Those Cradle Days……

It was a cold winter morning; I somehow decided to clean up the mess that had build up in the due course of my stay in my house. As I was cleaning I picked up empty cans, chocolate wrappers, waste papers, old magazines, lots of dead insects and an armada of red ants (God! they can reach anywhere….). As I turned my eyes towards the ceiling, I saw big cob-webs hanging down, with insects hooked up in them and the Spidy was moving from one to another. I haven’t realized until then that I was living in a shithole, I loathe cleaning but the circumstances compelled me to get into my boxers with a broom in my hand. The broom was small (or may be my height is not that much…..) it didn’t reach the ceiling. So, I went out looking for those damn long cob-web cleaners. I went to the store room (behind the garage). God, that place stinks. My mom has this habit of keeping all those old, torn up things in there. She wouldn’t throw a penny (isn’t it the common trait in all the girls and women……pssss). As I was looking for the web cleaner my eyes felt on the cradle, thrown in the corner in a rickety condition. The clothes and the cover had holes in them. It was covered with plethora of dust particles. On the top there was a bar with chimes hanging right in the middle. There used to beads on them, but it was all gone. Some stuffed animals used to hang there. They are no more. I went into flashback. I used to love these stuffed toys, especially the tiger (Lucky Calvin…he never grows up and can still keep Hobbes). Besides the cradle was my Pooh…with one eye missing and cotton hanging out of his stomach.  There used to be many other guys, but all of them were found nowhere. They had all deserted me or was it vice-versa? Whenever I used to cry my Mom used to bring the stuffed bear (I used to call him Boo….) and I would stop crying. In the cradle I would grasp Pooh with my one hand and then I would sleep, rest assured that I was safe ( my thumb would be in my mouth…….Ya, I used to suck my thumb and am not proud of it).

When I started to walk on my tiny legs my Dad brought me a wheelie. I used to enjoy walking a lot. I would hold my wheelie and run all around the house, my mother used to run behind me with the milk bottle in her hand. I hated milk. The wheelie was lying there, dumped on the old sofa, with no wheels.

As time passed by I got a new partner, my middle bro. He had those big rosy cheeks and amber eyes. He was sweet like hell. I used to pull his cheeks or would kiss on them and he would cry in loud cacophony. I was confused, what the hell did I do? But I hated him when he would try to take my stuffed toys. He always wanted only those things with which I was playing. He had this bad habit of snatching things. I don’t know why but I don’t like to share them with him. If he urges too much, I would throw them at him and then a fist followed. He would cry and GAME OVER!!!.....the result, always the same, I lost. Mom would come running and would take him in her arms, and would scold me “ Anshu, you are not a child. You are three years old, be civilized and love your brother. He is your little bro……” I used to wonder what “being civilized” means, anyway who cares.

As days rolled by, the size of my toys grew alongside me (atleast they seemed bigger during those days). My father brought me a cricket bat and a plastic ball. By that time my middle bro was four and my youngest bro was two. Me and my middle brother used to play cricket in the backyard with my youngest brother watching us with those amusing eyes. We used to draw wickets on the walls. I hated balling so I always cheated. I rarely give him a change to bat. God, was I bossy and mean.

Now, I am 24 and my brothers are studying in engineering college. Now, as I looking to those stuffed toys, bat, cradle… I thought how stupid I was back then. I would talk hours with Pooh. I would always keep my bat near my bedside. I hated when someone even touches them. I was very possessive. But along the way I learned the joy of sharing things…..But HEY!!! Don’t even dare to touch my computer or my Ipod……. ;)

Redefining Success

It’s long since I have posted a blog on this page, almost a year. So it needs much endeavor to post a new one. This one is about “SUCCESS”. After watching the movie 3 idiots, which has become the telltale of the country……No, I am not going about to talk about the debate between Chetan Bhagat and the 3 idiots team to which my personal view is that Bhagat has been unfairly treated. What I want to lay emphasis is on the message that the film wants to give. Yes, I know you would be saying “I did get the film. The message was regarding the education system and that it should be excellence oriented not success oriented.”
But just give a thought on the very first scene in movie, in which our “Silencer” shows the picture of his house, his Lamborghini and says that he has succeeded and therefore won the challenge. But how do you say that a person is a successful one?? Is it by the brands of clothes he wears, his bank balance, his salary, the car he owns or by the size of his bungalow. Don’t you think that these things are superficial and are just there to show off? Because nobody is going to see what you are wearing, a Gucci or an Armani, and if situation compels you, you would have to sit beside a person wearing ragged dress (Like many of the handsomely rich business men who board the local trains in Mumbai), and who the hell would be able to see your overprotected bank balance? I know you would say ‘LUXURY, CLASS’ but these are all media created hype just to sell their products. A 1800sqft flat is more than sufficient for two people to live, when millions are spending their night on the pavement without even a blanket. But who the hell cares. We as a human being always try to quantize things and try to generate discrete level-the superclass, the upperclass, middleclass …blah blah blah. To my amazement, there are various index even to measure happiness, and then there are these questions “how much do you love me?” But how on earth can you measure happiness, sorrow, love, hatred? Some things are there which can’t be measured……..and there are places where Darwin fails. So it is not always about the survival of the fittest. In our quest to survive we are forgetting that we are human first.
I remember a story which all of us have read in Gulmohar English book( I forgot the class though….. )
“there was a king who has lost his kingdom in a war and was spending his days in a cave on the outskirts of the town. One night as he was about to sleep, he heard passerby. He woke up to see that there were three women. He bowed down to them and asked their name. The first one said “I am goddess of wisdom” .The second one said “I am goddess of Power” The third one said “I am goddess of wealth.” The king pleaded “O!! Goddesses where are you all going please stay in my kingdom. else I would be ruined.”The Goddesses pitied him and said that only one of them can stay, to which the king replied “If that is the case then I want Goddess of wisdom to stay in my kingdom.” The Goddess of wisdom agreed to stay and she went inside the cave. The other two also followed her. The king was amazed and asked “ but you told me that only one of you can stay” to which the Goddess of power replied “ Where there is wisdom there is power.” Goddess of wealth said “ and where there is wisdom and power there is wealth, so we all are staying here in your kingdom.” So what matter is wisdom not power, not wealth as these things would follow.
Now I am answering my own question “How do you say that a person is successful one?”
When you become the centre of your own sphere and everything starts circling about you then you say that I am successful. And when you are happy doing what you do the best and your efforts start to pay dividend then you are successful. A mother breastfeeding a child and taking good care of family is as successful as a man running a huge industry. He might be richer, but he may not be successful…..

PS: Do say about what you think, your comments are more than welcome.