The Gen- Z

“Nuclear family” is the new way of living; at least in the always-forward-on-copying-blindly-from-the-west India. It, indeed, is a rare occasion when a whole family gathers and spends the evening peacefully without grappling. It is a rare, isn’t it?

On the trailing end of Diwali comes the auspicious day of Bhai-Duj; a day, much like Raksha Bandhan,  where a brother swears for the protection of his sister/s and sister/s ripping him off of his bank account.

Ours being a big family, we had a get-together, with all agreeing on a decided venue; performed all the ceremonies and then followed our year old tradition: Partying!

The simplicity of the day being the children, YES! The Gen-Z, of our family, ranging from 3 years old to 13 years old.  All my nieces!  

When, post the ceremony, we all, mostly the siblings, gathered around the table, obviously, for the alcohol’s and good old days’ sake. An altogether different party had started inside one of the bedrooms: The Party of the Gen-Z!

My nieces, all from the different parts of Mumbai, seldom meeting each other, gelled-in like they were the best of friends – Chuddi-buddies; a few recently being able to walk, talk and chill without continuous support/crying for their parents; leaving their parents some respite.

When the party on our side opened the bottles for the first round, the voices of the Team Gen-Z rose, after an exchange of general greetings and gifts.

We taking down the first round; they chattering about the vacation. We with no enthusiasm, waiting for the alcohol to kick some enthusiasm within us; they were already at the pinnacle of the enthusiasm. And voices, of course!

Second round, got us talking; they already into different sets of team and with a ready plan, only waiting to execute. We got to card games – money based gambling. They resorted to power-based card games: Doraemon trading cards, Pokemon…

The rounds went on and so did the clamoring inside the bedrooms. Their games kept changing and so did the level of eclectic noises keep changing. They played from Horror games, to adventurous games, to accessorizing dolls or setting up a kitchen set to chasing each other madly … The last game they ended on was everyone’s childhood special – Hide & Seek.

 Where we were onto alcohol, to make us ‘siblings’ chit-chat, and like each other, at least for one evening, those young and fresh minded, with less or no fights got into accepting each other the way they were and in a way showing us to how to make friends or how to live a life.

No egos, No pride.

Well, in the end, a family that drinks together dances together.

A last round for the evening was yet to be played before the dinner was served. Both the groups got together and danced on the Bollywood’s dancing-numbers. It was nothing but delightful to see everyone heaving, jiggling, jumping with so much energy and seeing those children dance is a sight for which anyone would give away a 1000days without a second thought. Thus, ending the whole ceremony on a happy note.

Happy Diwali!

Let’s Sneak-Out

“Yay! Finally the exams are over… come down guys.” This was the common dialogue running through the lobbies and the passages of our societies when we were in class 6^th, 7^th, 8^th, 9^th, or 10^th. “Tonight we won’t sleep. Hell, YEAH!"

Let's Sneak Out, Play!

Normally, back then, in the late ‘90s and early 2000, we were maniacs; like what a crab is to water and holes, we were to Cricket or playing. On a slightest window, we all had sneaked out from our parental monitoring just to be with our friends and hit a few balls. We were no different.

Adolescent got us friends for life; those imbecile groups of boys and girls incessantly vying and thousands of unsaid protocols to be followed, which we worshiped reverently. Coming up with codes which only the group would understand and even worse was the tagging of a name. A name tagged once, was tagged for eternity. Nonetheless, the adolescent was playful with every excuse for getting down, to be madly in love in an one sided love affair, attending schools and tuitions post school; bunking classes to go take a match, or to watch a movie, or to end a skirmish, or the most dreadful one, to take a girl out.  A thrill for the chase made life jubilant.

Now, the tables have turned, times have changed, whenever an exam ends, we hit to the nearest bar and get our drunk-brains out. Ranting about the miserable life, the upturns, the lost love, the broken-hearts, the cheats, pretending to be happy, dancing until we crash in beds and not waking-up before midday.  

