*peeks to see if the smileys are having the desired effect* 
no one’s glaring…no one’s tapping their foot…..no one’s frowning…
are you guys grinning?
*hopes those are grins and not ‘evil’ grins* 
Attended two weddings and one engagement
engagement?whose you might ask?
errr well you might not….but I will tell you anyway
*everyone shifts to a safe distance in case Indy intends to drone..err write on…*
so it was my engagement..
*cries of WHAT??go up*
errr actually… no cries go up, just some conspiratorial grins (see?I know you guys that welll)
you all had already guessed hadnt you?
Prince Charming has been found
Wait! Let me correct that and say that he has been around for quite a while and I am only now sharing this here 
For the mushy atma in me this is a heaven sent opportunity for one mushy post(Mushy with a CAPITAL M might I add)
*Vimmuuu scoots off promptly…sensing an avalanche of awwwwwws coming* 
To quote one very corny line from that movie..(ah!all of you will know the one I am talking about)
‘He had me at hello‘
(psst! dont ever tell him okay? )
and though Lisa Simpson says (yeah the Simpsons are the font of ALL wisdom )
Romance is dead – it was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece. ~Lisa Simpson, The Simpsons
Ah!despite that cynicism I say romance is very much alive and kicking!
I have personal proof!
[Shrek rescues Fiona]
Princess Fiona: What are you doing? You know, you should sweep me off my feet out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed.
Shrek: You’ve had a lot of time to plan this, haven’t you?
Princess Fiona: You didn’t slay the dragon?
Shrek: It’s on my “to do” list. Now come on.
Princess Fiona: But this isn’t right. You’re meant to charge in, sword drawn, banner flying-that’s what all the other knights did.
Shrek: Yeah, right before they burst into flame.
Princess Fiona: What kind of a knight are you?
Shrek: One of a kind.
yup! thats my knight to a T too
I think I dreamed you into life sang Savage Garden 
…I think so too….I dreamt of him when I was a little girl reading my first mushy novel….
I dreamt of him when I first thought of Prince Charmings…..
I dreamt of him when I saw a dozen frogs and thought about kissing none of them.. Blech!
I dreamt of him when I heard a melodious soulful song…and when I sat by a window on a rainy afternoon sipping tea and pondering about life…
This gruff knight of mine who is so expressive with me and so quiet with the rest of the world…
TDH was a term we girls had coined when we were young..I and my friends would sigh over lovey dovey tales and happy ever afters….
TDH=Tall, Dark,Handsome…that used to be our criteria…or whatever we could make of it in our teenage minds full of romantic dreams
The jokes said with a straight face, the silences and the concern…its all a part of him:)
He is my blessing.
He calms me down.
He makes me laugh.
There is a feeling of home with him. He is my oasis in so many ways.
It’s a long journey ahead …different cultures, different languages, different states…and we two are the link between these:)
He is a pilot in uniform…and one whose smile is …*sigh* *daydreams*
Oh! and his name here from now onwards will be PM … Pati Material
Since Pati, Boy, the other half and all such are already taken… .this was what I came up with months back while talking to Sols
and Sols came up with something about dozens of lil Indys running around
*blushes*
Plss note:- The term ‘Lil Indys’ copyrighted to Solilo
Here we are
(Thanks for the pics Sols ) muah!
Merry Christmas to all of my cherished friends here…and warm, warm wishes for the year ahead
May you get all that your heart desires and deserves
(((((((hugs))))
PS:- If any of you have shifted homes from blogspot to WP during the past four months, then please drop your link here:)
WHERE IS OG? and why is Crafty MIA? grrr!!! GET BACK DUDE AND DUDETTE!! ASAP! 
An apology is due
That is if you guys dont kill me first
Sorry about that sudden and really long dissappearance
There was a lot to deal with in life all of a sudden. Both professionally and personally. (ofcourse if I mention comps and viruses at this point you guys will simply murder me wont you? )
Now things are back in control:)
All of you have been missed and how! Your mails and messages have made me smile and grin like a lunatic
And in the case of a very special friend who is now part of my life since what seems like forever, her calls pepped me up when I needed it the most.
My Gmail inbox is chockfull.I would like to apologize in advance if I am a little late in replying to your mails
Thank you also …infact a BIG thank you for all the awards bestowed on yours truly
Grinned on seeing all of em and am grinning still
Thank you Kanagu, DI, Amrit (Please do remind this amnesiac if she has missed anyone’s name here) Will pick up the tags too:)
And a question.
