Balwant rai Mehta committee-Chapter III(Tryst in Terai)

Mohal chand knew ‘pearl’ was what he was looking for his son Bhagwan lal,the fool had temerity to ask for Rs 1000 to go to Chandigarh with his friends, this seemed like a last straw to him , now Mohal chand’s life was one long balance sheet where only credits figured debit was only for the temple he had built in memory of his grandmother after all it was a sincere thanks for willing him the ancestral haveli passing over other contenders, Asset was for him everything which earns money or has a potential like his son marrying ‘Pearl ’,Liabilities were daily existence like splurging on food, clothes, maintaining the house, college fee etc and being a shrewd operator he knew spending on his business of forging agro tools in Sangrur is a worthwhile investment, which was booming with agro economy of Punjab and now suddenly he had seen demand for new tools which were used in this new industry called ‘poultry ’.
Bhagwan lal was fuming as usual his father had refused him the money, he murmured”..what does he know about zindagi”,Bhagwan was not type to spend money recklessly but than you have to have Padma…,Tinku’s poultry farm had this Nepali supervisor Jungbahadur and Padma was his newly wedded wife.Tinku,Bhagwan were schoolmates and after the school Tinku had joined poultry biz of his father Darshan singla, Tinku did spend considerable time on the farm one of the reasons being Nepali girls, they had developed a brotherhood of farms where the girls were moving across overtly for work but mostly were quenching the lusty urges of the farm owners. Bhagwan had been ravishing Padma for last six months now but was still not able to get enough of her milky body.
‘Pearl’ was really the pearl of eyes of father Omparkash Garg, and pearl she was albeit a thick, round, black one add to that scholarly specs she wore and it was’nt a pearly sight to others, Omparkash knew these limitations and had put on stake the big land in Haldwani alongwith the layer bird project. Things did move very fast Bhagwan lal was ready to move to Haldwani for the opportunity it presented to fulfill all desires , only thought which crossed Bhgwan lal’s self obsessed mind he noted to self… need to have Padma once more before the marriage happens.

(Idyllic view from Poultry farm painting by Joshita Rawat)
Marriage was grand although Mohal chand did feel it waste of money instead Omparkash should have handed over the extra cash to him.In 1980 Pearl and Bhagwan moved to Haldwani, farm location was fabulous by the side of canal with lower Himalayan hills faraway and the first day Bhagwan sighted two Bihari women labours taking bath beneath the tap, wet petticoats were sticking to exercised body curves, Bhagwan lal knew his life was made, he smacked lips and smiled beneath.

(This purely a work of fiction any resemblence to persons living or dead is incidental)

Balwant rai Mehta committee- Chapter II( Sun shines again)

It was in a refugee camp nearby to the Shiva temple of Sirhind in October 1947 10 year old Chironjilal Mehta found his bearings after nearly three months of delirious existence,he trekked thousands of kilometers across the imaginery Radcliffe line, trudging through Lahore madness was abundant but memory of his village Taliwal near town of sheikhupura was nightmare.. “ Noore chadhhi na..Maar behnchhod nu!”, he at first could not believe his ears his own dear Chacha Karimbaksh shouting that, running like a mad dog jumping from the window sill later on he could clearly recall mutilated bodies of his parents.
If anyone of you happen to travel on G T Road you can easily make out Sirhind, After entering Punjab at Shambhu border and just before the steel city of Mandi Gobindgarh is this historical place famous for its Gurudwara Fatehgarh sahib, urban Punjab is confusion galore and in 1947 it was even more chaotic and picking up threads was’nt easy business as door to door ‘Saree Salesman’ was tough, paranoia attacks and uneasy nightmares kept on happening, carrying on with his own burden and already aged beyond his years Chironji married a young widow Harpreet in 1967 during baisakhi but living in his hazy world he could never consummate the marriage neither could control so far repressed harmones of Harpreet which found easy outlets in crowded campus of refugee camp, various illicit liasions did yield Rakesh Mehta.

