Aug 31, 2012

Transition time in life

So currently I am in an amazing turmoil of ups and downs of life, incidents, feelings and relationships.

Sometimes I wonder how I let someone control my emotions and feelings - and thus my own self. I acted opposite to my will and wish, nature and habit.

Generally I dont let others control me fully, though I get effected by others' viws easily but never submit fully. This time it has gone fully out of control of my self and result is depression, nagativity and feeling of guilt.

So lesson learnt is not to get drifted away towards attractive but nagative things. Doing what self finds right is very Important.

Posted from my Samsung galaxy Tab.

Dec 12, 2009

The Sick Politics

Politics is the dirtiest yet pure game of luck, if this not being true, how silent horses who were very well known and in race at the time of Babri masjid disaster, suddenly started jumping and on TV? They got a new life, a new point of coming in people's view point.

Politics is not about being true or false, its about being in picture. No one cares about the suger cane issue burning hot, the problems of those poor persons who are at to be deserted from their places if they do not get paid for their work and efforts put in. There is a burning issue of China having a bad eye on eastern parts of India, how dare they can raise issue on our PM visiting Arunachal Pradesh? I guess, its not only about being negligient, but about being unattentive to the issues burning around us. We only attend to those when they start hurting us. This is a bad habit.

Today is the day we remember with a heavy heart and wet eyes, Sons of Mother India, who laid down their lives for the cause of country.

Jignesh L Adhyaru

Nov 25, 2009

26/11 - Shall we acknowledge?

Its a year now to the tragedy. I still remember the day TV sets were flooded with sounds of fire shots and anxious movements of security and police forces around Taj, Oberoi and Nariman House, Mumbai. Those crucial hours when it was, almost without any blink, live on each and every corner of India, I am sure even in Pakistan and rest of the world. The whole world was witnessing these barbarians trying to show off how they can crawl inside our land like rats, and kill innocent people, pregnant ladies, children, they travelled from place to place just like lingering in garden, they were cowards, for sure. They came from a wicked, vicious society where they may have taught to act like this, those brain washed religion blind people were sent here to propagate terror, killings and they nearly succeded in the work they assigned to.

Internally there may be politics in the country. It is everywhere and in every part of the world. But when it comes to the security of the country, the unity, the respect and patriotism, each and every Indian should stand united. There should be no two views as to what shall be our next step. After a year of the tragedy, after many months of the train blasts in mumbai, and what not, we are still the same, Common Man... unfortunately... ah!

I quote what Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan's father said in an interview, " They had all gone for their purpose. Kasaab was standing and laughing while shooting our innocent ladies, even pregnant ladies, children and old persons, Who is he? We are asking Pakistan to do something? He should be hanged on a lamp post ". I fully agree Sir, Hang him high so that the world can see, what is the result if you try n misuse or challange our morality and patiance. It is not for any revenge, you hang hundreds of Kasaab, revenge is not complete, but it is to spread a message to their Superiors, their coward bastard Leaders, hiding somewhere in mountains, that Action is Taken, acknowledged properly.

It is the right time again, to give country and the world, a message, that we have enhanced our ability to fight these kind of incidents and that too, quickly, not waiting for a disaster to happen before any action is being taken. It is a right time for showing the world that now, our system is improvising in the manner that it can solve and conclude these kind of problem immediately and without any hasitation. That now no one from neighbourhood can throw a stone to us and we accept it expecting them to stop doing such things, its time to throw a bigger stone to them, hitting them right on their head, to convey that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

Polititians, I beg your pardon, but let us act now, Someone who told his father to see "Intersting episode outside hotel Taj shown live on TV" and after 24 hours, was lying dead outside that Hotel Taj, Major Sandeep and many brave Sons of India still awaits their part of justice, Please do not make them political issue, and not bring them in any discussions concerning to politics, just give them and us justice, pure and for sure..... India, I still wait......

Aug 19, 2009

Is this Indian society?