…err ummm how many posts have been written in the past 25 something days?
*sigh* I shouldnt even ask? 
a LOT?
*Indy faints at the thought of wading through all the posts*
Fear not ! Indy will still manage to achieve this seemingly impossible feat !
A lot has been happening in the blogworld I can see
Dhiren has been interviewed! Yippiee!:) WAY TO GO DHIREN!
(for more, head over to Blogadda to read the interview and the comments )
CONGRATULATIONS!!
Better keep the treat ready Dhiren
And just the fact that you mentioned me there and more precisely the way you shared made me feel humbled. Thank you so much Dhiren!:)
(no I WONT kill you for the last bit )
And here is the venture of a dear ,dear friend Chirag. The reason I am sharing it here is because this is something I believe will become big and this has class and quality written all over it. After all Chirag is the brains behind it.Need I say more?
So do subscribe to Indiameme.
Indiameme requires a separate post . A post on my blog dedicated ONLY to Indiameme. Which will be coming up shortly But till then could not resist sharing a little info here:)
There is also another equally interesting venture of a friend whom I respect . Vinod Sir.
It is called india tweets
If you would like to contribute to this blog feel free to write in . This is what the ‘india tweets’ page says
here you will find interesting “tweets” of 140 words, not characters, or less that relate to india. got one to share? submit it. it will be published in your name only!
Vinod Sir has made it a group blog now and so you will find anything and everything related to India here. From different perspectives. What could be better?
But meanwhile DO subscribe to the blog. Trust me you wont be dissappointed.
————————————————————————————————————————————————-
What should I share here?:) Because I really want to. Share something. Anything. If only to mark my attendance back in this blogworld
A few songs that are running through my mind………….
Do pardon me if the post seems to be a slow starter as compared to what I usually write. It seems ages since I have written on these pages
These are songs in keeping with the mellow(?) (I think ) mood I am in these days:)
Even if you dont listen to any other song in this list, PLEASE do listen to this one above PURE UNADULTERATED BLISS!
Rahat Fateh Ali Khan doesn’t simply sing. He transports you to a different world altogether.
PS:- Will be replying to all the comments on the previous posts soon.
भारत ……
कभी कहता सा लगता है …कि बस अब और नहीं!
अब एक जीवन जी लिया…अब तो मुझे जाने दो…
बहुत से कर्ज उतार लिए , कुछ वायदे भी पूरे किए…
युगों से मूक साक्षी ही तो हूँ…
अब और क्या -क्या दिखाओगे?
तो कभी इठलाता सा ,एक अल्हड़ बच्चे सा कहता है
कि चलो अभी तो बहुत दूर जाना है ..
बस ? अभी थक गए ?
अभी तो कितनें सपनें बाकी हैं ,कितनें ख्वाब संजोनें हैं
कुछ आशाएँ जगानीं हैं ,कुछ बीज नए भी बोने हैं…
कभी पलटकर कहता है
यशस्वी होने का वरदान देकर स्वयं ही अयशस्वी बनाते हो?
यह कैसा वरदान? यह कैसी कामना?
भारतीय जन्में हो तो कुछ कर भी दिखाओगे?
या बस यूँ ही ॐघते ॐघते जीवन बिताओगे?
कहतें तो बहुत हैं ,कहने में क्या जाता है ?
शब्दों का मोल रद्दी के भाव बिक जाता है..
यदि सच में ज्वाला जागी है और कुछ करने की ठानी है
तो व्यर्थ शब्दों के बाण न छोड़ो ,यह तो बहता पानी हैं…
यूँ स्तंभित सा खड़ा भारत ,अपनी किस्मत को कोसता है
उस दिन जन्म क्यों दिया ?बस यही मन मे सोचता है
कहता है मुझसे पूछ कर तो देखो ,मैं सत्य ही बताॐगा
कभी किसी से भेद किया हो, तो अभी प्राण त्याग चला जाॐगा
मेरी बाँहें तो सदियों से खुलीं हैं ,
फिर तुम्हारी आँखें क्यों शक में धुलीं हैं..?
शत्रु ,बागी ,मित्र सभी को दामन में सँभाला है ,
तुमको भी तो ,यहीं ,इसी आँचल में पाला है…
मुझे माता ,पिता ,संत की व्यर्थ उपाधि न दो
मैं जो भी हूँ ,परन्तु तुम्हें जरा सी ग्लानि तो हो..
