The faded past.

May be I am getting too attached to my home town Hyderabad (can there be a 'too attached' in connection to your home??) or maybe it's just that I feel sad to see the lost legacy of the once Princely State of the Nizams. A couple of days ago I was pouring over a book of photographs taken by Raja Deen Dayal. He was one of the most famous photographers or maybe even one of the only Indian photographers of that age and era. The photography shop that was run by him was called 'Dayal & Sons' and at the zenith of his profession he had two shops one in Secunderabad and if I recall rightly the other had been in Bombay.
So he has photographed the royal gatherings, being a member of the Nizam's court and the palaces and the various structures and the public places etc. Even the famous flood many years back when the river Musi had flooded over the Afzal Ganj bridge has been recorded. The point that I trying to make is I was so very impressed by the photographs and their subjects too.
You could see the way people used to dress , the Indian men in their sherwanis and the jewels according to their station ,their women in beautiful skirts and the dupattas and the finery to match or delicate sarees while the English were clothed in finely pressed uniforms and stately hats and women gowned in voluminous skirts and lace. The interiors of the palace- every single item worth looking at and admiring kept in flawless order and beauty. It was on one hand wonderful and on the other hand sad to see the palaces and the diwan-devdi's. Oh the streets that were and the motor cars!! I could not help but drool over the motor car that the Nizam was photographed standing in and watching a polo match. It had these beautiful rounded protruding headlamps and luxurious leather upholstery and the shiny black colour of it .... of cource in pristine condition.
The wide cobbled streets and the small buses , more like trams in fact and the guards standing at various places. It was an enlightening picturesque experience. How much better it would have been to see all that in person?
Sadly all the that is forever lost because we could not save any of that from being destroyed. We let it fall prey to neglect and and forever loose them. We love to hear about our past, by history I don't just mean a country's story , even our personal family tales and traditions are all lost and remain as stories to be told remincing about bygones.
I wonder why we cannot preserve our history or maybe it's just a natural cource of nature for things and people to keep evolving , keep building one thing over the other, keep giving shape to new ideas and styles in all ages. Today we are making history for the next generation.....

Think Again.

The pen is mightier than the sword.....if the sword is very short, and the pen is very sharp.

-Terry Pratchett

Dimaag ki batti...

A big hello to all the readers of my blog.

As you  see I am still not past the mental clog

Of writing things in a tiring rhyme

Trying to make words and phrases chime

Its the bug that's bitten me quite hard

Never from the path of rhythm, to part

Its an odd affliction if you may please

And it wont go even if you do tease

So once again as I pick up my virtual pen

To entertain you ladies and gentlemen

The spew of words comes out with feet

Tied up in symetry to look so neat

In case you are wondering as to the point

Of this poem I write -quite disjoint

I truly agree and say you shall find none

For it was only to kill time and have some fun

If you still want to read what I have to say

I am afraid today is definetly not the day

For the mood is to spin out a tale

Which has neither rudder not sail

So enjoy the aimless sermon that I dish

And for the return of sense , do wish!

Sad images..

Wake up! Vote! Be counted!
The gay banners scream
Use your right and elect
The country’s sour cream
The flags on the cars,
The flyers clutched in the fist
The caps that sit on heads
But a part of the endless list
Of how your money
Is being washed down the drain
Of the ways they will use
To abuse and confuse your brain
They promise the earth and the stars
If nothing else at the very least
A trip to the moon and back
From the taxes a complimentary feast
They say use your democratic right
Its responsibility and solidarity, see
To collectively choose who sits where
Which greedy hand will hold which key
Its really a choice of which kind
Of troubles and lawlessness that you can
Grin and bear for another 5 years
Which set of people enact a sham.
Yet on a uplifting note I add
Winds of change are being felt
The jaded and tarnished images
Of heartless monsters may just melt.

Over done.

I happened to catch the movie ‘Outsourced’ a couple of weeks back.
What crap!
I assumed the movie would be one of those easy-watch ones where they show you an ideal idea about how people find their true calling or see past their own egos and find their soul mate all at one time. You know those kinds don’t you?
I was put off -actually not just put off, quite angry at what they still perceive India to be. For those of you who don’t have an idea of what I am talking about, the movie tries to present a picture of lousy India which an American concedes and grudgingly accepts because he finds himself unable to do anything else about it.
I felt in this day and age when the west is all ga-ga about our Indian sciences and our holy men and our yoga and our brains and let’s not forget our music, its time the director woke up and realized there is so much more to show about us than showing half dressed urchins and fat aunties who ask about your marital status or over eager rural turned urbanites who ask your’ good name’.
The notion was so absurd that all India is about is its poverty, backward traditions and outdated idea. Wake up people!!
They show a call centre employee who flirts with every female caller he has. And another female with double standards for morality. Does that happen in India? It very likely does. Does that happen only in India? Definitely not.

Next time you want to make a movie on India, do your research well. Or maybe visit this country and see for yourself. That beside the slums world class malls have come up, that even behenjis here can speak English better than you, that for a nation of a billion plus people we are still pretty open hearted to welcome you in our midst.

On Hyderabad

The topic of discussion had been the various cities around the world and their allure.This was a poem I had written in defence of my home town Hyderabad.

City Loved...

To see the world from your chair
Was certainly an idea to share
To hear and feel what she has to say
And globe trot without a dime to pay
So many places I have sensed now
Though another's eyes, thats how
It makes me want to tell
About hyderabad's sounds and smell
Its a place which I did not choose or see
And yet had to make it a home for me
Its the picture that it brings to the eye
Of bejeweled hands and towers high
A cradle to the nawabs was what it was
Of Mosques, muezzins and houz
There is still grandeur left of the past
Enough culture of the nizams to last
Legacies left and manners taught
A way of speech and thought
And then when you turn the leaf
Be spellbound by the other side of the sheaf
Crane your neck to see structures as you go
Or just study the people and the show
There used to be rocks there ages back
Now dazzling steel makes up for the lack
Heard of our slang, have you not?
And still admired our charming lot...
There is a divide we maintain here you see
Of the city’s beauty that’s the key
How one place makes faces two
Blending the old and new
It’s the food and the clothes they say
Which makes worthwhile your stay
But there is something more to it
Something that makes it a perfect fit
No matter from where or who you are
Hyderabad’s welcoming spirit is without par
It will encircle and grow upon you
You shall then sing it’s praises too.

To note...

To those who flaunt nobility as a right
Remember it is of action and not of birth
Pay heed to the high perches you sit upon
For they are based on foundations weak
To be in a position of such great opportunity
And not be good enough is sad indeed
Even worse is to use office to inflict
Unfairly and unjustly upon another
Never underestimate silence or dignity
What goes around, comes around one day
Every one has to be weighed in the scales
Be careful lest that day you come up short.