(lonely Rakesh by the temple Painting by Ms Joshita Rawat)
Rakesh Mehta was unwilling entrant to this world born a month late than usual in 1977 taunts,jeers,leers of neighbours for his mother coupled with lack of a male anchor soon the state of statelessness of his father got imbibed into the being of Rakesh the child, survival instinct was perfect but it could never develop into diligence associated with the Punjabi community, Harpreet despite her wandering ways tried to somehow make up for the lost years but could never fathom the erratic behavior of the silent child.The camp was camp no more it was ghetto of small houses completely overlapping not only on sides but roof to roof as well, the lanes were dark and musty smell was all pervading.Faltering & confused Rakesh cleared the VIIIth class in 1997, daily existence was difficult, Chironji had completely stopped the wandering salesman work, Harpreet was working as maid in Gurudwara sahib but that was good enough for two meals a day, Rakesh wanted to move away.
He met Parvati..the kumaoni girl , sitting alone in the PSRTC bus originating from Nainital which he was boarding for Ludhiana the big city two hours away and suddenly he could feel the sunshine, the musty smell seemed to be melting away and than Rakesh smiled.

(Purely a fiction any resemblence to pesrons living or dead is incidental)

Balwant Rai Mehta committee- Chapter I(The great Fall)

Than ‘Ballu’ fell !this time running behind the bullock cart.

Ballu was the unstable type few people could have called him dim or dumb but it was his eagerness, he could fell while running, he would fell while sitting/standing in fields..he was always falling, born with Flat feet mother Bhagwani Devi was sure it was bad eye of spinster Mattho next door also she was also sure ‘Devi Jwala mai’ will certainly punish Mattho for same,father Telu ram dogra had named new born Balwant Dutt Dogra , Teluram worked as operator or rather water regulator/distributor for B D O office on ‘Kuhl ’ the gravity fed irrigation canal running through the village . By quirk of fate the illiterate Mattho prevailed over omnipresent and all powerful ‘Devi Jwala Mai’ and Ballu not only fell inadvertently but also developed a….developed ah..snag or so people thought wherin coveted things also fell alongwith Ballu say if Ballu wants mango on tree so not only Ballu fell but lock/stock/barrel the branch fell alongwith the unfortunate mango or if it was natures call Ballu was attending to in open field than water pitcher will fall with all other falling things and of course Ballu and by the way the bullock cart too had turned turtle after Ballu fell down.

(Carefree Ballu running behind the Bullock cart..Painting courtesy Ms Joshita Rawat)
Palampur is small taluk in Kangra district and Balotha is small village twenty five kms from Palampur surrounded by small hills regular feature in New Himachal the area derived from erstwhile Punjab province, it was a village of mixed affliations with agrarian Dogras making bulk of populace alongwith two Jasrotia Rajput families and one Dixit Brahman family, the Sheeshpal mahajan was the lone ‘Kiryana’ the grocery shop owner, Teluram in predominantly agrarian village had become quite an influensive guy with sole power of water distribution and had developed that keen sense of cunningness or more appropriately sense of self promotion quite common with middle caste Himachalis, the Panchayat elections in 1987 had come Teluram got the fine idea of running for Gram pardhan or village head, chucking the insignificant job he jumped into fray, the symbol with tinge of pride taken by him was of a ‘cycle’ and on went his compaign, It was ‘Secharday’ the day initial Teluram had already covered two voter families on his cycle and as he turned the village square towards Ruliram’s house… came running mongrel like Ballu and tried to jump over pillion seat of cycle and than he fell!
Teluram somehow survived the fall, lost his cycle, had already lost the job, lost his mind and within few years lost the will to live as well. Ballu meanwhile kept on falling down, getting up again falling alongwith the things desired, next ten years were spent in passing five classes but bumbling Ballu had by now developed same cunningness as his father and armed with Vth pass certificate he reached Chandigarh and worked as waiter with local ‘Tony restaurant’ in sector-17 till the time he fell again!!!!!

(This is purely work of fiction any resemblence to persons living or dead is incidental)

Balwant Rai Mehta Commmittee-Prologue( The fellowship)

