Lines from the book of life

Ek subah aisi bhi thi...

2012-01-19T03:52:00.002+09:00

Aankh khuli toh savera tha
Baahon mein tera roshan sa chehra tha
Kal raat ki unn silvaton ko odh kar, dil kiya phir so jaaun
Teri muskurahat ki dhoop mein ek baar aur kho jaaun

Hua toh kuch nahi vaise kal raat, par phir bhi kitna kuch ho gaya
Tujhe lagake seene se, ek arsey baad main chaien se so gaya
Khwaab bhi jaise maano chandni mein dhuley huey thhey
Jannat ke jaise saare darwaaze hi khuley huey thhey

Thand toh bahut thi aas paas, par jism mein ek haraarat thi
Lagta hai jaise iss nasamajh dil ki koi shararat thi
Dua kar raha tha main ki tu karwat na badle
Mann kar raha tha, ek aur baar tujhe laga loon galey

Dil ke korey panno pe jaise likh gayi thi tu kuch
Aakhien bandh, labh khaamosh, par keh rahi thi tu kitna kuch
Pal yeh beet jayenge, iss baat ka zara darr bhi tha
Kuch dil ki karestaani thi, kuch aisa mahol bhi tha

Bas yehi soch kar thoda main bhi muskuraa liya
Ki inn chand palon mein main khul kar jee toh liya
Baahon mein leke tujhe, main phir so gaya
Teri uss muskurahat ki dhoop mein phir kho gaya…

What’s there in a name?

2012-01-13T21:19:00.001+09:00

William Shakespeare (may he sleep sound in his grave) couldn’t have been further from the truth when he quoted this. I mean, let alone the fact that in today’s scenario, it’s a person’s name that decides everything, from the ease in getting an e-mail address to a customer support executive being able to pronounce it, even in the times that have been, I am sure names played a significant part. Just imagine, for instance, if a dear friend of Shakespeare found his name too cumbersome and decided to shorten it to Willy Shake, out of affection, the kind of embarrassment it would’ve caused! Alright, maybe ‘willy’ wasn’t the slang for the instruments back then, but there must have been an alternative.

Sometimes I think parents name their children based on how much they love or hate them. Like this one bloke I bumped into, for example. His name was Samay (Time, in English). Needless to say, the rest of the evening was spent making him the butt of every joke. Like when he stopped dancing, people quipped “look! Time has stopped”. Reminds me of one of my ex-super bosses. He said that when the time came to name his kids, he came up with endless options and then sat down to figure exactly how each one of them could be mutilated and turned into a joke. And then froze on the two names that seemed most immune. Now, that’s a fine example of fatherly love!

For those who will probably pick on me saying I am quoting Willy boy out of context and the complete quote was "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.", I differ. Everyone has a name that suits their persona. It’s all about spotting it. Like I know these two sisters, Sandhya and Roshni. Incidentally, Sandhya is as fair as the white wedding dress of a bride and Roshni, well, let’s just say she can never make an image for herself, she can only make a silhouette. Not that I am complexion biased, it’s just that their parents could have reversed the names of the twins because not only is it a complete opposite of their skin colour, it’s also an opposite for the kind of people they are. Sandhya is vivacious, outspoken, restless, and always on the edge whereas Roshni is calm, sober, passive to the point of being a mannequin.

Coming back to the point, names are rather significant. Hence, there should be a few basic rules that should be followed any deviation from the rules should be penalised.

Ease of pronunciation: Absolutely not open for a debate. Names being internationally pronunciation friendly is a must. Take it from someone who has heard his name being mutilated to an extent that he chose to cut it short. Me. Or like this friend of mine, Shahnaaz. Lovely name (lovely girl, too) with a lovely meaning. Means The Royal Pride and translates into ‘a princess’ but a nightmare to pronounce, for those who’re challenged in that regard. On the other hand, there is this friend of mine called Jim (no, not Morrison). One simply can’t go wrong with a name like that!

Ease of spelling: As I see it, all names should be spelt phonetically. Again, comes from someone who has borne the brunt. Me. Like this woman called Kkashish. So, should one stress on the ‘K’? Or Schwarzenegger, for example. I know very few people who get it right.

Avoid religious connotations: Because if one doesn’t, in case of a communal riot or ethnic cleansing drive, one might be, let’s say, rogered. Better safe than sorry, as it’s said. Like with people named Bhagwaan or Christian. What will happen to them if they are caught by fanatics?

Should sound good: Meaningful or less, they should sound good. Like there is this friend of my parents’ called Drishtipriya. Fine meaning but a torture on the tongue! And sound terrible. On the other hand, look at names like Tom, Joy, Rita, Anita etc. One just can’t go wrong with these!

As it is, in India, with the whole multi ethnic, multi cultural brew, finding the right name is probably just as tough as bringing up the child itself because a name is something that sticks. It’s one’s identity!

So, I am all set for Willy Shake’s nightmares tonight because he will clearly not like me taking a dig him. And this has turned out to be a long post. I am bored and have been remarkably patient about writing this, given my serious ADD. Hope you liked reading it and saw a semblance of sense in it too.

Adios.

The language that used to be called English

2011-03-18T20:52:00.001+09:00

Last night, I received a ‘text’ from friend which read: i m gd. hw hv u bn? lng tm! wna cth p smtm? trng 2 gt in tch fr a whl nw. gv m a bz n lts tk. wt sy n hwr thngs newyz?
It took me almost 15 minutes to figure the damned thing out. What it turned out to be was: I am good. How have you been? Long time! Want to catch up sometime? Trying to get in touch for a while now. Give me a buzz and let’s talk. What say, and how are things anyway?

Clearly, with such a complicated dialect of English that has emerged over the past few years, the need for cryptic codes has diminished rapidly. Funnily enough, this dialect is neither recognized officially nor taught in school. So how does it still manage to be propagated so widely? Here are a few reasons:

TEXTing: Also called SMSing, which is again, short for Short Messaging Service. Every ‘text’ is charged per character and so, understandably, conjunctions (one of the eight parts of speech) and vowels (A…E…I…O…U, for those who do not remember them, thanks to too much TEXTing) are wiped clean from every ‘text’ to try and pack in as much information as possible, within the permitted 160 odd characters. It’s like a telegram. Except that it mutilates the language beyond recognition. The end result reads like the ‘text’ above. The race to conserve characters leaves English looking pretty characterless. Pun unintended.

The solution: Someone needs to send these policy makers back to school to get their language and grammar right. They need to be given a Wren and Martin as a standard issue perhaps.

Uncle Sam: English was supposed to be, for quite some time, a language Great Britain had a monopoly on. Those were the days when English was pure. And sweet. It had complete spellings, a clearly defined pronunciation guide, unambiguous grammar and all the parts of speech intact. Then, sometime in the mid 20th century, a new kind of colonization emerged. Linguistic colonization. Led by the notorious Uncle Sam, it was nothing short of a jihad or a crusade. There was a systematic elimination of pillars that bolstered the language. Z replaced S, so organiSation became organiZation and realiSe became realiZe. Letters we needlessly butchered and as a result coloUr became COLOR, judgEment turned into JUDGMENT. Z came to be pronounced as ZEE and computers started to sound like COMPUDRS. Even worse route (pronounced ROOT) became route (ROUT, which, in British English, has an entirely different meaning) and Iran became I-RAN (sometimes I really feel like asking Uncle Sam: where the hell did you run?). To ensure complete efficacy of this “Final Solution of the English question”, softwares like Microsoft Word began to set their default language to ‘English (U.S.)’ and promptly displayed a red line under the word when you typed the conventionally correct spellings. Talk about annihilation!

