La ilaha il-lAl-lah,

I was happy as you spoke the sweet words, you learned pehela kalima, i felt very happy.

Let me share with you some of the grave concerns concerning religion and politics. Since long the quest for power has been vital for human race. There is satan in a continuous effort in making world a place for leisure, lust and desires. Almighty Allah has made it very clear to avoid any confusion, however the strategy of divine plan do not let humanity know the truth at cheaper cost. The continuous quest needed for self realization and understanding is very rare. This leads to religion floating at surface layers hooked by customs and culture. Most of the people are greedy and they are interested only in their own happiness. These vectors make ordinary people fall in the trap of rat race of emotion driven attachment to religion, which can be easily fueled by the ruling elites.

People in politics and those who control system do understand very well the psychology of people. These ordinary people, since they lack understanding are easily manipulated and in the name of religion are used for their benefit. Some people are proud in Muharram Juloose, and some in Ramnavmi parades. They show their strength by making a public show of swords and treeshools. How angry they are? How rude they are? How stupid they are? The discourse of killing people, in the name of Ram, or establishing Ram Rajya, fuel them with a satisfaction of holiness. Same is with others as well. They rape, kill and destroy and this bloody game is religion to them.

Don’t be disguised. Quran says “La ikraha fid-deen“, better listen Quran, read it and understand it. They will criticize, and will laugh on you. However this should not be a matter of discouragement for you. Truth is that the Quran is the only book, meant for the guidance of people for this generation and the implementation manual is described in details in Sunnah of our beloved prophet Muhammad (pbuh). So better read, practice and concentrate on self righteousness.

Avoid stupid discussions. You are accountable for your deeds. Even prophet Muhammad (pbuh) was not successful in convincing all. The job is to convey the message. Convey the message with dignity. If they agree, well, otherwise do not ponder in exaggerated explanations. How will you test? This is simple. The point you feel, you are getting angry, stop. And turn away. Seek Allah’s forgiveness and make Duaa to increase Imaan. To foolish is his anger and pride. Good people learn to lose with dignity than to win on false grounds. This is not easy. Holding emotion is like holding a burning lava in hand. So drop it quickly. Don’t get burned. Your win or lose is not the criteria for your success. Your success criteria is your intention, taqwa and Aamal.

Establishing the deen of Allah is Farz on Muslim Ummah. However the accountability and responsibility vary in the way that all of us are not having the same boundary conditions. Do not ever make any hasty decision in emotion. For any act and decision you must be enough knowledgeable to comprehend and apply in yourself first, before you jump to others.

So, good to start with “Jihad-e-Nafs”, listen to enlightened souls, be open to fresh ideas and attain moral excellence as demonstrated by our beloved prophet Muhammad (pbuh)

Gagga ne ra one chahiye, And the moon is the only light

You belong to so many things and Darbhanga is the one, it belong to your father and the long history of struggle of your grandfather in getting family established. How beautiful is watching you arguing, fighting, crying and smiling. The innocence and its value. And you are all the times watching Ra-One,

When the night has come
When the night has come and the land is dark
When the night has come
When the night has come and the land is dark
And the moon is the only light
And the moon is the only light
And the moon is the only light we will see
So darlin’, darlin’

Darling, darling stand by me
Com’n stand by me
Stand by me
Darling, darling stand by me
Com’n stand by me
Stand by me

Concerned about so many things, distance keeping the tides of love and rock solid thoughts making me thinking all the times about the future, keeping you on the traditions of respect and honor and equipping with all necessary educations, which may make you a man, who loves and care and do not fall in the trap of greed, materialism, hate and anger. Love is rare and difficult to maintain. It demands a character hardened with small moral values and invaluable experience gained in course of sacrificing a lot.  Thinking so much, got some kokchees for you, this is how you spell chocolates, and I love it.

There was a Rajdoot bike your grandfather had which was taken back. And not only the bike but many things including his career had what made us to realize a lot about what to do next. I made so many things on my own, learned, earned stood against odds. Not very intelligent but memorized a lot to fill the gaps of learning patterns, racing past all the smart convent guys. Trigonometry was difficult, so was Algebra, however all was in mind, what if not understood well, hard work makes all happen.

