A Thousand Splendid Suns

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs,

And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls…







No, this is not a description of Venice or praise for Prague. It is the illumination of Khaled Hosseini’s love for his city, Kabul. This poem is not Hosseini’s. It was written by a 17th century Persian poet, Saib-e-Tabrizi. But Hosseini’s context has given a new horizon to these lines, the story of a country, once beautiful, called Afghanistan.

For those of you who are wondering why all about Kabul and Afghanistan out of the blue, I just happened to read this striking novel by Hosseini – A Thousand Splendid Suns. His second, a follow-up to The Kite Runner. Or you could say its female counter-part. The story revolves around two Afghan women from contrast backgrounds. Mariam, an illegimate child, is brought up by her mother alone on the outskirts of Herat. Throughout her childhood, her mother makes her imbibe that a woman is only meant to suffer; that she should ready herself for a life full of affliction. On the other hand, Laila is born in Kabul, in the era when Afghanistan is under the rule of communist Soviets. Her father believes that his daughter, and every other Afghan girl, deserves a life devoid of any restrictions. Laila is educated in an A-grade school with her communist teachers always imposing the importance of literate women. Because of this root cause, there is a vast gap between their perceptions of life. Although, there is a striking resemblance in their lives – they both have suffered a great loss, before giving up on the hope of life. In the most unexpected turn of events, though despised by both of the women, they find themselves entangled in each other’s lives. And then, they revive their fates which they thought were long, never ending, and miserable stories until then. Initially they are the like poles of a magnet – hating each other. But soon they realize that they are the only company for each other in their otherwise forgotten life. But still their anguish hasn’t ended. Finally they resolve to fight back and gain the life they deserved far back, and are almost successful, but still one last great loss is in waiting. It is a well paced story with a balanced composure of everything – characters, emotions, facts and twists. The backdrop keeps changing from the communist rule in Afghanistan, to the mujahideen warlords, till the extradition of the Taliban. But one thing is common in these epochs – violence. The various wars that are going on in Afghanistan since a long time and their consequences on the Afghan people are brilliantly illustrated by Hosseini. I hope I have told enough of the plot to make you feel like reading the book, and not so much that you have now lost the interest. Whatever, I liked the book and here’s the proof – I am writing about it. It will be a great comprehension for you as well.

There is something else in this book apart from the story that captured my attention. That is Hosseini’s portrayal of his country. Afghanistan is, most of the times, regarded as a backward Islamic nation. It is said to be the cradle of inhuman Taliban and terrorists, a land of emotionless people with no culture and civilization. It is not so. Afghanistan has an ancient history and various timelines of different civilizations. It has been home to various people – Aryans, Pashtuns, and Persians to name a few. Because of its prime geographical location, it has also been conquered by the greats of history – Alexander, Arabs, Turks and the mighty Genghis Khan who brought Afghanistan under Islamic rule. Even in recent times, it has faced invasions from the British, the Soviets and the USA. Many of us might not be aware that Afghanistan is believed to be the birthplace of Zoroastrianism. Buddhism flourished here during the Mauryan rule. Two giant statues of Buddha, dating back to 1st century BC, once stood in the valleys of Bamiyan. Unfortunately, they were destroyed by the Taliban, who did not believe in idol worship. In the 1970’s, Afghanistan was under the communist Soviet rule. This was the time when modern ideas came to Afghanistan. Women empowerment and new-age education started spreading. But these were not welcomed by all, and hence while major political parties cherished these changes, certain groups started opposing them. This is where the US saw an opportunity to weaken the Soviets in a cold war strategy. In 1979, the US began to covertly fund and train the anti government Mujahideen forces through the ISI. The war between Soviets and mujahideens saw many chapters before the Soviets withdrew. US, after this ideological victory, showed very little interest in rebuilding a war ravaged Afghanistan or taking care of it. The nation was left entirely to the mujahideen, which were now fighting amongst themselves for power. Thus the ultimate victorious Mujahideen group formed the Taliban and ruled Afghanistan till 2001. Yes, the Taliban was a by product of the US assisting the ISI in Pakistan. Then onwards, Afghanistan started earning infamy for the treatment of women, banning of every form of art, burning books except Koran and education of nothing but religion. Taliban were opposed to any non Islamic religion flourishing in Afghanistan, knowing that they destroyed the archeologically precious Buddha statues. After the September 2001 attacks, the US invaded Afghanistan and a war erupted again. The Taliban was kicked out of Afghanistan in 2001, but still there are a little signs of them surfacing a little here and little there even today. But post-Taliban, the ‘Republic of Afghanistan’ is on its way to progress – cultural, civil and economical.