The solution (not to be confused with “Final Solution of the English question”): To begin with, set the default language to English (U.K.). So what if the software is from Uncle Sam’s land? It doesn’t mean we bow down to linguistic tyranny. Next, get the pronunciations right. ROUT to ROOT. ZEE to Z. I-RAN to IRAN. Third, if you can, go and bonk Uncle Sam on the head. Really hard.

KPO a.k.a. Knowledge Processing and Outsourcing: I am still a little hazy on the exact difference between a KPO and a BPO but one thing I know for sure is that whatever they process, it is definitely not knowledge. I mean, come on, there used to be a time when graduation was known to be the basic level of qualification one had to achieve in order to live a decent and comfortable life. Needless to say, since the benchmark of education was much higher, so was the knowledge of languages and their understanding. Then came the outsourcing boom. A boom that blew everything to smithereens. Another covert attempt at colonisation by Uncle Sam. Kids barely out of their teens, with an incomplete education, were being offered plum jobs; their pronunciation was being forcibly altered to suit Uncle Sam’s needs. Obviously, is kids of an impressionable age were offered such high paying distractions, they were bound to fumble!

The solution: If you have siblings, kids, nephews, nieces or any other relatives in that age group, deter them from the KPO life. Tell them KPO is a misnomer! Attack the root of the problem.

Sure there must be more reasons, and you’re welcome to point them out, but off the cuff, these are the three that struck me. Sure, I may sound archaic when I say that the language used in ‘text’ messages are a little difficult for me to decipher but that is not because I am averse to adapting, I just refuse to sit back and accept the mutilation of a language that brings me my bread and butter. Nothing personal. I mean, to evolve is one thing and to wipe out is quite another. Besides, it is a global language and hence any change will affect communication around the globe.

Till we restore English to its former glory – let’s keep the torch burning and the protest alive. Long live the revolution.

तारीख

2011-02-08T18:49:00.001+09:00

कमरे की सफ़ेद दीवार पे
एक पुराना कैलेंडर टंगा हुआ है
और उन् कागज़ के पन्नो में
सिमटी हुई हैं कुछ यादें

वो घड़ियाँ तो बीत गयी
पर उन् लम्हों की महक ताज़ा है
चाहे जनवरी की ठण्ड में ठिठुरती यादें हो
या जून की गर्मी में झुलसती हुई

कुछ तारीकें
पेंसिल से काटी हुई हैं
उस इंतज़ार की याद में
जो कभी पूरा नहीं हुआ

अखबारवाले के हिसाब से लेकर
कुछ चुनिन्दा लोगों के जन्मदिन तक
सब इस पुराने कैलेंडर के भरोसे ही तो
याद रहता था मुझे

जब भी इस कैलेंडर को देखता हूँ
लगता है जैसे वक़्त थम गया है
महसूस होता है जैसे
बीती तारीखें वापस लौट आई हैं

एक सुकून मिलता है दिल को
के बीता हुआ कल जाते जाते
कुछ सुनहरी तारीखों की
यादें छोड़ गया है

Little joys of life…

2011-01-31T04:48:00.000+09:00

Ever since I started working, life has, in a way, come to a standstill. Office, work, party and sleep. That seems to have become the routine. In between all this, sometimes there is a cup of tea at the neighbourhood tea stall where conversations segue from the most inspiring to completely banal. During one such discussion last week, an interesting topic came up. A topic that brought back the nostalgia of college, of the years we had spent growing up and of the dreams we had seen.

This tea stall is a place where tea costs Rupees 6 and the conversations are free but priceless. But the best part is that here we can exercise our credit limit endlessly. This is the reason why the conversation began. We realised we were Rupees 30 short and we told the owner we would pay him later. But just then, someone asked for another cup and as a chain reaction, so did everyone else. Somebody in the group just mentioned, “do you remember the way we used to run short of cash when we were students?”

Memories came flooding back. I remembered the time we used to sneak out of home to catch a late night show. The time when neighbourhood tea stalls used to be our stronghold. Someone dug up the memories of getting drenched in the rain and binging on any kind of edible, cooked substance that was classified food. The time when one cigarette was shared between 4 people and Old Monk was the warmest companion of winters. A lavish birthday party would only mean “you will be fully fed” and weddings at friends’ places were always welcome because it gave us limitless access to food. On the days of an absolute cash crunch, we would share one plate of idly or a dosa or a sandwich between three people, with everyone aiming for the lion’s share. We would borrow friends’ bikes to drop pretty girls home, in the hope that something constructive would materialise. With some people, it was always “pay for me now and I will pay you later” when we went to the movies. That “later” never came. The hassles of exams and attendance brought back incidents that we would have rather forgotten. But looking back, it seemed fun. There were deadlines and curfew timings at home, but post that was when the fun began. A mobile phone was a luxury with call rates that meant we could only give missed calls. For the ones with girlfriends, it meant huge (by student standards) bills. Which in turn meant that we would have to lie at home for extra cash, and innovative lies at that!
Playing pranks on teachers and creating a ruckus was commonplace and so was the resultant “get out of my class”.

If I start making a list, I will probably run into hundreds of pages. But the important part is that we all realised that somewhere, along the years, we have probably forgotten how much those little, insignificant moments meant and how much we have missed them in the work life. Those years seemed so long back in the past!

It rekindled a flame, the embers of which, were dying out and as I end this piece, I will just say that let’s not allow anything to interrupt the little joys of life because these are the moments one savours. Let us raise a toast to a promise that we will live and breathe such moments every day. What say?

Kaash...

2011-01-20T18:41:00.000+09:00

Intezaar hai mujhe tumhara

Kyon, yeh pata nahi

Bas aisa lagta hai jaise

Bina tumhare zindagi mein koi khalal hai

Kehne ko toh roushan hai yeh zindagi

Par zehen ke kisi koney mein

Ek gehra andhera jaise

Ghar kar baitha hai

Yaad aati hai tumhari jab bhi

Ek khushi ki leher daud jaati hai mayoosi ke beech

Aur pal bhar ko mann karta hai

Sameyt loon inhe tinka tinka karke

Par jaise yaadon ki raet pe

Likha tumhara naam

Gumm ho jata hai

Haqeeqat ki aandhi mein

Ghadiyaan lamha lamha kar beet jaati hain

Par na tumhari khabar aati hai

Aur na hi intezaar ke samundar mein

Saahil kahin dikhta hai

Pata nahi kashti ko sahara milega

Yaa doob jayegi isi samundar mein

Bas itni ummed hai ki kal jab aankh khule

Toh tum paas baithi ho..kaash!

On the man they call the Mahatma

2010-09-17T22:47:00.000+09:00

To begin with, this piece is not to hurt the sentiments of those who believe in him. Neither is it political propaganda. It’s just an average Joe’s take on Mr. Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi a.k.a Mahatma Gandhi.

Having said that, lately I have come across way too many people who scream from the rooftops to tell the world how great a man he was. At least for me, it was way too many people to handle. So here’s my response.

First of all, with my limited intellect, I fail to see how a man who was never on the frontline of the Indian independence movement, be called the greatest of heroes! Before someone misinterprets that statement, let me clarify that by ‘frontline’ I mean someone who was there in the thick of the action – like Lala Lajpat Rai, who suffered fatal injuries during the “Simon Go Back” agitation when the Simon commission was setup. Or Bhagat Singh, who took the battle to the enemy’s turf! For me, that’s a true leader. Not a man who sits at the command station while his followers are assaulted.

