Leonard Nimoy obituary: Adieu Captain Spock!

Pointy ears, upturned eyebrows, a smile that reached his eyes – Leonard Nimoy's spock is perhaps the most known and loved screen character of all times.

His death means an end of an era for so many in the world.

'Star Trek' is the benchmark of all science fiction work on-screen since its first season on TV and subsequent movies. People have grown up on it. We have cheered for Spock in his many adventures.

Talai, Himachal Pradesh: Travelling into the cloud factory

When the cottony clouds overcast the skies, remember wanting to reach out to them, plucking them out and eating them like cotton candy? Remember lying on the grass and looking up with your friends trying to plant stories, finding bunnies and dragons in the shapes of floating clouds? What if you could touch them in real?

Driving into a village called Talai, near Fagu was like climbing the stairway to heaven, and reaching paradise, sitting on the clouds.

A few miles from Kufri (the famed ski destination in Himachal Pradesh), this little hamlet is straight out of a Ruskin Bond book. A total of five houses strewn around the mountain top, in the middle of an apple orchard, a family with little children who walk down to school every day and a big mountain

Meet Frida Kahlo!

For those who know me in RL, they would know I got a dog recently. She goes by the name Frida Kahlo Kukur (named after the painter and the fact that she is a black dog -Free 'da' Kalo Kukur)

We adopted her from this lovely couple who stay in a farmhouse near chhatarpur. A gaddi pup, she is going to be massive. But a big dog for big people like us is I guess apt.

Beautiful as she is – this one does behave a quite a lot like a cat much to my frustration. But also that gives me the kind of space I could not have hoped for from another dog. Ram milaye jodi for us!

It is fun to see Stupendous man take up responsibility. He tries really hard. Most of the time getting annoyed after she refuses to eat vegetarian rice and pumpkin (partly also because she is teething), or when she munches on his bathroom slippers.

Even more fun when he gets jealous of me, after Frida follows me around the entire house like a tail – no matter what I am doing!

My friends have started coming home to meet me and stupendous man (but actually we are just an excuse to meet madam).

I will have a section called the adventures with Frida soon. Maybe keep updating them as they happen.

The fatmospheric existence

Have you ever been approached by a random person in the Metro and told how you are unhappy? Has some child just randomly been rude to you and called you names because you were walking by? Have you by now turned a bully after years of being tormented as the fat one because you figured out that life is a 'jungle raj' – you either bully people yourself or they mock you till you want to curl up and die?

I have.

In the three decades of my existence now, I have come to terms with it. I have also started getting used to the people around who sometimes stare incessantly till you actually raise your eyebrows and ask them whether there is something wrong with them.

It has taken some time – most of it fighting the loopy loop of exercise, diet, failure, misery, self pity and back to exercise.

I like to eat – and I have given in to making it as healthy as I can.

The truth is being fat in this world is worse than being a member of the biggest terrorist organisation.

This is not a rant – it is simply a fact that from the time I gained weight during my puberty I was told how I would never get a good guy. Then I ended up in a bad relationship because of low self esteem where the guy knew how to take advantage of it. In hindsight I wish I had more supportive people around me who did not let my body image decide how I dealt with relationships. Things became so bad that I clamped down and went on a spiral of depression in my college days.

Time and time again many experts reiterate - being fat is different from being unhealthy. Fat and obesity contribute to a lot of diseases, no doubt. But a healthy lifestyle is so much more important than berating a child (or anyone else) for being overweight. Instead, try introducing your children and yourself to a nutritious diet and daily mild physical exercises to keep diseases at bay. It is so important that you let your child know that looks should not be the scale by which your peers treat you – and no amount of bullying should be taken lying down.

My coping mechanism was getting apologetic or joking about it myself before others could. There are many who can't and suffer even more.

It is sad that more and more people now adhere to the western image of beauty, health and beauty magazines all promote the thinnest of people. India, where a woman with girth was always in demand has now become a term of 'abuse'.

Sonakshi Sinha, Parineeti Chopra and Vidya Balan are criticised by the fashion police for looking fat at events. Some of them fight back, some choose silence and then feature in photoshopped covers of popular magazines where they look all skin and bones. The heroines of movies have started looking like clones of each other and more and more people are following that trend.