A miracle took place, when we, just after the exams, unanimously agreed onto going out to play. Cricket!  

Cricket!? It won’t be wrong or far-stretched to say that none of us had played for a really long time. In the daily survival for the mundane, we had lost the definition of fun, enjoyment, excitement. Playing for an hour meant endless fun followed by two days’ of body ache. Body Ache?

Challenge accepted!

Location was set: a friend’s society with our pitch – a concrete based. Superb Bounce!

Without much dilly-dallying, after our exams, we headed for the location. We began and lasted for nearly 150 minutes with everyone going out of breath. Panting!

We are not the best players, none of us, but we definitely are a fun to watch and play with. We ran at our pace; panted more than the covered miles; the jiggling protruding bellies and asses; the fight over water much to one’s delight. No meaningless drunk nights and dancing in the clubs could give you that what a fatso friend (Vinit Shah) of yours, running like a Rhino, between the wickets just to be on a safer side.   

For a brighter side, how much fun would it be to first get drunk, all of us, and then make that fatso run?

Evil, I’m!  

A Clamoring Dream

“Come Fly with us, make the most of the open lock. Fly again!” The clamor broke out again; all with big and expectant eyes on me.

 I, with my recently shampooed cyan coat shinning and the strong crimson beak even more crimson in the morning rays, was perched well on the much-like-a-wooden-log stand, brooding over the options given to me to decide within a few seconds before the lock is done again. A golden steeled cage let loose from the ceiling, in his bedroom’s balcony, was my abode; my latest abode. One side was the open sky beyond the rods of the cage and the rods of the balcony grills and on the other side was the vastness of his room.

Stop brooding over, just Fly Away!

Today, all the senior members and the most learned of all that perched on the rod of the grills of the balcony had come to advise me. I was looking for my friends, the ones who would visit me every day and picked up an unsaid relationship; the ones more like me, but free. Today, the assembly had come on the grills of balcony, with everyone finding it difficult to balance on the sleek rods shaped in various forms to make the grill look more artistic. All the assembly squawked on me to let go the cage and embrace the nature; get into the wild.

I could hear the heart’s thudding and feel the pressure shooting up. For me, how could I leave all this, I have been with him for more than half of my life, he has made my childhood beautiful, he seldom locks me up. I’ve a comfortable life here, I’ve a swing, a pond for myself, the whole cage, variety of food, then what else would anyone want more? But the stories of my friends from across the grills of the balcony, the vast flying experiences, the kiss of the breeze, the flight in the rain, the chase, getting chased, falling in love, raising a family, singing the tree songs, the family-flying dance, the color of the seasons, all these seem like a beautiful dream to me. Meanwhile, the heart pounding so heavily as if to bludgeon someone to death. I had a narrow window of time to sneak out before he wakes up and loves me again for me to forget the world and sing for him and only him.

On a whim, I couched and got out; and suddenly, the clamor rose and turned into a big applaud. We took flights. I followed!

Felt the air above and below the wings, the use of wings. The heaving in air with the breeze until a smile broke my frown. I loved it!

“No, Stop!” I woke up with one hand in the space, in an upright position to stop my parrot, my beloved parrot, from leaving me forever. It took me a while to break the reverie and realize that it was just a nightmare.  I didn’t even pet a parrot but there still was the clamoring from across the curtains, deep in the balcony. I slid it through to see a few parrots perched on various levels of grills trying to get a mouthful of the food and water that I had stacked up a week ago in a pair of bird-feeder hanging loosely on the grills for the birds to savor on.

I, now, had regular visitors – birds of various kinds and species – in the balcony ranging from a Sparrow to a cute Maina, to Pigeons and obviously Parrots. These birds filled my mornings with eclectic melodies. I gave them food, they made my day. It is delightful to have them everyday and know them more and vice-versa. Now, my presence don't scare them away. They know me!

After all said and done, what was that dream about?

Do I really wish to break-free myself and fly again leaving everything behind?

Follow Dreams? Like Parrots? Like birds?

