THE WAIT

"I'll be back with lots of yums
Be a good boy
Don't play in the mud and I don't wanna see your paw prints on the floor
Scare the crowd but be careful
And don't eat if any random person offers you anything

Be the responsible member of this house."

He patted the head and left with his bike .

Unfortunately never returned

An accident ate him and his presence

But the dog is still waiting for him to return
With the yums,
It's waiting to be called as good boy,
It's waiting to wag it's tail for him ,
It's waiting for his love.
Unaware of the fact that he will never return !

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Blank voice #2

The place they will never forget

She saw him

She met him

They became friends

They fell in love

Destiny planned something else

Their tears kissed the soil

A last hug

Their ways separated

She still visits in search of him

He still waits her to come back

The same place but different time

But they never collided again.

The place mourned silently!

#blank_voice

Blank voice #1

He was her world

She kept praying for him

She knitted so many beautiful dreams

He found someone else

She knew that her  efforts will be in veins

His world is someone else

She still thinks why it couldn't be her.

But at least he is happy

That's what she wished from the very  beginning

His happiness!!

#blank_voice 

THE SOUND EFFECTS

what is the most irritating thing in a show or daily soap ?

mellow drama ?

too much make up ? 

dragged story ?

+1000000000 episodes ?

 or the old lady who is still in the show with her next 10 generation? 

No...

its the creepy sound effects !!

yeah.. 

after every dialogue, every expression, every second they will play an irrelevant  or intolerable or an exhausted sound effects.

so irritating ..

just think you are watching this one show where the hero asks heroine..

where are my shoes ?

and an idiotic bg music plays... 

*rabba veeeeee....eeeee..... rabbaaaa veee.... oooooo ... rabbbbaaaaa...veeeeee....*

what the hell !!???

ignore .. bhai ignore.. happens.

next scene , 

hero is on the way to meet his girlfriend !

and what about the sound effect ?

*jai kaali , jai kaali, jai maa kaali!!*

kya he ?? 

date pe jaa raha he ? ya bali chadaane ?

you know what , lets focus on something else,,

ohh some risthey awards !

this one person who calls himself as the host.. asking the crowd

 ''are you guys ready ..''

and a huge response... 

''yeeeeaaaahhhhhh!''

wait a second.. haven't  i heard that before .

yeah.. it is that one huge response which is played in almost every award show. the recorded one.

why ? why are you insulting the real crowd which shouted with all their life !!

lets see something else.

what about the comedy show .. yeah .. that's a good idea.

this one, show has so many characters in it,

a panjabi guy came,

*ohh balle balle balle balle*

he waved at a  tamilian 

*ayyaaayyaaaa*

and his wife came, 

*aahhhhaaaaa*

and a gujarati enterd,

*arararrararararararraaaaaa*

and a fat guy joined them

*trumpet of elephants*

enoughhhhhh!!  or kitna racist banoge ?

  itne saare sound effects ? 

calm down zuko , calm down!!

so much passion towards sound effects ?? even in the horror movie ?

they use some stupidest sounds in the pathetic scene and that horrible scene turns into a comedy skit.

a ghost comes with a bg music, 

lalla lalla lori... doodh ki katori...

kya he ? kya he ye ?

and even by mistake don't stop at a scene where someone slaps the other one,

i mean they will repeat the one slap sound into thousand times , zooming on everyone's face who are present there.

you know what , the makers may think that bg music makes the scene cool,

yeah for some extent the relevant one may enhance the beauty of the scene 

but not all the irrelevant ones.

and that's my opinion 

wait, some goons are beating the hero .. with the bg music.

*ohh jaanaaaaa..... aaa... khoya khoya rethaa he..* 

Gate notes - Bill Gates review

Bill Gates review on WHEN BREATH BECOMES AIR 

A Life Of Meaning

THIS BOOK LEFT ME IN TEARS 

 By BILL GATES--

All lives have equal value. But some deaths seem particularly cruel.

When Paul Kalanithi was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2013, he was a 36-year-old on the verge of making big contributions to the world with his mind and hands.