Second, I do understand that Mr. Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was a believer in non violence but there is a very fine line between being non violent and being blind. During the Non Co-operation Movement of 1920, when the Chauri Chauraha incident occurred, why did he call off the movement? Did he not realize that the people he was leading were not a herd of sheep? Their patience had limits and the British had breached it a few times too much. I am not justifying needless violence but I do not advocate the “slap my other cheek too” logic either. People had quit their jobs, schools, colleges and changed their entire way of life! And a good leader is supposed to be good at reading his followers’ minds. Mere criticism of subjugation doesn’t really prove to be a constructive solution.

Third, please, somebody, remind me again – why is he called the Mahatma? I mean, I haven’t really come across any articles on his enlightenment. Follow a leader. Respect him. Be proud of him. Buy why on earth should he be given the status of a demigod? Just because he preached non violence? Russia, France, America and China have all undergone violent revolutions. And yet they are more developed and better placed than we are. So, what does that say? And yet their leaders are not worshipped.

Fourth – why do we have only Gandhi on our currency? Does it mean that the contributions made by Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad, Jatin Das, Subhash Chandra Bose, Lala Lajpat Rai, Khudiram Bose, Ashfaqullah Khan, Rash Behari Bose, Ram Prasad Bismil and Rajguru not significant enough? Or is it because we called him the father of the nation since he was the only one in the list to have survived the struggle? Frankly, I find it a tad bit surprising that he was the only one to live through the whole period. Looks like non violence does have its perks!

To add to that, Nathuram Godse, the man who shot Mr. Gandhi was once his follower. So is it possible that somewhere he had let his followers down to an extent that one of them actually decided to put an end to it all? I mean come on, anyone who undertook an attack like that would have know that he didn’t even have a snowball’s chance in hell to get out alive. Yet he did it. Why?

Again, I was not present there. I am too young to have been there so I am not making a moral judgement. Just asking a few questions. Making a few statements. Any answers?

Reflections…

2010-08-26T14:35:00.000+09:00

Life was a baffling puzzle,

In the scorching heat,

I sought a little drizzle.

And at times, a retreat.

The world was a buzzing place,

But in my lonely heart,

I often fell asleep pondering,

And woke up with a start.

What was I looking for?

I didn’t really know.

Where I was headed,

I didn’t want to go.

Life was a baffling puzzle,

In the scorching heat,

I sought a little drizzle.

And at times, a retreat.

I stayed up nights,

Looking at the lights.

Filled with fathomless gloom,

Like preparing for my doom.

But one single morning,

Changed it all.

When you walked into,

That empty hall.

All it took was,

One look at you.

And the whitewashed walls,

Turned into a million hues!

Your sparkling eyes,

Like the untamed sea.

Sometimes an open book,

Sometimes, a mystery.

I wished I could hold,

The sands of time.

Or let it be lost,

In the labyrinth of my rhyme.

But time is a wily beast,

It flew.

Leaving me with,

Memories of you.

Then I saw you again,

Walking down the street.

I think I skipped,

Just one heartbeat.

Today it’s been,

A long, long time.

And I am trying to capture time again,

In the labyrinth of my rhyme.

So I can spend a moment with you.

With your memories.

Forget my mundane life.

Escape all my worries.

We knew each other,

For a very short while.

But you infected me,

With the desire to smile.

So today in the scorching heat,

When I look for a retreat,

All I do is think of you,

And lose myself in your million hues…

With love, from India.

2010-07-15T18:40:00.000+09:00

Acknowledgements:

Joel Stein – for the wonderfully written piece of trash with insecure and spiteful undertones. (http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1999416,00.html

Rahul Parikh – for the truly amazing comeback to Joel Stein’s article which inspired this piece. (http://edition.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/07/13/parikh.stein.rebuttal/index.html?hpt=C2&fbid=Ee7Dj34bC72)

Kapil Dhawan – for posting the link to Rahul Parikh’s article.

Now, let me have my take on what Joel Stein had to say. And let me be very clear that this piece is not about insulting Americans in any way because I personally know some really nice Americans. It is just a rebuttal to Joel Stein’s “humorous” piece.

To begin with, for a nation Joel Stein so kindly referred to as poor and not-so-bright, we have had way too many “bright” people that the world admires. In fact, if one types “famous Americans” on Wikipedia, there is a list of 33 names that springs up. If one types “famous Indians”, on the other hand, the list runs into pages. Moreover, there is a separate list which talks of famous “American Indians”. And guess how many names are listed? 347! The names span all walks of life. So, looks like we are not that “not-so-bright” after all, are we? As for being a poor country, we’re one of the fastest growing economies in the world, besides holding a roster entrepreneurs who lead some of the largest organizations in the world. Yes, we are poorer than America but that is also probable because we do not go around declaring wars on smaller countries, accusing them of hoarding weapons of mass destruction, while the actual objective is just to acquire oil reserves. Plus, the world knows the reality of the American dream and how fulfilling (note sarcasm) it is!

Now coming to culture. India has had a civilized history is one of the oldest in the world. We have a menu of languages that is as varied as our spicy cuisine. And we do not borrow foreign languages, mutilate the spellings like changing “colour” to “color”, rape the grammar and try to make the world follow our version of the ravaged language. India is the place where Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism originated. And Rabindranath Tagore has been rated to be a multi faceted genius, second only to Leonardo Da Vinci. Moreover, an average Indian with a mother tongue other than Hindi grows up learning three languages at least! One look at politics will also clear the fact that India has already achieved the feat of putting a woman in the highest office of the country. America hasn’t. But despite all these achievements, our idea of the world doesn’t just revolve around India. We do not say that if aliens ever invade, it will only be India, or Indians are the only ones who will put up a fight. Neither do we say that every volcanic eruption, vampire epidemic, tectonic shift of earth’s plates has to begin or occur in India. Our view of the world pans 360 degrees.

Having said all of that, yes we do have our share of black sheep as well. But we have Charles Shobhraj, America has Jack The Ripper! Point being, nothing is black or white. Not viewpoints, not issues, not people. It is all grey. And I think considering the fact that most of the population that has moved to America is a part of the cream in their generation, if anything, Joel Stein should be thankful to us Indians. And I would like to agree with Rahul Parikh on the fact that a meaningless footnote for an apology doesn’t work. It just doesn’t. And next time, please leave the humor to people who know a thing or two about it.

250 miles of insanity!

2009-10-18T18:27:00.001+09:00

I am back! Offer your brains so I can feast on them.

Ok. Fine. Don’t. Selfish people. Want to keep all your brains for yourself! Anyway, let me get on with what I wanted to say. Lots and lots…and lots of things have been happening and like always, it’s a blend of “oh so painful” and “oooh so nice”. And in the middle of all this is me. So then, without further ado, let me begin.