A movie like 'Dum Laga Ke Haisha' featuring the very real and overweight Bhumi Pednekar may just be the refreshing change in that image. But I am not very hopeful. After all Vidya, Sonakshi, Parineeti have been the leads in some really good flicks and I don't see anyone backing down with their insults when their 'fat' shows through their designer clothes in award shows.

Their careers, their work, their talent get overshadowed by the weight. Something that is splashed across page 3 every few days. These talented ladies face the wrath of the very people they are trying to impress.

Bollywood continues to mock overweight characters in their movies, and very few manage to stay away from that stereotype. The fat one in the movie is always alone, stupid and mostly just shown lying around in a sofa unable to do anything other than getting joked about. And in a country that worships their movies – that is indeed a sad image to portray.

People, who otherwise won't move a muscle to save a dying man on the road come looking all concerned trying to sell me the latest weight loss technique their fat cousin used and how has had a makeover a la Hrithik Roshan in 'Kabhie Khushi Kabhie Gam'. Some just openly laugh.

Most are so insensitive that they would stare and point as if I was a caged animal in the zoo. I mostly take it with a pinch of salt and laugh it off. But, I can imagine how it must be for those who can't laugh when they are at the receiving end of constant prodding and interference from people who say they care about them. Things would not change – most of us live with our prejudices and pass it on to our children.

There is no reason why my weight should define who I am. I have a career, I am intelligent (so one hopes), and pleasant – yet the first thing most notice is my weight.

Not caring about what people say is the best way to take them off guard. As long as you are comfortable with who you are – life becomes like sprinkles on a chocolate ice-cream. Which reminds me I am hungry!

Burial

30/05/2005
I may cry,
and let all my sorrow be carried to my grave,
buried deep and not be found,
let my tears dry on my cracked blue lips,
My burning heart freeze within,
and when my soul turns cold, with the death of my soul,
let the wisps be, let it not flit around in freedom.
keep it trapped as me. 

Droplets of blood

Artwork by Audrey J. Ross, do check out his blog

I compel the smiles to be brought forth,

For I believe that's what people would like to see.

And those who humour me,

Get lost within.

Soon they forget the allusion,

Start pricking on the scabs,

They believe it's a favour,

I go back to weaving shrouds again.

This is a very old poem, i think around 2005/06. I shall be updating a few more soon. hope someone is reading this blog still to follow my bickerings . XOXO

Currently listening to: Lalon Band, (you can check there fb page )

Recently watched : Ranjhana, Bombay Talkies

Currently reading: A Song of Ice and Fire 

Shreyas ki Kalam se...

I 'discovered' Delhi in 2006. 

Though I've lived my life almost entirely in this metropolis, I never 'opened my eyes' to it before that - it was always just a collection of this-nagar and that-pur, this-vihar and that-extension to me. That was till William Dalrymple's acclaimed travelogue 'The City of Djinns' found me. And my outlook changed...

My mother is a historian. Delhi is history. I requested a crash course. She told me, there's nothing like visiting history instead of theorizing it. 

Not that it is all about history and culture. Not at all! It is, statistically (in terms of area covered), the Greenest capital city in the world and the third greenest among all cities with a population of 1 million or more. Yes, this is Delhi we're talking about, the same one where horizons used to be dark gray not more than 10 years ago. So expect to find some non-archaeo-historical visits on this blog too, predominated by the colour green.

And so, armed with my 'City of Djinns', Eicher City Maps, 'Architecture of the Cities of Delhi - A Reliance Presentation' (good detailed maps of historical sites), my omniscient Marlboro regulars and a Sony Ericsson K300i camera phone, I've set out on a journey of the last 3500 years. And that is the conservative archaeological estimate of Delhi's age, not a Doc Brown idea from the Back to the Future movies.

'...और नीली फ़ज़ा की मख़़मल पर

हँसती हुई हीरे की ये कनी

ये मेरी जन्नत, मेरी ज़मीं ...'

(अली सरदार जाफ़री - 'मेरा सफ़र ')

DISCLAIMER:

This post comes from a Dead Blog http://www.meri-dilli.blogspot.in with the permission of the blogger. I thought it was a very well written post, and needs to be read by more people. It has not been written by me, and i take no credit for it. There is just one more post from this blog which was posted and here is the LINK

Wedding Diaries - Intro

General Disclaimer:

For the sake of clarifications, the following blog posts are not about wedding tips, or shopping tips(although I might just add some tips I found useful for myself). It is more like a weddinglogue (on the lines of a travelogue). I will post mostly my experiences. Where i got most of the things. How we planned, what came of it.

