, to the beginning of the civilization. If I could pause my life and go to stay with them.It would be so nice to be a part of the society of nomads.Joining one of the several groups that stay with them in an unnamed islands of Andaman Islands.

Part of group, of being sheltered by a family, if they have that concept. I will become one of the warriors out to hunt for fishes with my bow or javelin catching fish from the sea. Bringing the catch to one of the beauty who is part of the group and falling in love with her. Having consummate relationship where to increase my acts of aggression or to control me lovingly cuddling me be a part of our lives. Where the beautiful breeze blowing from the sea would caress us, makes us come closer without language being a barrier. In-fact relationship should cross the limits of physicality and reach the emotional levels.

Life would be so much more simple without tensions of modern day. No religious barrier in love or living, no fanaticism only life of love and romanticism. Daily learning the nature from her with out disturbing the ecosystem or plundering the same in name of development. Well if I reach there will I will ever be able to come back to this life. Life would be so much more peaceful as Thomas Hardy would say ‘Far from the Madding crowd’.

Will that struggle for existence again make me wonder whether this is what I want. Will it make want to come back to this life with all its comfort, with all its short comings. Even if I have this urge to return will my new found love come along with me. Will not knowing the language, our inablity to communicate become a hurdle in our relationship. What if she refuses will I not come back? Whether here or anywhere else I think love is the only thing that binds us together, language or no language.

I would also learn more about mother nature. How to read the first rumblings of the earth to understand about coming of an earthquake or a Tsunami. How to be forewarned about natures fury and take measures to save ones own self. Were they not the people who took evasive measures to escape the Great Tsunami of 2004.

To add to it it would be much more easier then learning about progression of life then watching animated and acted telecast on Discovery or Nat Geo Channel.

Lastly while reading about this Daily prompt aloud with all my astonishment I heard Mrs Crooked Eybrows suggesting that I should go and live with the Jarawas or Sentinelese and learn what life is, what love is instead of staying glued to my Desktop. This is her idea which I am trying to develop.


Life moves on

‘Difficulties in your life do not come to destroy you, but to help you realize your hidden potential and power,let difficulties know that you too are difficult.’ Well the most difficult part in our life is to decide what is junk. What we do not need. What is that which is inhibiting us from reaching our potential.

While shifting through the old things in our stores we may come across those crazy comics which we used to hide underneath our books in the school. What are they now but useless booklets, nothing but junk. Today’s generation finds it more interest to surf through the internet. Yet those comics are so difficult for us to throw away as they of certain emotional value. Emotion value?? Bullshit. Sentimental value. Of no use still stored just for the heck of it.

Whatever is junk now was precious to us at a certain point of life. It is very difficult for you to just throw away anything that had importance attached to it at some point in life. I am not not talking about broken / useless piece of furniture or unused or unusable dinner set.

We have some set of ideas from past which are now just out of place and can be thought of as junk. It is difficult to junk them because we have grown up believing them. To uproot those ideas are not just difficult but near to impossible. The only way is pure scientific and logical explanation which is based on hard facts and steers clears of any assumption and then you will have a platform to stand upon to throw away that junk which has grown up on you. If somebody came to you and said that Sun revolves around Earth you would just ignore, pity that man thinking him to be insane. The same thought would have been perfectly normal before Galileo came into picture. Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler proved it beyond doubt that the truth was that the Earth moved around the Sun like Seven other Planets (Pluto not being considered a planet any more). Human race junked the idea of Sun revolving around the Earth.

Similarly we need to have a solid basis to throw away the junk that has accumulated in our lives. As far as my way of dumping the Junk is concerned I have to get updated with newer ideas, newer views from both who know much more then me and from those who see life from a completely different perspective. As far as newer perspective is concerned it is such a delight to mingle and see the views of the current generation. They have completely different take on many things in life. Younger people bring in newer perspectives, wonder which is almost infective. It helps us to get to different plane and have different take on things. Sometimes my junks change from a junk to useful tool but mostly they get dumped and newer set of ideas fill up that space.

Well life is like that. No space is kept empty. Junk removed newer ideas come in. Life moves on.

Committed Bloggers

Well the rains are again erratic this year. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has been continuously harping upon reducing green house gases and for economic reasons all the governments are tending to ignore the same. This has been going on since the inception of IPCC in 1988. There has been significant increase in the sea levels from 1901 levels which must be around 20cm now and many islands are threatened. There are alternate droughts and heavy rainfall leading to floods and this is happening across the world. The Governments of all the countries are sparring as usual on who should reduce emissions first USA, Europe, China, India or Latin America. Who has bigger carbon foot print. Busy with Carbon Foot Print let the human species go to dogs.

