Wangdu's Wisdom...

Dear World,

Now, this was a deliberate beginning to my letter. Not “Hey ssup” or “Wazzaaa” or “Howdy” like 98.37% of other people my age would have begun. I preferred to begin with the traditional salutation, not because my 4th grade English teacher taught me that is how it should be done, but out of my own sheer preference for the way I felt all the readers of this letter should be addressed.

Anyway, I just want to share with you my views on this really nice movie I saw lately. I also learn that it has gone on to become the highest grossing bollywood movie of all time cashing in 2.4 Billion Rupees or USD 51 Million and counting. Right since the time I saw “3i” or “3 Idiots”, there have been these thoughts in my mind about the true message that the movie conveys. Actually, not really what the movie conveys, rather what should I actually be making of it. What’s my takeaway? Is being Chatur, foolishness? Can all of us really be Phunsukh Wangdu? How really does the youth of this country think? Do we think at all?

The movie is a beautiful take on defying convention, on the art of friendship, on heeding to your heart’s call, on prioritization in life, on prioritizing life over escapist measures like a suicide. The movie is a brilliantly non preachy take on the pressures faced by the youth in India. But it also states that this pressure is self created. It suggests some rather cheesy, but outrageously workable methods of crisis management. It also makes a much deserved mockery of our educational systems which propagate the herd mentality, discourage out of the box thinking, I wonder if they really want us to think at all or just blindly follow. Imagine even the dean of the college looking up the thick encyclopedias for the meanings to the terms “Farhanitrate” and “Prerajulization”!!!!!!

It also peeps into the heart of aspirational India. An India which is not shining, neither is it incredible, bur still savors an ambition of social upward mobility and considers the dysfunctional education system a catalyst in its pursuit. The movie wonderfully pampers a rebel. It encourages change. It seeks to incubate innovation. It shatters the premise of social conformity to the systems and conventions. And while doing all of this, it also teaches us a thing or two about the sheer non materialistic nature of true love.

Having said all this, my most important takeaway from the movie still remains the fact that the movie appreciates “being different”. All through my growing up years, I’ve never been able to confine myself to one set of ideas, people, behaviours or interests. I love being MYSELF. And most of our youth today, as I see it, is trying to FIT IN to the social definitions of what’s COOL… rather than creating a niche for themselves and taking real pride in who they are! It is more important to people of my age to think, act and behave according to what everyone else thinks will be cool.

We want to do things, not because we like doing them, but because if we did them, our friends would think a certain way about us. We are too concerned in trying to please almost everyone apart from ourselves. We use social networking to connect with hundreds of our friends, but I think our generation has miserably failed in connecting with themselves. Anything “different” is usually questioned, looked down upon and sometimes even humiliated rather than being appreciated for its talent and interests.

Imagine telling your friends that you hate the concept of partying on Saturday Night and would rather enjoy an Indian classical music recital by Kishori Amonkar. Imagine you don’t want to go out drinking and dancing away on X - Mas eve but you wish to spend the day with the kids at the orphanage or go for the midnight mass at the Church. Imagine the reaction of your friends when you’d tell them that you’re going hiking to welcome the New Year or attend a poetry reading of the works of Kabir on 31st night rather than welcoming the New Year with a hangover. I’m sure each one of us can gauge the response our peers are likely to throw at us.

For me the greatest takeaway was the confidence that Rancho had, to reclaim his identity as Phunsukh Wangdu and make it sought after enough for a Silicon Valley dude to come to India chasing him all the way upto Ladakh. The bright spot of the movie really is the confidence with which Wangdu signs the “Declaration of Defeat” fully knowing that he’s the real winner. 3i tells you to pursue your passions, so that success will eventually have to follow you. (Khud hi ko kar buland itna… ke har taqdeer se pehle… khuda bande se khud pooche, bataa, teri raza kya hai?) It gives you the courage to be the schoolteacher Wangdu, rather than being “Chatur” a man in a mad rush to pursue material pleasures of a well paid job and the luxuries of life. Untill we realise these things… “All is well”!!!