जिनके साथ कभी खाया था ,उन्हीं के घर जलाते हो ?
अब यूँ घूम घूम किस मानवता पर इठलाते हो ?
कर सको तो बस इतना करो कि मुझे चैन से जीने दो ..
जो घाव तुमने दिए ,उन्हें भी तो सीने दो …
नहीं चाहिए धन ,न चाहिए ‘शक्तिशाली’ की उपाधि
ऐसा करते करते ही तो न बना दोगे मेरी समाधि?
मुसलमान ,हिंदु ,सिख ,ईसाई तो मुझ से क्या काम?
जो बेनाम हो ,वही अधिकारी कि ले मेरा नाम….
भविष्य के सपने देखते ,अतीत की बातें करते हो
इतनी शर्म क्यों ? क्या सच्चाई से डरते हो?
भ्रष्टाचार,हिंसा,गरीबी क्या ये तुम्हारा हिस्सा नहीं ?
या घर से निकलते हुए सोचते हो ,”चलो कोई और सही”?
गरीबी मिटानी है तो पहले दलदल में उतरना सीखो…
परंपरा की चादर ओढ़े कभी चल न पाओगे
सब पीछे छोड़ जाएँगे और देखते रह जाओगे…
पर परंपरा को ऐसे मत फेकना कि कभी मिल न पाए
तुम जैसे कितने परंपरावादी आए और चले गये…
न बनो परंपरा के आलोचक ,न बनो परंपरा के पेहरेदार,
जी सकते हो तो जीओ ,जीवन और सदाचार…
देवियों की उपासना ..और बेटियों को तुच्छ समझते हो
इस बेटा बेटी की उहापोह में व्यर्थ क्यों उलझते हो?
बेटे तो बहुत देखे ‘किरन’ सा दिखाओ तो जानूँ ,
कोई बेटा हो उससे साहसी ,तो मै भी मानूँ…
बेटा बेटी दोनों ही है प्रकृति का वर्दान्
मारनेवाले तुम कौन ? क्या हो भगवान्?
बेटी को तुच्छ न समझो ,न समझो बेटे को राजकुमार…
दोनो के है समान हक दोनो पर न करो अत्याचार….
लूट ,खसोट ,तोड़ फोड़ ,हत्या ..क्या यही है स्वतन्त्रता की परिभाषा?
मै भारत हूँ ,क्या न होगी मुझे ज़ऱा भी हताशा?
गान्धी , नेहरु ,पटेल ने क्या यही सपने सन्जोए थे?
और इसीलिए सैंकड़ों ने प्राण दे, आज़ादी के बीज् बोए थे?
————————————————————————
62 years back, a man stood in the central hall of the Indian Parliament (the same parliament that has been made a mockery of ) and gave us words . Not just any words . But words that were to become immortal. Words that still have the power to move more than any other.
But only if you understand the significance of THAT day and THIS one .
Today.
One where you and I are able to ……. FREE to celebrate this day. Independence Day.
Have you seen animals in zoos? In captivity?
We were like that .And I can only say this based on the same accounts that all of us have read.
We didnt know what freedom was like.
What did it taste like? We must have surely wondered. Or rather our ancestors must have.
Many say that it is ironic that a nation’s leader spoke that independent nation’s first address in English . A language that was not even understood by her countrymen.
I beg to differ today . I say look at this nation’s state today! Just look at it! Look at the pathetic chauvinism running rampant in the veins of her children and then tell me if it was right or wrong.
No better decision could have been made by Jawaharlal Nehru I now think in hindsight.
At least no claims of superiority can be made by any of this nation’s chauvinistic language groups.
All the cribbing that we do today? All the criticism that comes from all sides? The very breath of a democracy? That was NOT possible THEN.
It is NOW.
We were a country where GENERATIONS had been born into the same mind-numbing slavery. Gulami they called it in Hindi.
THEY celebrated it for the first time 62 years back.
Can you even begin to imagine their joy? The sheer exhilaration they must have felt?
I know I cannot. Try as I might I fail. I can only wonder. In awe of all that they were. In awe of all that they have given us.
Thank you says this Indian standing 62 years in the future to her countrymen 62 years in the past. Thank you. And that’s a small word that doesn’t even begin to describe our gratitude.
Watch. Just watch the expressions on the faces of India’s LEADERS in this video.(men and women who could be called one in EVERY sense of the word)
Listen. Listen to the pin drop silence that exists as a new born nation takes a step into history.