Had it been the Ekta Kapoor timeslot a year ago, i couldn't breath in the slot of 7 to 11 PM when the remote was remote from me. But when the K" factor started loosing its glory, i thought at least now i can see freely my fav news channels, sports channels and then at the end of the day "Sach ka Samna"..... But the luxary remained a dream now...

I am really now fed up with the serials getting on air and particularly those say before and after episode that our motto is just to show what not to do with WOMAN. Its merely a showoff that they use word "Woman related reality" and then show all unreal nonsense things on national channels which are not only pathatic to watch, but presents a totally fake picture of our village life.

Say a very famous serial shows rajasthani background and then the Silent husband, his totally innocent, village wife. The poor woman who can not give a baby boy to the family and who is forced by her mother in law to let her husband marry another girl. She keeps looking for help but this lady Gabbar is such an influancial woman that she can't help it out. Now tell me, where the hell in Rajasthan, this happens. I will surely like to go and stay in this village to fight to that lady gabbar in style of Quick Gun Murugan....

Not too far, here is one more serial with rajasthani background, that uses child artists and keeps saying the thought provoking lines after the episode but during the episode, they show how it should not be followed. Marriage and remarriage, untimely pregnancy of heroine etc became hallmark of these type of serials.

Not too far, on the name of the holy relations, someone is showing how to cheat while selecting a girl and how you can arrange a girl with dowry. Its too much to describe our society. How many of indian citizens see their own life in these characterless characters?

And not so far, here is one "Sach" fetched from you to give you money. Asking all questions related to sex and relations other then marriage is the common phenomenon here. I have never heard them asking "Have you ever cheated your teacher while giving exam in fifth standard?" or "have you ever thought that this show is worst to be on?" but they can not ask such questions coz their TRP comes in question. Switching to some news channels, you will find "Yaha Rehte The Ram" or "Yaha Hua Tha Bharat Milap".... I suggest they also can change their name now to Aastha or Sanskar coz they are giving news of nearly 5000 years old happenings.

Now what i like, i like NATGEO's latest Ancient Megastructures, I like the original Mega Structures, I like wild discovery, I like Zee TV's Little champs minus the over acting by judges, I like the laughter produced by Shekhar suman trying to occupy various personalities in his mind on Sab TV and the most i like "Tarak Mehta Ka Ulta Chashma". See a gujju writer here shows you how you can be on the Top of TRP Tree without showing any problematic content. It has values, it has message, it has fun, it has jokes and above all, it has a nearly true picture of our common Man... though we are not all the time free just like them to enjoy all days. But its fun to watch.

so what is your view about the stupid box shows??






Jignesh L Adhyaru

Aug 18, 2009

The first words...

It had been quite long.... since i put last post on this blog. Due to my infinite love to the gujarati language, i kept blogging in that only.... and will do so till i can. But writing something in the language i use throughout the day and mostly for all endevours of my professional life, was a thought in my mind since i started this blog. I kept the first post as it is just to remind myself that it had been years since i have written something here. So from now, as my wife is handling the gujarati website, and we are running quite smooth with it, i wish to express something which is happening everyday, which is thought provoking and which is not (generally) noted while you work.

Hope this effort can create some good refreshment for mind.

Regards,

Jignesh L Adhyaru

Dec 7, 2007

A Thousand Splendid suns


A Thousand splendid suns, a wonderful masterpiece of the Afghanistan life, worth reading and creates a long lasting impression. The development of the story as a whole and though it is not the one where you get lost somewhere in the middle. The links of the chain are well woven and hence it gives pleasure to the reader.
Worth its reading, Khalid Hosseini gives us a picture of the Brutality of the Taliban and gives a very clear picture of Pre, During and Post taliban scenario in Afghanistan.
I like to give you some idea of its nice write ups....
Here are some trailors of the book....................
* * * * * * * * * *
Ma­ri­am was no lon­ger ke­eping track of who was sa­ying what. She went on sta­ring at Jalil, wa­iting for him to spe­ak up, to say that no­ne of this was true.

"You can't spend the rest of yo­ur li­fe he­re."