He was a gifted doctor—a chief resident in neurosurgery at Stanford just months away from completing the most grueling training of any clinical field.

He was also a brilliant scientist. His postdoctoral research on gene therapy won him his field’s highest research award.

As if that wasn’t enough, he was also a great writer. 

Before attending medical school, he earned two degrees in English literature from Stanford and gave serious consideration to pursuing writing as a full-time career.

What a talent. What a loss.

I know about Kalanithi’s story because he told it himself in the posthumous When Breath Becomes Air.

It’s an amazing book. I was super touched by it, as was Melinda and our daughter Jennifer. In fact, I can say this is the best nonfiction story I’ve read in a long time.

Thanks to this book, the reader gets to know well and like Kalanithi a lot. 

He brings you not just into his journey as a doctor and then as a patient but also into his role as a husband, which was sorely strained at times by the rigors of his and his wife’s clinical residencies.

My emotional investment got particularly strong after Kalanithi and his wife, Lucy, decide to have a child despite (or maybe even because of) Kalanithi’s diagnosis.

Kalanithi was there for the delivery, but he was so weak and chilled from chemotherapy that he wasn’t able to put his newborn daughter against his skin.

 Eight months later, Kalanithi died a few hundred yards away from where his daughter entered the world.

I’m usually not one for tear-jerkers about death and dying—I didn’t love The Last Lecture or Tuesdays with Morrie.

But this book definitely earned my admiration—and tears.

I don’t know how anyone could read Lucy’s epilogue, in particular, without choking up.

 “I visit his grave often, taking a small bottle of Madeira, the wine of our honeymoon destination,” she writes.

“Each time, I pour some out on the grass for Paul … and rub the grass as if it were Paul’s hair. Cady visits his grave before her nap, lying on a blanket … grabbing at the flowers we’ve laid down.”

But don’t be put off by the sadness of it all. I should emphasize the other things that drew me to this book.

For one thing, I thoroughly enjoyed Kalanithi’s stories about his surgical training.

 I’ve always admired doctors.

 They have to make impossibly hard decisions, and so much of their work has life-and-death implications. Kalanithi illustrates these high stakes well, without sounding like he has a God complex.

One story that will stick with every parent who reads this book involves a young patient with a brain tumor. “The difference between tragedy and triumph was defined by one or two millimeters.

 One day, Matthew, … who had charmed the ward a few years back, was readmitted. His hypothalamus had … been slightly damaged during the operation to remove his tumor; the adorable eight-year-old was now a twelve-year-old monster.”

I was also drawn in by Kalanithi’s eloquent writing. I look up to all doctors, but the ones I’m impressed with most are the ones who are not just gifted healers but also writers.

It’s always a shock to me when I find one, but by now it shouldn’t be. Kalanithi is part of a fraternity of amazing writer doctors, including Abraham Verghese (who wrote the foreword to Paul’s book), Siddhartha Mukherjee, and Atul Gawande.

Perhaps I should consult a neuroscientist to figure out whether these seemingly disparate talents are somehow linked in the brain.

I am certain I will read When Breath Becomes Air again.

This short book has so many layers of meaning and so many interesting juxtapositions—life and death, patient and doctor, son and father, work and family, faith and reason—I know I’ll pick up more insights the second time around.

I don’t know how Kalanithi found the physical strength to write this book while he was so debilitated by the disease and then potent chemotherapy.

 But I’m so glad he did. He spent his whole brief life searching for meaning in one way or another—through books, writing, medicine, surgery, and science. I’m grateful that, by reading this book, I got to witness a small part of that journey.

I just wish the journey hadn’t been cut so short.

Live the PASSION

#2

MONKEYS DON'T SPEAK HINDI

Aaah, summer - that long anticipated stretch of lazy, lingering days, free of responsibility and rife with possibility. It's a time to hunt for insects, master handstands, practice swimming strokes, conquer trees, explore nooks and crannies, and make new friends.     

Summer means happy times and good sunshine. It means going to the beach, going to Disneyland, having fun.      

zen was really reading it loud 

"what makes the internet to interpret summer is beautiful. i mean just look at us, bunch of idiots with watermelon on face.'' he sighed.