EXCERPTS FROM THE SPEECH
”Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity.
The future beckons to us. Whither do we go and what shall be our endeavour? To bring freedom and opportunity to the common man, to the peasants and workers of India; to fight and end poverty and ignorance and disease; to build up a prosperous, democratic and progressive nation, and to create social, economic and political institutions which will ensure justice and fullness of life to every man and woman.
We have hard work ahead. There is no resting for any one of us till we redeem our pledge in full, till we make all the people of India what destiny intended them to be. We are citizens of a great country on the verge of bold advance, and we have to live up to that high standard.
All of us, to whatever religion we may belong, are equally the children of India with equal rights, privileges and obligations. We cannot encourage communalism or narrow-mindedness, for no nation can be great whose people are narrow in thought or in action.
To the nations and peoples of the world we send greetings and pledge ourselves to cooperate with them in furthering peace, freedom and democracy.
And to India, our much-loved motherland, the ancient, the eternal and the ever-new, we pay our reverent homage and we bind ourselves afresh to her service.
LINK
And here.in the video below, this is the new India. Not always shining. Certainly not. Not even the India yet of Nehru’s dreams. But we are getting there. Step by step. We have a long way to go yet.
The chants of ‘कर्मण्ये वाधिकारस्ते म फलेषु कदाचना
कर्मफलेह्तुर भुरमा ते संगोस्त्वकर्मानी॥’ play in the background reminding us perhaps of the meaning. And the wheel of life featured in almost each frame? That says enough by itself.
मेरा भारत क्या है ?
एक खूबसूरत ख्वाब..
बोलने की आजादी..
भाषाऒ का मेल…
परंपराऒ का मिलन…
संघर्ष करने की प्रेरणा….
आजादी का बिगुल….
अनेकता में एकता….
मनुष्य की कल्पना..
बहुत से उसूल ….
ढेर सारे सिद्दांत….
अन्याय से मुक्ति…
धर्मो का संगम..
कई वतनों की खुशबू…
एक गीत सुरीला…
एक मनमोहक धुन…
युगों का मेल ….
अपनेआप में कई संसार समेटे हुए….
अनूठा भारत ,अलबेला भारत….
इठलाता भारत….
तिरंगा भारत….
भारत ,हिन्दुस्तान् ,India ……….
आजादी की शुभकामनाएँ….
Here’s to a never ending string of such beautiful days for this country of ours. Amen.
—————————————————————————-
The lines in Hindi are a re-post from my old blog. A post that had been written for the same occasion earlier.
Edited to add:- Regarding some confusion earlier… ALL the lines in Hindi are very much my own.
Wanted to write about one poet here. But I have ended up sharing the words of quite a few. But most of all..above any other..the words of Amrita Pritam. That most celebrated of souls.
A friend shared this video and these lines on a forum and after listening to it, I had to share it here too. This poem is such. The words are such. The rendition? By Gulzar. Mesmerising to say the least.
Take a deep breath and savour the rich baritone of Gulzar as he gives voice to her words. And then read the translation.
Mein tainu pher milan gi (I will meet you yet again)
I will meet you yet again
How and where? I know not.
Perhaps I will become a
figment of your imagination
and maybe, spreading myself
in a mysterious line
on your canvas,
I will keep gazing at you.
Perhaps I will become a ray
of sunshine, to be
embraced by your colours.
I will paint myself on your canvas
I know not how and where –
but I will meet you for sure.
Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning chest.
I know nothing else
but that this life
will walk along with me.
When the body perishes,
all perishes;
but the threads of memory
are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles,
weave the threads,
and I will meet you yet again.
—-Amrita Pritam.
This poem was written in her sickbed for her partner, the painter Imroz
Translated by Nirupama Dutt and published in The Little Magazine
Give yourself a moment or two to take in this experience. Listen to the words again. This time with the translation and you will be blown away.
————————————————————————————————–
And now if you have been able to recover from that experience. One that moves you.Wrenches your heart with feelings that are beyond comprehension ……now , here’s the other poet whose words I originally wanted to share.
The Tree (Rukh)
Some trees look like sons to me.
Some like mothers.
Some are daughters, brides,
A few like brothers.
Some are like my grandfather,
Sparsely leafed.
Some like my grandmother
Who used to throw choori to the crows.
Some trees are like the friends
I used to kiss and embrace.
One is my beloved
Sweet. Painful.