This is the hope conveyed by Hosseini in the final pages of the book. This is what he wants for the people of Afghanistan, who have had much more than their share of torment through the years. For those who have seen the movie Kabul Express, you might remember when the Afghan asks the Talib “What did you get by ruining this beautiful country?” Indeed, Afghanistan was beautiful. The years of violence have left it like a torn book – ravaged and lost. But it still has not defeated the soul of the country, its people. That’s the most beautiful part of Afghanistan which is still up and running. The task lying ahead of them, rebuilding Afghanistan, is massive. But they have exactly what they need – a lion’s heart. Instead of blaming the powers of the world for their misery (which is their right), they are on their way to raise themselves to such a level that there won’t be any need of blaming anymore. That is the long story unfolded in just above 350 pages. A story every human could identify with. A story of a wounded country, with hopes of living on....

India under attack

This is definitely not going to be a pleasant week for us. 8 blasts in Banglore yesterday and 17 in Ahmedabad today. Seventeen! Couple of months ago, there were 7 blasts in Jaipur too. This inhuman slaying is not new for us. Terrorism. Bomb-blasts. Massacre. We have been facing it since time I remember. But every time, it brings a surge of anger, distress and helplessness with it. Then the rescue work begins. I salute those people who unselfishly and gallantly take part in this highly honourable work. Be it taking the count of the dead, helping the injured to the hospitals, clearing the rubble, looking out for other live explosives, defusing it or maintaining calm. Be it the police, the firebrigade, the army, the IB, the bomb-defusing squad or the common man. Be it Mumbai, Delhi, Varanasi, Jaipur, Banglore or Ahmedabad. The spirit of the country surfaces.


Then the call for peace is made. Various big shot politicians codemn the incident and offer condolences. I have never understood which politician will stand up and say "I support this act." Why does it always hit the headlines if some leader codemns it. What's so great about it? Then come the blame games. The ruling. The opposition. This all in the time when the common man is in dire circumstances. But the most disturbing part is the amplifier for this terror - the media. Except for a few news channels ( I really thank them), all I could remember is watching some action stuff or horror stories on an entertainment channel. I have been noticing the fucking (so-called) news for quite some time on these channels. Dhoni changes his hairstyle. Yuvraj and Deepika. Malfunctioning wardrobes. Love story of tigers. Mr. Bachchan gets his ass out of the bed. What use can we make of it? Is it going to change my life? Yesterday, today or on any of those sad days all I could see on these channels was a retarded arse yelling in a high pitch voice what had happened and speculating (baslessly, of course) that what could happen. Then some loud, agonal music along with a fiery animation filled with images of the event would follow. I could only switch channels only to see more of this stuff before listening to some sensible news. I am now really worried about the state of media in India. Media is supposed to give news - like news, not like some prime time show. I could sense that these channels are magnifying the fear of the already terrorised people. If India is under attack, these channels make it sure that its effects will last well beyond they are intended to. This is because the people trust media, who is the only one they can after their leaders falter. Pray, tell me, how come a person watching Aaj Tak (another of those fucking menaces, fantasy-minded speculators meant to intimidate people ,why don't they ban this channel?) can ever feel at ease, with this spread of "passive" terrorism? They create a scenario which may make people think that their very own country is not a good choice to stay in anymore; not that I consider such people blameless. As I said, except for a couple of news channels, I feel the massive power of media is either wasted or misused. But media does posses the rare power of 'influence', which when used rightly, can make decisions, can shape the future, can build a nation. It is high time the media realises its responsibility and gets back in the endeavour. It is not too late for the job.


It may seem like, at this moment, as I write, my emotions are riding over my senses. Maybe it is because of my young blood, or the realisation of another failed power, or an indescribably blissful urge to open the eyes of the innocent masses for their rights. Maybe it is because of the respect for the truthful self-acceptance of ignorance and scorn for the phony misguidance. Maybe it is because of the feeling of standing up against the exploitation of trust. Maybe it is because I am always like this, when it comes to my home, my people, my country.