Darlin’ darlin’
O rehbaran o mere rehbaran o o tujhse waasta (and the moon is the only light)
Tu manzil hai aur tu hi uss manzil ke aagee ka rasta (when the land is dark)

Realizing the past fuels some more energy to gain momentum. Auditing past reflects some important figure to take advantage of.

When you go when you leave
Then you take a little piece of me with you
There’s a hole in my soul
Cause you take a little piece of me with you

These are random thoughts. The movie is good. We didn’t had the luxury of laptops. My fantasies of He-Man and Sigma serial on Sunday was always on the mercy of electicity power cuts. We in our times were ready to sacrifice happiness and were less demanding. This gave us the gift called “patience”. You may want things to happen flashing on nano-technical scales, but remember, high frequency need extra controls and if not provided may go out of control, be it a machine or your vulnerable desires. Patience is the key of so many problems. A master key, “Patience”, which can unlock any problem.

The ideal non linear equations of advices and moral values. The non-ideal equations of real life. When you will try to solve these equations simultaneously you may not get real roots most of the times. Don’t panic, just stay with it, be patient, uncomplaining, stand on your principles. Qura’n will help if you read and remember to keep a balance between happiness and values.

… You interuupted me, i smiled, he laptop was off again. Gagga ne ra-one chahiye, you asked to make laptop on and start Ra-One movie again.

Ejazul ki chai, (Ejazul’s Tea)

Growing up in 90s was different. The society was not digitized.

I had only two friends from SJS. Iqbal and Asad bin daud. They were the best since we had a deep bonding in terms of friendship which led to comics exchanges and roaming, fighting, playing around and more which will be an alien activity to coming generation. We all discuss senior people around, and become inspired. Students from Salafia Unanin college and some of the seniors belonging to SIMI. We had good times having inspirational chats with them and little booklets of urdu stories.

I met Ejazul, we called him Ejazul, don’t know where he is but he was a good friend and a book Ibn-e-batoota ki daastan belonged to him, though i got it from Iqbal and it had stories about Ibn-e-batoota’s expeditions. Good book and i had it with me long time. Milton and me usually will go in evening at Ejazul’s room near Iqbal’s house. He made good black tea and we enjoyed the company and peculiar taste of the tea. He was a sort of innocent grown up kid. He knew that the book is with me, and i never returned his book. I regret a lot, i think i had returned to Iqbal.

I feel my life to be fast, very fast. Many good old friends are getting out of mind. This life is a one way hash function and i think this is not going to repeat. Sometimes i am much hooked to the old memories. There are much tastes, smells, stories which remind of old days; much when i open an old book and discover something which associates a lot of past. I still remember the taste of Ejazul’s tea made on kerosene stove, a continuous push of the pumps in order to have a continuous flame. The aroma and tea, and i have no clue if i will ever meet him.

About Interlaced bindings, bollywood, doordarshan and aakashwani

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Year 1986 – 1989; Darbhanga,

What is so special in the charm? Where do we get it? With growing age it is worth remembering the definition of charm, which ever existed, long time back …

In afternoon about half past one, the aakashwaani and old radio with old songs. I didn’t knew anything called TV as such. The first I saw at Tipu’s home. The famous song was “leke pehla pehla pyaar …”

Dev sb expired recently. I do have some pastimes closely associated and it is very tough separating the intangible little thoughts of a kid interlaced with the style, charm, fantasies and many more thoughts. He was certainly one of the most admired actors by me.

Since the time was not of exposure overdose. Things were quite disciplined. DD1 had a defined window of visual frame. Also it depended on lot many factors. Electricity availability on Sunday nights.

Those were the days when art was not contaminated. Yes business was of course but the business was not so harsh to get clothes of actors and actress off to fuel the desires of audience well in pursuit of making extra dollars.

I was a kid and was returning home with Abbujaan. The cycle had a front basket and I was enjoying the fast moving road past. Some veggies and a torch yellow colored. I wonder sometimes how I can memorize so much. My childhood was so multicolor. Abbu stopped at DMCH quarters. Rahman phupha jaan was a copy of Shammi Kapoor. May Allah rest him in peace; he was so humorous full of life. Cracking jokes of medical life. Patients, doctors and a lot. I was a charming kid though. They used to kiss me on my cheeks and I hate that act the most.