Keeping in sync with my affinity for things unplanned (except for a few situations, of course) I suddenly decided that since Jaipur is not that far off and most people who mattered were either out of Delhi or out of touch, it will be a nice idea to hop on to a bus and go to the Pink City for Diwali. The idea was great but the execution, not quite. To begin with, the buses starting from Bikaner House in Delhi were supposedly “full” and employees there could be seen openly selling tickets in black and making what they called “Diwali profit”. A press card or a police ID proved extremely helpful though, as I later found out. The bus rolled out of Bikaner House at sharp 1.15 in the morning. At least punctuality was a virtue the RTDC still has. Now, I was on the seat in the middle of the last row. Shaky but spacious. At least I could stretch my legs, though it’s a different thing that parts of my body like the neck, would also get stretched but that was inevitable. Then I suddenly saw this woman walk up to me and stand right in front of me, moving her head left and right like she was watching a tennis match! My estimate said she was around 29, unless she used one of those anti aging creams. So then she sat down and handed over her bag asking me if I could shove it under the seat in front of her. I did. Then it happened! Like the Tsunami…like a volcanic eruption…like a hail of bullets from an air raid…like Rajnikanth’s 60 kicks in a second…she started rattling away at a speed so fast that I doubt if even Michael Schumacher could keep up. The topics included things like how the government servants were cheating people out of money and how her uncle, a crime reporter had secured her a comfy seat, among a zillion other things. Finally, after 20 minutes of a monologue, I guess she lost steam. And went on the mute mode. The experience was so intense that I took me a good 40 minutes to get my concentration back to my Sudoku book. But my ordeal wasn’t over. The two guys sitting on my left then started off in a language that I presume was Hebrew or Arabic. All I could make out was that they sounded like they were clearing their throats repeatedly. I even thought of offering them cough drops. No offence meant though. They went on talking and talking like they’d had a crate of Red Bull. And people say I am talkative.

Suddenly the bus halted. Two guys got in. And one of them reached his seat bonking against the lofts on either sides. The guy was visibly and audibly “high”. Stoned off his mind or sloshed beyond repair, I don’t know, though. His friend had a sheepish “I apologise” look on his face. Once on his seat the stoned/sloshed chap started eating. And boy could he eat!! By the time he finished, there were 6 empty packets of chips, 4 chocolate cake packets, 4 empty sandwich packets, all tossed on the floor of the bus. Instinct told me to kick him in the groin and tell him to pick it up. Even better, stuff it in his mouth. But it wasn’t needed. The conductor did the rest. Though, the being a Volvo, the smell lingered on for a while. Then this guy caused a nuclear explosion. Now I know what people in Hiroshima would have felt like. And I am not elucidating the point.

Somewhere in the middle of all this and old Bollywood music, I dozed off. But I was shaken up, literally by the “firing” woman next to me. She woke me up like either the bus had been hijacked or set on fire. I saw the bus entering a food court run by RTDC. She said she had to go…(you know, go for emergency) and if I would look after her bag. It was more a statement than a request and in my zonked state of mind; I must have nodded my approval because she bolted for the door, stepping on my foot in the process. Bored to the edge of my seat, i got off the bus and got myself an apology for a frappe for Rs. 25 at the counter. As the bus began to leave the RTDC Midway, I climbed back on and sat in the bus. Rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful.

On reaching Jaipur, I walked up to the local bus stand out of my sudden desire to travel in a local bus here. It was 7 in the morning and the guy issuing the tickets was smoking beedi after beedi, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the monstrous board right outside the counter that said “Smoking Prohibited. Fine upt o Rs. 200”. So I clicked a nice little picture of him with smoke rolling out of his nostrils and told him and if he didn’t shut that thing off right then, then I would walk up to the nearest police station and get him arrested. He scowled. I scowled back. He grunted, I growled. And after such show of power, he had no choice. I took my ticket and just then it started raining. So I ran under one the tea stalls and drank tea, accompanied by fruit cake from “Rachna Backery”. Decent fruit cake. When I walked back to the terminus, the guy stubbed out his beedi the moment he saw me! I was proud of myself and saw an elderly woman smile gratefully. Nice start to the day it was. The bus came in. And I hopped on for another journey. But that’s for later. That’s quite another story!

Adios.

Gods Wanted

2009-07-30T14:52:00.002+09:00

I had been suffering from an extreme lack of ideas all this while. Hence, no post. But today, out of the VIBGYOR, I thought of something. Here it is:
The world is changing. And fast! Infrastructure, technology, science and everything else, is undergoing a drastic change. Why should mythology and divinity be any different? In addition to the good old Gods, we need a few young and contemporary ones too. So here is a look at how the recruitment ad for these new Gods will look like.
The department of Divine Resource Management is recruiting for the positions mentioned below. The salaries are negotiable with additional perks like 50% of food and money offered to the deity by devotees. Please read the roles and responsibilities carefully before applying.

God of Traffic Control

The candidates should be skilled in traffic management with minimum 1 year of experience in managing Godly duties. Candidates from departments like War, Wisdom and Destruction will be given preference. Role will include managing traffic in the busy centers, miraculously fixing malfunctioning signals, answering prayers about reducing traffic etc. Ideally, the candidates should be between 40 – 150 years of age, and should, in no way exceed 200 years. Additional responsibility includes cleaning up after accidents as well.

God of Reality Shows

The candidates should be skilled in managing viewer mindsets. They should be well versed with the concept of TRPs and should respond quickly to prayers from producers, directors and viewers. Rewarding fair participation and punishing sleazy practices will also form a part of the role. Minimum 1 year of experience required. Candidates from Knowledge, Music and Intellect will be given preference. Age should not be more than 50 years. Computer literacy is a must.

God of Pollution Control

The candidates should have at least 5 years of experience in various departments. Role will include pollution control, rewarding environmentally aware creatures and punishing reckless creatures. Must respond to prayers from all species within 24 hours. Age should not be less than 200 years. Fraternizing with God of Natural Resources, God of Industrialisation and God of Capitalism will not be tolerated. God of Capitalism does not refer to the US.

God of Advertising

The candidate should specialize in conning techniques and influencing mindsets. Prior experience in any form of communication will be preferred. Should be able to respond quickly to any prayer from anyone in the advertising business. Perks will include a part of the profits. Age, preferably between 50 – 100 years.
All applications should reach the Department of Divine Bullshit, latest by doomsday. Applications received after that will not be tolerated. All applications can be mailed to holycrap@worship.com or alternatively, the candidate can call 1800 – HOLYCRAP for further details.

Till I write something stupid again…
Adios.

The circus is in town!

2009-04-20T07:06:00.000+09:00

Five years have passed and psephologists are busy again. The reason is obvious. The circus is back in town, with the complete ensemble of clowns, trapeze artists, flame throwers (they are particularly in demand) and ring masters! We have given this circus a very fancy name: election.

Gnawing away at the roots of the world’s largest democracy is the very crux of the democratic process! It all began with an irate journalist tossing a shoe at the home minister. Then another shoe was tossed at yet another politician. Surprisingly, both shoes missed the mark. I sometimes wonder, if they were meant to hit the target at all. Then suddenly all the political parties stood up and took notice of issues which had earlier vanished into oblivion. What followed was a spate of hate speeches against individuals, parties and religious segments, stomping the entire fabric of secularism. Graves were dug up, and the issues that had been put to rest were raked up again. All for a few votes!

Media is going berserk, holding debate after debate, trying to find sense in this insanity. However, I find a little tint of political alignment despite them claiming the analysis to be impartial. For the common man who casts the vote at the polling booth, it is nothing more than a choice between the devil and the deep sea. I mean really, are we as a country, despite our claims of rapid development, that retarded as a 62 year old democracy? Can we not find one single person in this milling crowd of 1 billion people who will lead the country without thinking about personal gains? Is this the picture that we want to give the world out there? And then we still wonder why tourists come to this country looking for elephants and snake charmers on the road! That’s the picture we have given the world out there. We have told them that we’re just a bunch of clowns.

