The Drive.....

It was just another day going to work or was I mistaken?

A monday morning all ready to start the week, the car engine roared and I took a deep breath to focus my attention to the week ahead. As I reversed from the garage I could faintly remember the beautiful weekend that just passed by and how I wished it were a day or two longer.

The traffic was at its peak and was at snail's pace. As I waited at the signal I saw the beggars making their rounds at each car. A woman was carrying a child, not more than 2 years, on her waist and walking from car to car begging for money. She was using the child as a tool to persuade the occupants in the car to give her money.

I looked and wandered about the child and what would be his/her plight in all of this. He would be groomed to be a thief or a beggar when he would grow up. His life was meant to be doomed from the time he/she took his/her first breath of air and started to cry. The cry would have been of pain rather than of happiness to be welcomed into the world of misery.

I sat back and thought of the children who I had met, children of my cousins, friends, acquaintances. All those children would have had been born in the same manner as the child on the street but their destiny would have definitely been different to the child in front of me. The love, care and tenderness their parents bestowed on them would be only a dream for this little one.

If fate had played its cards right, this child could have been an asset to society. He/she could have been a writer, an actor, an engineer, a doctor or any other professional but because of the bad parenting he/she was to be in the life of misery with the goons of society.

The drive didnt last long as the thought of the child kept playing in my head and made me wonder. What could I have done to make this a better place for the children of tomorrow? How could we as the elders of today work to make the city a better place for all to live in?

If we all were to make our cities, towns and villages a safe haven for children that would be a start to ensuring our children would not have to bear the same brunt or anguish that we as children may have had to endure.

The drive to make this world a better place needs to begin and start at home. Else there would never be a home left for the future generations.

The Train Journey

It was a journey like no other. I anticipated the endurance of the journey with the stories recited the night before by my cousins and they never gave an opportunity for me to feel any better.

It was going to be the first day I traveled by the local trains in Bombay and I was petrified with what they had told me. I was only 13 years and was travelling with my father. He was to go from Andheri to Churchgate for official work and I had brilliantly insisted on accompanying him. The relations that I had revered; were questioned when they told me of the nasty travel experiences they had and how the train is a place for rogues and ruffians. How they push people around and do not care of the passenger next to them.

My cousins took the chance to scare the jeepers out of me as we did not reside in India then. We would come only for a brief period of time and were here on the holidays when the schools would close for Christmas. The sinister nature of their prank had me want to back out of the journey but for some unknown reason, I pursued it with a knot in my throat.

My father had anticipated the fear I would have with the maiden voyage in the trains of Bombay. We were travelling in the rush hour at 930 am and he bought first class tickets to avoid the hassles I would face in the second class compartment ( I was a pampered brat back then).

We did not take much time at the queue as there was a separate line for the first class ticket. We were in and out of the ticket counter in about 5-6 minutes. My dad then ushered me onto the platform and we waited for the train to arrive which again did not take long as it was the peak period and there were trains coming into the platform every 6-8 minutes.

I remember we didnt board the first train as I was frozen to the ground when I saw the flood of people getting out of and in to the train. It was as though there was a riot behind the people who wanted to get out and of the people who wanted to go in. In the fight to get to their destinations, we remained stranded outside the train and my father had second thoughts on my boarding the train. As the train started to pull away from the platform, I saw people hanging out of the train and shouting at the people to move inside. I didnt think of it much, except to the extent that if I would have been able to hang out with people pushing me.

I told my father that I was not going to board the train and that he better leave without me. I would be safer to catch a rickshaw home and stay there. He motivated me to board the next train and told me to be in front of him so that he could push me inside. Not sure of the logic but his words gave me strength (for the time being) and I agreed to him.

The train arrived and my time of reckoning was in place. I stood strong and with the guidance of my father I made my way inside the first class compartment. As he carried and pushed me, he was pushed by someone else. I was pushed by atleast a dozen men whose bellies were crushing my face. I was jammed like sardines in a can and there was no place for me to move. I was jammed in between two, three, four, ten, twenty individuals who had an extra belly. The people were shouting and asking to move in. It was a ruckus of sorts.

My father asked me if I was doing well; I would have liked to give him a piece of my mind then. But I gave him a grunt and made a face of sadness and pity. I couldn't breathe with my face between the freddy bellies. It was unbelievable to know that people would have to travel like this everyday. I was in a place being crushed by the bellies and wanted to burst all the bellies next to me or use a towel to cover my face from the sweat and grime that was dripping all around. It was a journey that lasted me a lifetime.

It took about a few stations to pass after which the crowd started to dwindle down and I could catch a breath of hope and life. I signaled to my father that this was not the journey that I had in mind or what was told to me. It was worse than expected. I went on to curse the people for behaving badly and pushing everyone around, while we were still on the train and trying to understand why these people behave the way they do.

My father was silent at all my questions and sarcasms. He silently nodded to me and said, "This is the life in Bombay (now called Mumbai)". I was astounded from what we were used to living and the world of torture on the trains of Bombay.

12 years on, we came to settle down in Mumbai and it turned from a vacation home to our permanent home. Travelling by train is now a routine for me and I now have to listen to my friends who come to Mumbai of how horrible the trains are and how they cannot get into a train without having to push, slide, rub, caress, or shout at a person. And I reply to them, "This is the life of Mumbai."

Kiss with a Smile

I think every individual on this planet believes in Love. They may not believe in god or the government but love is one hidden power that crumbles the hardest of hearts and brightens the darkest of days.

The puppy love, the crush, the yearning of the touch for the person you are in love with. It is a magical feeling when it starts. Smiles are but a natural being because there is a lot of happenings in the inside. The late night talks just doesnt matter to the hours of sleep lost. The mobile bills just doesnt matter to the long talks. The walk in the park, beach or pavement is a walk in a garden.

Love has a funny way to make things seem more beautiful than what it was meant to be. And we all have had our share of that puppy love and the real love too. It can kill all the negativity that exists in one's mind and bring out the best in their performance and outlook to life. The smile it brings to each person is imaculate and beautiful to all its beings.

But have you ever stopped to think... No one can kiss with a smile. When you kiss, you loose your smile!

A kiss is the passion shared between two lovers. It doesnt matter who the lover is, the kiss is the most personal touch that two friends share that begins their journey into the depths of their emotions and to a life together(Hopefully!!) as lovers or couple.

When the start is without a smile, what ensures that the  journey will be with smiles forever. There is but a strong signal to suggest that the journey of life will be with hurdles and no smiles. It doesnt mean you dont have to enjoy the journey or that your partner is not right for you. It means you have to work to make it better.

Like a kiss, sometimes you have to make the first move and close your eyes. Touch, feel and let the magic happen. It is not without effort that a marriage or a relationship will build itself to the years of happiness in photographs. A lot of work and effort goes into it. 

Do you know that when you kiss, you loose around 7-9 calories a minute which glorifies the number to about 400-500 calories an hour. You loose weight in sharing time with your loved one. What better form of exercise can anyone suggest?

But like the calories lost, the relationship is building with every kiss that you share with your loved one. There is going to be effort and the effort starts with a kiss.