A chase scene was on a small b&w tv set. This was Shammi Kapoor and a very old song. Abbujaan was talking to Rahman phupha and the tea was on to be ready. I was not getting bored as I liked movies since childhood. Maybe there could be wrong and right, but I didn’t know much. My childish fantasies had a lot of Dev Anand and Shammi sb.

I moved, played, wondered a lot. In all the acts, the fear of homework, love of comics, teacher’s punishment and the subjugated attitude as a result of family conditions, there was always a corner that open a rear window to films, songs, our neighbors and related relations; what was in common, was the movies and actors. Heavily influenced, exposed.

I witness the transition from an age of classics to the pre modern era, when BigB made some Shehenshah mode and a lot Mithun stuff in market. The songs on PaanWallah shops were changing the taste, the paan tested the same, however the soundboxes were tuning different rhythm.

I saw the movie Dream girl at Naanijaan’s home. In a small celebration I was talking to a strange friend. I was talkative. This was a vibrant night. Naanijaan’s home was always special. Our Mamujaans were a great source of bonding. As usual in Indian families there is always a sense of negative heat from Naanihaal and the in laws, but I didn’t experienced much. I had a T-Shirt, the 699. I talked a lot, Captain Tara and Sigma. While discussing I found him an interesting person and we were friends in moment. I lost the friendship in brutal course of time, and even FB is helpless tracing back.

“Gaata rahe mera dil … … Pyaar karne waale, pyaar hi karenge, jalne waale chahe jal jal marenge, …” the song has a special significance. From early childhood, I used to sing this song. An equally impact was from dream girl. Something we can’t explain as the sense of love in movies was not comprehended by childish brains. What we see on screen was a scene only, that impacted mind and got interlaced with memories, activities, life milestones. Something which defines some beautiful moments of past. The small home, hot summer noon, Sunday business with TVs. And of course black and white films at neighbor’s home since we didn’t had a 12V battery arrangement.

About my friend Tanqueed Alam and Professor Adil Sb,

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Shamsi is getting married. He has been a friend to me since class 6th. Shamsi was introduced to me as Tanqueed Alam by our respected Mehre Alam sir.

This was one fine morning in Zila School, I was in corridors of the 6th class entrance gate. My whole bag was stolen by school peon some weeks back and I was helpless. Mehre Alam sb was one nice dashing and one of the most intellectual acumen personas I have met ever. He was brilliant and just different. His gentle style and the way of teaching, grasp over subjects, fabulous. May Allah reward him Jannah and I wish I could have gained some more guidance.

He introduced Shamsi to me,

“Meet him “Tanqueed”, take him to the class”, said Alam sir with a habitual smile, I liked.

Tanqueed was like all combed hair in the way old Golmaal actor had a desi look. We talked chatted a long over the books, tuitions living and relations links and had aaloo chaat outside. By the way he happened to my “Bhateeja”, as late I discovered Ail to be my “Naati”. I was too young to hold these seior positions, so I ended up having being called friends.

The character Adil Jamil was already around, and quickly we were good friends. Actually I have seen, it happens in girls mostly, the triode friendship. However we were just good friends, I will say the best even. Soon we captured the morning assembly prayer space and were leading “Daya Kar Daan Bhakti Ka …” Morning prayer. In some way or other we all were totally different. We had different capabilities, likings, background but still we resonated in same frequency when it came to friendship. In actual the word friendship didn’t existed that time. We were just happy having each other company.

Usually I loved the subject science and urdu. I don’t know why but Maths at that time was a headache, and Adil was very good in Maths. Tanqueed being an average easy going student, I felt always me being in trouble when it comes to Mathematics. Things reversed 1998 onwards to me at least.