Best regards,

Himanshu Kapadia

Till Death Do Us Part....

The Prelude:

While going through some of my research on social issues in India, I came across this report on Domestic Violence. Violence against women is a serious problem in India. Overall, one-third of women age 15-49 have experienced physical violence and about 1 in 10 have experienced sexual violence. In total, 35 percent have experienced physical or sexual violence.This figure translates into millions of women who have suffered, and continue to suffer, at the hands of husbands and other family members. The frustration had to be vented, so here it goes....


The Poem:

“SMACK” came the first one, and she fell to the floor,
Heeding to her instincts, she got up and ran to shut the door.

Her advances were curtailed, and “BANG” came another one,
She tried hard to escape, but was gripped tightly by her bun.

Now the scene got murkier, and the beast lost his fuse,
Unzipping his pants, he removed his belt and put it to its next best use.

It went on for half an hour more, while the hooligan was in his trance,
The helpless lady was beaten up sore, sanity had no real chance.

A loss in a silly game of cards compounded by a heavy desi dose,
The frustration had to manifest itself, so the usual victim it chose.

Beaten, gagged and ravaged she was, forced to perform the pleasure act,
Oh what sadistic pleasure it could’ve been, it was a one sided pact.

He kicked the food and had his drink, till he lay unconscious on the bed,
Irony had her last laugh, she was still breathing besides him, her soul, long dead.

The Indian ways of life and the feminine strife are miraculously strange,
They see hell each living day with a smile, and shed a tear sometimes for a change.

It’s a wedding gift they say with pride, our husband’s a God, its close to our heart,
We’ve promised to bear with them, come what may, till death do us part!

Allow me to die...

The Prelude:

I read today's Times of India front page story: The plight of a 61-year-old women, who suffered a brutal sexual assault 36 years ago and has been lying in a vegetative state in a Mumbai hospital ever since, has moved the Supreme Court into setting aside its pro-life stance and examining the woman’s plea that her life be ended.

The woman, Aruna Ramachandra Shanbaug, does not want to live any more. Doctors have told her there is no chance of any improvement in her state. So she, through her ‘next friend’ Pinki Virani, decided to move the SC with a plea to ‘‘direct KEM Hospital not to force-feed her. This report jolted and stirred many emotions of disgust, anger, hopelessness and sympathy in me and I chose to manifest them through the following poem.......

The Poem:

I lie on my bed, oblivious to the world around,
I breathe no air, eat no food, I hear no sound
My room is locked, like it’s been for years,
I feel no emotion, no smile, no tears.

Completely unaware of the world around me,
No friend to support, no visitor to see.
Nothing to do and no wish to be,
Even loneliness seems to have deserted me.

Let me tell you what happened 36 years ago,
How exactly I took this irreversible blow.
Let me tell you the story of my fateful strife,
How it made, a mere mockery of life.

I was assaulted and used like a toy,
I was traumatized and sodomized by a ward boy.
Waylaid I was, wrapped with a dog chain around my neck,
A woman… a pet…. A toy, who cares, what the heck!

The chain cut off the oxygen and the blood supply to my brain,
Blinded, speechless, paralyzed, too numb to feel the pain.
I headed to the coma, and have been there since,
Life reached a full stop, thanks to my prince.

I’m just minutes away from a busy street scene,
I only get to see it 5 times a day, when the nurse comes to clean.
I love my nurses, we share a great bond,
Despite their love and care, I fail to respond.

I lie motionless in my room in a vegetative state,
Food spooned in my mouth, I don’t know what I ate.
Thanks to the shoddy work by cops, my prince got away,
After just 7 years in prison, he was freed to go astray.

The question is, what happens to me now,
I wish to invite death, But I don’t know how.
My caretaker has gone and pleaded to the law,
Silly girl, she overlooked an inherent flaw.