As a friend of mine often says “we have made a Mickey of ourselves” in front of the whole wide world and we are projecting ourselves as an immature nation. Someone talks about age in politics, someone else picks up demolished mosques and religion as their favourite weapon and the rest, either follow the herd or say things that will probably not make sense even to a 5 year old. Grow up!

But all said and done, I don’t know how much of an impact a piece like this is going to make because I don’t even know how many people will read it. So till it does make a difference, watch the circus and make sure you get the tickets for the front row!

Adios.

That girl who changed me forever

2009-03-29T01:14:00.001+09:00

To begin with, this is not what I originally planned to write about. But things so happened that at this point in time, this is the foremost thought in my mind and hence, its here! Anyone who reads this: I DO NOT WANT SYMPATHY OR TOO MUCH ADVICE. Just a genuine and heartfelt prayer will do because what I am going to write about is extremely close to my heart.

I am in love with the most marvelous woman I have known. We were together for a brief period and then things so happened that she wanted to walk out. That was over a year ago. Since then, I have prayed, cried (and I do not do that very often), lived with a hope that she will be back. I even tried ways to stop loving her but nothing would just help! She got back with the guy she was seeing earlier and then she broke up with him again and is with someone else now…or so she tells me. But yes, in my heart I believe that I will win her back. She is probably at the juncture where I was when I was her age. She is 2 and 1/2 years younger than me. I am telling you, this woman is simply wonderful and I believe that one day she will see how much I love her and understand it. But till then, the wait is what hurts. I have never really loved a woman so much and if you have known me, you would know that I am not lying about this. Do me a favour, pray for me. Please.

Thanks…

How did I originate?

2009-03-02T22:32:00.000+09:00

Ok…it’s been a long time since I have blogged. So I am a little…sort of…umm…let’s say…alienated from the feeling. It’s like not having asked any girl out for a date for a long time and then when a girl pops out of simply nowhere…it feels strange. Nevertheless, let me make an attempt with the hope that you will like it.

After all these years of intense investigation and research, I have finally unearthed the secret of how I came to this world. Now, before you snigger and jump to conclusions, let me clarify that I am talking purely about my interpretation of why I am the way I am.

The year was 1983. The month was December. My parents got married and my paternal grandmother, for reasons known best to her, wanted a grandson. Such was a case with a lot of grandmothers back then but honestly, I personally find no reason to crave for a grandson. Anyway, my parents were obviously under a lot of pressure. So they got down to praying. And as we all know, a good bribe works well not just with humans but with deities as well. When their petition for a son reached God, He was pretty tempted by the various things he had been offered as a bribe so He decided to put this file on the express route. There were other couples who had also placed their petitions so all the humans manufactured at that point of time were booked. Now, when my parents’ petition reached the production department, the craftsmen were a little vexed. All that they had in surplus quantity were animals and some raw material. But the raw material itself was not enough to manufacture a human.

Now, God…being God…came up with a brilliant idea. He decided to mix and match things. Anyway, everything that God gives has a tag that reads “Goods once sold will not be taken back” so that ruled out any chance of an exchange! He picked up the raw material and gave it a human form. Then he picked up the porcupine and took off its hair. Hence I have hair that looks like a porcupine and no matter what I do, it keeps bouncing back to shapelessness. From the giraffe he picked up the height so I ended up being absurdly tall. I do not mean that I am the tallest you will come across but I think my height is absurd nevertheless. Though yes, on the positive side, it allowed me to date the most wonderful woman in the world and her being tall made me feel a little less absurd. For the ears and the nose, he roped in the dog and trust me, it is not one of the best things to have the ears and the nose of a dog because I have ended up hearing and smelling things I would have rather done without. From an elephant God picked up the appetite so I keep eating all the time! Damn! My nose was borrowed from a seal which is why it is round and broad. I mean…that’s one thing I hate about myself!! There are a few other thing I would not mention. In short, I am a mix and match of several species and once God had put me together, he marveled at the strange thing he had created. And for the past 24 years, my parents have time and again debated whether it was a good or bad to push God into sending them a little warped human so soon! No wonder they never wanted to have any more kids. Once bitten…twice shy after all!

Adios.

An extraordinary petition

2008-11-16T22:44:00.001+09:00

Hello Sir/Ma’am,

I have heard you’re the President of this country and have a lot powers in matters regarding the safety of all your citizens. Hence I am writing this petition to you because my life is in grave danger. Every successive day brings along new threats.

Let me introduce myself to you so that you are better equipped to understand the gravity of the matter. I am a house lizard and my name is inconsequential. What is relevant is that through my personal experiences, I speak for the millions like me around the world. I have been living in this house ever since I remember. I have adorned the walls of this house ever since childhood and was happy to feed on the insects and roaches in the vicinity. We were a happy family of three brothers and two sisters. Now, I am the only one left alive. Two bothers of mine lost their lives due to food poisoning because they ate up a roach that had been killed by a pest control spray. One of my sisters was killed by the same spray when it was sprayed all over her by this monstrous human. She died an agonizing and undignified death. I mean, killing the prey and predator with the same insecticide is shameful! It has shattered our respect and honour. My youngest brother was flushed away when he went to take a bath and drowned. I didn’t even have the chance to perform his last rites and give him a proper funeral and my youngest sister was shot dead, quite literally. In fact, the same adolescent human who shot my sister is now after my life, armed with a shotgun that fires plastic pellets. Maybe the humans can bear the impact of those pellets but we lizards are fragile creatures. We just resemble dinosaurs and alligators but we are neither as fierce nor as strong as them. In fact, I was under attack last evening and the human shot my tail off! I was supposed to take my girlfriend out to dinner in the loft since it has a marvelous supply of roaches and a variety of other insects but this incident put me through immense embarrassment because not just the other lizards, but even the roaches and flies were laughing at me, even while running for their lives! It was disgusting, to say the least. I do not know what harm I have caused to these humans. Maybe they do not realize that I am their most natural pest control agent with no side effects and my absence shall see the rise of the creepy crawlies in this house. My brown skin compliments the beige walls of this house and to strike up a friendship with humans, I also tired making attractive designs my contorting my body into various shapes, but to no avail. My food supply is dwindling rapidly and I am writing to you from behind the tube light holder where I have been hiding for the last two days. Please send the air force, army, paramilitary forces or whatever else is required to bail me out of here and save my life. Post that, I plan to sue these humans and will be highly obliged if you help me with a few references.

I am really looking forward to a positive response because anything else will be fatal for me.

Thanking you,
Yours sincerely,

The Little House Lizard.

WE the PEOPLE

2008-11-01T07:47:00.000+09:00

In a few moments of idleness today, I was sitting and thinking. Here is what I figured. It may not be a splendid read but might just make sense if you think over it and ponder for a few moments in your spare time, but spare time is a rare commodity and I shall not be least surprised if you find none in your busy schedule.

Throughout my life, I have often heard the elders talking about how our generation is way too different from them and how we have an entirely different perspective of looking at things. We all know that nothing happens without a reason and behind this seemingly different behavioural pattern too there is an array of reasons. Times have changed and so have we as humans. Whether we have truly progressed or regressed is debatable but here are a few things that might be the reason for us being the way we are!