We were heavily exposed to bollywood, TVs and Comics, I don’t want to make a lie. This was a certain fact. Though our parents were a bit religious, stand on principles but they didn’t stopped us like a teacher with stick. Slowly on the way we learned and responsibilities made us to rise above the layers of art and drama. Lets face it, this is life and we carry responsibilities and expectations. Shamsi had a TV at his home and I watch mostly afternoon serials with him like Junoon, Shanti, Swabhimaan. I remember movie Raja Babu, and once I took him to Poonam cinema hall for Sunil Shetty’s starrer “Bhai”. We were in 6-9 show, and he was worried for him being asked by Alam Sir. By the way Alam Sir was Shamsi’s father, If I didn’t mentioned earlier.

Since Adil was near to my home, I generally go to his home in evening. If you ask the reason, I don’t know why? I was a seeker of inspiration and Adil had beautiful home work copies with all Maths exercise questions answered beautifully. I remember the trigonometry exercises. This was painful. He introduced me to Aarif sir, and I started learning Algebra first. I never mentioned before anywhere in my past posts, but Aarif sir did a magical teaching for me, and Maths was easy. So I solved questions on and on and completed the bharti bhawan maths book for 7th and 8th in some 6 months. I joined again the unique coaching centre. Adil had an advantage of being guided by his family in studies, especially his sieter, and I felt unfortunate sometimes.

So we three friends fought some of the times. I was a subject of Joke in carom plays. I was not a good striker, actually a bad one. So no one wanted to have a partnership with me. They purposefully made a joke of teasing me by saying “Amma”, since I was once singing the movie Bombay’s famous song Amma, Amma … I was not exposed to many things. Had came from a varying friendship experience started from Salafia School (Iqbal, me and Asad), Indira Memorial Academy (Shashi, Asad and friends), had experienced the first love, then Jamaluddin miyan, and then Zila School. I was having many friends, I forgot many but remember Adil and Tanqueed as we were not only good friends but competitors in terms of marks and achievements as well. We all got success in different fields as we were different. May Allah rise us in the final day with our good deeds in heavy proportions, and may be a good Friday evening in Jannah InshaAllah will discuss again the Zila School.

Good Wishes Shamsi for your marriage. May Allah bring peace, happiness and make you couple a source of happiness for each other.

We are lost. Are we lost? Can I relive memories?

Sunday, September 11, 2011

We are lost. Are we lost? Can I relive memories?

“Jaane chale jaate hain kahaan, duniya se jaane waale ja a ne ……”We had a small house in bibi pakar of only two rooms. This was universe for us and Mukesh song was in air. Dalton had made the emergency light’s cassette player working. I loved Mukesh’s songs, so the aroma of aangan. Little osara where sewing machine was placed nicely covered with peculiar covering. Abbu’s crockery shop existed no more, so we had good times at home with all of our family members.I had a natural advantage of being an elder brother. I loved driving NV150, LML Vespa. One of the oldest Vespa we had in Darbhanga. I went there to Tower Chowk. The place I spent my considerable childhood time at Katki bazaar shop. Stopped at magazine shop and looked at “Physics for you”.

I was in Darbhanga for Eid vacation and I written two articles for Physics for you some 2-3 months back. I was expecting them to be published. Luckily I saw the magazine and my sixth sense knocked me. Lets see if they have published it or not. I was with appijaan and Dalton I think. I saw my article published and I was out of control. Very happy, very very happy. This was the same magazine shop, where I got the first magazine “Pratiyogita Darpan”, with lot arguments from Abbujaan. I loved magazines and dreamed one day I will write my own views and this happened. I was very happy. I shown my articles to Appijaan, Dalton and Ammi. Ammi was making masala for gosht and she was very happy. How can I forget the moment? A day before Eid and I was feeling intense happiness.

We travelled in Vaishali express. Abu Bakar, Amir and one more friend i think. This was a nice journey.

The articles were on frame of references and projectile motion. Nothing more than what I learned from K K Jha. He was certainly the best teacher in my life and a turning point for me. I hope Fahd get good teachers like him.

We are lost. Are we lost? Can I relive memories?

Hassan sb’s big old home, and the family was still there. This was December 2000. They built a mosque as a sadq-e-jariyah in memory of their beloved Dad. They were my childhood friends and I missed them a lot. As we grow we loose the intrinsic love. Our education, expectations and desire keep us self centric and we realize old love, tenderness and friendship when we loose something, something special. I hope their Dad’s soul in peace and accompanied with good spirits.