They will never let go of me, however hard she’d try,
The law, the people, this sadist world, just wants me to cry.
Knowing that I have no emotions left, my eyes have turned dry,
They’d still want me to shed a tear, only just once, before they allow me to die.

Birthday of a Bulleted Bombay!!!

It’s the first birthday, but rest assured that there will be no cake cutting and candle blowing. However, you might just see some candles burning brightly in the memory of what can be called a grand spectacle of the audacity of terror – the 26 / 11 Mumbai Terror Attack. Official figures claimed that 173 people were killed and over 300 injured, but the effects of this ‘in our face’ brutality can never be fully quantified. It has indeed dented our psyche, and left Mumbai more vulnerable than ever before.

Mumbai has not been alien to such dastardly acts. Since the 1993 serial bomb blasts, many such incidents have rocked the city, but each time, the city has fought back and emerged stronger. The true cosmopolitan Mumbaikars have proved time and again that they share a common sense of belonging to the city, rising way above any linguistic barriers which some of the political class has been trying to perpetrate for decades. The thing about greatness is, that beyond a point you start taking it for granted. The famed "Spirit Of Mumbai" has been lauded and almost always taken for granted by the administration as a garb to overshadow its own inefficiencies.

The attacks had multiple, far-ranging effects. The impact was felt on Mumbai and on Maharashtra state, and throughout urban India. The Maharashtra state government has planned to buy 36 speed boats to patrol the coastal areas and several helicopters for the same purpose. It has also initiated an anti-terror force called "Force One" and plans to upgrade all the weapons that Mumbai police currently possesses.

Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh on an all party conference had declared that legal framework will be strengthened in the battle against terrorism and a federal anti-terrorist intelligence and investigation agency, like the FBI, will be set up soon to co-ordinate actions against terrorism. Government strengthened Anti terror laws by UAPA 2008, and federal National Investigating Agency was formed.

But the real question is, do we feel any safer than what we did a year ago? And the obvious answer is No. Mumbaikars have shown the same apathy while it came to voicing their opinion through their ballots, both at the Lok Sabha and the Assembly elections clocking a measly voter turnout. The same Home Minister of our state is back in office, according to whom 26/11 was just another incident in a city like Mumbai. Local trains remain as crowded and as vulnerable as ever. Uniform ID Cards for citizens is yet a dream which is resting on the credibility of a certain Mr. Nilekani till it becomes a reality.

The voices of dissatisfaction with the probe are growing louder with each passing day. The administration has again been put to shame by the widows of the slain martyrs asking fundamental questions regarding the probe, to which the state mechanism seems to have no answers. Ajmal Kasab the lone captured face of terror still awaits a sentence thanks to our painfully lethargic legal system.

Nothing much has changed, except that now, even in Diwali if we hear a cracker explode, we yet want to make sure that it’s just that!

Ode to nice guys....

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

I just thought this definitely deserves to be shared with everyone.... :-)

Honestly must say, one of the best pieces of written material ever that I've read through... Thanks Aditee for sharing this with me....Here it goes...


This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores.

This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny

/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.


This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.


This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor.


This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.


The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks.


Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.


So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgment, and my gratitude go out to you.

You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.


Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

2 States & 1 Entertainer - My Take...

Well, I have to admit that even after all these years of reading, if there was one author, If I may call him so, who could compel me to actually pen down a book review / my opinion on its author, it would have to be only Chetan Bhagat.

Chetan, according to me, is hardly an author. I feel, and I’m sure he agrees with me, when I say, that he is, primarily is an entertainer. It is only coincidence that he chooses to entertain us through the medium of the written word.

Having read and thoroughly enjoyed his previous three ‘mistakes’, I was anxiously waiting for him to err the fourth time around! And he did. I was lucky enough to get my copy of his latest book “2 States – The story of my marriage” yesterday in hand.

