Monthly Archives: November 2012

The spirited Bharti



What would people say to me if I told them that I came across this handless girl who could write more beautifully than me. They wouldn’t believe me but I photographed her as she wrote some Hindi sentences on a piece of paper. Not only that, the young lady surprised me when she had a glass of water all by herself, when with the help of a spoon was able to eat spaghetti and little later took off her socks. She doesn’t need to be pitied, she’s quite independent and she’s only twelve. This alluring young lady’s name is Bharti Saini and she comes from a small town called Ramnagar (India)


Imagine most of us who are blessed with every part of the body and we still wish we had Bambi like eyes, a straight nose etc etc. Bharti, lost her hands while she was cutting grass and boom! a landmine exploded and before she could realize the impact of the catastrophic incident, the poor girl was devoid of the most important part of the body. But this brave girl didn’t lose hope, didn’t immerse in self pity instead she took life pretty normally. She laughs a lot especially when she sees Jerry troubling Tom or when she talks about monkeys-“how ugly they look,” remarked Bharti. She went on telling me the difference between a lion and a tiger and that she is not afraid of ghosts and maths.


Bharti is blessed as she is being helped by Lotus Flower Trust, a UK based charity which operates in rural India and is committed to the cause of helping the poor and the destitute. Through their schools, orphanages and skill centers, the charity headed by Mr. John Hunt has helped thousands of young hopes realize their potential.


Tomorrow, she will be embarking on a life changing experience which will provide her with  artificial hands. That would be her first time in an aeroplane as well.


Diwali- The festival of lights


I am not much of a photographer……actually taking pictures is not my cup of tea. Nonetheless, I love clicking and on the occasion of the festival of Diwali- a pious Hindu festival……this little Satan (atheist) had a wonderful time taking pictures, featuring on the main theme of the festival, i.e.., the lights. Hence, Diwali is also called the festival of lights.

Here are few of my pictures:


The above picture is of an oil lamp called diya in India which is made from clay, with a cotton wick dipped in vegetable oil or ghee.




The second picture is that of some cracker. I loved this one, it looks like a gold necklace (that’s how a girl will always like to describe)


This one was my favourite click.


This particular cracker is called anar, I don’t know for what reason though.


That’s all folks. Hope u enjoyed the pics of self proclaimed- failure photographer.

I am born in the wrong era.


Sometimes I wonder whether I am born in the wrong era. 1990 was that great year when this little Lucifer by the name of Mozzy was born. There are plenty of reasons as to why I feel this way and I need to confess my feelings to somebody. Better I tell it to strangers than people I know will pull my leg. 

Firstly, my generation doesn’t supply you with as good looking men as was the case in 1950s -1980s. Generally, my list of crush includes:


Secondly, some of favourite singers includes:



Thirdly, my favourite writers include:



My favourite sports personality




Hence, I am born in the wrong era.

A letter to my French Teacher.




To Sir with love

Cher Monsieur,


I don’t know how to begin this letter. Which sentence should I write first? Hmmm, that’s a lot to think but how about< Comment tu t’ appelle?> that is the first sentence you taught us in French. The most important one would be <Tu as quel age>, I can ask this very innocently to a good looking French gentleman if I ever get to visit France. 

I miss the jokes you often cracked on me and my sister told me how startled were you when she told you that Mozzy has got a job and so she will have to discontinue with her classes. Your gesture touched me because it was for the first time in two years that I felt cared for and wanted. You never once frowned and scolded….you had been so patient and gentle with a dumb lot like us. A very good teacher- my #1 teacher. Even when I used to talk or disturb, you politely used to say <sil vous plait> But the very words had impact and I – the class clown used to keep quiet. Teachers have scolded me previously but I had always found a way  to do something mischievous.