There are trees I would like
To throw on my shoulder playfully,
There are trees I would like
To kiss and then die.
The trees sway together
When strong winds blow.
I wish I could render
Their verdant, leafy language.
I wish that I could
Return as a tree.
And if you wanted to listen to my song
I would sing it in the trees.
These trees are like my mother,
May their shade stay intact.
Rukh : Translated by Suman Kashyap
”Eh mera geet
Kise na gaana.
Eh mera geet
MaeN aape ga ke
Bhalke hi mar jaana!
Eh mera geet dharat toN maela,
Sooraj jeD puraana.
KoT janm toN piya asaahnu
Is da bol haNDHaana.
Hor kise di jaah na koi
Is nu hoTHeeN laana,
Eh taaN mere naal janmeya
Naal bahishteeN jaana.
Eh mera geet
MaeN aape ga ke
Bhalke hi mar jaana!
Es geet da ajab jiha sur,
DaaDHa darad raNjhaanaaN.
Katak maah vich door pahaaReeN
KooNjaaN da kurlaana.
Noor-paak de vele rakh vich,
ChiReeyaaN da chichalaana
Kaali raate sarkaRiyaaN toN
PaunaaN da laNgh jaana!
Eh mera geet
MaeN aape ga ke
Bhalke hi mar jaana!
MaeN te mere geet ne dohaaN,
Jad bhalke mar jaana,
BirhoN de ghar jaaeeyaaN saahnu
KabareeN labhan auna.
Sabhna saaeeyaaN ik avaaze
MukhoN bol alaana:
Kise kise de lekheeN huNda
EDa darad kamaana.
Eh mera geet
Kise na gaana.
Eh mera geet
MaeN aape ga ke
Bhalke hi mar jaana!
——————————————-
Eh Mera Geet – My Song
Do not sing
My song.
I must sing this song
Myself,
And then die.
This song is more soiled than the earth,
As old as the sun,
For many births I have had to live
The weight of its words.
No one else has the ability
To bring voice to it.
This song was born with me,
And will die with me.
I must sing this song
Myself,
And then die.
This song has a rare melody,
It is filled with pain.
It is like the shriek of cranes
Heard from distant mountains in autumn.
Or the clamor of birds in a forest,
Heard in a chaste dawn.
Or the sound of the wind flowing through high grasses
Heard on a black night.
I must sing this song
Myself,
And then die.
When I and my songs
Both die,
They who inhabit separation-houses
Will seek out my grave.
With one voice,
They will declare,
“Only a very few are fated
To shoulder such pain.”
Do not sing
This song of mine.
I must sing this song
Myself,
And then die.
I may end with a warning to anyone envisaging an overdose of Shiv: he can be terribly Wagnerian- effusively dark and deeply sombre.Says another blogger and I would have to agree. So dont go overboard with his poetry.Let the words sink in. Savour them. But draw a line. And I especially say this for young impressionable minds.
Stammer is no handicap.
It is a mode of speech.
Stammer is the silence that falls
between the word and its meaning,
just as lameness is the
silence that falls between
the word and the deed.
Did stammer precede language
or succeed it ?
Is it only a dialect or a
language itself ? These questions
make linguists stammer.
Each time we stammer
we are offering a sacrifice
to the God of Meanings.
When a whole people stammer
stammer becomes their mother tongue:
as it is with us now.
God too must have stammered
when He created Man.
That is why all the words of man
carry different meanings.
That is why everything he utters
from his prayers to his commands
stammers,
like poetry.
Translated from Malayalam by the poet himself.
(This has to be my fav out of all the ones)
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Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh (Hindi)
A single shooting star
A distant star
shoots through the blue of space
But nothingness of space,
assumed to blue, must spell
an answer inaccessible.
To stretching scope
eye muscle’s strain.
Astronomers describe
its pace and spatial shift;
account for its time concealed
in tunnels of shade.
Yet it tracks only itself,
oblivious to sketch
and sketcher, eye and scope.
With equal speed
another lone star seems
to move across the space
So in moving out of shades
of evil , reining self,
riding the void,
each star
becomes the image
seeing
its own fearless offspring—
because of this
I shall put faith in every man,
in every man’s son.
Translated from Hindi by James Mauch
Vichu this reminded me of you:)
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I Want To Be Killed By An Indian Bullet
Thangjam Ibopishak Singh (Manipuri)
I heard the news long ago that they were looking for me; in the morning in the afternoon
at night. My children told me; my wife told me.