''but bro, summer is not that bad, we all get a chance to meet and greet only during summer holidays,'' 

sammy was up to explain and jaanu interrupted him,

''yeah, like hum milenge, goa jayenge, ice cream khayenge, maze karenge... is all just a dream. in reality, we are all here in this no network area. i cant even access my social networks here''

''but jaanu, its our granny's home, and this place is not that bad, just look how cool and calm it is. in fact its a better place to enjoy the summer''   i tried to convey my point.

''ohh nature lover, ye haseen vaadiya.. khulaa asamaan sab ek do din ke liye achche lagte he.. after that we will get bored here.'' zen was back to the conversation.

we all took a sigh and continued eating watermelon.

this time cousins were with granny during summer vacation. after having three full watermelons buddies just laid like lazy cats .

it was time for a lazy nap , slowly our eyes were closing. 

''dhandhandhandhandhan, POOM, THWIFF, Crackle, Shhhhooo and boom''

''bomb bomb bomb'' we all got up and screamed for the sudden noise. 

for a second , nobody understood what was happening there.

''hwaay.. kodaa bandade, horag beelbedi'' gopu informed us.

''ohh okk'' zen sighed 

''ohh.. kodaa.. haa ok ''  i looked at zen .

''kodaa ?" sammy and jaanu were confused.

''haa kodaa.... means...'' i was up to explain and zen interrupted.

''you don't know kodaa ? its really pathetic animal. people are hell scared of it. its a rare species you know. '' he winked at me.

''haa haa... really dangerous one. that's why workers were burning crackers to scare it. otherwise it would have harmed them.''  i accompanied him.

''but you dont get scared haa.. we are here with you '' zen continued to fool them.

''no..nooo... we..we..we..aren't afraid.. mumbai me isse bhi bade jaanvar dekhe he..'' sammy was shivering. 

''haaa.. we even saw gaint reptiles.. this kodaa is nothing in front of them.'' jaanu said with a fearful voice.

 both were pretending like they weren't scared. but their voice and face was clearly expressing the fear.

''camera'' i shouted ''hey, lets go and get some pictures of KODAA no.. i haven't done photography from last few days..'' 

''yeah.. that's great idea. i'll get the camera'', zen rushed to the room.

''are you shh shhu sure aabout it ?'' sammy was nervous.

''kyu ? dar gaye kya ?'' i teased them.

''no.. kon dara ?" chalo bhayya.. we will click pics of KODAA better than these two.'' jaanu supported him.

''arrre.... abhi tak yahi ho... lets go..'' zen ran with the camera.

''abey.. camera  sambhal ke'' i ran behind him.

''humhe chod ke mat jaaoo.. hum bhi aa rahe '' sammy and jaanu joined us.

we went to the farm. it was full of coconut and arecanut trees. and some cashew , banana, almond ,starfruit trees. i love this place. different shades of green.

''there...'' zen screamed. 

''mummy''... jaanu held my hand tightly. and sammy was curious.

''shhhh... slowly... ye le camera pakad.''  zen handed me the camera.. and i tried to focus..

''dhyaan se dekho.. vaha.. '' zen pointed at the banana tree...  sammy and jaanu looked with all curiosity and fear.

and..

and..
''abey.. yeh to bandar he " they both shouted.

yeah... KODAA means monkey.. and these Mumbai ke kids didn't knew that..

I clicked few pics of monkeys in the mean time.

zen started laughing like idiot and i joined him.

we both hi-fived and started to tease jaanu and sammy

''bhayyaa.. di...'' they both very aggressively embarrassed .

they took a stick and chased us. we started to run like bulls here and there. 

and.............. oh snap.... monkeys caught us.

i think they found our game interesting. so they also joined us. 

now the plot was on fire.. everyone was screaming and running like excited ions. and i was taking pics of the drama. zen tried to scare the monkeys.. but failed.

 jaanu got really scared and  started crying.. ''please leave me. mere bohat sapne he.. plaese kuch mat karna.. mummy daddy....  udhar  bhayya..didi..he unhe pakdo.. jaavo...''