We have seen and experienced a lot in these short spans of lives. To begin with, we belong to the generation that saw the turn of the millennium in their adolescence. Back in 1999, I hardly remember a person who I did not hear talking about Y2K, the year 2000. Almost everyone was talking about how the world would come to a standstill because computers wouldn’t work and things like that. It has been eight years since the turn of the millennium and nothing happened because the problems were taken care of. We belong to the generation that has seen the rise of wars and terrorism like no generation before us. From Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran to Kargil, there has been war everywhere! Terror strikes all across the globe have made us doubt the existence of humanity at times but in the race of everyday life, we have put all of it behind us. We watch the news and forget it. A lot of us are living in alien cities without our families and resort to social networking sites to keep in touch with who we call friends. I must confess that I am one of those myself and I have the time tested excuse “I have no time”. So today, saying hello to a friend means punching out a few words on the keyboard because that’s the easiest way out. We are probably a little more selfish than our predecessors but I think it is just the survival instinct coming into play. In this world, we have to live! We have seen messengers of humanity like Mother Teresa and others leave this world and that spreading fear is fast becoming the prerequisite to gaining respect. The differences between having sex and making love are fast disappearing and the idea of asking someone out for coffee is slowly losing its shelf life. Cigarette and dope sales are shooting through the roof in spite of the fact that we all understand what the flip side is. Are we then headed towards self destruction? No, not quite. I think it is just our way of combating the stress life subjects us to. In fact, the kids now growing up are probably having a harder time because the number of kids playing in a park on any given evening is dwindling rapidly. Looks like it will not be long before they go extinct and the idea of having a good time jumping around in the evening while getting all messy will be no more than a fable. Our lifestyle and we as people are undergoing a metamorphosis, thanks to the pressure that life subjects us to.

What then is the solution? Do we just sit and wait till doomsday to arrive? No. Though, I don’t want to make this sound like a moral science lecture because I don’t think I am qualified enough to deliver one by any parameter but maybe what we can do is sit for a while everyday and go over everything that happened. Maybe we can say hello to the people we really care about just once in a day to let them know that we are thinking of them. Maybe we can take a look at the old photographs and revive the memories entombed in them. There are a lot of things we can do. They need not be of epic proportions. They can be small things because sometimes small things make huge differences. Some people might have an excuse that they don’t have time but remember, nobody has the twenty fifth hour in the day and yet some manage to do all this. So does it mean they are more efficient than the ones who just crib about the lack of time? Think about it if you have a moment.

Adios.

Jihad? Oh really?!

2008-09-15T22:40:00.002+09:00

September 13, 2008. Five blasts ripped through Delhi, stunning everyone in addition to killing scores of people and injuring even more. Strategically placed at some of the most crowded spots of the city on a weekend, they were clearly designed to achieve maximum body count. All this was in addition to the three bombs that were diffused by the bomb squad.

To add to all this, the group Indian Mujahideen, which claimed responsibility for the blasts, had the audacity to send an e-mail to various agencies and claim that they did all this in the name of Allah and this was what they claimed to be jihad. I mean, get real people! Do these fanatical idiots actually think anyone in his or her right mind will believe such crappy claims?! Even before Delhi, they had targeted cities like Bangalore, Jaipur and Hyderabad. This is anything but a Holy War.
When a bomb goes off, it kills without discretion of any kind; be it race, gender, cast, creed and even religion. So much for religious motivation! These losers sound more like pseudo fanatics for whom killing is business, nothing personal. And these are the people who bring a bad name to all the people who have true faith in the same religion as these ********. Seriously, what are these buggers trying to achieve? Panic? If that is what they want then I suggest that they get the message loud and clear…we shall not chicken away from leading a normal life because we are not scared. What we will do is hunt each of them down and shoot them point blank. Taking silence to be timidity is the biggest sign of being an absolute jackass. Look, all of you “jihadis” out there, remember that we have a whole lot of people in this country who love living a normal life and if you mess around with the common man too much, you’re dead meat. Do not try to trigger a dormant volcano because the heat may be too much for you to take. Understand? What kind of cowards are these people who sneak a bomb into a place and scamper away? Little kids who have nothing whatsoever to do with any kind of a war died in these blasts or were seriously injured! I mean, these people are outright psychotic.

Trust me, the day people of this country mean business, you will have nowhere to hide. It’s just a question of time. Don’t push us too hard. You want war? We will give it to you but tell me, can you cowards face it? A lot of you, I am sure are Indians yourselves. You have grown up in these very cities that you’re now trying to destroy! What the F have you done with your conscience and humanity, you lousy buggers?! There could have been your friends, classmates, teachers and relatives among the people who died.

Get it straight. Either you mend your ways or we will do the honours for you and the day we lose our cool, we will hit you so hard at places that hurt that all of you will be reduced to mere crippled vegetables. Just for once, come up and face us if you have the you-know-what. We all await you.

Missing a heartbeat

2008-09-12T10:30:00.000+09:00

Alive I am, yet, not quite full of life
Like everyone, I breathe too
Yet somewhere, I am missing a heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

The day passes, and night settles in
Yet another date on the calendar turns
But I still miss that heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

To think with my heart I am told
I am told to give my mind a rest
But how do I think with a missing heartbeat?
A heartbeat that’s you…

Somewhere in this heart, your name resonates
Calling out to you aloud, hoping you’d hear
But silence greets this missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

I sometimes wonder if I will live
One beat less than others do
Because I just can’t find that missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…

Teachers...

2008-09-08T07:39:00.000+09:00

In my nearly 24 years of existence, I have been through the regular grind of school and college and have seen a lot of teachers. This post is in their honour and may just read a little different from the regular gibberish that I write.

My dad has been on the move throughout his career and every change of city meant a change of place, a change of schools and a change of life. Every change of schools brought along new opportunities, new challenges and new teachers. To be very honest, I never had the chance to be in one school for too long. So I do not remember all my teachers and my apologies to the ones whose names I have forgotten, but the learning has stayed on with me and I thank them for that. In a way, moving base repeatedly is a disadvantage because it means getting used to the teaching patterns of different teachers but then, in a way is has had its own advantages because I got to know a lot of people from different parts of the country with varying mindsets and opinions.

Though, in India, Teachers’ Day is celebrated in honour of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, one of the foremost teachers of he country and an ex-president of India but the true honour extends to every teacher throughout the world. I have come across various kinds of teachers in my life. In my student days, I met teachers who had faith in me and saw immense potential, teachers who told me I was good for nothing, teachers who tried bringing out the best in me my sheer encouragement and teachers who thought insults were the order of the day. I won’t deny that I didn’t like all my teachers. In fact, I immensely disliked some of them but they all added to my life in their own way.

For some reason, I have always had an affinity to my English teachers, except one. I guess somewhere it was the love for the language that made me perform better in their class. My chemistry with Chemistry wasn’t explosive but it wasn’t that bad either. History was something I always got muddled up with because I could never figure out who built what, who invaded which country and when, who was born when and definitely not who died when. Coming to Physics, we were always in harmonic motion and I actually liked the subject. Though, I remember, I could never understand back then that if light traveled in a straight line, then how light bulbs did and tubelights managed to light up a whole room! I could never quite get my linear equation right with Mathematics and I remember frowning at the very sight of that subject. But as I grew from school to college, the understanding increased a little.

Some of my teachers, I remember very clearly. I remember everything from their faces to their voices because they affected my life very deeply. Some for good and the others, well, no comments. Even today, there are people who teach me something I didn’t know and I guess this process of learning and teaching just goes on for everyone. Nevertheless, the base is built by the earliest of the teachers. Having said that, I remember my mom. She taught me a lot. And after all these years, she still hasn’t quite given up on her efforts to teach me. Amazing patience! Then of course, how can I forget this strange teacher called life?! It has been at it ever since I remember. Though I do not know how fruitful it has been.

