Thank you, God!

Hello God,

If you happen to stumble upon this post, an event for which I believe the probability is 0.00000000009999 since its titled and labelled with you, so that means you ‘will stumble upon’ my post, I want to let you know quite a few things. Not that I fear you or expect any favors for entry to heaven, but nevertheless, you need to know what Vin really thought about you and thinks about you, albeit you seldom do much in keeping with her wishes. Still…

Let me refresh your memory, in case you rely on such human tools. I belong to a wonderful set of ‘family’, for starters we are a group of ‘self-styled combat warriors’, the only pinch is of the uniquely distinct styles each one of us possess. So, lets not talk about how the family chariot moves on with all the wheels pointing in the ten directions, so anchored as a rock, just as you! So, now you know who I am. Lets proceed further..


When I was little, my mom said ‘God is watching all our actions and will punish us for our lies’. I thought ‘Let me not take a chance… I never lied’. Meantime, all my elder siblings lied and went scott-free from mom’s cane, whereas me would be decorated with long red bumps. I wondered then, ‘Why is God not punishing them?’. Gradually, the questions increased, every time i joined my hands in prayer at the small temple at home, I saw an image of you smiling away to glory. I didnt know it then, the reason for your smile, but maybe now I do! Nevertheless, I trusted you and prayed to you and begged you for a new set of crayons, a new drawing book, a new story book, a new dress, a new shoe… more quality time with my ‘ever so busy’ dad! But, you only smiled! Some answer to a little toddler’s prayer!

The toddler grew up, the prayers continued but you only smiled! I prayed, i stuggled, i worked hard to make both ends meet, while you were smiling your glorious smile! They say ‘God alone knows’, so maybe you do know, when exactly i stopped praying or rather my style of praying. Maybe, you felt bad, because you stopped smiling at the temple. But, you know what, I had begun to worship people. They were the ones running this ‘loka’, they were the real heroes, each one of them striving towards achieving their desires, while joining forces to achieve collective desires. We, the people were running the show!

But with two elder brothers living the spiritual life and me living the ‘doubtful’ life, a debate was inevitable. I was lectured about your cosmic laws and stuff. I failed miserably in the debate followed with the toughest questions, ‘Why are the successful people, always the ones who believe in themselves, believe in the power within?’, ‘Why some things never shape the way you want?’, ‘Why some street urchins go on to become major contributors to society?, etc, etc. You must have heard it in my home, if you had happened to tune in, what with my entire neighbourhood tuned in! Then, I realised who is the real hero..who is the script writer… who is the pupeteer..who is calling all the shots ??? Then I realised why you only smiled your glorious smile.

So, here I am at your doorstep, with hands joined humbly, Please forgive me, God. I will never stop praying again. I have a lot to thank for, yes, i really do. You saved me from evil, you carried me through my disbelief, you tolerated my anger, you even sent me friends who did the same! You opened a door when all others were shut on me. You are a tough coach but now i know why! So, Thank you, God and trust me there’s no sarcasm here!

Yours Gratefully,

Vin

Who me ?

……….You are a thinker, philosopher and an idealist. You have an even nature with a clear and sound mind. You are jolly and charming. You may not be very forthcoming with your feelings towards other people. Friendship means the world to you. You work well in groups. You have a deep interest in the psychic and occult sciences. You strive to do a lot for the mankind, given your planets favor you. You are artistic. You are diplomatic and can get your views across without hurting anyone. You are sociable and talkative and good company. You are quick witted with a very good sense of humor. You make friends easily and have no trouble keeping them.

Holy Christ! What a pack of bloody lies! And one would wonder who actually ‘buys’ all this stuff? I was tempted enough to buy the software; see, it said such good things about me. Naah..an ego booster this, just a trick as old as the hills – said, my inner voice. Or wait a minute, the machine can’t go wrong, its only ‘computing’ what its been fed! So, I checked and re-checked all the stuff that needed to be fed: my date of birth, place of birth and the time of birth. The place of birth also needed the exact longitude and latitude mentioned in degrees. Oh no! everything was right… Indeed, the output had to be an accurate one!


My dear friends, philosophers, guides and the permutations/combinations thereby possible with these three roles, as you all know by now, I am not blessed with most of the aforementioned qualities…well, almost!