We are lost. Are we lost? Can I relive memories?

Khurram Mamujaan’s sudden death, Raja bhai’s sad news and passing people. The turn for me is still to come. Will I be able to keep smiles? To keep love. How much have I helped others? This world needs more, what am I doing? There are questions, and no answers. Sometimes I come out of my shell of worldly demands, my own needs, and then I realize people who showered love to me, who helped me, my friends and eyes with love. Eyes with grave expectations, so that I will remember them in tough times, and in their happiness. Have I met them?

Year 1995, Some Water Marks …

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Life is moving fast, at least for me.

For last ten years I have no control and this was true even before, but had not experienced the way it goes.

I have settled in a friend’s room in Chandigarh. Australia trip is a month away by max. I was thinking too much before coming here and am thinking the same on the way to Australia. Bahrain trip has gone titanic fated. Allah knows my need and he is the best planner and is planning. I keep trying standing on principles and keeping my foot on straight path.

The day had no such resemblance with the year 1995, when I was in Benta at Khalajaan home. Ammi and Abbu had gone to Aligarh for medical consultations. Dalton was in Chandanpatti, plenty of mangoes and freedom. I was restricted, ping pong ball playing and Milton. Rain was just subsided and this was 5 pm. I was going unique coaching centre, crossing mirza khan talab. Mountanious graveyards, aroma out soils, fun, studious mind, a rising star, and class performance.

Doordarshan was going through a transformation phase with new serials like “Adaalat” and some more. Reporter serial was a hit. Still cable tv diarrhea was not plagued on mass level.

Chaloo sajnaa ,,,, jahaaan tak ghata chale” FM has brought some good old memories, I don’t listen to these channels but now just caught “Do lafzon ki hai dil ki kahaaani, ya hai mohabbat, ya hai jawaaani, lal lall la …”. Sometime it relaxes mind, going old reliving the era of black and white, era of movies classics, art focused and minimum vulgarity.

Footsteps. My new action shoes were making marks on muddy streets. Urdu poems in “Urdu ki nai kitaab” were fascinating. I was exhaustive thinker since I recall myself. I was always searching for chances to get a glimpse of her. Though she was not in my class, I had surpassed a class more and was now a senior. First love is what I didn’t understand, incomprehensible, sweet, pinching and more, what else. This was meant to be so, so because, if was fulfilled in relationship further, may had lost the charm. The school and then the related romances in my mind, self understood, a tragic vivid past. Saw “Mohabbatein” late in 2004, saw myself in the story, this was too late.

The same year Karan Arjun was the most discussed movie at tower chowk. Sarfaraz bhai shop of crockery was just adjacent. His shop was more rich and big than ours. In evening after noon we went to Hameed uncle shop, to enjoy the breeze blowing from east to west. There was the discussion on SRK and his future.

So the same SRK discussion was with Shaane. The name was too long Shaan-e-Mohammad, we call him Shane. In Darbhanga “Mera Bazaar” was launched and he got a mosquito repellent, I had never saw it before. His copy had Karan Arjun poster and the image I still recall.

Time passed fast, and is passing ultrafast. Very fast. Instantaneous joy and happiness were for moments, where I lived like centuries. Be it she coming down stairs smiling, my lovely wife and our moments of emotional exchanges, Dalton running down to aangan in Chandanpatti, his swelling eyes and playing little tantrums.

Footsteps. My new action shoes were making marks on muddy streets. I was singing “Tip tip barsa paani”, singing a song, moving ahead, never knew where will I stop?

Inspiration Vulnerabilities and Learning Stories

Vulnerable to get inspired. I am having the weakness of getting inspired. That’s why my appearance is changed frequently. Inspiration is what has been a source to propel myself ahead.

