beingdesh

Category: India

  • हैदराबादी प्रेम कहानी… जो हो ना सकी

    महिना था फरवरी का,
    समय था वोह अफरा तफरी का
    Placement का चल रहा था त्यौहार,
    क्योकि आजकल वही तो रह गया है प्रबंधन शिक्षा का सार.

    मैं बैठा था interview कक्ष मैं, सवालों से जूझता
    कभी हँसता, कभी लडखडाता
    अचानक मुझसे पुछा गया,
    आप लगते है कहानीकार
    हम देखना चाहते है आपके विचार.

    मैंने उठायी कागज़ कलम,
    सोचा प्रस्तुत करू हास्य रस, या फिर थोडा गम
    विचारों की धारा बहने लगी
    मेरी इस नौकरी को प्राप्त करने और हैदराबाद जाने की इच्छा बढ़ी.

    बिरयानी की आई महक,
    मन न जाने क्यों मेरा गया चहक
    चिरंजीवी का आया विचार,
    तेलुगु सिनेमा की जय जयकार
    वोह चावल का ढेर, पप्पू के संग,
    गोंगुरा का अचार जमाएगा रंग*
    चार मीनार की वोह गलिया,
    जहा पकेगा इश्क का दलिया
    पर इश्क के लिए तो चाहिए लड़की,
    तेलुगु सीखे बिना छाएगी कडकी
    सोचा मैंने यह सब करूँगा,
    तेलुगु सीख, लड़की पटा कर, शादी करूँगा.

    कुछ वक्त पश्चात आई यह खबर,
    मिली नौकरी छायी ख़ुशी इस कदर
    पर फिर मैं रहा गया मुंबई नगरी,
    न गया हैदराबाद न छायी प्यार की बदरी.

    आज विचार आया की काश कुछ ऐसा होता,
    मुह मैं डबल का मीठा और संग साथी अनूठा होता
    मुंबई की गलिया नाप नाप कर मैं हु थका
    यह था मेरा अनोका रिश्ता, जो हो न सका… हो न सका.

    * Pappu is thickish daal served usually in Andhra meals. Gongura is a super tasty pickle served along with rice and pappu and sambhar and the crispy veggies in an awesome andhra meal.

    This poem is dedicated to the wonderful lady who made me write this story in interview and all the awesome Hyderabadi/Andhra people.

  • टमाटर की व्यथा: Ketchup बनू या कटरीना का Body Wash

    गुमसुम गुमसुम…
    लाल लाल, नरम नरम,
    इस टमाटर मैं है बड़ा दम.

    जब टमाटर ketchup बन जाता,
    हर टेबल की यह शोभा बढाता.

    पकोड़े हो या पिज़्ज़ा, समोसा हो या आमलेट,
    टमाटर है कुदरत की एक भेंट.

    पर जब इंसान को हक है अपना जीवन जीने का,
    तो क्या टमाटर को हक नहीं अपनी राह चुनने का?

    किस्मत मैं था उसके की ketchup बन जाऊ,
    बच्चो बड़ो सबके दिल मैं समाऊ.

    पर उसे क्या पता था की वोह बन सकता है body wash कटरीना का,
    उस कोमल बदन पर छीटा गुलाब का.

    शीला की जवानी, टमाटर की रवानी,
    टमाटर लिखे प्यार की एक नयी कहानी.

    सलमान, रणबीर है किस खेत की मूली,
    जब खुद टमाटर खेले लाल रंग की होली.

    कटरीना भी हुई दीवानी,
    टमाटर की थी यही अनोखी कहानी.

    – अभिषेक देशपांडे ‘देसी’

    Refer:

    Ek Junoon- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSsSM2IR2LY

    Inspirations: Rosesh Sarabhai

  • Ahhh… we won it!?

    It was a weird feeling, a never before kind of experience, roaming around near Shivaji Park at night, thousands of people of all kinds on street. I think it was their presence on streets, rather than of actually watching it on TV, or talking to a 100 friends on phone, or messaging a thousand, or going through all those updates on facebook, or those ever so vocal news channels which made me believe. Did we win it for sure?