Remember this great man known as ‘Father of panchyati raj’..yes he is the same baldy who tried to give you sleepless nights during exam times but could not suceed since great Indian education system does not entail compulsory civics reading beyond Xth standard secondly civics was always minion stepbrother to history, to refresh you this Gujrati headed a committee which paved for panchyat system in rural India and which is bringing happines to millions of populace …maybe lakhs..okay few thousands atleast with its great opportunity of siphoning off billions of rupees being channeled into rural development and now with pride its to be noted that women ‘punches’ are equally efficient in upliftment by downloading the state money.
Thank me for that little introduction but of course I am not here to give political science lessons, am talking about another fellowship made up of Balwant Dutt Dogra stocky little Himanchali from Kangra(New Himanchal as he had a penchant for saying) another peculiar habit of his which he shared with other Himanchalis was calling ‘Saturday’ as ‘Secharday’..he was operating as hatchery supervisor with a local poultry firm in Nainital called ‘Pearl’ and lived in quarters provided by company within the Farm/Hatchery premises with his wife and two devils which was totally appropriate for his two sons and every colony member could have vouched for that, second member of committee was Anil Rai ‘foul mouthed but sweet toothed’ from Deoria who always bragged about his acres in east UP, about the Bhumihar pride and he could have been listed in Limca book of records for profanities he can shoot in ten seconds he was the farm supervisor in same poultry firm and lived within the same quarters as Balwant but his family of seven inclusive of his blind mother lived in ancestral village near Tarkulwa bazaar around 70 kms from Deoria..Rai had this amorous fixation for Balwant’s wife infact he was sort of person who drooled over anything curvecious and lusted over any kind of female form , lastly was Rakesh Mehta the Punjabi from Sheikhupura(Pakistan) whose father settled in Sirhind district during partition and Mehta had this habit of conversing in English after he’ve had one pouch of ‘Haldwani queen’ the desi spirit with nauseating rose smell, his fluency was in direct proportion to pouches of ‘Haldwani queen’ he’ve had, Mehta worked as commercial officer for this firm and again he lived in same premises but his wife of 10 years ran away to her parents house last year after enduring for so many years the boxing practiced by Mehta on her which always left two black eyes on her but certainly relieved the itching in Mehta’s fists.
The committee was formed on Wednesday to be precise the Wednesday of December 2008 the date was 13th, ‘Lalajee’ or Bhagwan lal Mohal chand who had emigrated to Haldwani from Sangrur(Punjab) in 1980s was the managing director ‘pearl’, Bhagwan lal was one of those guys who make it a principle in life to lead a unprincipled life, ethics was a tough English word for him but riding on a poultry boom for twenty years ‘Lalajee’ had amassed great wealth but for last two years with bird flu outbreak and recent economic downturn the business was suffering greatly and Bhagwan lal was never the guy who would think in recessionary times “ to keep head down, believe in yourself and your people during tough times” so logically Bhagwan lal decided to let go of the few employees…… and than the fellowship was born

(Bonding painting done by Ms Joshita Rawat)

(This is purely a work of fiction any resemblence to persons dead or alive is incidental)

Adventures of Khoosee

A humorous peom was penned by One colleague Girish as a spoof on another colleague aftermath of team building offshore visit.
I have taken gist of that and without changing the setting or flow but adding new-few words which makes it refreshing twist on original and omitting out offensive details I present this purely work of imagination or fiction if our beloved (One & only) would make a trip and starts acting as usual:

(Isis the Love goddess)

At Cairo airport did Khoosee land,
And promptly broke into bhangra on the sand.
When he saw the opportunities abound ,
To celebrate, enjoy and make a lot of sound

Egyptians Didn’t know what socked their collective balls,
When they saw khoosee from across the hall
Frantically to Isis and all Egyptian Gods
They fretted, they cried and desperately made calls

But woe, oh woe those poor panicky souls
With Khoosee in midst they smashed their heads on the walls
Eventually the entire Cairo threw a collective fit
They quickly scanned for the emergency exit

And decided that it was in their best interest to run
For here's the biblical plague and flood rolled into one
Soon the Egyptians hatched a conspiracy,
To get rid of Khoosee and their misery.

The Egyptians used a technique of 4000 yrs old,
Whenever a harlequin bends down they were told,
It's bore that you have to then target,
Shove it up with all your might - and then forget

(Painful joker picture courtesy Ms Joshita Rawat)

And now runs Khoosee loose in the desert,
Without his red chaddi and without his shirt,

Dev D: Must watch

Abhay Deol as Dev from a movie still

Before I say anything about the movie, I just want to mention that here is finally music that made me brought out my ipod from behind the cob-webs and listen to each and every beat & instrument distinctly. Each song is a treat to hear. The ones that stood out for me were 'emotional atyachaar' and 'saali khushi'.

Now about the movie. A recap first. When Bhansali made devdas, I heard so much about the sets and costumes, that I decided to watch it in theater. I sat in anticipation as did a few Americans in the front rows. Now only the real fans or poor buy tickets for the front row. Here in US, of course the price is the same, no matter which row you sit in. So, the passion that these hippies had was worth commending. Anyways, these guys walked out after about 15 minutes followed by me (mentally) in the next 15. What a waster of money and time, I thought.