Does the software have a bug then? Or is it coded with only positive vibrations? Or better still, is it scripted to ‘build the right self-image’ , to see themselves in a new light and not their own perceptions? Or come on, am i that good? BS, i say!


Mathematics can never deviate. Coded with only positive vibrations – almost next to impossible. Built to boost self-image — why on earth would an astrology software do that! So, by the method of deductive reasoning, one may deduce that the only reason remaining would be this…The output is accurate and in keeping with the qualities of Vin2. And did i say Vin2? One may ask, “Vin2.. who?” Well, Vin2 is the alter ego of Vin, thats me, the one who is typing now. Is there a need for a formal introduction? Naaah..We all have read the qualities she’s endowed with. Soon, she will have her own space…her own blog. Entry is free but restricted. Watch out, folks!

Nameless..Faceless..

upon the grass i tread, as alone as the sun
fresh hues of green paint the countryside
and little drops of glittering wet diamonds
tease my naked feet, chill the fire within

specks of dust shining through the rays,
as guards protecting the celestial gates
the horror, the hurt, the throbbing pain
how do i beg thee for a wee bit of grace!

deep within were enflamed buried desires,
long lost and forgotten in mindless pursuit
i look more closely for signs of content,
but the carcasses lay, scattered eerily all over!

envious no more of the calm without
nameless, faceless pangs of guilt and doubt
i watch in silence, fearing to intrude
my conscience is eroded, self misconstrued!

My Dear Mumbai

She welcomes all
A warm embrace!
‘Gateway of India’
Her beauty ‘n grace!


Trusts her children
No matter the race
Balances unceasing greed
Never once doubts a deed!


Her heritage they destroy
Merciful heart is burnt
Their veil conceals, terror dictates
Sadly, no guts for a mutiny!


Wanders around her lone self;
Is love a contract or a bond?
If this be indeed gratitude,
Need it be paid thus?

This is my contribution to this week’s 3WW (Three Word Wednesday). Help spread the fight against terror.

A sincere appeal

Dear Editor,

Sir, I wish to introduce myself as a ‘Common Mumbaikar’, who after years of indifference has become numb to the vagaries of a Mumbai Life! The recent massacre has led me to believe that I am indeed ‘Impotent’. I wonder whether I have a right to celebrate on Jan 26! This letter to you is a desperate appeal to help me and the one billion Indians that are feeling equally miserable.


Where was I when some people, we label as ‘terrorists’, killed my brothers and raped my sisters? Why couldn’t I hear the horrified screams of their orphaned children? Well, Sir, as I’ve already mentioned that I stay in Mumbai, which is so ‘very far’ from these rotten things, you know the places where these rotten things are a norm- Kashmir, Assam, Orissa..and sometimes Delhi, Bengalooru, Hyderabad…So I thought ‘What have I got to do?’, I have enough screams to hear and enough orphans to deal with here in Mumbai itself! Every now and then, there is a bomb blast and the system breaks down; the authorities go into hiding and inevitably the courageous Hero would be the ‘Common Man’.



Well, Sir, I have brought the ‘Common Man’ intentionally here. As a reader of your esteemed newspaper ‘The Times of India’, I am a die-hard fan of your daily strip ‘You said it’ by the greatest ever cartoon illustrator: ‘R K Laxman’. It so correctly depicts the Common Man as a silent spectator of the system. In the cartoonist’s own words, the Common Man symbolises the mute millions of India, or perhaps the whole world, a silent spectator of marching time! He represents the hopes, aspirations, troubles and perhaps even foibles of the average Indian. I gather you know what I’m coming to.


My problem with you is this: Just as the Common Man, Sir, your newspaper too stands as a mute spectator all these years! Whenever a system crashes down, your esteemed newspaper would be the ‘first’ to bring us the ‘esteemed news’. And then in the race to be the ‘first’ to bring the next big news, Sir, you forget the burning past. I agree, Sir that you are the highest English language newspaper and in your own words, ‘very liberal’. But, it has occurred to me lately that you represent the masses. You are considered as the ‘Fourth Estate’ not for a rhyme, but for a reason. You, Sir should be publishing the ‘voices of us, commoners’. You should personify the woes of every Indian not just in a cartoon. You should take the lead in asking the ‘Why’s?’ from all our leaders, irrespective of which party they belong to or which party you support.