    Infact what happened felt more like a dream for a considerable period of time. It started when we were floating in the beautiful surroundings of Kerala, and while attending my friend’s wedding we missed the Bangladesh one. But that was supposed to be won, no major worries there.

    Then came my Bangalore trip, and watching one of the most amazing matches of the world cup at Chennaswamy, with one of the biggest cricket fan I know (my school friend who watches blind cricket and also followed all the ICL matches), and 2 mahaan DAIICTians whose love for cricket is unparalleled. Sitting between them I was the most pessimistic one during the match. But the dream went on, Sachin had scored a century, and for a moment I actually thought this is it. Now I would be able to tell my kids that I saw Sachin make a World Cup century, that I could jump of the Chennaswamy stand and still float in air, and that the food at cricket stadiums sucks.

    Then there was the South African encounter with the person with whom I had scene the ever so forgettable India Bangladesh encounter in 2007. We tried to not do anything we had done that day, still we lost.

    Then there were the minnows, simple boring encounters where Yuvraj was having fun and generally I was getting bored.

    Holi came and also came with it the West Indies encounter. We were beyond repair that day, and for the entire day I just saw weird visualizations of a cricket match, by the end of it I just knew. We had won. Australia they were saying was up next. Australia. Scared.

    The next three encounters can easily be the three best days of every Indian’s life. The pessimistic me gave hope when Dhoni got out, only to catch a glimpse of the match Filmy style on roads with crowd as I walked back from office to home. By the time I was home Raina was hitting Lee out of the park. We had won. Still it was difficult to digest all this, now it was happening a bit too quick.

    Pakistan it was, and I was nervous. Very very nervous. I had a meeting till 1 AM a day before, went back home, came to office at 8 AM, did all the follow-up and basically immersed myself in too much work so that I don’t think of the match. In between 100s of options of watching it here or there, it was going to be the huge office screen where I would watch it. And when Umar Gul started running in towards Sehwag, I was shivering. It was just too much tension. Sachin’s scratchy knock, Pakistan’s pathetic fielding, Umar Gul being thankfully off colour, and awesomest bowling by Ajmal stood out. By far a much more superior side than us in terms of bowling. After Hafeez got out playing a very very stupid shout I knew we will win it, till Umran Akmal (whom I think will become the next Pak captain, anyone who survives for 2-3 years becomes the captain there, anyway, awesome player) started smashing us but somehow finally despite Misbah last minute hitting it was comfortably won.

    And then there was the Final, so much has been written about it already, but I felt Jayawardane’s knock was truly amazing. Low risk high return innings, especially one shot he played from outside the off stump towards fine leg was truly amazing. Gambhir and Dhoni were really good on the night. And we ended up burning tonnes of aggarbattis to satisfy our superstitious selfs.

    So this World Cup ended, and I was truly happy, but still it was much different from the 1996 one. We were kids back then, there were not many Deepikas and Katrinas in the stand, we could see cricketers though, we were never bleeding blue, our blood was red back then, we discussed cricket, we discussed the stats, never the number of drinks which we had in each game, people always thought of cricket as a family affair, never a reason to party and so many things.

    But we used to, we still, and we will always discuss Sachin.

    ————————————————————————————————————————————————–

    What are your memories of Cricket World Cup 2011?

    ————————————————————————————————————————————————–

  • The Politics of Cricket or the Cricket of Politics?

    He is a batting genius, the greatest we have ever seen, my generation has spent one-third of its life watching, thinking and talking about him, still he remains humble, modest, calm and a man of integrity.

    He is an economic genius, the greatest the country has ever produced, at least with the greatest impact, my generation has seen so many changes around us due to him, over the last few years he has carried a big burden, still he remains humble, modest, calm and a man of integrity?

    It was 1991, he was touring Australia and facing an all out pace attack at Perth. He scored one of the best innings anyone had ever seen. And India’s favorite kid with his Power bat entered everyone’s heart and into the head of Australian pace attack led by a tall guy with a huge moustache.