There are some things in life, which once you get your hands on, are never easy to let go off without exploring completely. Women and Chetan Bhagat books are just two of those things.

Chetan, who is touted as the “Rockstar of Indian publishing” is credited with the distinction of bringing back my generation to books. I think there are certain key reasons why Chetan and his kind of literature click with the Indian Youth:-

1. Chetan’s simple, lucid and personal style of story telling. When his characters talk, you feel you are there and are actually a part of the conversation. You can relate to his characters instantaneously. You’ll find yourself laughing and crying with them as the book progresses.

2. His uncanny knack of bringing in humour in the weirdest of situations. His sheer sense of timing is brilliant. He’s probably the only man who can think of the concept of two people belonging to separate states and castes procreating in the name of national integration!!

3. Chetan is also one of the few authors who understand true Indian emotions. He knows what a man thinks when he first sees a woman. He is unapologetic about the concept of sex. He knows the importance of a parantha to a Punjabi household and the value of “The Hindu” newspaper to a Tam Brahm.

4. He tells us stories the way we hear them happening all around us. Not the way they need to be told or the way we should be hearing them. That’s the best part.

5. The most amazing and probably the least acknowledged aspect of Chetan’s writing is his observational skills and how vividly he can articulate what he observes. Trust me, the guy is a brilliant observer.

6. Lastly, you will invariably find one character, who you will crazily relate to and cry for, in the entire book. It could be anyone depending on your life. And then you will remember the book for the rest of your life, for that one character and what he did, and didn’t do in the book. In my case: I’ll remember 2 States for the character of Mr. Malhotra – Krish’s dad.

7. Lastly, I always look for those few pearls of wisdom in the form of impactful one liners that Chetan throws in every now and then as if to garnish his very well cooked Indian Emotional Curry with the soulful spices and flavors.

He is one man we should look out for. He is supremely intelligent. He is also mastering his craft and growing in reputation with each work of his. He is one of those Indians of my generation, who I’d definitely watch out for in times to come because of the sheer power and influence he wields over the young minds of this country.

His achievements are more noteworthy as he has been able to capture the imagination of young India without being a cricketer or a movie star. Probably that should explain why the puritans of publishing & the literati love to hate him so much!!!

Rock On Chetan…

Uncommon Sense - Council Application Forms 2007 - 08

One of the very few advantages of not having frequent changes to one's hard disk is that you stumble upon some gems in your old junk. Something similar happened to me lately. I just laid my hands on to the Letter I wrote to all the leaders of the Rotaract Clubs inviting them to be a part of the ROTARACT DISTRICT COUNCIL during my tenure as the DRR in 2007 - 08.....

This letter adapted the widely acclaimed "Uncommon Sense" concept initiated in print ad campaigns by Marico to what I then felt, was the need of the hour in Rotaract District 3140 - Visionary Leadership....

This brought a smile to my face and took me back in time. Thought it to be virtuous to share it with you'll... Here it goes...

__________________________

________________________________________________________

A man is lying dead in a field….
Next to him is an unopened package….
There is no creature around…
Nor was he poisoned..
How did he die???

Yes, this is a letter to all you leaders. This letter is for you’ll to know that the District is looking at Dynamic Rotaractors to form a DYNAMIC TEAM to lead the District in the Rotaract Year 2007 – 08. Then why the exercise in Lateral thinking? Because we in the team of 07 – 08 consider each task to be one. We, look beyond the obvious. Just like you are trying right now.

We at District 3140 have always looked at Rotaract as something beyond just a hobby. It is a way of life for us. It shows through the passion we have for the movement. And for us to be able to sustain this passion and take it a step further, for us to grow and develop, we need exceptional leaders. We need you!!!

If you share our dream of making this District, the BEST in the world, you would understand the importance of effective leaders. You’d understand the importance of YOU!!!

