A Birthday Wish to My Wife

As years pass by of my togetherness with my wife, I continue to discover new pleasures and new meanings of happiness. Wishing a Happy Birthday to Jyotsna.

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A Happy Birthday to the anchor of my life. To the one who has given a new meaning to fulfillment  happiness and contentment. I wish the best to the woman, who raised the standards of my way of life from mere existence to one of sophisticated social mien. I wish the finest and the best that life has to offer to my wife of nearly a quarter of a century, to the beacon in my journey through life, to the mother of my children and to my soul-mate  One who would hold my hand in days of despair as if the same pain stabbed her heart too, jump with joy at my achievements as if they were her own, console me in times of distress, teach me how to bring up our children, deal with ease with relatives and friends benign and hostile. One who would be equally happy in the salary of the third pay commission and of the sixth pay commission. One who would wear a chikan kurta and a solitaire with equal aplomb and satisfaction. One who would be equally understanding in a tiny type IV flat with Spartan belongings and in large bungalow with her antique collection of high class furniture. One who would watch a 20-inch single channel television with as much glee as she watches a 50-inch plasma with today.

In a few months we complete twenty five years of togetherness on this planet, a period which undoubtedly surpasses the previous twenty five years in cheer and bliss, a period which whizzed past so quickly it has left me breathless and makes me crave for another quarter century and then yet another. They say there are seven lives a couple gets to spend with each other. I only hope that my cycle has just begun and will not end at the seventh.

Jyotsna! Wish You Many Happy Returns of the Day.

Last Name Conundrum

My parents decided in my childhood that I shall have no surname (or lastname, as the Americans call it). Little did they know how, in a flat world, it will make my life a constant struggle.

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Having lived with a last name for over a year in Facebookville, an inescapable appendage in this two-name world, I have finally recovered my pristine identity of Firstname Nolastname variety. Since facebook and several other faceless websites just wouldn't let you progress to the next "field" without filling up a last name, I had no option to assume one, my father's of course.

But after several people commented and asked whether it was the same me (!) I finally decided to challenge Lord Zuckerburg himself. That I did it when his chips (literally the stock of his company) are down and quoting below $20 is no coincidence. Rather than angering a valuable member, on whose shoulders he sell everything ranging from women's perfumes to luxury yachts, paper-clips to cat-food, he quickly succumbed and agreed to let me drop my surname. That I submitted a scanned copy of my passport, signed by a mere section officer of the passport office helped too. Imagine Zuckerburg vs the Section Officer; and who wins? The mighty Babu of the supermighty Government of India.

So friends, here I am, at your service again. The same "Shubhranshu" that you knew all along and not a stranger "Shubhranshu Verma". It is springtime once again!

DARA SINGH

Dara Singh, the Original Superman to all Indians, passed away on 12 July 2012. He has left behind an entire generation of men and women, who in their childhood, loved this man and adored him for his boundless strength. Indeed, Dara Singh was the substitute for all that we as a society and a nation, in the dismal decades of sixties and seventies, longed for - strength and courage.

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Dara Singh is dead, long live Dara Singh!

Dara Singh, the eternal superhero of our time, the object of all our childhood fantasies of the ultimate in strength and power, is no more. Even though he had passed away unnoticed into the noisy alleys of the modern era of fake heroes and animated supergiants, he remained an object of admiration in our subconscious, something our children and grandchildren will never understand.
Wasn’t Dara Singh always on the side of every child? If you fought with someone, you presumed that Dara Singh would side with you because your cause was always right. India lost the war with China, simply because our army did not deploy the ultimate war machine, Dara Singh against the foes. Wouldn’t he alone have decimated single-handedly the mighty PLA? Wouldn’t he have been an impregnable moving frontier against the marauding Chinese, their tanks and aircraft, their guns and grenades? Well, they corrected their mistake and sent Dara Singh to the front when the Pakistanis attacked us in 1965 and in 1971.

Dara Singh was the Superman, the Batman, the Spiderman all rolled into one. He was also the single-body incarnation of the Phantom, the Lothar and the King Kong. The icon of our imagination, where puny fighter like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mike Tyson and Sylvester Stallone would qualify for only valets of the greatest, the mighty Dara Singh. The WWE and the World Wrestling and Boxing Championships would be mere sideshows in the presence of our protector, fighter and guardian. Children of today, whose software heroes live in PS3, Wii and in Cartoon Channels would find it impossible to comprehend that a bigger hero did exist in flesh and blood, the hero of their fathers and grandfathers, one who could never be excelled or defeated, one who was larger than the combined lives of the Hulk, the Hellboy and Keanu Reeves.

Dara Singh of our imagination was not only unbeatable in strength but also in virtues and the do-good intentions. He could always be counted upon to come and vanquish your enemies (frenemies?). After all weren’t you always right and deserved his support most naturally. But, Dara Singh disappointed us all when he took up those lover-boy roles beside the demure Mumtaz! I guess every macho hero has his weaknesses too. So, I and my friends decided to forgive Dara Singh with heavy hearts. O Dara Singh! Why didn’t you wait some years more? You could have had the entire trio of Charlie’s Angels, who would not only be as beautiful but also of an equal fighting class.

Dara Singh! Now that you are gone, “the fight has gone out of our lives”.
We will miss you Dara Singh!