The story of my ash tray...

I wish things could talk and if they really did someday I wonder where it will lead to...The conversation would go on for ages as they would be eager to let their feelings flow and let us know how they feel when we use them and take their existence for granted to solve our selfish purposes...The other night just the same thought came into my complicated mind the moment I lit up a cigarette and took the ash tray in my hands...

I stared into it for a while and while blowing out smoke rings kept thinking what would this fellow talk to me if ever he could do that or what would it be like to read his mind and go through his countless emotions since the day he came into my life after I purchased him off the shelf from the neighbourhood shop??? But I knew that there were few things it would have definately told me...and most of it would have been complaints about the callousness in the way I handled him...

My ash tray has been a silent witness of my moods, at times my solitude and sometimes a forced participant in the weekend parties...I have vented out my anger through countless cigarette stubs often putting them off by violently rubbing against the ash tray and the poor fellow took all this without being able to utter a word in protest...Even at times when the mind was tensed or preplexed with uncertainties that life offered it was the ash tray who took the pains of getting submerged in constant heaps of ash falling shakily from my fingers...

All through this he took it silently as I was his master and he dared not do anything or as if he could do anything at all...But I can sense how he must be feeling when he is taken in hands by strangers and passed around like an object of lust while I have guests over the week ends...I am sure he feels intimidated and at times harassed and tortured at sitting on palms, laps and even bellys of my guests...Its equivalent to sexual harrasment if thought from my ash trays point of view...

But inspite of all this sufferings that I dole out to him from time to time he has remained faithfull in delivering his duty...Always putting off the flame from the stubb and ensuring I get up alive in the morning and not turn into a heap of ash myself.....

Tribute to Dada's Stall...

Dada's tea stall for years has been a symbol of attaining manhood...Every teenaged boy in the small sleepy town dreamed of his date with the rickety wooden benches of Dada's stall.The thought of having your own small group of guys and sitting with glass full of tea and samosas along with a cigarette was the dream of many who felt exercising such rights made them have a brush with manhood much early and gave a sense of recognition amongst his peers that he too has ultimately come out of the shadows of the parental care and restrictions...

It was also a place where rivalries ran high almost at all times, at times over the girls of the town but mostly because of the group you were associated. Some like us were lucky not to have got any blows but many went back home with swollen cheeks and bleeding lips often guessing what alibi to offer at home...But that did not deter anyone from experiencing the life that the stall offered..People from all walks, the older generation, the generation that had people like elder brothers, our contemporaries and the younger lot who waited their turn to take on the wooden benches all had their fair amount of tryst with Dada's stall...

The entire day was divided into slots that were meant to be frequented by particular group of people...The mornings were meant for the daily wagers, the afternoon for school students who cared little to attend schools, the evenings with guys like us fresh out of school and enjoying college life and at night by people back from offices and on their way back home...

I especially enjoyed a steaming glass of black tea with samosas and few drags of ciggrette hiding it form the view of passerbys and the charm of all this increased many folds on a rainy day..So many things were discussed on those benches that even today it makes me nostalgic...The first crush on someone, plans to help a friend propose his love to the most sought after girl at those times, or discussing where our career was heading..it all happened while squeezing ourselves for space in those benches at Dada's stall...

Even now when I go back home I make it a point to atleast visit Dada's stall once and relive those days...Also it gives me an oppurtunity to salute the spirit of Dada's stall that has lived over decades now.....

The art of shopping...

Shopping for many may be a way to spend time and relax from the hectic day to day routine but what many of us forget is the fact that its also an art and can be mastered through years of experience put into it....Thats the very reason that in Indian household we have a select few amongst our friends or relatives who we like to take along while shopping...A point in case would be while shopping for a marriage at home..We all have a bua whos good at selecting sarees, another massi who can get the best jewellery at affordable prices, a mamaji who knows all about the knic knacks required and a hip hop cousin who can get you the right accsesories to pair with...These are the times when we value their presence in life more than ever.

I was introduced to shopping very early in my life by my dad who always believed that we should be independent and capable of doing everything that normally requires to be done in due course of our life..I remember embarking on such shopping expidetions as early as when I was 5 years old and could understand instructions.Much to the horror of my protective mom I was sent regularly to the neighbourhood shop by my dad to get may be a packet of shaving blades, or a maggi at times and even bread and eggs..He once told my mom that this experience would help me judge the finer aspects of shopping form a very early age, and I thank him now that he is no more to have inculcated it within me.There were many things that I got to understand, first the value for money when buying things, the art of bargaining, and finally getting the best out of the lot displayed by the shopkeepers...Now I am a sought after companion for my friends in their shopping spree especially form flea markets like Sarojini Nagar and Janpath where bargaining is your birth right.

It also helped me a lot when I decided to leave right after high school to persue education out of the comforts of my home and since then its been 10 years now that I have stayed away from home.But never ever have I faced a situation where I was lost in my mind while shopping or have been duped by the shopkeeper for my early exposure to the art of shopping always came handy...

The other aspect that it taught me and is also essential for others to teach their kids is economics...You learn to utilize your limited resourses in turn to get the best deals for yourself and yep it gives a huge amount of self satisfaction...Finally the next time you all embark on a shopping spree try sharpening your skills and be self satisfied..Till then happy shopping!!!