Imagine the prospect of heading a team of highly enthusiastic Rotaractors from all across the city, executing a project worth lakhs!! Or being so famous that you can boast of having a friend on every station of the rail line!!! Or just the prospect of being honoured & recognised at the District Installation amongst hundreds of co – Rotaractors. It’s this unique high that drives us to perform.

Come, be a part of the esteemed team of the DISTRICT COUNCIL 2007 – 2008!!!

Choose wisely, lest your dreams come crashing to the ground, like the skydiver in the puzzle, whose parachute failed to open!!!

Looking forward to your uncommon sense,



Rtr. Himanshu Kapadia
District Rotaract Representative
2007 – 2008
R.I. District 3140

The Platform Boy

It was fifteenth of May Nineteen Ninety Seven,
I remember that day I turned eleven,
The new day brought with it new courage in me,
All I wanted to do then, was to set myself free.

Free from the world of hatred and lies,
Where everyday someone close to me dies.
My mother awaits her inevitable death,
My father stinks of alcohol in his breath.

Fed up with poverty, misery and fight,
I decided to abandon my fateful plight.
My tears that night subsided with rain,
I boarded the Bombay bound express train.

The next morning saw a new dawn,
I stayed back at the station when everyone was gone.
This was it, I found my heaven,
My new address was platform seven.

I collected plastic bottles from the trains,
And refilled them from the nearby drains
Sold them again when I was in luck,
Or gave it as scrap and made a quick buck.

Life was good with lots of friends,
Equally appalling were their life’s trends.
Rani deceived the pimp and fled from the bar,
Altaf had come to be a Bollywood star.

The cops were the greatest evil; they’d beat us like thrash,
Their bribes had changed, from money to hash.
At times their sins reached an ugly height,
They’d take and “detain” Rani for the night.

Then one day one Didi came,
She curiously asked us all our name.
We thought she was a tourist wanting to preach,
Little did we know she had come to teach.

So sweet was her smile, so nicely she spoke,
Despite our mischief, her resolve never broke.
This was the roll of our lucky dice,
Being treated humanely felt so nice.

She’d teach us from her son’s old books,
She was the only one who didn’t judge us by our looks.
In a few years she changed our life,
Rani became a beautician and Altaf’s wife.


Then one day, I went to her with teary eyes,
I wept away like a baby cries,
And touched her feet as my heart sank
She just queity asked me “Which Rank?”

That day, for the very first time,
I asked why she did all this for us and her answer was divine,

She said,

“I couldn’t bear to see you’ll grow up to be wild,
I decided this, the day I had lost my child
Remember the time you helped carrying a body on your back,
Of a young boy who died crossing the track”

I was amazed at the confidence the lady had,
In a man who’d seen nothing but bad,
I got my result; the IAS exam was done,
I got the rank she deserved, yes it was “One”

“Those who can…. DO…… Those who cannot…. TEACH”

“Those who can…. DO…… Those who cannot…. TEACH”

Yesterday was teacher’s day. I was with a friend and that’s when in pure jest and in order to heighten his attempt at pulling my leg my friend exclaimed the above words.

I am a teacher and a passionate one at that. Yesterday when I got a couple of text messages from of my students wishing me on Teacher’s Day, my friend laughed aloud. He thought this was the heights of being uncool. I was getting Happy Teacher’s Day messages from young ladies……. That too… addressing me as “SIR”….. man …this was enough laugh dope quota to keep him high atleast for quarter of an hour and then at regular intervals of every half an hour!!!

I was the ultimate object of stupification when I met my other friends later in the evening…. And they too greeted me saying… “How are you Professor Kapadia?” and then burst out laughing!!!!

Though I know all of this was purely in good humour and all my friends really respect me for the person I am and for the things I do, somewhere deep down inside, these incidents raised a flurry of questions.

Do we respect teachers for who they are?
Do we really think that they are individuals of high caliber or it’s just that they are who they are, because they can’t be what you think is a much cooler thing to be…?
Is teaching really a respectable profession in this age?
Can teachers ever be role models for us?
Is the profession financially viable to be pursued in today’s times?
Have we started equating the respectability of each profession with the amount of money we make practicing it?”