In a nutshell, the process of learning and teaching are ceaseless and all of us keep jumping from one side to the other right from the cradle to the grave. The day one stops is the day one begins to wane. So keep learning, keep teaching and keep rocking.

Adios.

New age advertising

2008-08-18T21:48:00.001+09:00

Print advertising, TVCs and now, the web. Advertising has been exploiting avenue after avenue to surge ahead and influence consumers’’ mindsets on a very large scale. Today, advertising on the internet is catching up like a wild fire. The reach is global and the costs are much lesser. It is true that the reach of internet is not as widespread as the reach of print but it is growing rapidly. However, for every creative person in this business, print is probably the most exciting and challenging medium but the fact is that it is a still medium where a person’s vision is limited to a motionless graphic. Television and internet on the other hand can show much more. Internet has an even bigger advantage because it is far more interactive than the good old television. Besides there are a zillion blogs like this which dedicate themselves entirely to advertise and create communities of consumers, which obviously gives every consumer a feeling of fraternity and hence impacts the brand to a significant extent.
From viral campaigns to brand related games, there is everything to hold a consumer’s interest and propel him or her towards the brand for the desired effect. The latest example of this from Indian advertising is the viral cum game for Center Fresh, a bubble gum. Though legends like Ogilvy, Bernbach and Leo Burnett will always adorn the hall of fame of advertising but the truth is, the business is not that simple any more. Numerous possibilities have opened up. Talking about possibilities, outdoor advertising is another form of advertising that has found new meaning in the recent years. More than creativity, advertising is now a game of innovation and finding new media.
There is not a single aspect of a person’s life that has not been touched by this business and the influence just keeps growing. Radio is another medium that is entering the world of advertising in a big way. Standard painted billboards have been replaced by LEDs and from bus shelters to roads to mammoth building, nothing has escaped the “Brand Invasion”. Question is, is it good or bad? The answer is simple. Looking at the bigger picture, it is definitely good because it gives the brands a bigger chance to expand and creates an inspirational value that is unmatched. Though yes, looking at it with a magnifying glass, there are certain short-lived difficulties on the way. Like pressure to innovate increases manifold and properties that are hired for advertising might be a nuisance to people until they get used to it. However, I guess, we should always look at the bigger picture and enjoy the expansion and intrusion of this business into our lives.
Adios.

HELP people...

2008-08-18T21:05:00.000+09:00

Life is strange. I mean, there are so many things that one just has to do. There is this public image one has to maintain irrespective of what’s on a person’s mind and the other face is what the people close to a person know. Like right now, I am in a phase of life where I just want to run away from everything and be with myself but then, work demands attention too! Can’t compromise on that so have to work no matter what happens. The truth is, I miss Little T. A lot of people have asked me what her actual name is but sorry, nobody gets to know that. I just lost her without too much of a chance of a return and I am upset. Very upset. But then, things are not in my hand and she doesn’t look too keen on setting things right. I miss her. I really do. And if any of is reading this blog right now, please do me a favour, please pray on my behalf. I mean, I have tried everything under the Sun that can be called fair. And I really don’t want to play unfair when it comes to her because I will not be able to bear the guilt. And if there is an all pervading power, or God, or anything such as that, then that power isn’t responding to my pleas. Maybe He/She will respond to yours. I will be really obliged. Honestly, nobody has meant this much to me ever and I really miss her. Please help me out people. Please. You know, I have never really had anyone who could ever talk to her on my behalf and me doing it myself obviously sounded very cheap. She’s very angry with me and very upset. Really counting on everyone who reads this post. Thanks a ton!

Adios.

Funny hospitals

2008-08-01T02:57:00.001+09:00

The intrusion of doctors and scalpels in my life seems to be ceaseless. And for that, I have visited plenty of hospitals and I must say that contrary to popular belief, I have found hospitals to be pretty funny and amusing. All that one has to have is an observant eye.

My recent visit to this hospital particularly brought out the funny aspect. To begin with, I was made to sit in a freaking wheel chair. As it is, the wheel chair, needless to say, was a little too small for me and second, I felt so bloody handicapped! Now, coming to think of it, having a chauffeur driven chair wasn’t all that bad. In fact, I told the guy to speed up as we approached the operation theatre and I made sounds like a speeding bike. People staring at me must have thought I was headed in for a brain surgery to fix the wiring inside. Some even looked at me sympathetically!

Then once I reached the cutting up room (a.k.a. OT), I was told to change into the hospital uniform which looked more like an ill fitting space suit! And once again, neither did they have a uniform nor shoes my size. Now, I looked hilarious!

Oh! And did I tell you about the weighing machine? There is this monstrous (in comparative terms) weighing machine put right in the middle of the hospital which looks like it had been originally made to weigh elephants. And some people who hopped on it in fact were pretty close in terms of their weight. The highest was a man who weighed 250 kgs! Sheesh…that’s 2 and a half quintals!

Now I shall come to what happened in the OT. To begin with, the stretcher was a little too small as usual. And to add to that, the doc was talking on the phone! I mean, come on, there should be some law against doctors talking on the phone in the middle of a damned surgery.

Another thing I have noticed is that sometimes, people really try to put up a sad face when at a hospital, no matter how serious the ailment is. Like even if people have come in for a cold and flu, they have an expression like they are suffering from a terminal disease. I on the other keep grinning even in the face of surgeries. But then, I am crazy I guess.

Anyway, I am pretty bored of writing now. So I am signing off.

Adios.

A word of caution!

2008-07-09T05:32:00.001+09:00

After all this while in the world of advertising, here are some observations:

First of all, every advertising agency should put a board of statutory warning outside their offices which reads: “People with any semblance of sanity, please do not step in”. Like those signboards which hold the owners responsible for their cars parked in the parking lot.

Just in case some “maverick” ignores the board and decides to enter, do not be surprised if you find a paper ball crashing into your head out of the blue. It’s probably the creative team indulging in paper ball warfare. (See?! That’s why one should pay heed to signboards!)
At saner times, you might just find the people playing cricket. So please be careful not to step into the “ground”.

Second, a sincere word of advice: please do not come in at lunch time because it will probably make you feel that all the refugees of the world have just migrated to India. Sometimes I think that maybe even the chicken on the plate probably curses its luck for having ended up on that plate! It is like a pack of wolves devouring a prey (damn! It reminds me of an account I am working on)! And people in advertising can be found eating at all times. Especially the creative lot. We call it “FOOD for THOUGHT”. When it comes to food, we forget all cast, creed and various other biases…

Third. Either carry ear muffs or be prepared to hear a volley of the choicest of abuses being hurled from all corners of the office. They may not be targeted at you but they will get into your ears nevertheless. And if you’re IN advertising, please keep quiet while you have parents and elders around because you never know what slips out! And…err…that may not be the most comfortable of situations.

There are a lot of other precautions as well but as long you keep these three rules in mind, you will not need the rest. If however, you ignore these rules, then you deserve what you get to hear and see. So I won’t tell you the other rules anyway. If you still have the guts to step in, welcome. And…all the best!

Adios.

Little conversations…

2008-06-28T17:35:00.001+09:00

A lot of times I sit and think of you. Your face and that smile are crystal clear in my mind. A lot of times, things give me a feeling of déjà vu. I remember little conversations we had and how much difference they made.

