195. Wrong Message

I hardly watch Television.
And when I watch, I have learnt the art of doing some important tasks during the 'break'.
That means I hardly watch advertisements.

However, this one I watched and was amazed.

A bell rings.
Father opens door.
Son enters - he is obviously a cricket player.
Father asks, "Is the match over?"
Son says, "Everybody has gone out on vacation. When will we go?" (As if the boy did not know that others are not there and went in to play match with full preparations! The kids today are not so dumb!!)
Daughter says, "I too want to go Papa."
Father promises, "Ok, we too will go on vacation (and visit some places)".

Then the wife (mother of kids :-))  says,"Why did you give such a false promise to kids? We don't have any saving after we pay y EMI (Equated Monthly Installments)"
And the man replies, "Don't worry, now I have transferred the housing loan to State Bank of India" (The EMI is less and so the family can save).

And then a photograph of the family on tour.

However, there is one absolutely fundamental wrong message in this advertisement,

Can you guess what it is?

194. Break

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break"

As the teacher enters the class, we all become silent, not out of fear but out of expectation of another time for entertainment.

“Let us discuss the word BREAK today,” she announces.

We know the game. We have to use the word in as many ways as possible.

“I want to break the silence”, Rashmi says cleverly and everybody laughs.

“Our car break is not working, so the silence is already broken” Aditya adds.

“So, did you break traffic rules?” Mohit asks.

“No, the traffic police had a break then,” Sudha adds with smile.

“Turn the break  ...” someone says and we are puzzled, is this term right? Can we turn the break?  

“My elder brother joined another company. He has a good break, he says,” Sumit adds.

“Is he the one who is good in code-break?” asks Hema.

“Oh! He is the record breaker of our school, remember?” Maya added.

“Hmm, how clever you all are! I have to break my head to use the word,” Deepankar says and again everybody laughs.

“Better break a glass than a break down,” Nandita. Her mother is psychiatrist

After few minutes the fun is over. Everyone is thinking hard to find uses of the word ‘break’

“Give us a break,” I say loudly and laughter breaks around.

This teacher has taken a break from tradition, but how effectively can she break the age long habit of other teachers?

So, her session is a good break for us – nothing more than that!  

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: XX

193. Abandoned

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "The Woman on Platform Number 10"

This is the time when millions come here; to bathe in the famous confluence.

She must be one of those; nameless, faceless Indian.

She must be above 70; frail and lonely.

The woman is here on platform number 10 for almost five hours.

 “Mother, where are you going?” I ask politely.

“Ramgadh”, she smiles.

 “What time is your train?” I ask.

“Babu, my son, knows” she replies.

“Where is Babu?” I ask.

“He is bringing a cup of tea for me”, she answers.

 I sigh.

That rascal Babu has abandoned his mother.

Will she be able to accept the truth? 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: XX

(This is a Drabble.) 

192. Painting

I am visiting his office after a long time.

The room looks cleaner and beautiful.

There is a new painting on the wall.

It is enchanting.

He is happy to note that it has attracted my attention. 

I ask him about the painting.

For half an hour he elaborates – the artist, the other paintings, and the exhibition.        

With love, with enthusiasm that is uncharacteristic of him.

I keep on wondering.

If he likes the painting so much, why is it at his back?

Is it a process that helps to show him in a different light?

Is he ‘Painting’ himself?  

(This is a Drabble.)

191. Twinning

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 37; the thirty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "and then there were none"

The twins come from that indescribable core,

Beyond darkness and light.

One  moves amongst people;

Covers itself with different passions;

It wears colors, masks, sips the emotions;

Takes positions, assumes thoughts;

It presents itself in an exciting manner;

People are more comfortable with It.

The other observes relentlessly.

It does all that the first one does.

It flows and maintains its identity.

It is naked.  It stares calmly.

So it never attracts human beings.

 It frightens.

One always feels strange to face it.

For ages they say: truth is stranger than fiction.

Indeed it is.

The Twinning seems ridiculously insane.

****

(This is a Drabble.)

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: XX

190. Wait

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 36; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "and then there were none"

Every time he came home, crowds came home.

Proud. Jubilant.

Everybody enjoyed the connection.

One day, he died. On the battlefield.

They came in large numbers. Officials, Reporters, Cameramen, Politicians.

They spoke about bravery, about legacy, about patriotism.

And then there were none. Nowhere. Never.