Dreams, I tell you!  

Sing it, Nation!

What is it like standing in dark, with hundreds of people, shoulder to shoulder, crooning a melody?

I came vis-à-vis the melody, crooned in the dark with scores of people standing upright, the last time I went to watch a movie – The Martian –  in the PVR cinemas just across my home, with my family. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the regulars of a cinema that runs before a feature presentation begins; in fact it was mundane! This time though, the set of actions that I ran through were unprecedented.

I, on a Sunday evening, was among the few lucky ones to have had our seats reserved – God bless internet booking! To the likes of every family, the father and the son were ready before time and the mother and the daughter were dilly dallying over what to wear. We were late!

Now, thanks to PVR cinemas for providing a buffer of fifteen minutes; full of movie trailers and undesired commercials.

 Sing it, Nation!

We got into the auditorium when some commercials were going on. I helped myself assume my seat next to a lady who had got the whole row occupied with a dozen or more children, whom I couldn’t fathom, again, because of the dark.

It is mandatory to play Jana-Gana-Mana, India’s National Anthem, before any movie begins. No sooner had I got myself comfortable than the big screen flashed – Kindly stand-up for the National Anthem. I stood up!

Now there runs an unsaid protocol wherein one needs to stand-up in order to pay respect when a National Anthem is played, be it of any country. If one doesn’t stand-up or is lazing around, then the moral policing eyes of the people, who are standing, whether in real respect or not, will give a look of disgust that would pierce deeper than a dagger and compel you to stand-up; often this moral policing is done by the people who doesn’t get a head or tail of patriotism or its values.

I often valued these principles at mediocrity, but was always pro-active at such occasions, however brief they maybe. I stood up! My parents and sister, would either hum or croon the anthem with me grinning at them. I didn’t! I didn’t because I couldn’t as I believed I would kill the harmony and also a part of mine was hesitant.

The National Anthem began, as melodiously as it could get, with some old and lazy people still managing to get on their feet. A big tricolored flag flashed heaving on the screen. I looked towards my right, my folks had already began humming and me showing them my teeth in the dark in a very awkward standing position. It was nothing new. I was surprised when I heard the croons coming from my left. The noble lady with all the children was crooning it with all having their right hand on their respective chests. They all were so enthusiastic and so true to themselves. Their singing had purity and was rose-water bathed. It was serene!

Slowly and steadily, the rows ahead and behind ours picked it up and gradually went up to almost each and every one picking up the rhyme to either humming or crooning it. I was mesmerized by such unprecedented happenings in the auditorium brought by those bunch of children and a lady, supposedly their teacher.

The 52 seconds rhyme had its effect on everyone. I, though picked it up late, maybe last, but got along and hummed it if not sing the remains of the anthem. Nostalgia groped me; took me to the days of school, long missed, where we all would, every morning, sing some prayers and our national anthem with so much of pride and so much of love, incredulously; which only got layered under the saw-dust of mundane activities of growing-up.

Later, in the intermission, I figured out that those children were differently abled. I kowtowed in reverence!

p.s. The National Anthem with the differently abled school children and the one with the Army officials at the Siachen Glacier are the best as per me.

Acknowledgement | Gratitude | Acceptance

Ludwig Wittgenstein once quoted, "Knowledge is in the end based on acknowledgement.'' 

Humans know, don't know or deny the very fact and power of Acknowledgement. It is an impetus for perpetual altruism. 

Add this to your life to change your life!

How often do we do that? Or let me ask how often do we acknowledge someone who doesn't concern us? Answer yourself! You will know what I mean. I know we all are totally absorbed in our mundane activities and simply love to crash in the bed by the day's end; but as we go through our day, we actually end up owing more and more to the people around us, to the society, to the elements which we come across our lives in that particular day; basically to the Universe!

