The songs of my heart

I always wondered why people wrote all those loving messages to dead… why couldn't they express it all while the other person was still alive…but today, here I am, doing the same- perhaps because the logic takes a backseat when emotions take over. Prof.Kamalakant Parab passed away. Parab sir, as he was commonly known among his students, was (and will always be) the most lovable person known to me. Sir taught us Hindi in the higher secondary school. He was a delight to the 16-17 year olds who had just crossed a threshold in their academic and personal lives. With those caring words, never fading smile, cheerful laughter and the voice- Oh! That voice! Most of us thought sir sang like Rafi. I remember the night in our college trip where in one antakshari round I had completely lost my heart to that voice. Those different camp fire songs which he taught us during the NSS camp, that energy and enthusiasm which took over all of us, and the fun we had together! Sir...

“What’s the punishment for a man who takes away a woman’s life while she is still alive?” Screams a poster on the wall behind the counter. I am waiting for my sandwich at the counter of a leading food outlet when I hear this conversation: Customer :  “did you get that poster printed?” Counter guy : “no… they gave it to us to display, the Times of India people” Customer :  " oh! These posters and all won’t work, u see… NO action will be taken against the   culprits. “kkay faaydo na tacho! Haav sangta nhi” Counter guy :  "Seriously! Those babus in Delhi won’t be moved by anything at all. I’m telling you… Sheila Dixit’s or some other minister’s daughter should get raped someday. Then u see, how action is taken” Well… the conversation must have continued but I couldn’t hear more. I went numb. So the anger is oozing, alright. But is this how the men in my country give vent to their anger? “Sheila Dxit’s or some minister’s daughter should get raped someda...