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Showing posts from 2009

A credit card for free.

“ This is for you ma’am, compliments of the store”. The attendant at the cash counter handed me a credit card. I pushed it away as if it was on fire.
“ No thanks. I don’t use them much. And I have one already.”
The attendant looked at me pityingly. I always have this horrid suspicion that attendant kids always pity me.
Next twenty minutes were spent explaining to me, how , with the shop’s own ‘Privileged customer’ card and the additional credit card I was going to save thousands of rupees, not to mention earn brownie points and win free gifts like diamond earrings, DVD players, and a free trip to Goa.
“ And ma’am, it’s free!” That clinched the matter. A free card can’t hurt me much, can it?

After reaching home I pushed the unwanted card at the back of my desk drawer, and forgot about it. One year was over. And I started receiving bills for the never used card. I questioned the shop, and reminded them that they had said – Free card, no service charges.
“ Only for one year ma’am! Now you w…

Goa .

I was in Goa two weeks ago. I had promised myself all sort of things. In reality, I just lazed.
I had carried four books with me for a five day vacation.

When actually there, I lazed in the room, by the pool, in the lobby, in my balcony. My friend was there on business and was on call most of the time, and I would lie on the beach on the deck chair all day long, and couldn't be roused to take any photographs, except this one. Getting the camera out of the case. sitting up on my deck chair, and shooting was just too much trouble. I allowed the sound of sea to fill my ears, the blue of sea in my eyes. No phone calls, except from my friend asking me where I was, and if I would be back for breakfast/ lunch/ tea/ dinner.

This idyllic state was short lived though. On day three the chair boy asked me, in what I considered a rather familiar fashion, if I needed sun lotion rubbed on me. I packed my book, hat, big bag and returned to the resort, and didn't go that way again. So I am…

Tito and the spirit of Satsang

Tito and the spirit of satsang.

“You want me to do WHAT?” I asked in a calm voice. Those familiar with that voice, recognize is as the Early Tsunami warning signal. Tito ignored the warning and blithely carried on.
“Why not! After all you claim to be a poet, so I thought, maybe it is more Your cup of tea than mine. I want it by this evening by the way, if you can manage it please.” That ‘Please’ was an after thought I could see.
“There is a difference between writing poetry and writing a Hindi bhajan to the tune of a film song you know! H-how could you even ASK me to do such a thing!” I sputtered. “And anyway, what do you need a bhajan for? If your mom having a satsang, My dad has loads of bhajan cds. Take any one of them. “
Tito looked mulish. His heart was set on a filmy bhajan.
“Ok, so take any bhajan from movies. Like Alla tero naam. That is a good one.
I have the CD right here.” I started to rummage thru my collection.
“ Nooo. That is a boring old bhajan. Everyone has heard it for hun…