Let's take a few examples-

1. Imagine, just missing that '7.45' local train in the morning would change your 'I'm having the best day' to 'I'm up to kill a thousand' in a fraction of second. You know, now, if someone whom you hate, god forbid it to be your ex, pops up out of nowhere and starts vexing you on the platform itself; what would you do? I know what I'll do and I take the liberty to say it for all of us as well. I'll charge on that someone yelling "SPARTA! AHOO... AHOO… AHOO! 

2. Despite how much ever we deny, we know we ache for that like; especially from that one special being. The state wherein you know that the uploaded pic on social media is for your just-turned-into-ex-because-of my-own-mistake girlfriend, maybe taken by her and with her, for which she had always asked you to upload, but you never did; and now, in desperation, wanting to woo her by uploading the same. It aches to see the marvels of that pic not acknowledged and appreciated by others and especially her. Why the HELL did I not get any Likes? This was my best picture ever!

   

3. That one day of the week, where you keep your ass up in the air and face dug deep into the pillow for most of the day - Sunday. You only cease to do so when the fan automatically turns off. What the F...? It's Sunday and no one is allowed in the room, not even parents; then who dared to cross the borders. It's our bai, maid, who got veto powers to overturn every rules as per her convenience and who, meticulously, only forgets to turn on the fan again after she is done. 

4. The late night homecoming with a company of other sex. I'm sure, we all do it quite often. Be it 2 or 3 or 4 o'clock in the night, when we get home in an inebriated state, we must have embraced the smoothness of the dark, the beauty of the night and a man standing quite far with a bamboo stick in the dim light. Seldom, barging into our privacy. 

5. The little drinking plans, in the corner of your society's lawns, right under the moons and stars with your pals lying on the silky, smooth and soft grass; taking shots.  Remember the sighs we've had saying, 'Ah! God bless this cushioning grass.' Going all this long only to get busted! 

From case 1 to case 5 we could only be happy and thankful, instead of being sad about the undesired outcomes. Our exes only teach us patience and tolerance through a hard way. If we miss the train, we must not lose it all, it's all right; the world won't come to an end. That is a beautiful picture, and you know it. Trust me! Show it off for yourself and not for others. Why bother? Be proud of the fact that even your pictures can be this stunning. Rather than cursing the bai, who is not always innocent, hone the skills of sleeping without fan; for she is the one who keeps your room the way it should be. That watchman, whether we know him or not, knows us and keeps our secrets safe with him; without turning it into a scandalous gossip of the society. Do we even know the gardener of our society? He is the reason we have cushioning grass under the sky. It is no shame getting caught drinking, it is only fun to repeat it; repeat it with the same gang!

I believe, "Being acknowledged is magical." You know how it feels once you get acknowledged, so why miss it? These fast paced lives of ours, already, has its watertight compartment of hatred, competition, anger, jealousy, revenge; to which there is no immediate soothing. Let’s spread the good vibes, let’s mingle, let’s hold hand, and let’s walk with ‘ear-to-ear’ smiles; as life is too short to notice everything. Saying a ‘Thank-you’ or a ‘Sorry’ won’t cost us anything, but would definitely cheer up the other person; as being humans we all share one similar trait-Expectation.  

I'm, here, not telling you as to how one should behave but asking you to observe the flip side and accept it, acknowledge it and show gratitude towards it; for everything these three actions can make someone's day. Do it not to make them happy but yourself, as George Orwell rightly states, "Happiness can exist only in acceptance." 

Dancing Dilemma!

'Now what? Science, Commerce  or Arts? What are your further plans? What is that you seek? Do you even know how fast is the world growing? and scores of other questions, which were sine qua non. were bombarded upon us during our time. I, forever, was on the receiving end of this foray of ever probing, poignant and perplexing questions. I'm sure even you must have also gone through the same if you're the same type as I am- 'Career choices, I don't get head or tail of it.'

I, 15, had only finished my class 10th; that too with decent scores. I was more of an impetuous decision maker, I still am; so never cared what will come after this and that. Besides, what would a 15 year old one know about seeking goals in life. For once, why would he even care two hoots about it, as he is still engrossed in adolescence and its ceaseless curiosities?