When Manisha told me DevD was the modern devdas, my previous experience weighed heavily on my mind, and I was somehow put off. But this movie is truly a treat. The over dramatization that sank Bhansali's movie is totally removed from this one, and each scene and dialogue carries the movie very well. When paro gets married to another man, Dev D spends a lot of time just loitering around on the dark roads of Delhi, and in a time when you would think that the movie would become boring, you couldnt be more wrong. The shots taken of Delhi's night life are probably the best parts of the movie. The music in the background, at the same time, elevates the whole movie to a totally different level and is in complete harmony.

I became a fan of Abhay Deol when I watched Oye lucky. With this movie, I am completely sold. Another man on my list is Anurag Kashyap. Thanks Anurag for this beautiful movie that brought my passion back into music and movies at a time when all the movies seemed so superficial and formulaic (including Slumdog).

Sleepless in Indo China...Images.

Vietnamese lady selling goodies..
Road side vendors like these are common selling everything from nuts to fruits to candies and even condoms, latest rage is Chinese toys. As night grows on you the wares change shape ,the commodity is different.



The Singer in Malaysian Genting Highlands

Orientals are Great showman more so in touristy countries like Thailand, Malaysia and arrange shows of international standards.

Reunification Palace in Ho Chi Minh
The Place where americans got it down their throat.

‘Samudra Manthan’ at Suwarna bhumi International airport, Bangkok
Hindu legacy with Ayutthaya in Thailand , Bali in Indonesia , Angokar Vat in Cambodia and comtemporary Batuk caves in Malaysia is all pervading, more so with Thai and Indonesian languages have good smattering of Sanskrit words.

Good food and Beer Maketh a man
Restaurant on outskirts of Saigon, makes for great bonding .

World is my Playground.Tired in Kuala lampur, unwinding starts with a game of Bowling and than goes on……………,All work no play makes us dull.

Tiger has awakenedBooming economies in all this area be it Phillipines, Vietnam , Indonesia , Malaysia or longstanding ones like Singapore,Taiwan etc means startling changes at rapid pace.. worry is latest downturn.

China town

Constand feature of all these countries , you cannot escape chinese.

Phở .... Thupka revisited in Saigon

(Web downloaded photograph)

Phở is served as a bowl of white rice noodles in clear beef broth, with thin pieces of beef. Variations featuring chicken was one I tried.
Ho chi minh is full of fancy restaurants and those serving Vietnamese food abound one such cool place is ‘ Vietnam house’ I only saw firangs eating there ,food was very good here Infact I tasted ‘Chicken rice in Lotus leaf ’ there, but again there is this food chain which normally akin to others which abound Metros like HCMC ,it is called ‘ Pho 24 ’ kind of great tasting very cheap food meant for officegoers and its speciality is Pho the dish Vietnam worships.
The Pho I have had took me to the time of late 80s when local bus stand still worked in Doon and Shady, smelly Tibetan shacks served the ‘Thupka’ which again was broth of I think Mutton with chunks of grated meat, Cabbage leaf mixed with Soysouce, chilly and vinegar it was heavenly, I swear I got same feeling this time…it was delicious.
There are variants of phở in Vietnam, particularly divided between northern (Hanoi) central and southern (Ho Chi Minh/Saigon). I have had the Saigon one!!!
…….. see the empty bowl I left behind.

(Photo clicked through my MOTO ROCKER)

Lagi aaj saawan ki phir woh jhadi hai.....

1990, Sultry Sridevi clad in see-thru yellow saree tied to expose naval, dances like a young girl as if her feelings are aroused by her first saawan. Vinod Khanna watches from the first floor balcony, but his empty eyes can’t see Sri. The saawan brings back painful memories of the times he spent with his own lover. The song is probably the pinnacle of rain dance in a bollywood flick. Sridevi, also, probably was the pinnacle of classic Indian beauty. I watched Chandni five times in the theater, so spellbound I was by her magical charm.

1992, Surat, it rained cats and dogs that summer. Friend of mine & I went to the city to run errands. We took the local bus on our way back. When we reached close to the campus, the road going towards the college was completely flooded. We were dropped by the bus 200m before the college gate. We rolled up our pants and went back to the college walking through two feet water with rain drops smashing on our heads. Nevertheless, it was thrilling experience.