"Don't you want a fa­mily of yo­ur own?"

"Yes. A ho­me, child­ren of yo­ur own?"

"You ha­ve to mo­ve on."

"True that it wo­uld be pre­fe­rab­le that you marry a lo­cal, a Ta­j­ik, but Ras­he­ed is he­althy, and in­te­res­ted in you. He has a ho­me and a job. That's all that re­al­ly mat­ters, isn't it? And Ka­bul is a be­a­uti­ful and ex­ci­ting city. You may not get anot­her op­por­tu­nity this go­od."

Ma­ri­am tur­ned her at­ten­ti­on to the wi­ves.

"I'll li­ve with Mul­lah Fa­izul­lah," she sa­id. "He'll ta­ke me in. I know he will."

"That's no go­od," Kha­di­ja sa­id. "He's old and so…" She se­arc­hed for the right word, and Ma­ri­am knew then that what she re­al­ly wan­ted to say wasHef s so clo­se. She un­ders­to­od what they me­ant to do.You may not get anot­her op­por­tu­nity this go­od And ne­it­her wo­uld they. They had be­en disg­ra­ced by her birth, and this was the­ir chan­ce to era­se, on­ce and for all, the last tra­ce of the­ir hus­band's scan­da­lo­us mis­ta­ke. She was be­ing sent away be­ca­use she was the wal­king, bre­at­hing em­bo­di­ment of the­ir sha­me.
"He's so old and we­ak," Kha­di­ja even­tu­al­ly sa­id. "And what will you do when he's go­ne? You'd be a bur­den to his fa­mily."

As you are now to us.Ma­ri­am al­mostsaw the uns­po­ken words exit Kha­di­ja's mo­uth, li­ke foggy bre­ath on a cold day.

Ma­ri­am pic­tu­red her­self in Ka­bul, a big, stran­ge, crow­ded city that, Jalil had on­ce told her, was so­me six hund­red and fifty ki­lo­me­ters to the east of He­rat.Six hund­red and fifty ki­lo­me­ters. The fart­hest she'd ever be­en from thekol­ba was the two-ki­lo­me­ter walk she'd ma­de to Jalil's ho­use. She pic­tu­red her­self li­ving the­re, in Ka­bul, at the ot­her end of that uni­ma­gi­nab­le dis­tan­ce, li­ving in a stran­ger's ho­use whe­re she wo­uld ha­ve to con­ce­de to his mo­ods and his is­su­ed de­mands. She wo­uld ha­ve to cle­an af­ter this man, Ras­he­ed, co­ok for him, wash his clot­hes. And the­re wo­uld be ot­her cho­res as well-Na­na had told her what hus­bands did to the­ir wi­ves. It was the tho­ught of the­se in­ti­ma­ci­es in par­ti­cu­lar, which she ima­gi­ned as pa­in­ful acts of per­ver­sity, that fil­led her with dre­ad and ma­de her bre­ak out in a swe­at.

She tur­ned to Jalil aga­in. "Tell them. Tell them you won't let them do this."
"Actu­al­ly, yo­ur fat­her has al­re­ady gi­ven Ras­he­ed his ans­wer," Af­so­on sa­id. "Ras­he­ed is he­re, in He­rat; he has co­me all the way from Ka­bul. Thenik­ka will be to­mor­row mor­ning, and then the­re is a bus le­aving for Ka­bul at no­on."