Water is the reason why the countries are ready to destroy each other, so oil takes backseat after being in limelight for more or less a century. Religious bigotry still rules and independent terrorist organizations are ready to kill or maim in the name of religion. All of them are now non state sponsored but independently funded. The truth is that states that were happy sponsoring terrorists as a part of their foreign policy have mostly disintegrated into smaller units. The credit for the same goes to the terrorists they have harboured or trained.

Only states where democracy was there have remained despite all pulls and pushes.Free speech and social networking sites have been one of the most important reasons of flowering of democracy in many countries across the world, though they have been used for spreading rumours time and again.

Literature has changed over a period of time and now people read either e-books or are busy going through Daily prompts or similar online sites. With age catching up and life becoming even more fast it is the only place where I relax and read similar minded people. I still have the same approach of looking at every thing from my point of view and write in the first person. With many more bloggers coming in it has become a competition on who posts fastest, who has most followers and who is somebody in the blogging community. Times change our language becomes more refined we mature up both as person and as blogger but unique style remains. We may have different interests but we remain committed bloggers.

Who is the boss

Got up late and just wanted to be in time for that important meeting. The watch was moving at a furious speed, time running out reached the meeting at sharp 9. My habit is to be at-least 10 minutes before the scheduled time.  Mr. X, my know all superior smiled checked his watch and as if to himself said,”Ah, Just in time”. We all got ready for his small story, making all of us wish that he should have taken up storytelling as his profession. We were sure he would have remained the poorest storyteller in the world. Reality was that he was our superior, so we had endure his story.

‘Time has its own way of passing. When you are with your girlfriend / boyfriend it is always in hurry but when you are in a meeting with me and your project is being analyzed it just does not seem to pass. Agreed Ladies and Gentlemen.’ This was today’s small story which meant it was going to be a bad meeting for all of us. We braced ourselves up for the coming torrents of pokes and refined doses of abuse, which hurt but left you with little scope of retaliating.

True time had its peculiar ways of either speeding up or slowing down. I am bubbling with something to write but have to squeeze it in an hour.Every minute detail is in my mind with complete sketch of the things to write, character build up to twists and turns to the climax. Nothing left to chance. Sitting at the work station my ideas flowing at great speed, my fingers typing as fast as they could but as I look up before I am able to finish first part my hour is over.

Now I am in the mid way and all my thoughts are tuned to my story but I have to finish my presentation with all the numerical spread sheets. So with great difficulty I am able switch my creative writer and go to my analyzer brain. Keeping a time limit of finishing the presentation within couple of hours I get to work. Work takes over. Presentations made figure work checked, rechecked when the work is finished i have not only consumed my two hours but added two more to them.

Looking at my watch I see it is quite late  but no need to worry with weekend setting in I can afford to be late in getting up tomorrow. I sit down for my story again. I read the part I have already finished and now with full enthusiasm of finishing the story I am on my computer. The words start failing me. As I fret for right words it seems time has come to standstill. Neither the words come nor the time moves. It is just frustration. I sit as if for hours to get my words but watch tells I am sitting just for five minutes.

Actually time has its own way when you are trying to do a lot at a great speed, it has habit of showing that it is faster then you. Again when you have time and you will just finish and then get up, it decides to slow down because it perhaps knows that this guy is going to need me and I have to wait for him. It bends to suit itself to show that who is the boss.

Y u wanna kno dis

2 wr8 abt 2100 is lk wr8ng abt mslf. v alws use ths lngug bt no slng. Dey nd 2 b xplct n v nt thngls u gys wan 2 kno. i dnt undrstnd y u r in so hari 2 kno abt 2100 lt it komin.Ne way sinc u wan 2 kno, dis strtd in wen sms kem in on ur mobile. V use it in skool now. Our tichar kno only dis lngug de hv usd it 4 lst 87 yrs Dis pickd up aftr prmpt 4rm wrdprez.

Naw som of u wanna kno y u don udrstnd den ask ur son or dowter dey kno abt it very wel. U no undrstnd b’coz u wanna bcom wr8r, so u use wrdprez. N dey gib u dis prmpt 2 mek nu lngug.C d fun.

Advntg of dis lngug is dere is no mistek b’coz if u n e 1 can undrstnd den dis is rite. 2 ad u don nid 2  wr8 much b’coz  u use less word to give mor infrmeson. naw Gud ni8 2 all of u kip liking n folowin . May God Bless U all.


I was going through a very turbulent phase in my carrier and suddenly this news came that I was given a new assignment which was very difficult but  I needed a chance to prove myself to myself.Actually through the turbulent times I clung to the belief that “If one dream fall and break into thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.” (Flavia Weedn). Now that chance had come and I could begin.