Wasted Years

So understand, don't waste your time
always searching for those wasted years.
Face up, make your stand,
and realise you are living in the golden years....

                                                       - Iron Maiden



According to me, there are two categories of people in this world. One, those who believe everything happens for a reason; that all the entities existing in this universe have a purpose to serve. Second, those who believe that everything happening around is just another coincidence; one’s presence in a particular situation is a mere concurrence. Well, I categorically belong to the first category. But I do not question the other stand. This belief is like faith – you have to respect others’ as well. I am no expert on this controversy; there must have been countless debates over this topic in the world. Every religion speaks of it – taking either of the sides. These ideas, obviously as expected, have certain similarities and differences. Speaking about differences is not my cup of tea. The similarities, on the other hand, are the most experienced.

How many times have I asked myself – what am I doing here? Probably the count goes beyond my knowledge of numbers. For different people, for different situations, the ‘here’ in the question is, of course, different. But in the end, it refers to the same pinnacle of redundant confusion; sometimes sarcastically, sometimes in the hope for an answer. Just give a thought to this – when you are thinking about something negative that has happened in your past, you are making this very moment a sad one as well. Unfortunately, unlike mathematics, two negatives do not make a positive in life. One more negative memory, one more wasted moment in your life. It is but natural for human beings to waste time. I know that is not good. But what is worse is, cribbing about how I wasted my time then. Probably that is the worst way to waste time, in case the process of wasting time has degrees. Every person in this world would have had, at least once in his life, the serious apprehension of what he is up to. Instead, why don’t you just say – ‘Ok, whatever happened was past, I cannot change it. But the present is in my hands. This is the best time of my life.’ Believe me; this will do wonders for you. You must have heard the old saying – Past is history. Future is unseen. Today is a gift, and that is why we call it ‘present’.

I might sound like a hypocrite, giving unsolicited advice which I myself don’t follow. But hey, just tell me how do you feel when you flip through an album of your old friends. Bliss, isn’t it? That is because of the moments ‘you’ created. Decide for yourself – how do you want your today to be remembered tomorrow – something you’ll look back with regret, or something which will bring the urge within you to relive these moments again. Ultimately, it all boils down to you, my dear fellas. At this point, I would like to quote a line by Rajesh Khanna in Anand – Life should not be long, it should be big. How true. What is the use of a long life if you have nothing to look back and smile upon, shed tears and be proud of? Only you have the right to decide the course of your life. So, my sincere advice – Stop wasting time and start ‘goldenising’ it. Because life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away….

Six-String

Its time. Once again. As I step out of Bhargava’s, my excitement is at its pinnacle. Another new chapter in my life. Something I wanted to do since ages. Now I see it all concur. I start to walk my way back with ‘the thing’ on my back. I still cannot believe it. Yes, my first guitar!!

When was the first time I thought of having a guitar? I was in the first year, and I was fascinated by the beauty of the instrument. A couple of seniors were practicing for their show and I was one among the spectators who were as enthralled as I was. I could not play the guitar then. But I am a trained tabla player, and many people in college knew that. And the very next day, one of those guitarists, his name is Rohan, came to me and asked whether I would play with him. Of course, I was more than happy to be a part of some band. The practice sessions began. A guitarist and a tabla player don’t quite form a band, but nonetheless, it was a humble beginning. We needed a vocalist and we auditioned a few. It was really an enriching experience. I got a chance to see what amazing hidden talents people posses that hardly get any exposure. In those days, I got to know Rohan and his abilities. He was an ace guitar player. Not that he could play the more difficult stuff, but whatever he played was flawless, practiced to perfection. This generated in me an ever increasing urge to learn the magical instrument. The sound of those strings made my mind its home. I asked Rohan many times to teach me. And being such a music enthusiast himself, he always taught me some basics, some cool stuff. As expected, I sucked at playing even those easy parts he taught me. Rohan did give me his guitar for a few days to practice. But I realized I have to have a guitar of my own if I wanted to learn. But there was the universal problem – money. I did not want to involve my parents’ money in my decision. I did my best to raise enough funds – shelled out my savings, sold my old books, curtailed on my expenses – but in vain. Somehow, my dream still remained a dream.