One morning they entered my drawing room, the five of them. Fire, water, air,
earth, sky – are the names of these five. They can create men; also destroy men at whim.
They do whatever they fancy. The very avatar of might.
I ask them: “When will you kill me ?”
The leader replied: “Now. We’ll kill you right now. Today is very auspicious. Say
your prayers. Have you bathed ? Have you had your meal ?”
“Why will you kill me ? What is my crime ? What evil deed have I done ?” I asked
them again.
“Are you a poet who pens gobbledygook and drivel ? Or do you consider yourself
a seer with oracular powers? Or are you a madman ?” asked the leader.
“I know that I’m neither of the first two beings. I cannot tell you about the last
one. How can I myself tell whether I’m unhinged or not ?”
The leader said: “You can be whatever you would like to be. We are not
concerned about this or that. We will kill you now. Our mission is to kill men.”
I ask: “In what manner will you kill me? Will you cut me with a knife? Will you
shoot me? Will you club me to death?”
“We will shoot you.”
“With which gun will you shoot me then? Made in India, or made in another
country?”
“Foreign made. All of them made in Germany, made in Russia, or made in China.
We don’t use guns made in India. Let alone good guns, India cannot even make plastic
flowers. When asked to make plastic flowers India can only produce toothbrushes.”
I said: “That’s a good thing. Of what use are plastic flowers without any
fragrance?”
The leader said: “No one keeps toothbrushes in vases to do up a room. In life a
little embellishment has its part.”
“Whatever it may be, if you must shoot me please shoot me with a gun made in
India. I don’t want to die from a foreign bullet. You see, I love India very much.”
“That can never be. Your wish cannot be granted. Don’t ever mention Bharat to
us.”
Saying this, they left without killing me; as if they didn’t do anything at all. Being
fastidious about death I escaped with my life.
Translated by Robin S Ngangom
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Edited to add:I was able to find a Hindi translation of the poem ‘I want to be killed by an Indian bullet’ Here it is
449 brave soldiers killed…..Five pages of just names…..The horror of it!
And India doesn’t even remember!
Martyrs who might just be names to some of us, but a lifetime of grief and heartache for those they have left behind…
Why is it that retired generals have to protest on the streets to get whats their due?
Did you ever think you would see such a sight?
I didnt.
Do you have any idea…………can you even begin to realize what the word honour….the word Izzat means to a man in uniform?
Of how utterly bereft of hope the ones who should have been ‘ happily’ retired must have felt before they sat down to protest on the streets demanding that which this nation should have given to them without their having to ask?
And have we even now given it? Given whats their due?
Did the sixth Pay Commission do justice to all that they did and even now do???
Why is is it that as a nation we can shed tears at a particular moment and yet be as cruel and as apathetic as human beings can possibly be.
Why is it that we still don’t have a memorial for our soldiers?
NOTHING.
Oh! but wait! We DO have a sea link named after a former PM!
Yes, that’s enough I think. Really! Its all that matters.
We could have named it after a martyr of 26/11 of course but we chose not to.
You see we are quite screwed up that way.
Our priorities define who we are.
And what we are isn’t the most pretty sight.
Read the letter below and tell me if this is the act of a normal human being.
Does it take rare courage to write such a letter I wonder. Does God make some people more special than others?
A letter written by Captain Vijayant Thapar to his parents before he went into battle. (his nickname was Robin)
There was another letter this one by a mother addressed to Musharraf demanding that he apologise to her grand daughter after her son, whom she still refers to as 2 RR (Rajputana Rifles), had sacrificed his life for the country. Also a little girl who has never seen her father. She was born after her father died fighting a war that this nation doesn’t even remember.
There are many stories …..some poignant , some that make you smile…
Did you know about little Ruksana and her connection with Vijayant Thapar?
Did you know that these were not men but young boys ? On the cusp of discovering all that this world had to offer them?
The jawans , the officers…bound together by a camaraderie that is beyond our wildest imagination…
These men could lay down their lives for a friend. And they did.
Yeh dil maange more .. words made immortal by a young boy of 24.
A nation watched….enchanted by the sight of this grinning I-dont-give-a-damn soldier who seemed to challenge death itself.
One could feel his euphoria. He looked invincible and we felt invincible too when we heard those words in the comfort of our homes.
I remember I was preparing hard for my unit tests when we heard the news. That man, that soldier, that Indian who had sat there in a bunker smiling and saying words which were to become a slogan for generations to come was no more.