''paagal .. why are you talking  like that with monkeys ?'' zen shouted

''exactly .. these monkeys  don't speak hindi jaanu.'' sammy screamed

me and zen looked at him like ''what???.. tu pagal he? your sister is in danger and you are cracking joke ?''

''ha jaanu.. kannada try kar "  zen laughed and i didn't missed a moment .. everything was getting captured in my camera.

and for a better picture i turned on the flash... 

greatest mistake... it attracted a monkey and now it was behind me..

''bhaaagooooo" i screamed and ran, zen scared the monkeys. sammy and jaanu helped zen.

i hid behind a cashew tree..

i was breating really fast and checked the camera in afraid if an damage.

but thank god.. it was alright. 

''jaana jaye par camera ko kuch na ho" i was relaxing and someone patted me..

"mummy.. mummy...'' i screeched.

''sshhhh.....idiot.. its us" buddies calmed me .

''guys.. i thought its monkeys..thank god'' i yelped again.

''kisi ko kuch hua to nahi naa?'' everyone checked .

 ''no we are alright.'' nobody was harmed.

 ''but ,yaha se kaise nikle ?'' sammy came up with the million dollar question.

''haa guys.. kya kare ab?'' i was worried.

''you dont talk to us, photography ki shok he na tujhe.. now see'' jaanu yelled. 

''achcha ? who satarted screaming and attracted the monkeys?'' i bragged. 

''guys.. dont fight.. we all are equally  responsible for this..just think of any idea" zen was trying to mange the situation.

''aah.. bhayya....'' sammy pointed something with a shaking hand.

oh no.. monkeys caught us.

we were literally like ''achcha chalta hoon.. duao me yaad rakhna''.. we were praying to god to save us. 

then...

''POOM, THWIFF, Crackle, Shhhhoooo, dhandhandhandhandhan. boom"

workers came back with the crackers and drums making loud noise. it scared the monkeys and they ran as quickly as possible. it was  our pathetic scream which made the workers to came back to the farm.

''thank god ,thank you kaka..gopu''

''hwaay.. helidde ala barbedi anta. mattentakke bandaddu neevu.. enadru hechchu kammi agidre yaaaru jabaadari?'' gopu was bit angry.

''sorry.. photo..kodaa.." we tried to explain.

''sari.. sari.. nadeeri manige'' they sent us to home. 

i turned back and took one more pic. 

''abey... chal naa'' zen dragged me.

it was already evening. we all were hell tiered. as soon as we reached the home we fell on the floor like ripened mangoes.

----------------------------------------------

granny heard the whole story by gopu and zen. she was worried and scolded us not to do such mischief again. we convinced her and left. 

we were in gallery , looking at the clear sky. i was checking the camera and zen was laughing at the pictures.

''sorry guys.. my photography craze put all of us in danger. i' m sorry'' i broke the silence.

''actually....'' jaanu tried to tell something. ''it was amazing. i never thought to have such an amazing experience. kon kehta he summer ka majaa goa me he.. this was not less than any angkor wat guys.and we have such cool pics to upload.''

''yeah that's true.. plus one ,adventurous day it was, all thanks to your camera '' sammy accompanied.

''thanks to kodaa... but we were in great danger guys...'' i sighed

''chalta he.. at least we came to know that nobody is tees maar khaan.. and we can make a picture album... KODAs v/s KODAs'' zen giggled.

''but, monkeys don't speak hindi..'' i said quietly 

we all looked at each other and laughed till our stomach hurt.

BEYOND THE PLATE

#1

RAIN, UMBRELLA and KATCHI DABELI.

"Aaaannnnnn,  you totally ruined my umbrella ..

I'm never gonna talk to you again 

You knew that , it was my favourite umbrella.

How could you ??"

Reema was crying and kinda upset cuz I took her umbrella got stuck in heavy rain. And as usual I wasn't able to handle the umbrella and it broke.

"Sorry reema. It was really a tornado. I haven't done it intentionally. Forgive me !!"      

I Tried to convince her with all my efforts.. 