    He was led by a wristy, skillful and stylish Hyderabadi who himself had debuted in mid 80s and was now leading the Indian side. Under him for years to come India remained strong at home, almost invincible, and entered a modern era, the age of ODIs. ODI cricket fuelled a new generation with Colas, Color televisions and new consumerist life. All along this the Hyderabadi gave the maestro a free hand, and let him bloom into what we know of him today.

    It was 1991, the economy was in shambles and he delivered a historic budget, which changed India, forever. India was opening up to the world and an entire generation of people was exposed to Colas, Color televisions and a consumerist life. He was drafted into the ministry by someone from Andhra, he had his own style, had mastery of multiple languages and had been in the Cabinet in the mid 80s. And similar to the man leading India on the Cricket field, he gave maestro a free hand, a shielding from the all the politics around him, and allowed him to bloom.

    Eventually the Hyderabadi had his downfall, caught in the web of corruption, only to resurrect himself later as, guess what, a politician!

    Eventually the man from Andhra had his downfall, caught in the web of corruption, but he couldn’t resurrect himself, maybe there wasn’t a dirtier profession left for him.

    As India welcomed the new century, marred by corruption and allegations of match fixing, the most ardent fans had stopped watching cricket, they had lost faith in an institution revered by many, as the simplest expression of honesty. And we got a leader who believed in leading a fresh generation of player, who didn’t think about just thinking, they were there to do it. The skillful, and almost poetic batting of the prince of Kolkata was a precursor to his aggressive displays on the field, we had finally found a leader, who spoke his mind, and made us proud on the Cricket field.

    As India welcomed the new century, marred by failed governments, weird games of parliament and the influence of regional parties, the most ardent believers in India’s democratic system had lost faith in the country’s functioning. And we got a leader, who came with his fresh set of ideas, and a team which promised to guide us in the next century. The poet from small place called Balrampur (U.P.) had seen it all, and his calm aggression, both on matters of national importance or economic importance made us proud Indians.

    In 2003, India reached the world cup finals, it was lead by the leader whom we thought had it all, but at the finals it seems, his team was too charged up, maybe a bit over confident.

    In 2004, India faced another election, it was lead by the same old veteran we talked about, but at the elections it seems, his team was too charged up, maybe a bit overconfident.

    …

    …

    2011:

    Our batting maestro still goes on, with his same passion for cricket, all these years might have taken away those curly locks, a bit of speed while running between the wickets, or while fielding. But it hasn’t taken away his dedication and integrity.

    But what happened to our economic maestro, well we had immense faith in him. He was a calming influence to the erratic ruling coalition loosely held under the blessing of India’s royal family. We had faith in him, and we gave him his chances. Be it the reservations or the terror attacks everyone stood by him. The entire country showed confidence in the nuclear deal because we knew it was he who was backing it.

    But then he stopped talking.

    And let things happen, as he silently watched, like a boring Wimbledon crowd, clapping at each ace, be it 2G, CWG, or Adarsh or any such thing which comes up daily.

    At one end I see the batting maestro, putting in everything so that he could win it for us.

    At the other I see a person, who just keeps on losing everyday at work.

  • गीत नया गाता हूँ

    बचपन से ही मेरी राजनीति मैं काफी रूचि रही है। ९० के दशक मैं भारतीय राजनीति मैं खासे उलटफेर हुए, परन्तु उनमे से सबसे रोचक क्षण तब आया जब अटलजी ने प्रधानमंत्री का पद संभाला। बचपन में मैंने एक दिन पुस्तकालय से एक किताब उठायी, अटलजी की जीवनी जो रोचक भी थी, और काफी कुछ सिखाती थी। मुझे उनकी कवितायेँ पढना भी काफी पसंद आया। उनके बारे में समाचार पत्र में पढना, दूरदर्शन पर उन्हें सुनना काफी अच्छा लगा करता था।