Our nation, no doubt invariably follows a pseudo-democracy. Where is the ‘For the people’ part? Why it so happens that, after the people are chosen by the people, the ‘chosen people’ easily transform into ‘politicians’. Forgive me, Sir, but ‘politics’ isn’t about managing any more, it has become a ‘murky thing’, and all this while you, the Fourth Estate just looks on…refuses to act. With all the powers that make you what you are, you should be the one to bell the cat. Yes, Mr. Editor, the time has come for you to actually put into practice, your sole purpose of starting this esteemed newspaper.


We Indians need to start a revolution now with an apt war cry. And so, we need you to voice this war cry. For if we don’t start now, there won’t be any Indians left! And then I wonder Sir, who would read your ‘esteemed newspaper’! Is this asking for too much?


Yours Sincerely,
Vin

Essentially Mumbai death statistics!

The recent spate of events in Mumbai have sparked a rather disturbing but funny trend analysis in me. Given that it all started since 1993 blasts, I sure have collected pages and pages of data on the said analysis on a Comman Mumbaiite. So, let me introduce a Common Mumbaiite, one may imagine R. K. Laxman’s Common Man. Yeah, a picture is worth a thousand words but I’m no cartoonist. Please bear with the words till I hone my cartooning skills!


Common Mumbaiite – The common man/woman one sees walking in the streets, who never indulges in any kinda warfare; who believes in Ram, Christ and Allah, who visits Siddhivinayak temple at Dadar every Tuesday, St. Michaels church at Mahim every Wednesday and the Haji Ali Dargah on Friday; who breathes the heavily-polluted air all the while jammed in heavy traffic; who pays his taxes before time and also ‘haftha’ to the local hooligans, petty civic workers and/or police; who finds ‘bomb blasts’ utterly passe; who worships ‘Sachin Tendulkar’ as a Hero; who dreams of becoming the next ‘Dhirubhai Ambani’; who mentally and physically prepares to face the fierce monsoon lashes; who casually saves another life, putting his own in danger or losing it altogether while the authorities look on….;who dies of body but not of spirit.



Here are the statistics on the causes and the likelihood of death for a Common Mumbaiite:

What is the probability that a Common Mumbaiite dies from the pollution he lives in, given that he inhales as much CO as he does O2?
Ans. 0


…… dies from toiling his a** out in order to combat the ever increasing cost of living, vegetables and real estate prices?
Ans. 0.1


…… dies from heart disease given the high levels of stress, fast life and fast food?
Ans. 0.2


…..dies from brain disease given that he ‘has to’ use most of it in his survival strategy from the authorities and the so-called law and order system?
Ans. 0.3


…..dies from the ‘malaria’ caused by special Mumbai-bred mosquitoes given that these mosquitoes have mutated over the years just like him?
Ans. 0.4


…. dies from crossing the railway track since the ‘authorities’ forgot to build the ‘foot over-bridge’?
Ans. 0.5


….dies while crossing the road given that he has to break pedestrian rules as he is already late for work due to the f***ing traffic?
Ans. 0.6


….dies when a local corporator and/or police barks at or bites him given that he deals with them almost right from his food, water, clothing and shelter to a kindergarten admission for his kids?
Ans. 0.7


….dies when he is considered a threat to the ruling party and inadvertently comes in the line of fire given that the ‘Z’ category security of our beloved ministers, VIPs shoot almost anything that comes in visible range?
Ans. 0.8


…dies from a bullet given that he is always ducking them in trains, buses, temples and crowded places and is now a trained expert in the same?
Ans. 0.9


…..dies from a bomb blast given that a blast has occured just inches away from him decorating him with shrapnel and blood, his own and some others, most of his life?
Ans. 1


P.S.: This trend holds true only for Mumbaiites. In cases of death other than Mumbaiites, the trend would be reversed! And, yes, no more beauty tips from the kitchen, I’d rather give a beauty tip from my soul.


C for Courage: No beauty is complete if there is fear within. Courage is the only answer to the Devil. Stand fearless, the world salutes thy soul!

Betrayed

of what is and what isn’t?
this i shall not ask,
of who did and who didn’t
this too i shan’t ask

they sweared on oath
they loved her most
and when she beckons-
would protect her post

she lay there still
betrayed and torn-
no voice to bring
alas, of her own!

while under siege
she held on hope,
the humbuggers all,
“look, who bears the oath!”