But she was more upset than the Popatlal of Tarak mehta ka oolta chashma. 

"Please go.. Don't talk to me"

She fiercely said and shut the doar.

"Ohho.. Ye kya hua ??" I murmured.

I was been to my cousin reema's home at Mumbai . and for some reason I went outside. As it was cloudy I took her umbrella with all her permission.

But .. Mumbai kaa barish !! Boss... I was totally struck in the rain and that heavy breez broke the umbrella.. 

But 

"Umbrella ke liye kon rota he yar...? " 

I felt really bad for Reema. People get attached to some of their belongings .its quite common.

I decided to purchase a similar umbrella and I asked her to tell me about any shops nearby..

But no.

Madam was really upset. Even her insta story was upset with a broken crying umbrella.

I just came outside and opened google.stated typing...

"Hey."

Someone waved at me.

"Do I know them ?? Do they know me ?? "So many questions ran in my mind..

"Taayi.. Mi shruti.. Reemacha friend "

"Ohh.. Hi..I'm sorry I just .."

"Its OK taayi.. "

She was shruti. Reema's friend .and neighbor. it was quite difficult to recognise her as she has gone through a makeover.

"Yeah Mumbai he meri jaan" I murmured. 

"What happened tayi ? Reema looks upset and where are you going in this rain.?"

"Nothing shruti."

"Ohho taayi.. You can tell me" she guaranteed.

Then I told her everything..

She laughed funnily. 

"Taayi.. This reema , to ek lahan mula ahe. Apan kalaji karu naka. Mi tumchi madat kareen."

She was offering help. But I felt uncomfortable to bother her. But there was no other option.

"No..its OK.." I tried to refuse nicely.

"Taayi. He mumabi ahe. And I'm also free .. Please I insist ..."

Without any other option I agreed.

She informed to both the families and we left in search of umbrella.

It was quite easy to find a similar one. I was happy that finally I got it.

"Taayi ..or kuch shopping ?" She asked

"Not now shruti. Also its raining ."

"Its OK taayi.. Some other day we will shop like robbers " she laughed.

And her phrases made me laugh.

The rain was pretty much and it was cold too.

"Taayi... Kuch khaye kya ? " shruti asked in the middle road .

"Yeah sure. " 

She turned her scooty to the left and stopped at a restaurant.

"LITTLE BITE DABELI ",   impressive.

" taayi . why are you staring like that ?"

"No ..nothing..but what's this place ?"

"You donno? Really ?? Its a famous adda for DABELI" , she replied with all enthu 

"DABELI ? What's that ?"

Actually I heard that word for the first time and my reactions were similar to Mr bean .

"Aaaah ?? Don't tell me that you don't know DABELI !! ". She was shocked it seems.

" I'm sorry. But I haven't heard about it ."

"Ohho tayi .you have missed so much happiness in your life. come let's go inside.

Aaj to me aapko dabeli ki fan banake hi rahungi"

She literally dragged me to the restaurant.

We took a comfy seat and she orderd 

"2 KATCHI DABELI "

"katchi ?? " I looked at her with all question mark on my face .

"Wait taayi ..."

In few minutes .. Garma garam dabeli was on our table.

Looked much similar to a desi burger . but having an  amazing texture. 

My mouth was watering .

"Tooot pado tayi "

She already had half of dabeli in her mouth..

But as I was eating it for first time.. I started research on it.. I slowly opened it and gone through the ingredients.

Basically a potato filling inside a bun. And its ingredients were clearly showing that it will be tangy and spicy.

More specifically the Indian bun.. Or PAV drizzled with the spicy and sweet chutney and some grapes..onions..pomegranates and sev. Potato filling inside. 

It tasted really good. As I was trying it for first time ..I wasn't disappointed. Infact it could be better substitute for lunch. 

I was lost in my thoughts.

"Tayi.."

"Tayi..". Shruti patted me

"Kase ahe ?"

She asked how's it ... With those enthu eyes.

"Waaahw shruti. Its really nice. I would definitely like to have it again."

I said genuinely.

"I knew it..."  She said happily 

And she started to praise the dabeli and other street foods of Mumbai.