Dance with the Dilemmas

Everyone kept going about the same thing like they got a bee in their bonnet! Even you must have been hit by the same torrent of bullets of questions just like me. I was gunned down by the gun of questions, often used  by the terrorist-R (relatives).

I was pretty calmed about myself and had, at least, sorted out it in my mind to opt for science which I eventually did, One down thousand more to go! The decision to take up science was out of a whim. Earlier, I thought of taking up Arts and graduating in Arts, since commerce had no chance as I hated that very word, to pursue for UPSC exams.The game of whim is such, that I chose Science over Arts with a thought of, which was a big folly, if I'm to crack UPSC exams, I might as well crack it in style and with pride by opting Science!

On the first paper of my 12th final exams, I turned into an adult in the eyes of the constitution of India. The Dilemma then was not of choosing a stream but of taking CET or not. A CET could make you an Engineer or a Doctor; no CET will leave you with plain B.Sc. The eternal fad in India, that parents envisaged for their children, either to be an Engineer or a Doctor. I went one step further, with dilemma playing at zenith, breaking the conventions. I chose B.A.!

Most of you must have, despite taking a stream, changed your paths, because either you couldn't fathom a thing or some other stream tricked you into taking it up. At least, then, you may have settled in the new stream. As, fortune or bad fortune had it, I again shifted from B.A to B.Sc., after completing one year out of the three year course. I was not contented! I needed more! As my dilemma played its tunes whim danced more.

Back then, before shifting to B.Sc,, a trend had surged in. A trend of becoming a Pilot. Many jumped in with the glamour and the early earnings it fetched. I, too, with complete ground training and no practical flying lessons, was the one!

Post that, I hated everything as I couldn't be a pilot. I loathed B.Sc., which was recently taken up. Recession not only shut many companies in the US but also shut my scope of being a Pilot, about which I'm happy, today!

Quickly, I was abosrbed into the plain science graduation course and got over my so called depression. I did my graduation in Statistics.

For once, things started making sense and a clarity was achieved until one of the Terrorist-Rs broke about taking up MBA as a back-up before going for UPSC. Like an innocent cow I opted for CAT.

We all know what CAT does to an average student. I was the one to face the same brunt of CAT's which every other student faced who aspired an IIM- A/B/C and didn't get through. To keep the fight up, as my spirit was still unaffected, I moved for UPSC and within a year's time realized that a back-up is must.

Dilemma danced again, yet another time. I was unsure, as to back my self up with what? Finally, resorting to MBA-CET, a younger sister of CAT, I got into a reputed B-school in Mumbai.

First year, second semester made us choose again for a domain. I, much like others opted for Marketing, as it only deemed fit.

I'm currently in second year, vis-a-vis a host of choices to choose to make a career into it. Picking up, within Marketing various sectors such as FMCG, Digital Marketing, Media...

Now, given the experience I have had with the dancing dilemma, I'm sure life is full of choices and we're full of dilemmas, that too the dancing ones. We all have made wrong choices. Don't lose your hope. Sometimes, being shameless helps; it helped me take taunts of thousands, including a few professors who should have been encouraging instead of discouraging. Be shamesless but never insensitive. Empathize! It is never too late to start! Let your dilemmas dance. Take a whim! Go crazy! Stay flexible! Make memories, make mistakes. Learn! Because, Someday somewhere you will hit something so strong yet so soothing that you will settle down for it or with it.

'TRAINS'FORMATION!

Enveloped in the throng of 'I need to be in time' types, I felt a sudden push from behind making me step forward on the half foot raised platform, even before the brakes hissed and the chugging sound stopped. As I rose up onto this raised platform I couldn't fathom any faces or see the happenings in this new, dark world with daylight entering across its breadth. All I could hear was chaotic rumblings from eclectic sources and languages- some within my ken and some beyond my ken! I, with myriad heads, was set into motion, finally now, not gasping for air and feeling like a sliver patty of meat sandwiched with force coming from all the ends, struggling to keep on feet with all my college paraphernalia. Letting loose, hating the odor, going back and forth with the push, sniffing the pungent hair oils, getting a few strands of hair in nose, once or twice; even worse, was getting close to the sump of sweat of a taller man's armpits; I got drenched in sweat- of my own and of others as well! A thirty minute of second class ride of a local train in peak hours got me all these.