Sometime in 90s, I was in Doon on one of my regular visits. As usual, Dinu & I decided to take a walk into the Cantt area. It was cloudy, but we decided not to take umbrellas. By the time we reached inside Cantt, it started raining so heavily, that we got no time to find shelter. We ran, but we realized it made it worse plus the thick raindrops painfully hit our faces like little hammer. We walked back home taking the rain in our stride. At one point we crossed a couple of equally adventurous girls, walking merrily with their suits totally drenched in rain and stuck to their bodies. Our saawan instincts took over and after reaching about 10 meters ahead of them, we took off our t-shirts and exposed our manly bodies, to them, with water dripping frantically down our young and naked flesh. As Rose from Titanic would say - it was one of the most erotic moment of our lives. BTW, this was before we got married, just to make it legal.

1995, my last bachelor year. Ajay, Ajay Arora, Anu, Ekta, Dinesh, Ashish, and I took a trip to Mussorie on bunch of Puchs & Hondas. The weather remained cloudy while we were in Mussorie, but as soon as we started descending, it started raining heavily. We got totally drenched as the rain pierced our faces on high speed drive downhill. Instead of stopping, we drove faster even though the bends were treacherous. On our way, we noticed a hut-shop that was serving hot tea, and we sat there sipping on our steaming tea and puffing on navy cuts while watching wet road through the water sliding down the edges of the hut.

Today, it rains again, and it brings back these and other memories. It's not saawan, yet, but change is surely in the air. After real severe winter, this is the first rain of the spring. For the first time this year, yesterday, the temps creeped up into 60s (Fahrenheit). The street was clad with young boys playing basketball and riding their skateboards. Kabir and Krishi also enjoyed the swings in the backyard. Here's wishing everybody great season ahead.

Krishna Coaching..Summer of '88

(Painting: Ms Joshita Rawat)

There could only be one 1988 in our whole lifetime and momentous year it was! We had completed our board exams and middle class anxiety was taking its shape, only growth avenues we small townies knew was being a techie, few of us also opted for being medicos and this all opting depended on what you took as major during SSC ;Maths or Biology, we from CBSE were little privileged in that sense.
Being a engg was ultimate for good life you became Astt engg in govt and than earned loads of money(only vague ideas were available how this money came about)also we had our own classifications B Tech degree was considered superior to BE and Bsc engg was bit inferior, MNR was still a measure of success and IIT was passed only by students of St Josephs, parents took pride in fact that kids were ‘Tyyari kar rahe hain’ or ‘preparing for Engg’.
So with these fixed ideas we(Pintoo, Garg ,Rajesh & me tagging along , Mendi also joined sometimes,Alok had completed his preparation stint already ) in 1988 went scouting for mentors/ teachers who could make this possible for us, Pintoo had till now had developed that poker faced expression which to some felt like a calm exterior but I for sure could fathom the utter blankness inside, Garg & gupta were archetypal Banias(Trading class) who went looking for best bargains.
Our first stop was ‘ Krishna coaching’ near Bindal bridge towards Tilak road , the man in Kurta Pyjama for not even once to us seemed anywhere close being a educationist, his opening line “ Paisa phekhon tamasha dekhon” or “ Money does the trick” actually did it for us , back we were laughing all the way to Garg’s house on our cycles, in retrospect I realize maybe he was alluding to coaching clases racket prevailing wherein for money thay made sure you passed exams.
Jitender Sindhwani and Alok Saini our classmates enticed us to this new coaching centre in Karanpur( I cannot get exact location) started by school called ‘Ideal children academy’ again a one stop shop for all those just wanted a certificate of completion of formal education,Fathers of Jitender/Alok were DBS college (or was it DAV) teachers who started teaching in these new classes.Four days were spent there, Garg/Gupta felt it was’nt value for money and so ended the this tryst as well.
Garg soon paid Rs 40k and joined Shimoga engg college, Rajesh went to YMCA, Fridabad basis his Haryana domicile, Alok had gone to Surat.Mayank already knew that he did not need teachers and started preparing, Mendi/me as after thought too joined ‘prepration’ and continued preparing for two years in between I spent few months in Polytechnic whilst Mendi also did some ‘ Chit fund’ biz with his uncle.. you think that’s long , than ask Chauhans..our neighbour all of whom prepared for atleast four years .
So ended eventful summer of ’88 .