She's right. Mumbai's street foods are sent straight from heaven. And DABELI also impressed me. 

The place had good service, hygiene and the dabeli was fingerlicking delicious.

We left the restaurant happily .and on the way I told her that I would like to know the recipe.

"Arree..then come our flat. My aayi prepares mast dabeli . she will tell you " shruti  offered and I tried to refuse.

"Taayi..please.. Aao na"

She requested.. 

"OK baaba ..I'll come. And thank you for helping me...."

"Thanks sab rehne do.. Chalo..."

She dragged me to her flat. And called her mom.

"Aayi.. Reema's cousin is here."

"Hello aunty . how are you ?"

I greeted her and I was little nervous.

"Arree ..aao beta.. Baitho." She treated me nicely.

After some formal talks and chitchats shruti told her mom to teach me to prepare dabeli 

She agreed with a happy face 

My good luck.

"Chalo beta.. "

I felt comfortable with her as she was really nice. 

We went to kitchen and some more chit chats about my family and career..

Environment was quite comfortable.

She listed the ingredients quickly..

"Pav.. Potato ..sev.grapes. Pomegranate. Onion.coriander.. Peanuts.. Garlic chutney... Dabeli masala..tamarind chutney and some spices to make dabeli filling ."

"Dabeli masala is fine powder  of dry red chilly ..coriander powder.. Clove cinnamon and cumin seeds ."

She explained in detail 

"And garlic chutney is a smooth paste of soaked red chilly, garlics , lemon juice and salt."

To make dabeli's potato filling ,

In a pan oil is heated, cumin seeds and onions are added, when onions become soft some asafoetida/hing is added . in a low flame these all are fried and tamarind date chutney is added and stirred well.

Some boiled and mashed potatoes are added to this mixture with a constant stir dabeli masala and salt is added .

It is mixed well . 

Once when it's done. Spread the filling on plated . top it with coriander, grated coconut, grapes and pomegranate.

Roast the pav with butter , and now its assemble time .

Take pav slicles , coat with sweet chutney on one side and garlic chutney on other.

Take a slice of potato filling and put it on a slice of pav 

Now top some onion, coriander, roasted peanuts, pomegranate, grapes, sprinkle well dabeli masala .

And lastly top it with sev.

Cover it with another slice of pav.

And garnish with some pomegranates onion grapes and sev .

Our katchi dabeli is ready to eat "

For few minutes I felt like I'm a part of a Cooking show. 

She was really good at explaining. 

After the practical session she handed me a dabeli and me , being a foodie ate like never ate anything since birth.

It was tastier and little different than the restaurant one. 

My vote goes to homemade dishes as usual.

I thanked shruti and her mom. They handed me the dabba full of dabeli.

We had few more chit chats and suddenly..

"Reema.   Umbrella.."  Flashed in my head.

I thanked them again and rushed to reema . with umbrella in one hand and dabba in another.

She was still mad at me. 

I knocked the door.

No answer

"Sorry year . open the door."

I knocked again

After few minutes reema opened the door with a chubby angry face .

I was standing with the open umbrella and dabba in my hand.

She looked at me surprisingly .

"Sorry yar.. Maaf kardo.. Dekh me tereliye kya laayi hu"

I convinced her.

She took the umbrella and smiled ..

"sorry yaar .. Kuch jyada hi chillaya Maine " she said with a low tone.

"Leave it... Kuch nahi hota

See , I have something for you". I said and gave her the box.

" what's this ?" She  opened with curiosity

And found 

"DABELIIIIIII"

"Ohh , thank you.. I was so hungry you know ??"

She had a large bite and said something like

"gfaykm csupkbcsaw riplncawupln"

I didn't understood a word . but was happy to see her smiley face. 

We both sat on couch .

 she enjoyed dabeli and I tried to note the recipe.

"Kya kar rahi?"

"Kuch nahi"

We both smiled and enjoyed the rain.

I really had a wonderful experience. 

Thanks to Mumbai rain, Reema's umbrella, shruti and her mom and of course KATCHI DABELI !