A little skeptical that will I be able to justice to the job at hand. I started to motivate myself. I kept repeating Napoleon Hills saying “If you cannot do great things, do small things in great way” Enthusiasm was my only weapon with all of which I started to put in  maximum effort to learn  about my new assignment. Task at hand was difficult but “Success is walking from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm” (Winston Churchill)

Lots of effort and complete team work gave us desired results which I along with team managed to accomplish. My colleagues achieved results beyond my dreams. We were given few more tasks which were even more challenging. Team members became even more enthusiastic to achieve far more better results. There were times when I became a little apprehensive, my colleagues would try to inspire me. I had this habit of using quotation of to encourage so they took same path and they normally used one quotation many times. It was Thomas Edison’s “Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration”.

It almost seemed that we were being challenged time and again. In the end we were given  back our position. We were again given back our original position with extra responsibility given to me. Two of my colleagues were given independent positions to lead their own team.

On the day we were to take up newer assignments I was asked to prep up my team for newer responsibilities . I stood up and said to my team, ” As is my habit to always use quotation to inspire you I will tell you one which I said to myself all the time when my chips were down. This is what Rabindranath Tagore said ‘Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky’.” I don’t know what they understood but they just clapped and clapped. I got my biggest award.

Stand Still, O Beautiful End

With great trepidation I looked at the news item which screamed ‘The country’s first Nobel Prize, won by Rabindranath Tagore, way back in 1913, has been stolen. Both the medal and the citation are gone from the safety vault of the museum of Visva Bharati University, Santiniketan. Along with the Nobel, several other personal belongings of Tagore have also been stolen.’ All kinds off emotion rushed into me.

Who can steal a Nobel Prize? What will they do with it? Why steal a Nobel Prize? You cannot just put it in your showcase and show it to people that you have won a Nobel Prize. By stealing the prize you cannot be owner of the body of work of the poet whose two songs are national anthem of two different countries (India and Bangladesh). Even the National Anthem of Sri Lanka Sri Lanka Matha is translation of his poem by Ananda  Samarakoon, his student. He wrote nearly 2230 songs, 8 Novels, 84 stories, and nearly 1600 poems. At the age of 60 he took up painting which were unique in his own style. He also wrote essays, travelogues and set foot in 35 countries in 5 continents. Infact he was the first non European to win Nobel Prize for Literature.

Futile rage encompassed me. Feeling helpless I cursed everyone from the security staff to the politicians  for tis utter stupidity of the administration of Visva Bharati to keep the original on display instead of replicas, otherwise to have fool proof security with camera et al. to save the original.

Looking for comfort I had no other way but to reach out to the great poet to give me solace. Two poems gave me some solace.


Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of
heaven for our earth.
He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his
mother’s face.
He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after
Clasp him to your heart and bless him.
He has come into this land of an hundred cross-roads.
I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door,
and grasped you hand to ask his way.
He will follow you, laughing the talking, and not a doubt in
his heart.
Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him.
Lay your hand on his head, and pray that though the waves
underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may come and
fill his sails and waft him to the heaven of peace.
Forget him not in your hurry, let him come to your heart and
bless him.

Rabindranath Tagore
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way
Well if could make that moment stand still I would have just replaced the original medallion and the citation with a copy so that those theifs could have worked very hard to take the fake ones with them only to find replicas available at the souvenir shop


Peace my heart…

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

~Rabindranath Tagore

– See more at:

Peace my heart…

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.

~Rabindranath Tagore

– See more at:

Well Past Midnight

It was well past midnight. I was driving down Park Street in my car at  a gentle speed windows rolled down to enjoy fresh air. With absolutely desolate roads I had almost whole of the stretch to myself. Instead zooming off I decided to drive around at 40 kms/hr. That would give me all the time in the world to revisit my past, plan out my future.Traffic police seemed most uninterested in a loner driving almost at snail’s pace in an empty road.

My life had started in something that can be termed as poor financial conditions compared to what I do now. We lived in a rented single room with just a kitchen in the metropolis. Water was always a problem and the community tap always had long queue of buckets lined up. One had to fetch water from there and it was my duty to return from school run out with the bucket and place our two buckets in the queue. Quarrels were common which almost always started on who had jumped the queue and ended in slanging match. Somehow I or my mother were almost always spread as we would keep quiet despite being baited.