One felt hard pressed to believe it.
We all seemed to know him.
India watched in disbelief. Had we not seen him on TV just a few days earlier?
Then how was it possible ?
But a nation was to realize that these brave hearts for all their courage were mortals.
Mortals who could put many to shame. Men of steel but men nevertheless.
Of how with a horrified look one stares at the TV screen even now when his face is flashed on it saying those words over and over again until they are seared into your brain.
Would he have said it any differently had he known?
I dont think so.
He would have said the very same words with even more josh if it was possible.
Sher Shah even ‘they’ were forced to call him. And Sher Shah he was.
Then there were those bravehearts who even in death, united a nation like never before.
No homage to the heroes of Kargil can be complete without the examples of two martyrs from the northeast – Captain Keishing Clifford Nongrum of the 12 J&K Light Infantry and Captain Neikezhakuo Kenguruse of the 2 Rajputana Rifles.
Nongrum died on on July 1, 1999, while leading the charge on Point 4812.
Tales of his valour are now the stuff of legend in his native Meghalaya; Point 4812 has become a pilgrimage spot for many Khasis.
“And many more of his tribesmen are now signing up to wear stars and service stripes (local lingo for military service), as he used to exhort the youth in his native state to do when on leave,” said Peter Keishing, 62, his father.
Kenguruse’s story was even more inspiring. Belonging to a generation of Nagas that grew up hating or fighting the Indian army, few expected the wiry Neibu (his nickname) to don military colours.
“Neibu was aware of the churning back home when he was training hard to earn his stripes,” said Neiselie, 64, his father in Nagamese, a Hindi-Assamese hybrid that is very popular in Nagaland.
His native village Nerhema, 22 km north of Kohima, was burnt down twice during five decades of counter-insurgency operations.
But when he returned – in a coffin – a very different Nagaland welcomed him. The day his body arrived at Dimapur, thousands lined the road to Nerhema.
“Neibu did more than make us proud; he changed our perception of the Indian army,” said his father. And, arguably, triggered the mainstreaming – of sorts – of Naga society, inspiring, like Nongrum, an assembly line of youths to enlist for the army. [LINK]
Captain (Dr) Rajshree Gupta, Army Medical Corps (AMC), salutes the tricolour-draped coffin of her husband, Major Vivek Gupta of the 2nd Rajputana Rifles, who died fighting the enemies.
Tell me how to control my anguish and not feel murderous when I see, read and hear this below.
After listening to a third-rate political spat between Jayanthi Natarajan of the Congress and Rajiv Pratap Rudy of the BJP in which both tried to score cheap political points on Kargil, the General was compelled to say what the whole nation feels: ” It is a political debate which must be buried along with political parties…These nauseating, disgusting, shrill, vituperative debates have no meaning for the Indian Defence Services.“[LINK-India Retold]
One political party wants to celebrate the Kargil victory and ‘remember’ martyrs but ONLY to score a political point over its opponent.
The other asks…. Kargil? ? Which Kargil?
We fought a war?
This party prefers to celebrate ONLY the 1971 victory.
Tell me how to give up my murderous fantasy of killing each slimy politician of this country.
Do you think the slime that are India’s politicians would have felt the least bit ashamed of themselves when they read this below?
Read this article. (lines from which have been given below)
A country that refuses to respect its armed forces will eventually end up getting forces that will not respect the nations’ aspirations. A country makes a sacred contract with its soldiers that while he/she will lay down his/her life when called upon to do so, the nation will take good care of his/her and his/her family’s needs to the extent its resources would permit.
This contract underpins the very survival of a nation as when its territorial integrity and political independence are under threat, the nation looks upon the only instrument that can protect it — its armed forces.
This is a nation that will cry with Lata Mangeshkar when she sings Aye Mere Watan Ke Logon but will not make any effort to understand the real problems and concerns of its soldiers. It is a sign of the highly skewed priorities of the Indian media that the rising turmoil and dissatisfaction within the ranks of nations’ armed forces is being given only perfunctory coverage.
It is an issue of nation’s very survival yet the media seems busy with its devotion of superficialities. Every rave and rant of Bollywood actors is religiously covered, detailed dissection of seemingly never-ending cricket matches are conducted, exorbitant pay rises in the corporate sector make it to the headlines but the one issue that can make or break the future of this country is consigned to the margins.
We continue to pray at the altar of our false heroes while our real heroes continue to face neglect and scorn.