Unnamed, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder

Vin was the most brightest star in this side of the hemisphere and an apostle of the innocents, until the bugs got her. The bugs of the ‘Untitled, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder’. One may ask ‘What? Who? Where? How?’. All answers lie ahead…Read at your own risk!

The seeds were sown in kindergarten itself. Tiny, innocent toddlers like me were taught to associate new words with similar stuff to aid memory. Little vin enjoyed this game, little did she know that the seeds were germinating!! Every new word had a little relative. One fine day, vin was no more a toddler..she had blossomed! Now, can one blame her for what occured after that, she associated ‘interesting’ words, of course to aid her memory, alas now these memories wont fade soon…Associations should be technically based on sound, color, feel, smell but here they were usually baseless, illogical, totally irrelevant ones. Some are her own associations while some of them have been transmitted unawares. Nevertheless, she struggles with these growing collectibles and posting them ensures a light wink in her eye. So, here goes…

All teenagers dread this emotionally depressing monster, I did too. I’m talking about ‘pimples’, Only my germs associated it somehow with ‘nipples’, dont ask me why. The germs have multiplied and now only associate in one lane. Side effects include utter disgust at all ‘pimple reduction/control/removal’ creams. One horrible incident: a guy asked for solution for his pimples, I eagerly said ‘Just have a lot of cooling stuff, your nipples would disappear!’
I wished to disappear…

A dear friend is always ‘associating’ the word ‘prosecuted’ with ‘prostituted’. No logic, right? Wrong, the germs know better. These germs are ‘gems’ in illogical, embarassing link-ups. All boards with ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’ becomes ‘Trespassers will be prostituted!’, whatever that means. Holy Christ, I will never trespass! This dear friend has associated another gem. A question like ‘What are the pros and cons of this method?’ becomes a story about prostitutes and conmen!! He sure loves our munni bai’s and munshiji’s from bollywood.

Another dear friend, this time a ‘she’, has compelled me to forgo one of my favorite musicians – Kenny G. Not her fault though, its her vernacular tongue.Our most popular, beloved three-lettered word ‘sex’ becomes ‘sax’. When I listened to Kenny G, I usually imagined him with his ‘Saxophone’ in his mouth, but after that it only looks like an instrument of ‘Sex’!
The germs are in their most active state.

Once I saw a very beautiful painting of two pigeons. Only later I realised to my horror, that the beautiful painting was actually a topless woman!! The germs are busy at work. All mentions of pigeons in prose, poetry, peace talks, images of them carrying twigs and paintings especially make me sore. The topless woman scares me! Am sure the germs are winking now.

All sutra ending words associate automatically with the ‘Kamasutra’, the germs know better. I wonder how i’ll ever wear the Mangal Sutra.

Kohinoor Continental is not just a ‘Gem’ of a hotel in my area, its rather an embarassing one. Even while taking an auto, I have to tell the poor chap ‘Kohinoor Continental Hotel jaana hain‘, lest he take me elsewhere. The germs have etched the kohinoor ads with permanent marker. That chap might be innocent, but my germs arent na!

And, did I say this is an extremely contagious disorder? The malfunctioning germs from the writers cranium immediately transmit themselves onto the readers cranium via brain waves during the process of reading. This survival strategy ensures healthy (read embarassment-causing), more effective and treatment-resistant progeny.

Congratulations, you’ve caught the bug too!!

P.S: Now that I’ve infected you, I better compensate with my beauty tip from the kitchen.

B for Besan: Besan is the hindi equivalent for chickpea flour. If the fallout of a sunny day at the beach is an unwanted tan, fret not! All you have to do is mix besan, a few drops of lemon juice and curds. Apply it to your face and other tanned parts of your body. Leave it on till it dries and rinse of with cool water. Repeat this procedure for 10 days.
Oh, BTW….Besan is dead effective against pimples!

An invitation from Mr. Black Cobra!

Yeah, you read that right. It all happened about a month ago. It was 5 am and I was as usual lost, lost not on the god-damn roads without billboards (am directionally disillusioned, remember??), but lost in slumberland!

He stood right in front of me, all black and shiny, now dont ask how a snake stands?; so he balanced himself upright on his coiled rear end and hissed an invite, quite an enchanting invite though I havent learnt the snake lingo, I knew for sure that the enchanting feeling it gave me was indeed my call from above !!! chalo bulava aya hain, mujhe matha ne bulaya hain.