You are very a cute looking old man, adventurous- I mean you have been to Amazon, did you just tell me that you caught piranha there, not to mention you have tried sky diving, paragliding and what not.  Rechercher dans crocodiles et anacondas; piranha essayer la peche en amazonie>,  I remember my winning line that made our group the best in the french class. (I am such a show off)

I know Khan Market in Delhi is known for the best Chocolates but do try Wengers at Connaught Place. If you visit Mussoorie try Chick Chocolate. 

Initially, I never wanted to learn French and my sister got me enrolled but now that I have dropped I am left with such a wonderful feeling that how even learning nine- ten simple sentences and grammar of some new language can make you feel so special, touched, spirited and now I am running out of synonyms and adjectives but most of all happy. 

I wish I could continue and I may come back. 

Tu me manques

ce qui concerne,







A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he’ll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary? – Marley and Me

No matter how troublesome your dog is but when he leaves you for good, you are left with much more than just a sinking feeling……….isn’t it soul shattering? It is terrible to lose someone special because the days you felt desolate and alone; nobody but your dog came running to you and giving you the wettest, sloppiest kiss.

This write up is dedicated to my dogs- Tracy (male, German Shepherd), Duchess (female, Doberman), Jeanie (female, crossbreed), Sweetie (female, German Shepherd), Duke (male, Labrador mixed with some other breed) and finally Bruno (American Spits). They all were the most beautiful ‘people’I came across and none of them is anymore. But we do have the latest addition, his name is Crafty (He is Satanic but very affectionate and playful).

I remember Duke came running to me, he jumped on me and gave me the wettest, sloppiest kisses when I was crying at 12:00 am. Duke was a very aggressive dog, he was someone to be feared for he was famous for his biting- he hardly barked. Nobody loved him, he was the poor misunderstood dog who had loads of warmth and love to share. He is still misunderstood but I could always see in his two watery eyes, the message he wanted to share.

” You can be beaten ( and you know the moment when you are) but never ever be broken.” 

Sweetie was a big burly, hairy Shepherd. Don’t go by her description, she was a saint, an angel and a good mother to Duke and Bruno (although she wasn’t their biological mother). Her death came as a shock, totally unexpected- she ate something poisonous. She left behind something, her obedience, discipline and above all her compassion, touched me.

” In the end, it’s your warmth and grace that will make a difference.” 

This dog was crazy for his bone, he was cute as hell and conceited about his looks. Kids adored him, he looked like a toy puppy and with his expressions he could get anything. I loved this petite canine, no matter he was adjudged as conceited, boring mutt. Whenever I felt like playing and teasing somebody, I could always count on Bruno.

“Happiness comes in small packets”

Though, I wasn’t very close to Jeanie but she was certainly funny, a little aggressive. Once she was cat- walking on the the balcony railing and fell down. She was saved by a tree but I never knew her as a dog befriending cats. Another time, she pissed on the vet when he gave her an injection. She was wild, crazy one hell of a dog but lovely.

“The truth is you don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed.”

She was the Duchess of the dogs world….she was the gentlest princess and beautiful Doberman. She was shy and snuggly snuggly types. Although she was part and parcel of the family before I was born so I don’t remember much about her except that she gave birth to a litter and she got annoyed while playing with my brother, so she jumped on delicate me (that time) and I started howling. Poor thing we siblings scared her but after five minutes she forgot everything and started playing again and this time I joined too.

“Being gentle and shy doesn’t mean you are not strong….it means you are stronger.”


He was the legendary dog….king of the kings. He listened to nobody, was destructive and everybody’s favourite and especially children hailed him as their savior. For example, he wouldn’t let mummy or anybody scold me or my siblings or any kids. He always wanted water from the fridge, he knew where cold water comes from. He rejected each and every biscuit, only the creme ones he loved. So we didn’t give him biscuits. Tracy knew what day is the Sunday, he always got a treat on Sunday. Tracy even knew the days when vet would come and he had great hiding places. He played with my toy dog – a battery operated toy which somersaulted and barked. I dare not touch my toy when Tracy played with him. How unfair!!! He broke almost everything at house but he was legendary.

“As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do.”



A lot of life from dogs