A few questions for all of you . Actually anyone who is reading this…will be reading this.
Are you a parent?
If so, have you told your children about the wars that your nation fought?
That its bravehearts fought?
No, it doesn’t have to be a dining table formal conversation. It didnt for us. But we knew.
Our parents made sure we knew. We did not see or read about the 71 war but our parents made sure we knew.
They didn’t live through the 47 war and they cant remember the 71 one. But THEIR parents made sure they knew.
So have you made sure your children know?
Are you a teacher?
Are your students aware of all that India has been through?
No, it doesn’t have to be a part of the syllabus for you to tell them. It should be but it isn’t. So have you told them?
Are you willing to support your child if he/she decides to be part of the defence forces?
One last question.
Answer it honestly but I don’t think you will.
Yes, the cynic in me rears its ugly head.
Are you in favour of conscription?
No, not to combat the shortage of officers in the defence forces.
But to see if YOU are willing to walk the talk.
Your eyes are moist ..were moist then too when you saw the bodies of the martyrs being carried home.
Would you be willing to send your son/daughter to enlist knowing fully well that exactly such a homecoming could take place? One where a loved one comes home draped in a tricolour sleeping the sleep of the innocent?
No is the primary sentiment is it? After all who gives a damn about this profession. Can it be even called a profession?
They are paid peanuts. Dismal living standards. The dangers to one’s life.
Nah! not worth it you say.
And if indeed this is so, then please don’t ask any more questions as to why our politicians..our decision makers don’t listen to the demands of a soldier..demands that he has been forced to make after a long graceful silence because he has realised that YOU WONT fight the battle for him .
That YOU are NOT WILLING to.
Because there is nothing in it for you eh?
We all love martyrs. We put them on pedestals and want to worship them forever(though in this nation not even that)
But we all want the martys to be from a neighbour’s home. Not ours.
And that is what this nation’s problem is. This is what defines us.
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Were your eyes moist when you read all the words here?
I bet you even shed a few tears when the war was happening.
And what did you do since then? In the last ten years? Did you talk about it with a few friends? Tut tutted about how pathetic the condition of the soldiers is?
If you did, I am extremely grateful.
You see….at least you talked about them. You remembered them…oh!not all of them! Come one!how can you remember so many names.Poor you!
But I am grateful for whatever crumbs I get.
Did you read all the names of the martyrs given in the first link and in the last video?
Or did you get tired? Or did you gasp in horror?
Which reaction was it?
Tell me too so I can take a sliver of hope that this nation does care for its soldiers. If only in name.
Tears are cheap aren’t they?
Shed a few at the appropriate time and be done with it.
You all had questions during and after 26/11 didn’t you?
How was this possible? You shouted!
You gasped in horror at the tragedy of it all.You wondered how the enemy could strike right at the heart of our nation. You wanted nothing more than to murder a terrorist or two. You wanted to know why India was bleeding.
THIS was why it was possible.
What lessons will a nation take from history when it prefers to forget it?
Sandeep Unnikrishnan is now only a name among many others in the collective memory of this nation.Nothing more.
We will forget him a few months down the line.
10 years later?
Are you kidding me?
Sandeep who?… will be the question.
Go India. Prosper like never before. Celebrate life each day. Sleep comfortably in yur homes.
But know this.
One day all of this will be taken away in a flash.
And that will be the day you will regret so much.
What is it they say?
About words left unsaid and deeds left undone?…..
Words are cheap in this country of ours. Promises are even cheaper. But the cheapest of all is the life of a soldier.
Oh! and yes! I too have fulfilled my duty as an Indian citizen. The words of tokenism have been written. Lets all go and sleep today and every day with the thought that we really and truly are Indians.
”Our God and soldiers we alike adore ev’n at the brink of danger; not before: After deliverance, both alike requited, our Gods forgotten and our soldiers slighted”- Francis Quarles
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You read many books do you?
Fiction..non-fiction and what have you..
Then read this one too. (excerpts given in the link)
A Soldier’s Diary by Harinder Baweja
Add this as one among many that you have. It is not dramatic. It certainly is not a romanticized version of the war. It just tells it as it was.
want to write something witty,something so funny it cracks you up and describes me in the same breath...:)not possible is it?so I'll just let it be and let the words paint a picture....whether its a childish painting of a kindergarten kid or simply an earnest attempt at painting my own gauche little painting..:)...................... I have left the girl I was supposed to be and someday I'll be born........
