Money can buy hapiness!!!

We are told that money cant buy happiness!!! But all I say is just try it, you might end up buying that too.

If you ask me, I would say today I did spend Rs 500 or rather should I say gave away Rs 500 and feeling richer than ever.

Actually a youth had met me at my office a couple of days back, requesting our health reporter to publish an appeal seeking monetary help for his younger brother's surgery. I did find them genuine because i think that a 14 year old cant fake the expression of pain and his face needed no explanation. But today the guardian came again and said that he had just Rs 500 and needed 1500 to get the scanning done. He requested me to ask my colleagues and arrange for the money. First thing

what came to my mind is either these people might give pittance like 5 or 10 rs, or they might talk ill saying that these people are not real.

I dint think twice, just took a 500 rupee note from my wallet and gave it to him. He gave me a blank expression and dint know how to react. I said this is all i can do and he left quite contended.

Frankly speaking, i am not the generous kind and actually keep calculating the money i have spent and if i think i have overspent, then will ensure to make up for that by sacrificing other things. But today, i just dint think twice after giving the money.

I am not writing this to scream how great i am, or all that crap but to scream out to you that its really a great feeling : a feeling of giving ... And I think my money did buy me happiness today.

Crime Reporters are not GOD!!

I am not such an established crime reporter yet, but still have begun to feel the heat of this profession. In this four months' experience as a crime reporter with The New Indian Express I have learnt that people consider us to be very much like God. I mean ... Anybody has a problem, they rush to us.
Talking about my latest experience, one of our office managers, came to me saying that his wife's chain was snatched while she was walking towards her residence. Alright, like a decent reporter , I jotted down every detail from where she was coming from, how was the chain, where was she going, what time, which direction etc etc etc. Though our paper has stopped writing about the chain snatching complaints (Cos it is very comman and our paper lacks the space) I wrote this one which even got published. The story should have ended here right?
Wrong, I have this man asking me as what happened to his chain.. For God sake how would I know that? I am not the one who snatched. Did you tell the commissioner? did they find the chain? when will I get it? and with a zillion such questions, this man haunts me everyday. Seriously, even I am praying to God that let this man get hsi chain as soon as possible, so that I am spared...
This is just an example, we face such problems each day, where people approach us with a lot of hope and expectations without understanding that we too are just like them, serving a job.

kissa mobile ka

Even with a number of  reasons to crib and cry, and also being the youngest brat reporter with loud mouth in office, fighting over silly issues I kind of love this profession which fills in joy in minute things. We learnt it in college and my crime beat always made me feel that for us,"Bad news is always good news"... But now I also think otherwise.

Actually about two months back, a young boy with red face came to my office worried and said that his Nokia N95 was stolen and he requested  me to pressurise the police. I could totally understand the boy's plight because I know what I went through when my phone was stolen. Had cried, was depressed, irritated ... everything. Even after two years i haven't found it, so tried to convince this chap to forget his mobile and move back to Delhi, where he hailed from.    

But after I spoke to the police, the boy in a very convincing manner said, "after talking to you, i am sure I will  get my phone back." God knows, how and what happened, and thanks to the sub inspector of Madiwala police station, Chandrappa  who traced the mobile phone wiyhin two months.  

I was SHOCKED!!! and happy too. Just when I had started believing that these men in khaki were duffers and Kamchors , i was up for a surprise. Though the police deserved the credit, the boy always said, "Its all because of you"

Frankly! felt great about the entire episode  and by writing this in my blog, i am just attmpting to credit the unsung heroes (The Banaglore police).

It HURTS...when a language can claim a life

I have been following the Mukarram's shootout case and the following day of the incident, there was a huge hulla hu at the Ulsoor police station when his family members visited the station to narrate their version of the incident. The entire media industry thronged the station, hitting, pushing abusing, actually forgetting that where and why they were at that place.
If reporters were trying to get a new and "Exclusive" angle for heir story, the Photographers just exhausted their batteries by freezing every possible moment. Not just the family members, but even the policemen were not spared....for example as the ACP of Ulsoor division, GB Manjunath entered the station, he was treated like a star as the photographers clicked every step of his.(he was just left to wave and give throw kisses in the air) I am sure, he would have never ever dreamt of such a welcome.
Now it was the time for the moment, and as the family came out of the Inspector's cabin, the media persons thronged at them and as the story had already gained national attention, media men of Hindi, English and Kannada were present in a huge number. Nothing less than "BHOOKE SHER" all of them tried to get the family's bit, without realising as how sensitive the issue was for the family. Especially, after all the papers had taken the headlines screaming "Mukarram was shot after the military men heard him speak in Urdu."
The reporters again began fighting and trying to decide whether the family's would speak in Kannada, or Hindi or in English first. While they were fighting among themselves with questions like, tell us what happened, batayi apka kya baat hua hai police ke saath, nimma bedikegalu yenu, what s your next step, blah blah blah....
one of the family members who fumed at this cried, Kannada be nahi Hindi be nahi, Urdu me baat kar ba... Mukarram Urdu me bath kiya to mar dale na.. Humko be marne do...
This is unfortunately what the minority community feels in this nation which proudly flaunts of having the highest number of spoken languages...But who is to be blamed for this, is it the minority's thinking or the majority's created situation and suspicion on smaller than the smallest incident, or the media which tries to make a statement without feeling the emotions?
Will there be any solution?