This was a nice evening. My small home in “Bibi Pakar Mohalla” was surrounded from three sides and we didn’t have any window to the three sides. The home was where I lived since my memory goes back. I was developing myself and advancing. Getting inspired with people around. In the end of road was Don Bosco School facing front crossing (to the opposite side of road). If i walk to left till Shoaib Manzil, crossed Zafar Sb home and there was SIO office. I was privileged to meet some great people from old SIMI when I was kid. I was offered to read “Naqli Shezada”, “Ibn-e-batoota” stories and lot more books. These books served me to develop a strong character. I wonder if coming generation will get enough time to read or not, as they are bombarded with information, innovation and technology. These forces kids of next-gen to use their mind less and being more materialistic in nature.

There were familiar faces. Iqbal was my old good friend. There I met ever cheerful Mujahid. A person I admired in first glance. He was holding “H C Verma”. “Concepts of physics” by “H C Verma” was something like Harry Potter’s flying broom in Darbhanga. Students right from early class 9th starts taming it. I had a natural inspiration to this book. Anyone talking H C Verma was thought as a genius on earth. That beautiful evening there was another person in discussion on a question from Optics, with Mujahid. The critical angle was in discussion. Mujahid’s father was a professor in Physics and he used to take coaching classes. As I developed a liking to K K Jha, so was not interested in any other teacher. Mujahid and the SIO program were a kind of ice breaker. We had similar mindset, so I, Iqbal and Mujahid along with other friends used to have SIO programs every Sunday. Some small competitions for children wing. Meanwhile when I discovered H C Verma’s English more difficult than the numericals (this is what small town kids struggle the most), I started solving “M Karim’s” numericals. Abbujan named me Newton and since childhood I was made to believe myself as a scientist. I developed a natural bias towards Mathematics and Physics. I was on.

One problem with inspiration is that you are hooked most of the times to your beloved inspiration. The time today is resonating fast. I loved Physics, the path. But I forgot, or rather I would say didn’t define an associated objective. Why I am studying this subject so deeply. Do I want to clear IITJEE, do I want to be a doctor, or what. I didn’t have the answer. I loved what I studied and I studied what I loved. A deadlock what happens in a love affair.

There happened other factors also. The love didn’t prove me to be intelligent. I was not an intelligent student. Till 10th class I was very weak in mathematics. I scored below average in Science as well. Things you love most are not where you score most. Love belongs to heart and intelligence belongs to mind. They seldom synchronize. There was a spark but not the light. I felt the tinkling heated pinch of my desires being in a turbulent storm of expectations from my parents and teachers.

“So, well you scored 42 out of 50 in physics. Quite impressive. Ok now tell me, had it been out of 100, what was the percentage?”

I was puzzled. The question was asked by one of the Physics professor of Patna Science College. I was there with Abbujaan to submit admission form. I knew for sure that 70% is not enough for Patna Science College, but I tried.

We Bihari have this attitude. We know we will fail, but we try in the name of luck. We are reasonably highly unreasonable. There was discomfort on Abbu’s face which I noticed. I didn’t answer the question for 1 minute, and professor shouted.

“Is this the candidate you people want admission in Patna Science College?”

We were there to get my photo-state marksheets attested by this professor. I was deeply insulted. Professor was very judgemental in showing instantly me being an insult to the Premium institution. And I was. Any average 8th class student could have answered this. But I was silent. I was not a hero. I was on the brink of bursting into tears. I hold. I was expecting a big lesson from Abbujaan.

Koi baat nahi beta, ye sab hota rahtahai. Mehnat keejiye aura aage nikalye (Don’t worry Son, this all happens, keep doing hard work and get ahead)”. Abbu replied with a smile.

I was not expecting this reply from Abbujaan. I just made him shameful in front of a professor. He controlled his emotion. He loved me and I knew, I felt something strong. I got a reason to come back.

Upon reaching the home, I was crying when all were sleeping. I made a pledge. I prayed to Allah. I started mathematics again. C M Sc College, year 1998-99. Five tuitions a day. Going shop to help Abba. Getting shop goods transported from transport office to our tower chowk shop. Focus on Mathematics and Physics. Memorizing biology. I was playing hard. I solved Maths and Physics mostly on our tower chowk crockery shop. Dusty clothes, patched pants, dealing customers, biology taxonomy in mind, my notebook in “Jhola (clothed bag) made by Ammi”, returning home in night on my Vespa scooter memorizing the whole day lesson. Getting satisfied. In night turning “Kerosene Lamp” on since I forgot some terms again. Catching the memories flying fast. Calculus, Algebra, Trigo, Coordinate and my Sir J L Chowdhary, Physics by charismatic master mind K K Jha, English by K K Sinha, Biology by R P Sinha, Chemistry by H N Mishra. Help from Iqbal and Mujahid and other friends. I remember enthusiastic Ghulam Rabbani as well in SIO.