The throng of ''I need to be in time'' types

It's August and there is deficit in rainfall, giving rise to the soaring temperatures and humidity drenching one in one's own sweat. These dry spells are not really dry, at least not in terms of perspiration; at least something is trickling down! It was not my first local ride or first "second class" local ride, it was my first after being enslaved to the extra comfortable life of commuting in a car. I didn't have a car for one week, so had to resort to trains. People, in right senses, even in  first class, dread to take a train in peak hours. Second class is out of question, syllabus or maybe universe!

I don't despise second class or deign people commuting in second class. All I hate is the way one enters it and the way one gets out of it. Y'all will know if you commute through local trains of Mumbai. Even first class, for that matter, in the peak hours. When you get out, the perfectly washed, dried and ironed shirt looks like rewashed, crumpled and half or less tucked-in and those black shoes of yours, for which you polished and brushed it for minutes to be able to see your own reflection, show you the white reality of life- being stomped, discolored and the shapelessness of it, much like your physique!

Whatever be the hardships, it is the fastest means to get to one's destination for me and thousands like me.

The second day arose, still my car wasn't with me and I had no options but the local trains. This time again, I was enveloped in the throng of same types and the experience was pretty much like the same. I grew more immune to it and loathed it a little lesser. Only after  two-three more trips it dawned to me that I actually had started liking it and could see the new lessons taught to me.

Even in that chaotic noises and back aching pushes I was smiling, making way for people, understanding the flow of throng. I grew more mature in the local trains within a few sessions than what i grew in a closed classrooms for all these years, with endless theory bombardment.

I learnt the daily struggle, that every local commuter goes through, from worrying about catching timed local trains, then getting a seat, if not a window-seat, then at least a seat to re-showering again, this time in sweat; getting disheveled, surviving unbearable push and force, the momentum of getting on and off-board.
I learnt the spirit of every individual, whether loathing it or loving it, going through it!
I revived the steel-made SPIRIT that every MUMBAIKAR has!
I learnt and loved it the LOCAL TRAIN"S WAY!
I 'TRAINS'FORMED!

SOPHISTICATED HEADBANGING

''Ye shaam mastaanee, madahosh kiye jaa
  Mujhe dor koee khinche, teree or liye jaaye..." 

Finishing the last line in a low pitched, stretched, melodious way with a little humming in the end, singer Amit Kumar, the son of the legendary singer and my father's singing guru-Kishore Kumar- hung the mic on the mic stand only to hear the roars of applauds from the audience, some even giving a standing ovation. Those were the ardent followers of Kishore Kumar who were only present there, on a Sunday evening, to pay their unfading respect, unending support with unconditional love to their music Ekam, the sole singing legend, on his 86th birth anniversary.

Amit Kumar paying Tribute

Last Sunday, a noble organization held up a programme to pay tribute to the most loved singer of all times, in Shanmukhananda hall in Sion. Many big celebrities and nobles were invited. Singer and son of Kishore, Amit Kumar, was the star player of the night. He is taken to be the near-perfect Kishore Kumar; the old withered eyes look for their beloved singer in him. Apart from Amit, even Bollywood playback singer, a minister of state and the chief guest of the night, Babul Supriyo, hiked the moods of audience, making them go gaga for him, in disguise to Kishore. There were a few other celebrities from the singing fraternity of the Bollywood clique. The whole event consisted of paying tribute to Kishore Kumar, formerly, then also providing a better platform for the uprising singing talent who were used as fillers. Besides this, a monograph based on the life of Kishore was launched. Meanwhile, a power point presentation was played, on a 100'' LED screen, consisting of  very few pictures of Kishore, set in a loop, circling the whole time till the end of the event. 