Mostly shit that flew and shit that landed where it should have. And not!!!

I will have some back dated posts since I did not have the time to write. Like the engagement ceremony. And the real engagement ceremony. Starting with this one.

I will also be putting up the check lists, songs, videos, pictures, and random things I associate with the wedding

Conversations...

The mobile phone can sometimes be a wonderful thing... this is one of those times... My friend D and I made this entire poem over sms' something that we haven't done for years... So here it is...

D:
There
Split in half
Perfect chasm
Or so it seems,
Here,
This piece of moon i shall give you,
And bind you
to this eternal darkness...

M:
The eternal darkness,
I shall shroud myself with,
And steal some of your sunshine,
and lighten up the lives,
of those you have bound before

D:
The hollow sun,
The rusted shine,
Take the heart and let the shroud come alive

M:
The rusted shine,
Bursting forth,
A million stars,
Speckling the shroud,
Alive, anew
With Sparkling dew,
have it... go on... eat...
As gods were born this way,

D:
The newest of them,
The small little gods,
drawn, erased, redrawn, erased,
Faint outlines,
... touched with those lips...

M:
Thats what they do,
With hollow suns
Take the little rays,
And paint the Halos,
On little Gods,
Gods casting shadows,
Thats why i steal,
Steal sunshine from you love...
Mere mortals take better care,
They take the moon and make love,
Take sands and make castles,
And even borrow my shroud to look for their lovers....

ibadah

आज जब मैं जागा तो तेरा हाथ रखा था मेरे हाथों पर,
गरम रजाई सा लपेटे,
अपने होठों से बस चन्द centimeter दूर|
मैंने तेरे गालों पे हाथ फेरा,
और हलके से खीछ लिया अपना हाथ,
तो नींद में ही तेरी उँगलियाँ ढूँढने में लग गयी|
मेरे हाथों को छूकर फ़िर से लिपट लिया,
इस बार ज़रा जोर से,
फ़िर धीरे से मुस्कुराते हुए,
फ़िर खो गयी अपने सपनो के बादलों में,
और मैं ताकता रहा तेरे चेहरे को,
कि दाईम इबादतों से आज नज़र आई है आज जन्नत|

Tilling the Earthwoman: A Chennai Wedding That MAKES A DIFFERENCE

Tilling the Earthwoman: A Chennai Wedding That MAKES A DIFFERENCE:

This is a post I have taken from Bhavna's blog and honestly it’s a story worth retelling. Full credits to her for such a beautiful blog post. Please make all your comments on her post. And hope such feelings of generosity are instilled in more of us. I only wanted to share the story so more people could read this.

I was thinking that morning—this is one wedding I want to attend, one wedding that I would cherish attending, where I would delight in giving the wedding gift.

I don’t enjoy weddings. I am not into competitive dressing, competitive jewelry showcasing, or latest gossip, or assessing if bride and groom are “match made in heaven.”

But this wedding, the wedding of Thilak and Dhana on June 1st 2012 will be different. It is a wedding that MAKES A DIFFERENCE. How?

1. The wedding reception will be a fundraiser for an education fund for underprivileged children. No box gifts allowed; only donations to the fund.

2. The children from 8 homes in Chennai have been invited to the wedding reception. They will join in the celebration equally as rest of us.

3. The bride will not wear any silk clothes or expensive ornaments and the wedding will follow a much-researched simple ritual attended by close relatives.

It sounds simple, doesn’t it? And yet so hard to actually execute! How does a bride tell her family that she does not want to get dressed up and that she wants to marry so that she can adopt? And that the groom wants to pay for the reception from his pocket—not his parents or in-laws? And that he says No to gifts? Thilak and Dhana have waited almost 2 years to convince their family to do just that!

Nope, Dhana and Thilak were not in love when they first thought of marriage. You see, both of them are uncommon, a little odd. Dhana had been avoiding marriage, for her passion was with animals and social work. Thilak had decided he would not marry for he was convinced that he could not find a companion who would share his social passion, his adventurous spirit, and his quiet spirituality. But Gods smiled at these two wonderful individuals and brought them together in a way that is so apt!