Through my four years of engineering, there was never a moment when I did not aspire to have a guitar. I had the tabla when I was 12. That was my first instrument. I still have it and, I must say, I am still pretty good at it. The way music changes your life is amazing. And to play one of its magical manifestations is a heavenly experience. I started listening to more guitar stuff and gained more knowledge about it. I met many more guitarists in college and started attending their jam sessions. They were simply mind-blowing. My interest kept soaring like a fighter jet. Again in my final year, I was a part of the band. The members were new this time. But the energy they showed was too awesome for words. The band was a success. That was the last time I played in college. In those last days, I resolved to myself that I would not let this dream die. I will learn guitar someday. And everyday I hoped that day would come soon.

And that day has come now, almost a year after I left college. I got my guitar last Saturday. It is a Pluto f-cut. Yes, it was hard to wait for all these months, but there was no alternative. Unlike many other dreams of mine, I did not want to sacrifice on this one. Finally, it has paid off. My guitar classes will be beginning tomorrow and I am much more than excited about it. And I can see myself playing the guitar like a rock star. I pledge to God, I pledge to myself that I will never give up on this quest of mine. A year has six seasons. A guitar has six strings. These strings will unquestionably make my life out of the ordinary just like the seasons spice up the year. Rock on, baby! I have got my first real six string….

Miracle

It was the usual end of a weekday for me. Done with my routine work, I packed my stuff and left for home. Took the accustomed bus home. The ride was no different - Packed with countless people just like me, going home after a tiring day. After an hour’s journey, I got down at my stop. It is some 15 minutes walk from my home. I had just began the walk when I felt that something was pleasantly different. I felt my skin react to it as it is used to, year after year. Something that was not at all new, but is welcomed with the same enthusiasm every time. Something that every one waits for eagerly. Something that I wait for eagerly. Yes, here come the first rains!

It was just yesterday. It took me another couple of seconds to really believe that it was raining. People started scattering for shelter. Vendors and hawkers tried their level best to keep their stuff safe. The fragrance of the wet soil – aha, not the best of attars can compete with it – refreshed the tired me. Soon, the roads were wet and shining, vehicles with their wipers at work and bike riders slowing down their speeds to a safe level. Well, what was I doing then? Nothing. I just kept walking. I just let the rain do its job. I just let it drench me. And I was enjoying every bit of it. My clothes were all soaked and heavy. I was wet and cool. The mild winds on my wet body felt so blissful that I wondered how I could possibly spend the rest of the 8 months without the rains. The roads were soon almost void of people. Only a few fanatics like me were enjoying the natural showers. I was still listening to the music on my cell phone. Then, probably the most apt song for the situation came up in the list. Turn the page by Metallica. I could actually feel the lyrics.

Here I am - on the road again
There I am - up on the stage
Here I go - playing star again
There I go - turn the page

Yes, I did feel like a star, walking alone on the road, wet and cheerful. I did not feel like going home. So I was out there, enjoying the change in weather. Nothing can compare the joy when you have some one special with you for the first rains. I have been welcoming the rains for years now. Every first rain brings with it the loneliness that wraps up my heart. I yearn to tell that special someone that the rains have come. I yearn to make that special someone listen to the song of the first rain. I yearn to be with that special someone, just to have a look at her when the first rains touch her. I believe there is someone out there who feels the same way as I do, who has the same yearning as I do, who believes in God as I do.

With these thoughts in my mind, I walked towards home. My mom saw me and smiled. Perhaps, she saw the child in me, still wanting to be out there. Before going in, I turned back to have a last look at the attraction of the evening. The Rain Gods were still showering their blessings. Children were out there in their cute little raincoats and umbrellas, their parents shouting instructions from the windows. A couple was just around the corner celebrating the romantic scenario gifted to them by nature. I smiled. Really, God must be a magician. He just has to put on one of his miracles to make us aware of the so many already out there.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