    अब जब में उन दिनों को वापिस देखता हू, तो पाता हूँ की राजनीति से सारा रस ही छीन गया हैं। परिवारवाद और घोटालो से घिरी यह राजनीति में उन अच्छे वाद-विवादों, रस भरी कविताओं, अच्छे वक्ताओ, और इमानदार लोगो की खासी कमी है। ऐसा नहीं की उन दिनों स्त्थिथि कुछ बेहतर थी, परन्तु अटलजी जब तक इसका हिस्सा थे, तब तक एक उम्मीद थी, और भरोसा भी था। अटलजी का राजनीति से दूर होना, मेरे और मेरे कई मित्रो का इस विषय से रूचि खोने का भी कारण बना।

    २५ दिसम्बर को अटलजी ने अपना ८६वा जनादीन मनाया। मैं उनकी लम्बी आयु की कामना करता हूँ, और उम्मीद करता हूँ की भविष्य मैं हमें उन जैसे कुछ निर्विवाद, भरोसेमंद और प्यारे नेता मिले। अभी मैंने उनकी किताब मेरी ५१ कवितायेँ पढ़ रहा हूँ, सोचा मेरी पसंदीदा कविता के साथ इस लेख का अंत करू,

    टूटे हुए तारो से फूटे वासंती स्वर,
    पत्थर की छाती से उग आया नव अन्जौर,
    झरे सब पीले पट,
    कोयल की कुहुक रात
    प्राची में अरुणिमा की रेख देख पाता हूँ।
    गीत नया गाता हूँ।

    टूटे हुए सपने की सुने कौन सिसकी?
    अंतर को चीर व्यथा पलकों पर ठिठकी।
    हार नहीं मानूंगा,
    रार नहीं ठानूंगा,
    काल के कपाल पर लिखता-मिटाता हूँ।
    गीत नया गाता हूँ।

    Featured image by Wikicommons

  • Brand or Fad

    Nokia as India’s most trusted brand… naah [Brand Equity Survey]. I mean my last 3 phones have been Nokia and I just love them still I don’t feel for they simply didn’t deserve the numero-uno position in the survey, given the awesome ground players like Micromax and co have covered. Rest of the top 10 are made by the usual list of Lever products along with the red and white toothpaste, the awesome smelling antiseptic (smelled its Chinese version at Apeksha’s home, disappointing, doesn’t smell the same) and everyone’s favorite biscuit brand.

    Some years back at DA-IICT we were debating the difference between a Brand and a Fad. Pumped up from the success of Rang De Basanti and the awesome Legend of Bhagat Singh songs my roomie always wanted to be a rebel, maar daalo he said, anti-establishment had become. I came up with this point on Bhagat Singh being a fad, something which didn’t last, and Gandhiji being a Brand. As per Nitin Paranjpe, CEO, HUL successful brands deliver timeless values, build on them and resonate not just with the immediate needs of consumer but with their larger aspirations.

    Now think of Bhagat Singh, yes he indeed was a hero and he did satisfy the immediate need of the masses, but he or his means were not enough to sustain it over a time and fit into the larger picture of achieving independence.

    Gandhiji lived his life with masses and delivered trust over a sustained period of time (even after his death) and the core values remained the same non-violence, tolerance and respect for everyone. He became much more than a brand, he became a way of life.

    So is Nokia a Gandhiji and Micromax a Bhagat Singh? No, these things are not comparable but yes these brands can learn a lesson or two from personalities and how they managed themselves. Nokia can’t all of a sudden come up with a blast of weird low cost dual/ quadra sim phones, and Micromax can’t come up with the awesome quality which Nokia offers.Gandhiji would have never taken up violence of any form, and Bhagat Singh would have never had the tolerance to tackle the beating of British officers with a smile. But now these brands are trying to find a middle ground, Nokia planning to come up with multi-sim phones and Micromax offering great service through its network.

    Whatever be it, no one wants a rebel around, just think of it, what would be better, a Nokia coming out of your pocket, or a Micromax!