A little baby girl called Theresa played cupid in this couple’s life. Who is Theresa? She was a non-affected six-month old girl abandoned by her teenaged HIV+ve mother. She first triggered motherly love in Dhana’s heart. Then Dhana proposed to Thilak, a friend then, to marry her so that she could adopt the baby. Adoption homes try to find parents before the baby turns one year as children find it difficult to adjust to new homes as they grow up. Dhana could not convince her folks in time and Theresa was adopted by another set of loving parents. But the wedding fundraiser in June is in the name of Theresa Educational Fund commemorating the love that brought these two beautiful individuals together.

I have known Thilak for sometime now. I first ran into him in the India Against Corruption movement and thereafter discovered that Thilak had dedicated his life to the welfare of the underprivileged children. He is the co-founder of Sevai Karangal along with Nandan which monitors and supports eight Children’s homes in the city of Chennai. The organization works with a difference: They don’t just donate. Rather they ensure people engage with the homes and the children. The monthly social treks conducted by Chennai Trekking Club take Chennaiites to celebrate their birthdays at the Children’s homes or take the children out on joyful treks. For more information on social treks, please go towww.chennaitrekkers.org.

Thilak insists that what children need is attention and love more than anything else—a sense of familiarity, a joy. He raises funds for infrastructure—he had a block built at one of the homes when he noticed the rooms were cramped for the kids. He organized for water filters after he tested the water in couple of the homes. He raises funds for their school books and stationery and uniforms. He raises funds for their education. He along with other volunteers organizes Diwali events at the homes. He also supports an Old Age home. Till date he has channelized close to Rs. 7 lacs to the various homes in about 4 years.

And he monitors closely if the money is being utilized effectively, if children are being taken care of properly. I remember once I was travelling with him to a meeting, when he asked, if I would accompany him to a surprise visit at a home nearby. We bought some goodies for the kids and dropped in. Thilak later explained that these sudden visits help him gauge the real situation and also keeps the pressure on caretakers at the homes.

Besides engagement and funding, the organization has also set-up a mentorship project called Navigator, akin to the Big Brother Big Sister program in United States and workshops to improve creative skills in the children.

No, Thilak is not from any rich family. The poor guy shuffles his time between work and passion so that he can sustain himself as well as provide for his passion. Dhana is not a rich girl either. She is rich in her heart.

As these two ordinary citizens of our country take that seven steps to bind themselves in matrimony, they do more than that—they set an example for others to follow, they give meaning to the structure called marriage, they bring hope in the lives of so many children, they bring faith back to cynical hearts.

So please join me in extending blessings and heartfelt wishes to this lovely couple. You can Facebook Thilak at https://www.facebook.com/theluckraj and learn more about Sevai Karangal at www.sevaikarangal.org. If you are in Chennai, do join a social trek!

चल, लौटते हैं|

Taken On Route to Manali (August 2011)
Kodak 

चल, वापस चलते हैं,
उस रास्ते के किनारे,
हम अपनी रौशनी छोड़ आएँ है शायद,


और कुछ साज़ bhi रखे होंगे,
उन्ही लिहाफ ओढ़े
पहाड़ों की पगडंडियों पर।

उसी बारिश की छींटों में भीगी सी माया,
वहीं बैठी है,
सड़क के किनारे टूटती सी bench पे...

कहीं किसी तरफ से ही आ कर,
किसी पुरानी train का फ़ालतू सा किस्सा सुनाते हुए,
मेरे पास बैठे तू,
आँखों से मेरे बाल हटाते हुए,
कोई बेहूदा सा ठट्टा करे,
मेरे ज़हन के लफ्ज़ गुनगुनाये...

चल लौटते हैं?
जहाँ रेतों पर अभी भी,
सिर्फ़ हमारा आशियाना बना है...
चल, अब वही चलके रहते हैं।

image (C) copyright: aparna mudi

chaand aur barish

बारिश आज झगड़ रही है मुझसे खूब, 

rain on my lense, just very strong drizzle

रंग लगाना है मेरे चेहरे पर,

कुछ make -up सा लगाना है, 

के कोई न पहचाने, 

बस धुंधली सी आँखें ही दिखे सबको मेरी!

