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Tuesday, April 8, 2014

God is Laughing.

       It was just break of the day, a dawn i mean. The sun had not shown full on the horizon. Just a sneak and peek look. A woman comes in a jiffy to pluck yellow flowers from  a bush that only had those two blossoms for the day. She stole its magic and left secretly. Another woman entered the scene in a hurry but with confusion. She felt guilty of being two minutes late and walked away with a hanging face. Minutes later an old man just after his morning bath came up to the bush but only plucked some leaves in absence of flowers. 

This is the drama I enjoy every morning from my balcony. The devotees struggling to please God every morning. But more than the ritual of their actual prayers, I think the God enjoys the flower drill more.The bush also supports the drama by never giving more than four to five flowers a day to end the struggle of innocent worshipers. When these people come out for post dinner walk on the street they secretly scan the buds that would bear flowers the following morning. In their sleeps they know deep inside how many flowers they will have tomorrow to offer for prayers. I am a close observer of their facial expressions. I know the happiness of having all the flowers and the pain of compromising with leaves instead.
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Water Phobia

The onset of winters make weather and overhead tank water a natural freezer. This is when India becomes a land of water savers. A season when water is treated either like the auspicious Gangajal or like the dangerous concentrated sulphuric acid.  

I have my own experience with a colleague. Those were our bachelor days and we were staying together to share bundles of joy, sorrows and many more on the list. James was his name. A real hardworking guy and gem of a person. James loved winters for many reasons. Through out the year he would curse Delhi but  in winters he would say ' Delhi rocks man !' 

As the average temperature touched 20 degree Celsius he would ask me to join for his traditional winter shopping.  A black inner and a jacket was all that he needed to smile in the winters. He never thought of buying two black inners. 
"Just one will do" , he would say when I used to insist him for buying another one.
This one black inner vest would stick to his upper half of the body like Karan's Armour ( Kavach) in Mahabharata. He would sleep, jog,date,work and eat wearing that same inner wear. For office he would wear a formal shirt over the same inner vest without a second thought. He was quick in winters. Just a sprinkle of water drops on face and hair was social equivalent of a morning bath. Over the weeks the black inner vest used to become more black with accumulated filth,dust,oil and sweat. He hated water all winters. Disliked even to wash hands and preferred spoon and forks like an Englishmen.   

He went on to avoid bath for as long as three weeks sometimes. Those were tough times with him. The hair gel and greasy hair made altogether the deadliest pungent smelling chemicals known to mankind. No amount of deodorant would make him smell good. I would plead him for a bath on weekends. But he rarely gave in. And on those lucky occasions the same inner vest without a wash would find back its place to do the warming job. 
Sometimes he would ask for my shirt for office or for a date. I used to be in a state of dilemma to  give or not. I used to make excuses like its lying dirty but he would confidently say " Man it cannot be dirtier than me!"
So that line was true and charming enough for me to part my shirt for few days.

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