"Tell them!" Ma­ri­am cri­ed

The wo­men grew qu­i­et now. Ma­ri­am sen­sed that they we­re watc­hing him too. Wa­iting. A si­len­ce fell over the ro­om. Jalil kept twir­ling his wed­ding band, with a bru­ised, help­less lo­ok on his fa­ce. From in­si­de the ca­bi­net, the clock tic­ked on and on.
* * * * * * * *
"Eigh­te­en ye­ars," Ma­ri­am sa­id. "And I ne­ver as­ked you for a thing. Not one thing. I'm as­king now."
He in­ha­led smo­ke and let it out slowly. "She can't juststay he­re, if that's what you're sug­ges­ting. I can't go on fe­eding her and clot­hing her and gi­ving her a pla­ce to sle­ep. I'm not the Red Cross, Ma­ri­am."
"But this?"
"What of it? What? She's too yo­ung, you think? She's fo­ur­te­en.Hardly a child. You we­re fif­te­en, re­mem­ber? My mot­her was fo­ur­te­en when she had me. Thir­te­en when she mar­ri­ed."
"I...Idon't wantthis," Ma­ri­am sa­id, numb with con­tempt and help­les­sness.
"It's not yo­ur de­ci­si­on. It's hers andmi­ne."
"I'm too old."
"She's tooyo­ung, you'retoo old. This is non­sen­se."
"Iam too old. Too old for you to do this to me," Ma­ri­am sa­id, bal­ling up fist­fuls of her dress sotightly her hands sho­ok."For you, af­ter all the­se ye­ars, to ma­ke me anam­bagh"
"Don't be sodra­ma­tic. It's a com­mon thing and you knowit. I ha­ve fri­ends whoha­ve two, three, fo­ur wi­ves. Yo­ur own fat­her had three. Be­si­des,what I'm do­ing now most men I know wo­uld ha­ve do­ne long ago.You know it's true."
"I won't al­low it."

At this, Ras­he­ed smi­led sadly.
"The­reis anot­her op­ti­on," he sa­id, scratc­hing the so­le of one fo­ot with the cal­lo­used he­el of the ot­her. "She can le­ave. I won't stand in her way. But I sus­pect she won't get far. No fo­od, no wa­ter, not a ru­pi­ah in her poc­kets, bul­lets and roc­kets flying everyw­he­re. How many days do you sup­po­se she'll last be­fo­re she's ab­duc­ted, ra­ped, or tos­sed in­to so­me ro­ad­si­de ditch with her thro­at slit? Or all three?"
He co­ug­hed and adj­us­ted the pil­low be­hind his back.
"The ro­ads out the­re are un­for­gi­ving, Ma­ri­am, be­li­eve me. Blo­od­ho­unds and ban­dits at every turn. I wo­uldn't li­ke her chan­ces, not at all. But let's say that by so­me mi­rac­le she gets to Pes­ha­war. What then? Do you ha­ve any idea what tho­se camps are li­ke?"
He ga­zed at her from be­hind a co­lumn of smo­ke.
"Pe­op­le li­ving un­der scraps of card­bo­ard. TB, dysen­tery, fa­mi­ne, cri­me. And that's be­fo­re win­ter. Then it's frost­bi­te se­ason. Pne­umo­nia. Pe­op­le tur­ning to icic­les. Tho­se camps be­co­me fro­zen gra­ve­yards.
"Of co­ur­se," he ma­de a play­ful, twir­ling mo­ti­on with his hand, "she co­uld ke­ep warm in one of tho­se Pes­ha­war brot­hels. Bu­si­ness is bo­oming the­re, I he­ar. A be­a­uty li­ke her ought to bring in a small for­tu­ne, don't you think?"
He set the asht­ray on the nights­tand and swung his legs over the si­de of the bed.

"Lo­ok," hesa­id, so­un­ding mo­re con­ci­li­atory now, asa vic­tor co­uld af­ford to. "I knew you wo­uldn't ta­ke this well. I don't re­al­ly bla­me you. Butthis is for thebest. You'll see. Think of it this way, Ma­ri­am. I'm gi­vingyou help aro­und the ho­use andher a sanc­tu­ary. A ho­me and a hus­band. The­se days, ti­mes be­ing what they are, a wo­man ne­eds a hus­band. Ha­ven't you no­ti­ced all the wi­dows sle­eping onthe stre­ets? They wo­uld kill for thischan­ce. In fact,this is. … Well, I'd say this is down­right cha­ri­tab­le of me."
He smi­led.
"The way I see it, I de­ser­ve ame­dal."

* * *


Jignesh L Adhyaru