Once the buckets filled up put in our bathroom by me and my mother I was free to participate in our game of cricket. I was always in the team as I was the only one who had a bat, most essential item on the cricket field. After seven in the evening it was time to study your lessons and sit down for dinner and going to bed all in the same room. We did not have a television but had a radio which my father had made. It was with valves, diodes, triodes and pentode. It took a lot of time to start as the valves had to get heated up first and then only started functioning. My father had a bicycle which was his mode of traveling to his office.

As years passed by he went up the ladder, our financial condition improved slowly. Our cheerfulness, our enjoying small pleasures kept us going all through. I still distinctly remember how excited we were when my father purchased a scooter. We just wanted it displayed always. I had that pleasure again when I purchased my Motorcycle after I got a job. By then dreams had changed. Life had turned from a small one room house to a two bedroom flat with almost every conceivable item in place. Then I moved on to my own car, I was flying around and eating out at places which we did not even dare to dream when I was young.

Now I had to take some decisions about life which  will take me to different plane and I had to weigh out my pros and cons. It needed clear headed thinking. Fresh air blowing into my face with nobody on the road what better place to think while driving slowly.My wife running this organization of her which was in helping out geriatric and school going economically backward children. So I had to take up something more meaningful then just earning money to meet my dreams.

Suddenly as if in movies I saw something happening from corner of my eyes. I stopped my car turned around and saw a melee in street side shop. Surprised that a shop was open at this hour that too a street side shop.  I got down from my car walked down to the melee trying to ascertain what was happening. To my surprise I saw two very known faces quarreling with some hoodlum looking men. I had this uneasy feeling that this quarrel could lead to something nasty. These two known faces just did not recognize me but gut feelings told me that they are going to get into trouble.I looked around to see if I could spot a police man but there were none. I was little surprised as I had seen one of those patrol car standing at intersection just a little while ago and now when it was needed the most it was not there. I just wanted to stop the trouble ensuing so I asked what was the problem about. All the men turned around and asked how did it matter to me.

Perplexed in the beginning at the turn of the events with both parties turning on to me I said I was passing by and stopped for a smoke and the whole noise had made me look into what was happening. I just wanted them all to go back and sort the things out in the morning. These words perhaps enraged them no end. They started pushing me around both the groups. I tried to resist and that made them even more aggressive. Now I was exchanging blows with  nearly seven men. Me being no Stallone or Jackie Chan  made the things worst for me.Being out numbered made me think it was best to run away, only  problem was I was surrounded. Then one the guys who looked most menacing started abusing me in the filthiest language. “He tried to hit me with a forklift!” I shouted out at the top of voice “HELP”. ……… Somebody shook me hard I looked up and saw a police man standing. ‘Why are you sleeping with the car parked at the curb.’I looked around and saw that I was parked by side of the road in my car having dozed off God knows when and had a stupid nightmare

Practice Hard

A poet who lived sometime in between 1398 – 1518 known as Kabir Das in India  wrote a couplet in Hindi which is

Karat Karat Abhyas te Jarmati Hot Sujan

Rassi awat jat te sil par parat nishan

In English rough translation would be


Practice, hard practice makes a dumb knowledgeable

Just like the rope moving on the stone year after year lives its mark on the stone.

So true. Look at the great players and athletes who practice hard for years to win those treasured medals and cups in their arena of sports. There are more number of wasted genius in the world then there are those who are successful. Even above average people with just perseverance and hard work achieve which many talented youngsters miss out just because they did not practice hard enough.

It has happened to all of us who have contemplated about finishing our courses when we were in school well before exams but procrastinated. With us there always those who were little dumb on the day when the course was being taught. While they practiced in private we just knew we knew. Come exams they always got better of us or touched us just by their sheer hard work.

The truth about hard practice making one perfect does not limit itself to the human species, look at the animal kingdom and we see that Lion or Tiger cub practices hunting to become one of the fiercest hunter.

We by our greater intelligence can perhaps learn faster but to be perfect there is no other option but to practice and practice hard.


My First Teacher

Thanks to my teachers that I am able to blog. It is because of them that I understand English, which is not my mother tongue. It is due to them that today I have a job, maintain my family and ensure my son’s education. They understood my needs, my interests, my inclination and helped me become what ever I am today.

Who is the best teacher that I had? Well very teacher I had in life was instrumental in making me. They came down to my level to understand my problems and helped me. To quote something from my fellow blogger ‘I was like The Boy who had no Ears’ my teachers have helped me by understanding how I feel ‘And that is how one truly teaches’.

What makes a Teacher great ………….. love to teach, loving his or her student as their own children and bringing out their best.

However in all this I was almost going to miss my first teacher. One who is first teacher of all of us. Our mothers. They taught us our first steps, our first attempt to speak something comprehensible.

All my teachers thereafter have been like my parent so I salute all of them.