कुछ जल सी जाती है, 

उन सारे romeo 's  के प्यार भरे ख़त में 

मेरा ज़िक्र देख देख कर,

सोचती है की सारे मेरे लिए ही लिखे गए है | 

और मैं उसके सामने खड़ा हो जाता हूँ, 

के उसके आँचल में, 

धुंधला के खो जाना अच्छा लगता है

इस झूठ को मैं टाल जाता हूँ,

और जकड लेता हूँ उसे अपने चारो ओर, 

के हर romeo अपनी juliet को रात के अँधेरे में मिल लेगा|

आढ़ में उसकी जलन के, 

उसी के आंसुओ के कुछ बूंदों में भीगते हुए

धुंधली रात में पहली बार चूमेंगे एक दुसरे को|

subah

Kausani, early morning at 5:30 am 2009

सोया है तु और तेरे आँखों से 

शब् गिरा है मेरे हाथों में.

जाने क्यों सोचता है बार बार

के बिना लब चूमें ही चला जाऊँगा मैं इस रोज़...

तेरी हर नफ़स मेरी मुट्ठी में बंद करके,

ले जाता हूँ मेरे ही कोट के जेब में |

बसों के सीटों में, ट्रेनों के भीड़ में, हर जगह 

फैलती जाती है तेरी खुशबू...

बस उसी खुशबू का पीछा करते करते 

लौट आया करता हूँ शाम को |

जाने क्यों घबराता है तु सपनो में भी,

कि इस रोज़ लब चूमके नहीं जाऊँगा |

शॉल कि तरह लपेटे रहता हूँ दिनभर इनको होठों से.

दिन भर गुनगुनी सी रहती है धूप |

image (C) copyright: aparna mudi

Canon Digital A550

suraj

हर रात रुक जाती हूँ मैं यही आके,
हर रात बैठती हूँ इसी पेड़ के नीचे,

Right outside my house in Delhi, Dec 2010

कापते पत्ते मेरे पैरों के आस पास आके,
गरम होने कि कोशिश करते हैं|

हर रात उनसे मैं दिन भर का दुखड़ा कहती हूँ,
और वह जाड़े की शिकायत करते हैं,
थोड़ी सी धुंध खाते हैं, थोडा शब् पीते हैं,
फ़िर रुकते हैं, राह देखतें हैं उसका|

वह आये, तो नज़र भर देखके ही,
आँख मूंदु...
के रूठ के बैठा है जाने कब से,
कल आये न आये|

मेरे दोस्त बैठके अपने में,
मेरा ठट्ठा उड़ाते हैं|
मैं वही लेट जाती हूँ... समुन्दर ओढ़ के...

कल तड़के ही उठाना है,
नहीं तो सारा दिन बादल कुछ नहीं करने देगा,
मेरा मज़ाक बनाएगा...
के चाँद बस अब नींद में ही चूमता है मुझे...

image (C) copyright: aparna mudi

nokia 7210 , supernova

Fairy tales IN trunks too

She made one for herself...
Where she rode the winged Pegasus,

Robed and armed with swords
And slayed mighty dragons,

She fought fire with her bare hands,

She became the knight,

Who she always thought would rescue her.

They never actually came,

To her tower at all,

Nor riding on white steeds,

Nor braving monsters, and storms...

She counted days and months,

In the lines on her fair skin,

Drew them herself,

With nails that had grown wild,

She wrapped the bloodied hands,

With her golden hair,

All thorns and matted,

Her only crown,

The flowers, had dried away,
the petals - crushed...

Even the magic mirror refused to speak to her anymore,

She wasn’t the chosen one for the fairy tale…

She waited… For she aspired to be,

In clichéd phoenix tales,

Be a phoenix herself.
To turn life around.

With magic wands and likes,

And crumbled and vanished in those very ashes. 

NOTE: I often like writing poems in continuation to a previous poem, or in the same theme,

Here is a link to Fairy Tales in Trunks the original one.

You might enjoy it

Walk

Ranikhet 2009

A magical misty night,

Up in the hills,

A couple walks hand in hand,  only out of habit…

Both remembering the love they shared,

Even a few years ago.

Now as they fight,
With their own lives,
catching up on them,

Their dreams lie back home on their pillows,

Fading away in love letters

Folded and locked away in boxes.

A magical misty night,

Getting colder as the night falls,

Each wishing the stars would start falling,

So the lover’s eyes would twinkle again

With the wishes they made in secret,

Even a few years ago.

