Take a Walk.......

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

First Blog

Hi all a great welcome to you all visiting ma blog. know me know my life and the Complexity that i am called Asif.

I have alwayz been a person different in certain aspects, being very common, simple but still very different. finding myself somewhat never a part of a group or a community as such but alwayz enjoying myself in a kind of loneliness brought onto myself for some evitable and some inevitable conditions.
what has affected the most to the person i am is the movements that i've had throughout the childhood. the max time i spent in a school,college locality or even a city had been 5 years, with the current stay in Mumbai just surpassing that mark, being around 6th year. everytime i really tried to settle down with things there was a change. these changes along with the family incidences have had a great effect on ma life. i matured much earlier then others in understanding the needs and wants of living with different kin of people, their thoughts, thinking and some of their culture.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Precious gift by a Preciuos Old Man

It was an important day of the year, the results were supposed to be out. Being the best student in the house(not the school or college) , I mean scoring more than my elder brother and sister it used to be more special for me. Its simple guess why I would get a lot of pampering specially on that day that made me really watchful for that day. The best part of it always used to come from my Grandfather whom I used to call Dada. He was a proud and humble man, a man of tall stature, know for his integrity, hard work and achievements throughout his life(they were really a lot of them). At the ripe age of 90(nobody including himself was sure of it and the estimate ranged from 85 to 100) he used to walk stiff straight, with all the brightness still raging in his eyes. Every time I cleared a grade and I used to clear them pretty well, he would tell every person known to him, with a lot of pride the exact percentage I got. This year was no different, as soon as I reached home he asked for the result glanced through it saw the percentage column first, then a quick glance at the break-up. “Shabash beta”(well done son) he patted me on my back, “keep up your work and bring keep the tradition of excellence in the family” with the tears of pride in his eyes. By tradition he meant about himself and his father, he retired as a principal of a school, which was one of those he had established during his career. People still used to call him “mastersahab” or “headmastersahab” by which they loosely meant “Principal Sir”. It was a common sight to see well dressed people coming from nowhere and falling into his feet asking for blessing such was his repute.
He quickly went to momma who was in another room “Dulhan(he used to refer my momma with that name) dekha tumne hamara pota first class laya hai”(see my grandson got first class), “get me new clothes I m going out to get him a bicycle” he said. Those words were like music for me I had been asking mom for some time for a bicycle to travel to school, I jumped with joy on hearing this. Mom quipped in “it’s not necessary to get him whatever he asks for you can get him something else” to which he retorted “I had promised him to get a bicycle if he gets first class and a promise is a promise”. Momma never had a chance arguing with him rather then to do what he asked. So, in 30 minutes dadaji and betaji(obviously me) were in the cycle shop. The owner knew him well show his regards “kahiye mastersahab kya kahtir karoon”(how can I serve you sir). “Imran, my grandson has got 60.07% and I had promised him a bicycle. Take him in and give the one he wants”. Many years have passed by, dadaji’s soul is resting in peace, I have achieved much higher percentages and bought much costlier gifts since then. The bicycle’s still lying in the store- room, as I’ve grown too old to ride such a small one but, those memories don’t fade. I would have never remembered my own percentage had it not been his rendering it to people with so much of pride. I still remember that gift and those moment of pride that I managed to give my people. So much so that my eyes turn watery whenever I write down one such sweet memory. I love you dadaji

My Penchant for Singing

I have always wanted to do many a thing in my life starting from being a scientist, an army man, a banker, an industrialist and in fact if it wont be going overboard if I say I wanted to be everything that had fascinated me at any point in life. One such fascination was with singing, every time a song touched me, moved me and jerked me I would sing it all day long whenever in the mood to, sometimes loudly but mostly to myself. In cases it happened I would love the song so much I would see myself singing and performing on stage or in some concert sometimes crooning “Dil ko tumse pyaar hua” , sometimes hollering “sweet child O’mine”. The earliest memories date back to the time when I was in 7th standard, every year we used to have a singing competition, which used to be specific to each grade. The winners were awarded on the Annual Day, all this exercise fanaticized no limits, I would think of going to the stage putting up a singing performance and winning awards and accolades alike.

At the start of a particular week, during some lecture a circular came which was read to us by the teacher “The Singing, dancing ………… competitions would be held in the next ….. those who plan to participate should give their names in two days”. “Got a chance I thought, why shouldn’t I put a show this year” I kept wandering with the thought of taking part in the competition. All sorts of thoughts were crammed in “what if I take part, I have never one such a thing before, what if I flounder” and the most scary of all “would I be able to sing, am I good at”. For two whole days all such thoughts kept tormenting me, on the last day of nominations a person form the committee came asking for nominations the usual names came up Summer, Atif and a few who I don’t remember so well in a minute I had to make a final decision whether to participate or not in the hurry I did a thing at which I still laugh at when think of “hey should I sing in this competition” I asked vishal, he was obviously my classmate who sitting next to me that day. “if you wish to” he replied. “do you think I can sing well” I asked back and if I remember well I sung some song in front of him in low voice. He encouraged me to give my name, which I think he just did to make one on me. Finally, I gave my name for the competition. Now I was out of the confusion of participating or not to next one that was “what now”, being what I was a person without a great friend to bank on, a person in whose family nobody had ever done that, where such things were laughed at and not supported at all. Being more of a ‘ recluse’ at times took its toll. The month passed by slowly and the reality was dawning on me.

Finally, the day came I don’t remember the day or date at all. The competition was to be held in the ground(we had many of them in our school) behind the building in which my class was there. Students from 1st to 7th standard had gathered for what was termed as lower-secondary students singing competition (the name itself was scary long). The students were seated were on the ground, while the teachers got chairs to rest themselves.

There was a risen platform kind on pathway at the start of the ground which served as the stage since, the other students sitting at a little lower level can view the person properly.
A single microphone was kept on a stand on which the participants whose names were called came one by one and you can say they performed. The choice of songs were between patriotic, regional and songs that were not offensive in nature. But, none of this seemed to matter to me that day, as I was getting more and more anxious with every passing moment. The names were being called up one by one and now it was turn of my class. Summer was called she went up to the stage “Papa jaldi aajana” she crooned in her melodious voice, it was Atif’s turn he sung “Zindagi talash mein hum”, they were one of the most beautiful voices in the school. Suddenly, something happened that almost struck me, my name was called on the stage ‘Asif Khan from 7th B’. not understanding what to do I ducked under at my place people around me were pushing “Go, go Asif your name is being called”, but I couldn’t. “what would I doing going there I have prepared nothing” I though, the compeer was calling my name again and again. Miss Snehlata our class teacher came up to me. “Asif why don’t you go, are you not feeling well” she asked to which I nodded in affirmative, which she let know on stage.

The day’s picture still lingers through my mind pretty clearly, although I never sang in front of even one person after that for a very long time, my trials and efforts for singing did not get over there. There are still times when I would love a song so much I would be singing it whole day and dream of performing it on stage, but now at least I have one person in front of whom I can sing and I swear by god she has never frowned at me for singing. That assures me I am not that bad, saying this the hope for singing relives…..