    [Note: It might sound loose, if one has to analyze Nokia, one has to look at a zillion other pressures the company is facing across the globe, I just mentioned a small situation which had stuck on for a few days]

  • Simplicity and Chaos

    From the time is was a Rs. 6 green fatty-boxed luxury, to the Rs. 10 yellow slim box regularity, Frooti has been one of my favorite brands. Why do I love it? No it’s not the usual nostalgia I associate with so many things; it’s just because of its simplicity. There have been many changes to it with times: the fat green box (Rs. 6) to green long boxed Yo! Frooti (Rs.8) to Rs. 10 yellow boxed one (it spiked to Rs. 12 one summer, evoking concerns from fans like me). But Frooti’s soul remains same, being Mango. At core it’s the same simple mango drink, and its packaging might change, or the price, but its soul (read positioning) remains just the same.Super Shimplu! (For SP marketing junta, recall one of Ashita mam’s classes,when Pooja and Nitika gave this presentation, I was super excited and we had a nice discussion on Frooti). Frooti has become a routine for me, I don’t care much, I just pick it up, I know it’s my Frooti, and it always will be.

    Then there is always the other extreme. Remember Liril, the superb refreshing lime soap (the la lalalalalaa lalalala laaa classic ad featuring Karen Lunel created byAlyque Padamsee is still so refreshing). But Liril somehow became confusing.It used to be my favorite soap, but they tried out too many things. They came up with what I recall as India’s first shower gel, different variants to core Liril (blue Liril) and finally disappeared. And then it came back, in a disappointing way as Liril 2000- aloe vera soap with an element of freshness.It felt like Ekta Kapoor took it from Unilever, performed a plastic surgery using another actor known as Levers 2000 and re-introduced the character. It was disappointing for a true Liril fan. The simplicity of freshness was replaced with chaos, and finally what emerged was something without its soul in place. Maybe a lot of people won’t relate to it, but a true Liril fan would just know it. But what power does a consumer hold, finally it was Liril who wanted to change, did they really care for a loyal consumer? But still sometimes I buy it and try to look for my old Liril, maybe I will find it.

    One tends to fall for simplicity, it’s always comforting,and it gives you peace of mind. You get a sense of oneness with it, simple things click, they are long lasting and consistent with what your mind desires.Be it simple things or simple people, life is much better with them around.

    And chaos is disturbing, trying out too many things,thinking about too many things, and trying to hide your simplicity with randomness. One might try to change a lot, feel a lot different, but a person who knows, would always spot the difference and then try to disassociate from chaos. But chaos has its own fans, and they are very different from those few who desire simplicity.

    What happens to the entity under change, what is its identity now? Well it’s for them to change, it’s their choice and person who knows the entity so well should also respect the change, whether it works for them or not. Still one tries to reach out for the simplicity which is still there, but hidden.

    I would always desire simplicity, and for things which move away from it, I will hope for them to be simple again.

    [I messaged Shaik and Dolu to find out a few brands which have had a chaotic rise, they couldn’t come up with anything major, stupid they are :), but I super miss having FMCG discussions with both of them. The discussion featured Dolu- the marketing guy, Shaik- the sales and distribution expert, Desi- the fact, figures and insights guy and harsh- the listener. Well all this is a bit unrelated to the post.]

    A bit more from earlier times on simple things,

    Hrishikesh Mukherjee – Simple movies, Simple life (http://beingdesh.blogspot.com/2006/10/hrishikesh-mukherjee-simple-movies.html)

    Who Enjoys It? (http://beingdesh.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-enjoys-it.html) (This one written somewhere mid SP days)

    Simple Things again…(http://beingdesh.blogspot.com/2010/07/simple-things-again.html)

  • Lonely Nuts

    Consider a pack of peanuts, crunchy roasted salted ones, the kind of which are awesome with alcohol, or the kind of which come from Bharuch in Gujarat, not very dry but the slightly greasy types without the chilkas.

    And then open the pack, divide them in a few parts and send them to Mumbai rains, Jaipur’s market, Delhi’s shopkeeper lanes and coaching centres, Howrah’s gullies, Pune’s garages and the sort of places where the really shiny good quality peanuts wanted to end up.