The sheer occupancy and the soaring roars echoing in the auditorium was the epitome of the success of the event. 

On my part, I like Kishore and his style of singing, which is versatile. Having grown in a family where music is more than a religion, where legendary singers are no less than deities, where sordid affairs relating music is no less than terrorism; one needs to respect, if not love music. Such fidelity is observed for music and musicals ideals. I don't sing but I enjoy music, any good music, no boundaries whatsoever. 

Despite having lectures on Sunday, my classmates and I, we planned for a dinner to take a break from the monotony of the class. The monotony was maddening. A break was a sine qua non! A WhatsApp group, on Friday, was made for the same. Slowly but strongly a restaurant was fixed. The plan was on! It was on, but for me, only until the Friday evening. As I learnt that dad had bought tickets for a musical night, wherein singers would be singing to pay tribute to Kishore Kumar, leaving me with no choice but to go with the family.  

At the entrance there was a marquee saying ''Yeh shaam mastani... on 86th birth anniversay.''

Now, let’s flip the coin.

Headbang

Normally, youth of my generation and Gen-Y prefer the western music leaving a few to the soothing of classical and retro music. If today, one suggests an old song to one's peer, there is a likely chance of being laughed at calling that one for living in an uncle's age. Music these days isn't about the choice, preference and liking but about the masses. People follow, engross and adapt themselves to the likes of others and what media wants them to like. Dancing in clubs to any Bollywood or Hollywood numbers. Following suit of others so as to be well accepted in the cult, whatever it maybe. The loyalty was nowhere to be seen. All things Ephemeral! 

I, for myself once, was a Heavy Metal music lover; followed bands, attended different gigs, saw people getting drunk. Got myself drunk as well. What amazed me the most was the sub-culture of these Metalheads or Headbangers. The way they express their music or the music expresses through them, such well entwined . The headbangs, the mosh pits, the death wall, stage diving, crowd surfing and what not. Of all, the most aggressive and the most loyalty gaining cult, albeit less in numbers. Definitely barring the classical cult.

Think of the times you were in the gig banging your head. You might end up finding many such times. Some even long forgotten. The reverie for the music, the adrenaline push that you got despite the hours of horrendous amount of energy spewed in moshing. The music taking you to new highs, with a little of alcohol catering to, way above the earthly desires. All alone, in a happy space, really Happy!

Flipping the coin back again.

That night, in that event, i experienced a new world, a new energy, all driven by the loyalty and love- all Happy! 

Though initially I was sulking about being brought into the auditorium instead of letting me go to have dinner with friends. This sulking and grimace ditched my mind no sooner than the two performances were performed, though still not performed by the star of the night. All I could see slowly and steadily, I, along with others, was getting myself, involuntarily, into the oscillations of the musical pendulum. I observed, like a Metalhead bangs his head, a Kishore fan, generally in the age group of 35 and above, would hum along swinging his head with rhythms or tapping his foot, with a smile of delight and even more smiling eyes to complement it. If it were for his favorite song, then the excitement may come out through a whistle or two and then again following the above mentioned suit. Thundering claps and a loud cheer before and after the performance was rudimentary, I fathomed, was the driving factor. For the audience, who had a draconian Monday the next day, stayed glued for over four hours; eyes of content, smiling throughout. 

This different world, consisted of elderly people more than the young adults, coming from various parts of the country and diversities, forming a ball of super charged energy was not different to me than the mosh or the head-banging guys in a metal gig.

If today's generation growls, make horns and head-bangs; the earlier generation does the same with subtle sophistication!

OBSERVATIONAL DELIGHTS?

'You must speak to the world, let them know what you think, irrespective of it being right or wrong. Put your perceptions forth,' advised my dad, on a regular basis.