Well it has been over 18 months since I wrote my last blog. And naturally, I have forgotten my old login id and password. Hence the new blog space. Feels great to be in the groove once again. For all you guys and gals who are not updated on me, I have graduated with flying colours (the colours really flew when I saw the results), and now working with L&T InfoTech as one of those boring geeks - software engineers. My school life had just started to be fun when it was time to leave the school. But I never ever separated from my school friends. They are with me, even today. But over the past few months I had had quite a few new experiences. College life is heaven. And I realized it the moment I finished my final exam paper. That was one of the last days I spent with all of my college friends together. There were those rare moments where tears were shed. Can God be so cruel to separate us and end those days of endless fun? Maybe yes. Maybe no. We hardly get to speak now, let alone meet. All of us have been now gobbled up by the sophistication of life. We are destined to separate, that is God’s way of making us realize what friends mean to us. Perhaps, and I hope from the bottom of my heart, we are destined to meet again, and relive those long lost moments. My only solace now are the countless photographs, of that very bunch of people who never even thought that these moments would eventually be reduced to mere memories, that bring both smiles and tears to me. But I agree with those who say God is fair. While it was time to say goodbye to some of the old buddies, I came across a lot of new ones. The new phase in life began – my first step in L&T InfoTech training course and I was among all new faces – apprehensive, just like me. I never realized when I became a part of them. I had to be, I used to be with them for 12 hours a day. I never felt I was at office. It was always fun, even if it was work. My college life seemed to have extended for a few more months. 12 hours a day at work never turned out to be dull. I was one of those late comers in the batch and was (in)famous for that. Also I was one of those who find it hard to defy gravity when it comes to their eyelids. My friends really took good care of me or else I would have been out of job for now. The days went by swiftly and soon we realized that something unwanted was creeping back, something scary, something that was most hated – the moment of separation. Not again. Oh God, I was just out of it. Why are you doing this? The answer was the same – we were destined to separate. I realized that the sorrow of separation is somewhere related to the fear of not meeting again. Is that true? I hope I am wrong this time. But there have been very few instances to prove me wrong so far. Is my faith in destiny justified enough? My heart is still searching for an answer. Another new chapter in life – got posted at the office where I thought the people ‘actually’ work. The cycle repeats. Many more new friends, each having history of friends not much different than me. Yes, few old friends with me this time – a little comfort. But soon every one got busy with work. Those moments of fun seemed distant. My workplace offered no work for me for almost 7 months. And there were many like me. I can thankfully manage to squeeze out those precious moments where everyone laughs with me. I have got a few seniors who treat me like a younger brother. I know the words are easy to read and write, but to implement and experience, it is a different story. I have now got amazing friends where in we have non stop chats, loud laughs and fun. The college is not yet out of me – and I never want it to be. I like to move around from cubicle to cubicle meeting friends. I like when a friend drops in at my cubicle with a cute smile even if it is just to say hi. I like those short and long cubicle conferences that are built around utter nonsense. I like to have my luxurious afternoon nap on my desk. And I like even more if it is disturbed by a friend for no reason. I now know that even these days won't last long. There would be that moment of seperation again, that pain again, those tears again. I may say I am ready to face it this time, but it is really tough. Five years from now, I can see these small, fun-filled moments running through my mind - those happy memories which will remind me of the great tresures I had at one point of time. In short I can say that my experiences have taught me one of life’s greatest lessons – a human is in need of friends throughout his life. That is what makes him humane. God gives him the freedom of choosing his friends. That is why they are so close – the chosen ones. Lucky me. I have got the most amazing friends in the world. I do not remember ever regretting someone’s friendship. Wherever I went, I was accepted as a friend unconditionally. Thank you my friends, for embellishing my life. Thank you for encouraging me to start writing again. This one is dedicated to all of you, wherever you are. Dil Chahta Hai, Kabhi Na Beete Chamkeele Din Dil Chahta Hai, Hum Na Rahein Kabhi Yaaron Ke Bin Din Din Bhar Ho Pyaari Baatein Jhoome Shaame, Gaaye Raatein Masti Mein Rahe Dooba Dooba Hameshaa Samaa Humko Raahon Mein Yoonhi Milti Rahein Khushiyaan Jagmagaate Hain, Jhilmilaate Hain Apne Raastein Yeh Khushi Rahe, Roshni Rahe Apne Waaste Jahan Ruke Hum, Jahan Bhi Jaayein Jo Hum Chaahein, Voh Hum Paayein Masti Mein Rahe Dooba Dooba Hameshaa Samaa Humko Raahon Mein Yoonhi Milti Rahein Khushiyaan Kaisa Ajab Yeh Safar Hai, Socho To Har Ik Hi Bekhabar Hai Usko Jaana Kidhar Hai, Jo Waqt Aaye, Jaane Kya Dikhaaye