Mind you ! I dream.....even in the midst of an afternoon siesta....
An age old therapy I stress upon now and then,is to relive the past in the form of anecdotes,to dwell in the present in useful activity and then put them down in black and white.The therapeutic benefits of writing are immense , where all that one has to do is , to jog those grey cells to get the fingers moving .Writing is an activity akin to meditation.It elevates one to a state of supreme bliss.It takes only a word to get started,and you will be surprised that words spring up from nowhere ,that a story has already taken shape and you have nearly reached euphoria.
A little master had declared .What's that if you may ask ? It was a sporting event,the gentleman's game,a few decades back that many of us would have seen with our eyes wide open live on the ground,or followed the game ball to ball with a transistor glued to our ears.The little master had declared the innings.The opening pair was playing in copybook style and the openers complemented each other ,block with block.Cursed and under the influence of an evil omen perhaps,the gentleman Chetan Chauhan stood as a rock,even as his partner slowly inched towards the century mark ...Alas ! the three digit magic figure eluded Chauhan quite often and who can forget the euphoria live,the hot tea in the mud cups ,the cuppa that accidentally slipped out of my hand and fell on the back of an excited spectatator.
I still remember his wails ,though he did not raise any alarm.He did not call in the police.He was writhing in pain , he removed his shirt and showed the scalded bruises to every body around.The excitement of watching the game and maintaining the tempo of the cheers /screams was more important.Poor fellow...Very soon he had also forgotten about the mishap and the frenzied ecstasy alone remained in the air.A nearly one lakh crowd sighed in unision as the gentleman walked towards the pavilion.He was cleaned bowled on 99.
Those were the Sunny Days when Packer introduced Night cricket.The first Asian games were declared open when the television set was a luxury .Memories of a huge indoor stadium , where a dashing Amitabh fitted with electric bulbs on his dress,danced to the tune of Sara Zamana Haseenon ka deewana with a pretty Neetu by his side , come not to haunt but to give me immense pleasure.I have no count of the number of times I would have watched Biwi O Biwi,a laugh riot starring Randhir Kapoor and Poonam Dhillon,simply because we had just acquired a video casette player and this movie came free with the purchase. I watched the movie innumerable number of times ,memorised the dialogues which had a lasting impression on my young mind.So ! I had sufficient reason to believe that a manglik should get married only to a manglik .
The Mangalyan now reinforces my faith in goodness of humanity,that God dwells in Good,that you are the creator of your own destiny and so you become what you think.A positive mind leads one to the path of growth and thereby endows upon one , the ability to decide without superstitions obstructing his/her way of thinking.Mankind has progressed way beyond what may have been deemed impossible...
These and many more memories are very special,they are random thoughts that spring up in my mind now and then....of cement floors,wooden shutters,wooden foldable chairs,trunk boxes,holdalls,Navtal locks,the large iron keys,rusty creaking iron door latches,clicking fan regulators and the clacking ceramic switches.....
An age old therapy I stress upon now and then,is to relive the past in the form of anecdotes,to dwell in the present in useful activity and then put them down in black and white.The therapeutic benefits of writing are immense , where all that one has to do is , to jog those grey cells to get the fingers moving .Writing is an activity akin to meditation.It elevates one to a state of supreme bliss.It takes only a word to get started,and you will be surprised that words spring up from nowhere ,that a story has already taken shape and you have nearly reached euphoria.
A little master had declared .What's that if you may ask ? It was a sporting event,the gentleman's game,a few decades back that many of us would have seen with our eyes wide open live on the ground,or followed the game ball to ball with a transistor glued to our ears.The little master had declared the innings.The opening pair was playing in copybook style and the openers complemented each other ,block with block.Cursed and under the influence of an evil omen perhaps,the gentleman Chetan Chauhan stood as a rock,even as his partner slowly inched towards the century mark ...Alas ! the three digit magic figure eluded Chauhan quite often and who can forget the euphoria live,the hot tea in the mud cups ,the cuppa that accidentally slipped out of my hand and fell on the back of an excited spectatator.
I still remember his wails ,though he did not raise any alarm.He did not call in the police.He was writhing in pain , he removed his shirt and showed the scalded bruises to every body around.The excitement of watching the game and maintaining the tempo of the cheers /screams was more important.Poor fellow...Very soon he had also forgotten about the mishap and the frenzied ecstasy alone remained in the air.A nearly one lakh crowd sighed in unision as the gentleman walked towards the pavilion.He was cleaned bowled on 99.
Those were the Sunny Days when Packer introduced Night cricket.The first Asian games were declared open when the television set was a luxury .Memories of a huge indoor stadium , where a dashing Amitabh fitted with electric bulbs on his dress,danced to the tune of Sara Zamana Haseenon ka deewana with a pretty Neetu by his side , come not to haunt but to give me immense pleasure.I have no count of the number of times I would have watched Biwi O Biwi,a laugh riot starring Randhir Kapoor and Poonam Dhillon,simply because we had just acquired a video casette player and this movie came free with the purchase. I watched the movie innumerable number of times ,memorised the dialogues which had a lasting impression on my young mind.So ! I had sufficient reason to believe that a manglik should get married only to a manglik .
The Mangalyan now reinforces my faith in goodness of humanity,that God dwells in Good,that you are the creator of your own destiny and so you become what you think.A positive mind leads one to the path of growth and thereby endows upon one , the ability to decide without superstitions obstructing his/her way of thinking.Mankind has progressed way beyond what may have been deemed impossible...
These and many more memories are very special,they are random thoughts that spring up in my mind now and then....of cement floors,wooden shutters,wooden foldable chairs,trunk boxes,holdalls,Navtal locks,the large iron keys,rusty creaking iron door latches,clicking fan regulators and the clacking ceramic switches.....