The wishes that came true,

At the cost of love,

Love which was stored in piggy banks,

For years,

So they could be spent little by little,

On magical misty walks like this. 

Paulo and me

रेत से घर नहीं बनते,
बस ख्वाब बनते है,
औत उचकते समुंदर में खो जाते है रात में|

उसमें सूखे पत्तो के दरवाज़े,
जागते सूरज में रंग भरते हैं|

Ice cream के wrapper से बना रास्ता
सिर्फ एक कुचला हुआ
पल बनके रह जाता है |

हर शाम,
तेरे मेरे पैरो के निशान,
और काई निशानियों के बीच खो जाते है|

फिर भी अगली शाम,
हम दोनों बैठते है,
उसी दुश्मन समुन्दर के किनारे|
उसे challenge  करके कहते है
"आज और बड़ा घर बनाएँगे,
इतना बड़ा कि,
उसकी देहलीज़ न छू सकेगा तू" ...
और जुट जाते है,
अपने नन्हे हाथों में,
एक लकड़ी का टुकड़ा लिए |
एक नया सा कोई ख्वाब,
एक नयी याद बनाने |

Kaayi

सावन आ आकर

छत के दरवाज़े खट-खाटाते हैं बस|

थोडा सा गन्दा पानी 

सीढियों पर छोर जाते हैं|

मुंडेरों पर बरसो से जमी हुई काई को

थोडा और काला कर जाते हैं |

जो सूखती नहीं,

इस शुष्क, तेज़ दोपहरी में भी|

फ़िर बस acid डालना पड़ता है,

पुराने चेहरों पर

सब पुराने धब्बे मिटाने पड़ते हैं,

हाथ जला कर ...

थोडा पीकर

gopal

बहुत साल पहले,

वृन्दावन की गलियों में,

एक दुकान के  ताक पर,

चढा बैठा था!

ठीक उसही तरह ताक-झांक करता,

जैसे माखन चुराने के लिए,

वो औरो को sentry duty पर

लगाया करता था, बरसो पहले|

मैंने कहा, 

"मुझे चाहिए,

खूब ख्याल रखूँगी इसका,

अपने बच्चे सा!"

"रोज़ सुबह उठाऊंगी, नहालाउंगी, बताशे खिलाऊँगी,

हर साल नए कपड़े दूँगी,

इतना प्यार तो शायद

यशोदा ने भी न किया होगा |"

एक सिंघासन लिया,

कुछ कपड़े,

सोने के लिए 

एक छोटा सा,

गोटे वाला सिरहाना|

अपनी आँखों से तब बोलता था,

नए घर में जाने कि ख़ुशी, 

छलक के गिरती थी|

शाम को बाती और धूप की सुगंध में,

सूरज के साथ वो भी सो जाता,

अपने नन्हे से बिछोने में,

सुबह उठता था,

शंख कि आवाज़ के साथ |

नखरे सहती थी इसके,

कभी नए कपड़े, 

तो कभी सर्दी में रात को चादर ओढ़ाना,

कभी  चॉकलेट, मिठाईयों कि फरमाईश |

आज दस साल हो गए इस बात को!

अब रात दर रात, 

इंतज़ार करता रहता है |

कभी तो देखूं इसकी तरफ,

कभी पूछ लूं कि सब कैसा है |

कभी रोऊँ इसके पास बैठकर, 

बार बार पूछूं कि कब मुझको भी,

अपने नन्हे हाथों से लिपट लेगा |

कब थामेगा मेरा हाथ भी अपने जादू भरे प्यार से |

अब उसके नखरे मुझे 

अपने बनाये हुए illusions लगते हैं |

उसके लिए मेरा प्यार एक व्यर्थ चेष्टा |

उसकी वो रोशन आँखें,

बस वृन्दावन कि रौशनी का खेल |

शायद बहुत देर हो गयी है,

शायद अब मुझे आस नहीं,

यशोदा सा,

वो मुझे भी 'माँ' कहे,

शायद मैं उसे कभी इतना प्यार कर ही न पायी |

पर जब किया था,

पूरे मन से किया था,

सबसे ज्यादा,

एक छोटे बच्चे सा |

बस ये नहीं समझी थी,

कि वो मुझसे भी छोटा है |

अभी तक अपनी जिद पे अड़ा  है |