Ayesha

I still remember the first time I saw you...a small, shabby looking kid, hair all messed up, your uniform awkwardly hanging on your thin body. But you had an infectious smile, so when you grinned at me, I couldnt help but smile back. You were the first friend I had, because I was too shy to talk to any of the other kids. You befriended me when the others ignored me. That was back in KG; since then, we became inseparable.
We discovered we lived pretty close, so we were in the same school bus. It was fun sitting in the last seat- coz it was the biggest in the bus- talking and laughing, sharing secrets and sometimes quarreling over little things! You always gave in, in the end.
We were together until class IV, when there was reshuffling and you had to go to another section. But you were so lonely there, that your parents had to request the principal to change your section. We were together again. But I had new friends and couldn't be with you all the time. You used to beg me to play with you...I wish I had listened.
We soon moved to senior school and this time you couldn't be with me, in my class. But you always came to meet me in the lunch break. I forced to you to be friends with my other pals. But I was still your 'bestest' friend! I wish I could've understood how lucky I was.
As we grew up, distances between us grew too. My friends used to make fun of you...and I supported them. I can't believe I was so vain and selfish. You used to call but I didnt take your calls. You invited me to every birthday party you threw, but I always turned you down. I was happy in my own world, didnt think I needed you. I was so wrong.
In class eleven a classmate gave me 2 of your envelopes addressed to me. You had sent them through some teacher. I opened them, thinking it would be yet another invite to some stupid party. But they were letters that you had written in your broken handwriting. They said that you were very sick and wanted to see me. You missed my friendship. I knew this time something was really wrong. I called at your house, and they told me you were in the hospital...but they wouldn't tell me what happened. I had a sick feeling inside on my way to the hospital. I met your parents, your mom looked so sad. They said you were in the ICU. I couldnt talk to you because you were in a coma, but I could see you. My heart was sinking. I couldn't believe what they just said. Only a few weeks ago I saw you in school, you looked fine. How can you be in coma?? Its just not possible. They took me to the room where I could see you. I looked through a glass pane, and saw you surrounded by tubes, and needles stuck in your skinny arms. You looked so vulnerable. All the times we shared, all our memories washed over me as I gazed at you. I wanted to talk to you, to tell you how sorry I am, to ask for your forgiveness. But it was too late. You couldn't hear me.
On January 9, 2001, I got a call saying you passed away. It hit me like a bolt of lightening. You couldn't die. Not without talking to me one last time. I had so much to tell you, so much to ask you. But you just went away. You died without forgiving me. You died too soon.
You lived your short life with zest, Ayesha. You considered me your best friend but I was unfortunate to understand how precious and special you were. You've taught me so many things about friendship and love. Never again will I betray a friend. Never again will I choose a friend over the other. And I won't wait till the end to apologise to a friend. I'll never forget you... Ayesha, you with your sunshine smile. Happy friendships' day.

What is wrong with the world?

First America. Then London. And now Egypt. They're everywhere! These terrorists have no face, no identity and no aim whatsoever. They are just plain jealous of these nations. One country alone isnt their enemy, its the entire world that they are mad at. For what reason, I fail to understand. What are they achieving by killing civilians, by claiming innocent lives? Rather than infusing terror, which is probably what they like to do, theyre generating an intense hatred towards themselves.

Osama and his like are the scum, theyre the ones that dirty our world and wouldnt let it grow. Theyre backward, because they still believe that our neighbouring nations are our rivals. They're greedy, because they want to rule the world. And they're insane, to think that they can achieve all that. They are also selfish, because they are sacrificing their own people for materialistic purposes. They're training youth in the name of jehad, in the name of God, to kill anyone who's goes against them and their orthodox views. This is what angers me the most. That even if Osama and his partners-in-crime perish, their students and followers will keep the 'tradition' of terror alive. What is jehad? Holy war? So were the Crusades, but no one ever said Crusades were good.

This clan has also managed to create hatred among people. Violence breeds violence. After the attacks in London, the focus of the London authorities has shifted to all the Hindus and Muslims living there. They are the ones being attacked because they "almost look the same"! This is insane!

If these miscreants say that they do all this to 'make the world a better place' then forgive me for laughing out loud! Since when did paradise mean bombing countries, blowing up subway trains and murdering people??

What is this world coming to?

What does it mean to be a lover?

The following is an extract from the book, Chicken Soup for the Couple's Soul. This specific article is written by one of the authors, Barbara De Angelis, Ph.D.

What does it mean to be a lover? It is more than just being married to or making love to someone. Millions of people are married, millions of people have sex- but few are real lovers. To be a real lover, you must commit to and participate in a perpetual dance of intimacy with your partner.
You are a lover when you appreciate the gift that your partner is, and celebrate that gift every day.
You are a lover when you remember that your partner does not belong to you- he or she is on loan from the universe.
You are a lover when you realize that nothing that happens between you will be insignificant, that everything you say in the relationship has the potential to cause your beloved joy or sorrow, and everything you do will either strengthen your connection or weaken it.
You are a lover when you understand all this, and thus wake up each morning filled with gratitude that you have another day in which to love and enjoy your partner.
When you have a lover in your life, you are richly blessed. You have been given the gift of another person who has chosen to walk beside you. He or she will share your days and your nights, your bed and your burdens. Your lover will see secret parts of you that no one else sees. He or she will touch places on your body that no one else touches. Your lover will seek you out where you have been hiding, and create a haven for you within safe, loving arms.
Your lover offers you an abundance of miracles every day. He has the power to delight you with his smile, his voice, the scent of his neck, the way he moves. She has the power to banish your lonliness. He has the power to turn the ordinary into sublime. She is your doorway to heaven here on earth.

Across the years

I will walk with you-

in deep, green forests;

on shores of sand;

and when our time

on earth is through

in heaven, too,

you will have,

my hand.

-Robert Sexton

Chawri Bazar

Today was one of the best Sundays I've had in years! Nothing out of the ordinary but just got to live the simple life for a few hours. And the fact that my whole family was together also might add to the fun!

It wasnt a lazy morning today. We were all up and ready to go by 10 AM. When last night Dad told me that we'll be going to Chawri Bazar, I wasnt really keen. I've always heard that its a cramped up place, full of small crowded alleys and filled with the dank smell of cooking oil...eugh! I agreed anyways because its not everyday that all 8 of us go out together.

We took the new underground metro from Central Secritariat to Chawri Bazar. I am very impressed with our Metro. Its a great package altogether with state-of-the-art stations and trains. In fact, my brothers found it better than the London metro. Just hope dilli ki janta is careful not to ruin the clean stations with their paan spits!

Anyway the escalators brought us right onto the road at Chawri Bazar. I don't remember coming here at all, though Dad insists that he used to get us when I was about 3 years old. It wasnt at all like I expected. We were right in the middle, surrounded by small kiosks selling God knows what-not! We followed Dad onto a 1-foot broad footpath with people everywhere and no place to stand. We walked into what looked like a small dhaba which was packed with sweaty, hungry people crammed together in groups, gobbling away. We had to wait 10 mins for a table to be free. We finally sat down admist wailing children at one side and roaring sardarjis on the other. I was hungry and could hear my stomach growl. And the heady smell of poori chholey made my mouth water. Finally food arrived in small steel plates and we dug in. It was yum! After a hearty brunch we tried their famous lassi...whew! It was great! On a normal day I wouldnt have let such oily food pass my lips...but today was an exception! Today was special.

Among so many people and my own family I reflected on the good old days when everything was so simple and uncomplicated. I didnt feel icky at all like I was expecting to. Instead I felt happy and strangely relieved. I wish there are more Sundays like that... :)