Khatte Mithe Pal Jeevan ke, nostalgia, experiences, family, humour

They say you never realize the worth of a person until you lose him. Same is the case with the sad demise of the legendary cartoonist Pran. The characters created by him were so much part of our daily lives in 1980’s, that we never bothered about who created them. I remember that I started reading his cartoons before I could make out that प्रा 0I written is actually Pran and I pronounced it as “Pra zero one”. In those days, newspaper hawker was the most awaited person in the first week of the month (on 15 th also, if the magazine was fortnightly) and the first item to be read in any children’s magazine was invariably the comic strip by Pran. Even in the women’s magazine “sarita”, there was a comic strip Shrimatiji, which was the most sought after column by the children. We learnt that “ Chacha Chaudhary ka dimaag computer se bhi tez chalta hai (Chacha Chaudhary’s mind acts faster than a computer)” before we actually saw a computer. Also, the little fights chacha Chaudhary

The word black signifies lack of any colour, but ironically it has the grace that cannot be matched by any colour. There are so many shades of black that you can have many black dresses and still not have enough of them. Here is the list of 5 black things I desire: 1.      A DSLR Camera:            T he first black thing I desire is a DSLR camera. My fascination for SLR camera dates back to my childhood, when I was impressed with the mesmerizing pictures clicked by my uncle with his SLR camera (that was not the age of digital camera). Photography was considered a very expensive hobby in those days, but it    was a passion for my uncle and despite his modest salary, he spent a lot on this hobby. In those days I yearned to have an SLR camera. When I grew up and got a job, this dream somehow took a backseat on my priority list and I settled for a digital compact camera. But now, I strongly feel that I should have a DSLR camera and try to take perfect pictures like my uncle. So t

When I was a school girl, my father got an offer for deputation in Assam, which he accepted. During the discussions in the family, somebody said,” Why do you need to go to Pardes (foreign land)?” (Probably the word was used as our family belonged to M.P.) I strongly objected to the word “ pardes ” saying, “Why are you using the word Pardes ? Assam is our own country!” During his stay in Assam, my father told this incidence to an IAS officer, with whom he was sharing the Government guest house. Upon hearing this, the officer said, “when you go home next time, convey my “ Namaskar ” to your daughter.” When my father conveyed his message to me, I could not understand why a “ Namaskar” was needed for a simple statement. Today, when I see our countrymen fighting and spreading hatred in the name of regionalism, it pains a lot. Now I understand, the feeling behind the “ Namaskar ” conveyed to a schoolgirl by the gentleman.

“You must understand the environment in Pakistan. This has become a money-making concern. A lot of people say if you want to go abroad and get a visa for Canada or citizenship and be a millionaire, get yourself raped." When in 2005,  I read the above statement made by Mr. Parvez Musharraf, the then President of Pakistan, the first thought that stuck my mind was how miserable the condition of women could be in a country, where the country Head kept such apathetic attitude about a crime like rape. But now I see that in India also, we are hearing such things from top level politicians and bureaucrats who are supposed to be responsible for safety of women. For example: 1.      Ladko sey galti ho jati hai. Kya rape case mein phasi di jayegi? (First girls develop friendship with boys. They when differences occur, they level rape charges. Boys commit mistakes. Will they be hanged for rape).” 2.      “If any woman, whether married or unmarried, goes along with a man, with or

I had some vague idea about blogging but had never thought that I could enter this beautiful world! I always had an urge to write. As a child, I wrote some poems also, but don’t know why and how I quit writing. During the study of Engineering and subsequently landing upon a so called prestigious government job, the urge to be a writer was hidden somewhere. As writing noting on official files do not require any creativity, so the only sign that I was a creative person inside was the sense of humour displayed by me in witty conversation with my kids or the funny parodies I made to inspire them to eat their food or brush their teeth.  Also, during official functions, I was tired of giving welcome speech and vote of thanks, as I was considered the most suited for this work, but never took seriously the appreciation I got for it. After some years, when the children were old enough to provide me with spare time to write, I again ventured into writing from the spare time left from offic

There are some childhood memories which we can never forget. one such memory very close to my heart is the marriage ceremony of my doll, which became a grand family event. please go through my Hindi story based on one of my sweetest childhood memory ; my Hindi story published in online Hindi magazine  abhivyakti-hindi.org . Please go through the link below to read the story: Gudiya Ka Byah

The word nature itself brings a smile on my face, as it reminds me of my childhood days. As a child, I had never seen TV, leave apart computer and mobile phones, which were not even heard of. The only electronic gazette in the house was radio, which was always under the strict control of my elder sisters and even touching the knob of radio could be termed as a punishable offence, as it would force them to search again for the lost radio station.  It can be said that going to Mother Nature was a compulsion for the children in that era, but it never felt boring as each moment spent with nature brought its own surprises.  I become nostalgic remembering the moment spent under a tree in our own garden in the name of picnic. We used to collect peanuts, biscuits, toffee, water and head towards the tree for the picnic. The long summer afternoons appeared too short for such a picnic. Collecting berries, raw mangoes in the garden while w atching the numerous birds  was a great joy. Such picnic