I learned a lot in the year 1998-99. Morning started with Soothing beautiful Azaan. In 5 AM, Going to Physics Tution, while crossing Naka5, the rhythm of Hanuman Chalisa in background “Jai JaiJai, g   y   a  n   gursa a  agar, jai kapeesh tri lok ujagar …”, a day with college, tuitions and my shop “Darbhanga Glass House”. Azaan in Maghrib. Occasional Namaz, I was not punctual then. Home with daily sabzi in night from “Gudri Bazar”, I lived multiple lives, and I enjoyed it.

Tea and Related Stories …

Chai ? The word with a question mark. My father asked the family on a wedding shopping to our shop.

People call those days as the season of lagan ( when marriages are in high rate) in Bihar. I started going with my father to our crockery shop, to assist him in busy business days like Dhanteras (Days before Diwali), Chand-raat (Night prior to Eid), and of course in lagan days. I was then 7 years old and was actively involved in the business of crockery, Bone China, steelwares and plastic houshold items. I continued mostly with my shop named “Darbhanga Glass House” till i passed 10th class from Darbhanga. A small town in Bihar.

So the tea offered was never rejected by parties in huge shopping for dowry related items. I used to shout “Bholaaa”. Bhola sitting other side of the road quickly understood what to send and how much. The recent bollywood hits and famous “chiththi ayee hai ayee hai” by Pankaj Udaas was his favorite. Dealing customers, negotating and settling down. Shopping was totally a different way those days. Particularly in small towns. Sips of the tea, discussion and the packaging the complete items as well. The business end up knowing the customer’s village, kins and sometimes we discover the long long relationships as well. And of course the invitation card.

I never liked the tea, and wonder at that time, why people love this hot cup. I instead prefer to have ghup-chup (we call paani puri in Delhi and paani batashe in Lucknow), Falooda Kulfi and Limca those days. After a good business my father used to give my Rs 10 note. That was enough to have fun at Tower Chowk Darbhanga.

Slowly i started liking the hot cup. Sometimes occasionally i accompany customers, just to let them feel not bad. Though i was not addicted to it. There was nothing like i have not got a good cup today and am having a headache.

My uncle came to Darbhanga from Delhi in 1998. I just passed 10th that year with 70%. That was good in Bihar Board. He had discussion with me. I was fond of Physics and Maths. He forced my father to carry me to Delhi and my life changed thereon. I came Delhi and … however sometimes i think my crockery business could have made me more rich than stuck in IT companies … Well that is destiny and we cant escape.

Delhi was new to me but not the tea, and i discovered varying taste. Travelling in sleeper coach and moving along via different cities, Indian railways made me to discover a lot about tea.

In school life when cracking H C Verma numericals of Physics, i became tea addicted, slowly slowly this became a habit to have tea. After some time my headache intensity became an inversly proportional function to the tea.

These days i prefer making my own cup of tea. I see roadside dhabaas reminding me the days of Bholaa tea stall in Darbhanga. They boil the mix of water milk and tea to a cruel brutality and serve them. My way is different and is based on the philosphy ” Chai banai jati hai, pakayee nahi… (A Tea is To Make, not to Boil like vegetables)”.

Usually i prefer boiling water to its extreme and putting Tea leaves afterwards. Putting down the lids so that fragrance dont escape. Keeping the mix idle for 3 minutes. Meanwhile having cup ready with Hot milk mixed with sugar. Generally i prefer 1/4th milk and 3/4 tea water liquor. Ahhhh!!! Thats make a perfect aroma and a tea which make a day great.

I am not in the business of Taj Tea, but have excellent experience with Wah Taj.