I was glad that at last some-body/animal rather reptile has invited me to its den for some electrifying exchange of thoughts and/or theories, at least thats what I thought it meant. Come on..what else could a shiny, black cobra want from a beautiful girl like me? why else would a shiny, black cobra scare the night-lights out of me?

So, this woman of substance AKA Smart Alecca, does an innocent U-turn. She confides to her mom. Now, as all moms are, her mom was too! One may ask what? TERRIFIED, I say!!

She drags Smart Alecca all the way to the family astrologer, a Mr. Know-it-all, dont we all have one? Incidentally, he also happens to interpret dreams/nightmares whatever. That trip called upon urgently for another one…only this trip would be another 1000 kms plus from Mumbai – the trip to the Kukke Subramanya temple only 100 kms from Mangalore, where my roots are!

Here, Lord Subramanya is worshiped in the form of a Cobra, so that was indeed an invite; a call from above! Legend has it that sarpa dosha (curse of a snake) may be pardoned here by the Lord Himself provided the appropriate pooja is performed. We performed one of the poojas as prescribed by our family doctor errr family astrologer!!

Guess what I prayed for, rather humbly and naively:

Vinny ki tammana hain ke Hero use mil jaye
Chahe meri jaan jaye, chahe mera dil jaye

P.S: I’m obliged to add useful footnotes for having wasted your precious time thus far blabbering about snakes, God, Snake-God, beliefs, superstition and the likes. So, here goes my A to Z tips on Beauty from the Kitchen!! (given that men too are beauty conscious)..For all men who aren’t, just ponder on the SAKA fairness cream ad – EVOLVE!

A for Aloe vera: It is the perfect cooling remedy for a sun-burnt skin. All you have to do is pluck a fresh aloe vera leaf and extract its gel. Apply it to the sun-burnt area and rinse it off after it dries. Repeat the procedure for some days. (a tip from the garden rather?)

B for ?(check out next post!)

Love, pain and other catalysts!

I often wonder as to what is the secret formula for an average Joe / Jane to turn into a ‘somebody’? (and now even more after the huge, emotional marathon of comments on my theory!!) How and when do they find that formula? Is it the urge germinating after years of being tagged as ‘average’? Is it a ‘natural trait’- like something which is inherited, like something which tells them ‘You have loads to give the world, so go on, get it out, what are you waiting for”? Or, is it some kind of inner transformation they go through, at a sub-conscious level, in the process of combating a broken heart, a broken dream, loss of a loved one or the general injustice/ imbalance prevailing in the world?

Well, I could come up with only my personal theories….err ideas!

I observed my own evolution; I observed the evolutions of folks around me; I read through autobiographies/ biographies and my conclusion was this:

All greatness was related to creativity, all creativity was in turn related to love, pain and other emotional catalysts !

Even a tiny piece of creative work comes from either of the emotions stated above, and immediately the average Joe / Jane would get tagged as great! The once-average-now-great wonders what happened to me? I’m only trying to overcome the pain – my sweetheart is no more; I’m only trying to survive – my dad’s no more! but what they don’t realise is this: In the process of overcoming , escaping or surviving pain, this pain serves as a catalyst in bringing them closer to their ‘inner self’, the ‘inner self’ – temple of infinite potential, wherein anything that can be ‘thought of’, can be ‘created’. When we look back at our roots, our parents and their roots and so on…, we see a chain of transformations occurring at major ‘emotional points’ – loss of a loved one or a beloved, separation from a place of childhood days, letting go of a much sought after desire, unable to live up to expectations of near ones, etc.

The pain is pierced at to let out to drip off….very much like the boil that is pierced at to let out the pus, knowing that not only will it cause more pain but also it is the only way to heal, the only way to move on! Leading to original, hereby unthought-of creations! Leading to better artists, poets, writers, musicians, dancers, singers, sculptors, inventors, etc.

Some of us here can undoubtedly relate this to their experiences while writing, is it not that the best piece comes from the worst pain?

Ending with two of my favourite lines from ‘Tujhse naraaz nahi..’ from the movie ‘Masoom’:

zindagi tere gham ne hamein rishte naye samjhaaye
mile jo hamein dhoop mein mile chhaon ke thande saaye