She waits in agony. For end of one more life. 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: XX

189. Delhi: A Perspective

I always believe that places reveal very little to us when we are not interested in them; but open up for those of us who are interested. In other words, it is not only that we choose a place, but the place also chooses us.

I have chosen Delhi as ‘my place’ for last couple of years and I always wonder whether Delhi has accepted me or not. Some signals are positive and some are neutral. After visiting many ‘spots’ and ‘sites’ and crossing the road at least 500 times; after experience the fog and the burning summer, I am still clueless about Delhi. Not only about its past; about its future; but also about its present.

How is Delhi?

It is beautiful and ugly. It is enthusiastic and depressive. It is aggressive and tolerant. It is filthy rich and extremely poor. It is cultured and vulgar. It is supersonic and slow. It is religious and mundane. It is lazy and consumerist. It is flowing and it is stagnated. It is in 21^st century and also in 16^th century. All these ‘Delhis’ coexist, hand in hand. Every time I experience it, it is different. Delhi by all means is a mystery.

Frankly speaking, Khushwant Singh is not my favorite writer. It was only after strong recommendation by one of my young friends that I touched the novel Delhi. However, I was stunned by the first paragraph itself. The narrator compares Delhi to his mistress. He says, “Delhi and Bhagmati (narrator’s mistress) have a lot in common. Having been long misused by rough people they have learnt to conceal their seductive charms under a mask of repulsive ugliness. It is only to their lovers, among whom I count myself, that they reveal their true selves.” 

So true, I felt – though I did not know about Bhagmati, I certainly knew that much about Delhi.

The principle narrator of the novel is a man. He is a Sikh. He visits foreign countries and works as a guide for foreign tourist. Through them he narrates material richness of Delhi and through Bhgamati, he shows us the poor, the vulnerable. Both enrich Delhi’s personality.

The narrator takes the readers to various places and its history. That is a fantastic journey. Places like Nigambodh Ghat, Tilpat, Suraj Kund, Okhla, Qutub Minar, Hauz Khas, Purana Quila, Red Fort… and so many others! Delhi comes alive through the narration.

What I enjoyed most is the history of Hajarat Nizamuddin – who so far was just a name of Railway Station for me. The life of this Sufi Saint is indeed inspiring. “Kings come and kings go. The will of Allah is eternal” – the words of Nizamuddin ring so true even today. So, is the story of Rakab Ganj Gurudwara. I am sure, when I visit both these places, I will have a better understanding of those and hence a far meaningful relationship with those two places. Other readers will find more such places to get the connection. The strength of the book lies in these kinds of narrations. There might be more fiction than the truth even in these narrations, but the truth that appears is blazing. One understands that Delhi has lived more life than we can imagine, Delhi has experienced more pain than one can endure and Delhi has seen so many power shifts that she hardly is affected by any power.

There are some interesting mythological stories (though not in details) spread across the pages. For example the names of the five villages that Pandavas are believed to have asked for to avoid war; how Balarama made river Yamuna zigzag. That was something which I did not know. Now I have more questions and I will seek more light on these mythological aspects as well.

His remarks on contemporary Delhi are also fascinating. For example the custom inspector, the cab driver, the crowd gathered to watch foreigner lady, the diplomatic office circle in Delhi, Republic Day Parade atmosphere.. .. Hilarious; and painful at the same time.

Being a Khushwant Singh novel, there are many women and sexual descriptions run parallel to journey of Delhi. This is one more example where an author is not able to break his image.  But his story of Delhi is so interesting that it did not stop me from reading the novel. 

And the human face of Khushwant Singh, the author makes a strong appearance through the pages. In Chapter 18, the narrator talks about ‘Builders’ – a narration spread over 30 pages. The narrator of this chapter is a contractor of Lutyens' Delhi. The contractor is none else but father of Khushwant Singh – Sobha Singh!! The author who cannot write without sex even when he is describing the life of Hajarat Nizamuddin or while a young man is watching Gandhijee’s prayer his mind thinks about Dr. Sushila in no less vulgar terms. But it only when the author is narrating the story of his real father, he abstains from any mention to sexuality. This only shows that one thinks  about ‘our own people’ in a different way !!

If you know when and how to ignore Khushwant Singh, this book makes one of the best reads. If you allow the author to irritate you, you will certainly not enjoy the book. However, with his knowledge of the city and the history of the city and the command on the language, I would  recommend that Delhi is worth reading! It is an interesting perspective about Delhi. 

Delhi- a novel: Khushwant Singh

Penguin Books, India

1990

Price: Rs. 250/- (paperback)