Aaah…. Too many questions asked. I told myself. I should stop. But then those golden words kept resonating in my mind. “Those who can…. DO…… Those who cannot…. TEACH”. With me it’s often the case that something has to either sweep me off my feet or displease me to death for it to have top of mind recall for a prolonged period. In this case I couldn’t decide whether the line was a mere wisecrack or a deep rooted insult… This resulted in many more questions….

Those who teach….. can’t they really DO?

Why do those who can DO….. Never TEACH?

And then finally, after prodding myself all night, I think I came up with the key to the Holy Grail of teaching and doing….. The answer lies in the nature of these 2 actions…. Doing and Teaching……

I feel one always looks to “DO” for oneself….. but teaching is something one always does for others without expecting astronomical tangible returns from the action.

You DO…. Because it will give you something in return that will make you happy….. You teach because that itself will make you happy!!!!

Now, I can relate better to what’s going on at the IIM & IIT campuses. The fact that IIT & IIM professors were carrying out a hunger strikes on teacher’s day, in my opinion is as big a catastrophe in the history of our country as the partition or the call for emergency by Indira Gandhi.

In fact it’s a bigger blasphemy because the first two already have affected us adversely, this one, if not set right soon by Babus, will devastate the country unfathomably in times to come. Finally after all these years, someone is trying to assert that they can teach as well as DO… Teaching a choice they have made keeping their passion at the peak of cosiderations. Forget being rewarded for exemplary service to the nation. Just give them their due!!!

Off to seek blessings....

It is strange that I’ve been blogging for more than a year and half but I’ve never really shared my daily experiences or my travels at all through my blog. Call it the strike of sudden wisdom or just plain realization, I intend to dynamically update my blog henceforth with everything that matters to me or impacts me in some significant way….

Well, now to start off with, something I’m really excited about…. Yesss… A vacation, holiday, a pilgrimage, a family outing all rolled into one.

Tomorrow I’m off to this place called “Nathdwara” which is about 48 kms away from Udaipur. I’m super excited because I’m going with all uncle, two aunts and two cousins…. Whoa… what a family outing. Anyways…just to give you a background, Nathdwara is a revered destination of worship for the “Vaishnav” sect of the followers of the Hindu religion.

The main attraction of this place is the unique temple of Lord Shrinathji. This is one of the most loved, admired and revered avatars of Lord Krishna. Everyone in my family is a devout believer of Lord Shreenathji. It’s been a part of our upbringing. I’ve been there 4 times before, making this my 5th trip to the place.

I love the hectic daily routine of “Darshans” or worship of the God 8 times a day. It follows a pattern of daily routine of the Lord, right since the time he wakes up (Mangala), to the time he dresses up for the day (Shringar), followed by his outing to graze the cattle (Gwal), then his lunch (Rajbhog), followed by evening darshan post his rest (Utthapan), and then just his prayer just before he retires for the day (Aarti), to the time he heads off to sleep (Shayan).

I’m so looking forward to this 5 day break…. Besides getting lots of blessings from Him will only help my cause!!!! Adios… till I return and post the updates and experiences of my trip….:-)

Confidence... Trust... Hope

This was one of those very few "nice" e mails forwarded to me by one of my friends.

Its simple yet impactful enough to touch the right chords. Definitely deserves to be up here....

CONFIDENCE
Once, all village people decided to pray for rain.
On the day of prayer all people gathered and only one boy
came with an Umbrella,
that's Confidence

***

TRUST
Trust should be like the feeling of a one year old baby
when you throw him in the air,
he laughs......because he knows you will catch him;
that's Trust

***

HOPE
Every night we go to bed,
we have no assurance to get up alive in the next morning
but still you have plans for the coming day ;
that's Hope

***