After a lot of nagging and a continuous persuasive attempts of unfailing genial nature he managed to get my mind molded and made me talk to the world, i.e. to y'all. Thus, I'm here to put forth my views, observations, perceptions of everything ranging from the existence of the tiniest of the atoms and the different universe altogether in it to the flying of a bird in Rio de Janeiro to a blossoming Tulip in Netherlands to a grandmother meticulously massaging her new grand
child in Tokyo to a  music gig in Pune, to the sleepy eyes of that old watchman in our buildings, to almost anything that entwines with us in our walks of life in this universe and many more across the bigger universe of which these are the part of; to infinity, obviously!

Fill the Void!

Small things that we often miss out despite running through them every day, not because we don't see them, we do, for-sure! We just don't observe them! I will only try to fill that void with various perspectives and excerpts.

Hello, All! I'm Sagar, a boy next door, pursuing MBA from a reputed college in Mumbai. The above mentioned reason is surely the one big reason behind me coming to write on this very platform and the others being my sole love towards writing and reading and mostly criticizing on the events that take place in our lives on a day-today basis. I've found, hitherto, often than seldom, that I always have contradicting views among my peers, in my family discussions, in a lair, almost everywhere. Not saying I'm correct and they're incorrect. There just can't be any evaluation done here, as this is solely based on one's perception and the way one analyses it based on the background one has grown in.
At times for being an outspoken personality you have to face the brunt of words and sentences which are hurtful, often poignant. People will take you as a crass personality, but why bother? Stay put with your views. It's no crime to be different!

Ta-Da, here I'm putting forth whatever runs through my mind, based on my analysis. You may like it or you may dislike it; you may agree with it or  you may disagree; I can only tell you that there are always two sides to a coin. There're Devas and Asuras- Devas finding Asuras evil and vice versa. There is no full white or full black, at least not today, there is always a little black in every white and a little white in every black What is important is that we analyse our whites and our blacks and try to work for its betterment, choosing on our inclination towards the White or the Black or the Both!

I firmly believe, no matter wherever we're from, despite the upbringing we've gone through, the practices we've undertaken, the deities we've worshiped and the scores of other differences among us; at the rudimentary level, we are equal, lit by a small fire -desire- within us and a countering power as a drop of a water -contentment- to keep it balanced, varying from person to person. These two elements, according to me, despite having five elements mentioned in the scriptures, are the nucleus of a healthy soul. They're the ''White and Black'' of the soul. It is often believed, '...that a man with a grey soul, a man with an equi-balance of the fire and the water in his mind has achieved the ethereal joy of life- Inner peace. He won't overjoy a victory or over-mourn a loss. He is believed to have achieved- Samta. The last one to have achieved a complete state of Samta, walked some two thousand five hundred years ago on the face of the earth, changing its way of life, enlightening the many in his wake of walk of his journey. He was Gautama Buddha.

Let us try to understand and appreciate the efforts put in by others to make our lives so comfy and secured and give them the rightful gratitude that we due them. Only by appreciating others we can shine ourselves, not only from within but also from outside. Let's try to fill the void. The key is simple- small things. Do them, take a dip in it, smile over your follies, run errands to do them, bring smile to others, smile yourself, let loose. Just do it! The difference will be well apparent in no time. Let's walk, talk and grow to move towards Samta.

"Observational delights!" is a small attempt of mine to get you vis-à-vis with the beatific vision of the small unnoticed things that we do but we don't realize. It would be my attempt in the most sincere way to bring you the insights of the lost, unnoticed, undervalued, castaways, once loved. To cherish the ones which always got our backs but got overshadowed. To light the gusto within for the forlorn hope that we killed eons ago.

Right here, with your indefinite support and contribution, Let us aspire to achieve the ultimate truth of the motion- The walk of life. To set our Fire and Water in the most near perfect order. To play with our Whites and Blacks and achieve both from time to time, to travel the neo-Human world unraveling eclectic human touches; feeling one another.

So, we shall begin our journey on a good hope, better intentions for the best world.
Let's Notice the UNNOTICED!
Let's OBSERVE!
Let's tour the OBSERVATIONAL DELIGHTS!