    Peanuts are comfortable, mostly their future is secure, just that it seems these peanuts have lost their crunchiness. They get soggy is Mumbai/Calcutta’s humidity maybe, or develop a powdery coating in the Delhi/Jaipur’s heat or get too greasy in Pune garages.

    And then there are few of these lonely nuts, who have ended up in places like Bareilly, I mean maybe they show that they don’t care, they have always shown that they don’t care but even these nuts would lose their shine soon.

    And some had the courage to go far far away, to U.S. and they too seem to have lost out on their munchability index.

    Work, money, comfortable life, tough life, lonely life, losing awesomeness, developing tan, talking too much, not talking at all, having fights, making new friends, losing friends, losing heart, losing faith, losing patience, losing weight, gaining weight, drinking, drinking alone, stopped drinking, work is good, work is bad, work is the same…

    Nuts have gone nuts!

  • Bachpan ka Hawww, Bani Jawani Ki awww…

    Remember when we were kids and,

    • Someone fired an abuse like the dreaded S Word
    • Someone’s pant dropped by mistake
    • Someone choked up after going on stage

    Or when we were even smaller kids,

    • Someone wetted/soiled their pants
    • Someone forgot the multiplication table of 6

    we all used to say Hawww…followed by a handsome serving of shame shame, and even pappi shame.

    But as kids become older, and become much more mature, and much more facebook-ish, they found newer avenues and awww… came into being

    Awww… for me and a few others is the most irritating expression ever invented, it smells, sounds & looks very artificial. My first tryst with awww… came during the much forgettable days at vyapaar school, where ever pic on facebook was celebrated as an event of great victory & awww-ness.

    Then there were always those awww… girls, or awww… sisters as someone called them a few days back, they connected with a bond which ran through their cheeks, all the pics were loaded on facebook, cheek to cheek, neck slightly tilted, and a firey grin to top it up, and then followed up with a zillion aww-full comments. I think this is something which runs across all the b-schools as I have recently noticed.

    Awww moments are not only female centric, they can be a male phenomenon as well, where supposedly cute n hot girls click pics with sincere and honest guys (our yearbook describes everyone in the batch like that), and then people post the same aww-some comments.

    Some people like it, some dont, I certainly don’t, its sometimes like the screeching sound of thermocol, or that of fingernails on blackboard for me, but everyone is free to use whatever they want to, people might the same about my pet MAHAAN, so its ok.

    I am just trying to point out a trend, that’s it…awww…kay.

    p.s.: name is inspired from a famous writing which shows quite a lot on the wall paintings from Gwalior en route to Delhi on Indian Railways 🙂

  • The Times of Holi – Edition 1

    Sometime in 1996, somewhere in Chhattisgarh

    “Bhaiya kuch fugge (balloon) dena, arre yeh nahi, who paani waale”

    “Lo Beta, 5rs ke 100, rang wagera chahiye”

    “nahi bhaiya, who le liya, Thank you”

    Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,

    • 2 packets of Gulaal– my favourite- Yellow and Violet, the weirdest of combos
    • 2 packs of water waala colour, 1 Solid (choti bottle), one regular in both red & green
    • This year I have given away with pichkari, no use, small streams of water are of no use, metal pichkaris as shown in Sholay are not good too. Me and my friends have come up with a set of plastic bottles, cut & twisted to form nice pichku devices with maximum impact
    • Fuggas which need to be made into chotu hand grenades filled with water color
    • A set of old clothes, the only festival in the world where o0ne wears that. Although on television nowadays they show people wearing Super White clothes on Holi I think it’s a stupid idea. Every year this was the day when we dispatched our worst clothes (mostly torn by EOD). Although one of my friends use to wear the same trouser every year for holi (something which I tried on later)

    I woke up early, and we did a small pooja at home. Post that I applied Parachute Nariyal Tel on my body & face and hair. A yucky feeling but its ok, as everyone says it will help in removing the colour later on. And then I move out of C-655 Kaveri Vihar.

    Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.

    Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…

    After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
    After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.

    Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.

    Never better than at Korba…

    This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.

    Hope you have read the Navratri collection,