There was one night when dad was here. He was sleeping and I was talking to you, standing on the terrace. I had asked you out but you hadn’t made a yet decision then. I was ranting on about how I dislike my parts of my past and how difficult it was for me to explain to you how much I love you. You patiently heard me out for 45 minutes. And then you spoke.

“You know what I feel like doing right now?” you asked.

“What?” I said

“I feel like coming there and giving you a big hug” you replied.

I felt like dropping everything and flying to you. That was one moment when I really wished I had wings…

Then there was my cousin’s wedding. I was at his place with celebration in the air. But no celebration in my life has ever been complete without you and neither will it ever be. So I called you. You sounded upset. You were crying. I could feel the tears in your voice.

“I will call you later” you said.

“No listen…one second…talk to me dear” I replied. I have always been persistent, haven’t I?

So after a while you started speaking. You broke down. I hated myself for being so far away from you. I wished I could run to you and hold you in my arms till those tears faded away and I wished I could make you smile. I didn’t know what to say so I let my heart speak. I heard all that you had to say with silence and then spoke. After about an hour, I heard you laugh. It felt wonderful. I could make my little princess laugh. You kept insisting that I should go back and have fun with the people here but for me, someone was far more important. It was you, my dear. Weddings happen all over the world everyday but I never want to see you cry. Even today, I wish I have the tears that belong to you while you take the smiles and joys from me. I will gladly trade the happiness in my life for the sadness in yours darling. That, I guess is love.

At the reception again, I called you. The place was teeming with people. Some I knew. Most, I didn’t. But without you I felt very lonely and out of place. Seemed like a part of me was missing. I told you about the incessant bugging of people and how I had to welcome people who were total strangers and how I had very conveniently been put in charge of food and beverages. You laughed at my inane descriptions and though I was making a total fool of myself, I loved it baby because it made you smile.

I remember when I had fever, you told me to tell the fever to go find someone else because I hated competition. I laughed. Inside me, I wanted to run to you and tell you that no matter what happens, I will never let you go away. I will hold you close and be with you. And no woman can ever be competition to the place you held in my life. You still hold that place my love.

I remember rushing to pay my phone bills so that I would talk to you a little more because being so far away from you, it was the only way I could feel your warmth beside me as I lay on the bed after a hard day. Today, time and again I feel like picking up the phone and dialing your number but I stop short of it because maybe you wouldn’t like to hear my voice now. Even today, I crave for those seemingly meaningless conversations that had so much meaning. My arms lie outstretched in the hope that I will have the chance to hold you in them again…

It is a hope. It is a bleak spot of light in the dark. But light, nevertheless. I love you and I will always be only yours…

When it rains cats and dogs…

2008-06-17T05:56:00.001+09:00

Of late, it’s been pouring in this city. May be very soon, Delhi will be in competition with Venice. Anyway, that’s for later. Right now, let me talk of what’s more immediate.

First of all, it reminds me of little T. But coming to think of it, what doesn’t? So I shall not get into that either. So the question is, what on earth do I want to get into in this post? Good question. Read on…

Let me begin with the weather. It is the perfect setting for a steaming hot flask full of strong coffee with baked or fried snacks, dim lights, an engrossing book and soft music. Sounds like a utopian world, doesn’t it? I know. But then there is more to this utopia than meets the eye.

To begin with, when it rains this heavily, visibility is reduces almost to half and with traffic like Delhi, you better make sure your insurance policy is in place before you step out. The other thing is that bacteria grows in the rainy season and hence the garbage dumps give out an amazing fragrance that the human mind is not evolved enough to appreciate! Third, cars zooming past may, in perfect coordination with the puddles on the road, spray you with colours that will never fade from those wonderful clothes. Good idea. Next time when I have to colour my white shirt “earthy brown” I will simply wear it and stand next to a puddle in the rain. Yet another thing is that we all know water to be a force to reckon with. When it can cut through rocks, how do these man made roads stand before the rain? Result; bikes skid, cycles topple and cars fail to brake! And I almost forgot that the muck around can actually make you feel like you walking on a piece of soggy cake.

So much for criticism. Allow me to now get a little romantic. Little droplets of rain pattering away at the window panes, the Sun enveloped by the clouds and symphony played by the rain drops crashing against solid surfaces deepen the roots of laziness in a person. And if you have the right company, which idiot will want to step out? The smell of the wet earth and the greenery around are so intoxicating that there is every chance that a person just remains frozen for a while. After a shower, everything looks so washed and renewed!

Watching the kids play and splash in the rain while setting paper boats afloat gives me a feeling of déjà vu. Amidst all this, wonderful aroma rises from some kitchen and carried by the wet wind to my doorstep. Sometimes, I just feel like running out in the rain like the good old days. But I am stuck with work in office! Damn.

There are little earthen bowls placed on the terrace that collects the water during rains and later, birds that perch on the terrace drink out of those bowls. Rains are known to be all the more enticing to people in love. No wonder I am missing little T.

Oh!! The rains just got heavy again…and after having written all this about the rain, I just can’t sit here and not go and get drenched! So I am off. And considering it’s almost 3 at night, if you find this post a tad bit weird, dismiss it as a figment of imagination of an insane mind.

Adios.

Advantages and disadvantages of being tall…

2008-06-09T05:19:00.001+09:00

Every coin has two sides. Good and bad. So does one’s height. Now, I stand six feet two inches above sea level so I haven’t quite had a chance of being short but I can sure tell you the sunny and cloudy aspects of being tall. Read on, if you please…

I shall begin with the disadvantages because the best (read advantages) should be saved for the last.

First, if a person is taller than the average height then he or she stands a good chance banging his or her head into objects dangling from the ceiling. Be it a wind-chime, a lamp or a bell in a temple. One goes clanking everywhere!

In fact, I hit my head so many times in the frame of the door of my house that my dad finally changed the frame itself!

Second, a taller frame means lesser availability of basic necessities like clothes and shoes because taller people are bound to have longer limbs. In fact, I remember, while in school, I went to buy canvas shoes for the sports classes and when I told him which size I wanted, the salesman just said one thing “Sir, the company doesn’t make shoes in such abnormal sizes”. I felt like an alien who was left behind by the spaceship!

Third, since tall people are easy to spot, they are very conveniently put to use as human watch towers, reference points and ladders. Whenever out in a group, if anyone strays away, I am invariably used as the reference and if I am found to be on my own, without the rest of the gang around, I am told to stick to the gang as it’s easy to spot me and hence the gang. Damn! I am tempted to file a complaint with the National Human Rights Commission!

Fourth, space is a constant constraint. Be it a car, a plane or a chair, nothing seems to have enough space. If I am in the front seat of a car, I have to push the seat back and unless it’s a really petite person sitting behind me, things seem cramped. In flights, I always have to ask the cabin crew to move me to a seat over the emergency exit and in my office, if I ever want to stretch my legs out, I have to be really careful lest I ram into someone standing right behind me because pushing the chair back means occupying more than half the space in the passage. Why can’t people just make things bigger to occupy extra large people like us?! Very unfair!

Fifth, it is difficult to hide. Countless times, I have wished that I was a little more compact so that I could just hide behind someone when people are looking for me. Especially those whom a want to avoid. Alas! I can’t!

Sixth, movement has to be extra careful because of the “far reaching effects” of the limbs. Two cases in point:

One day, I was standing beside my art partner, checking out the work that he was doing. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he started hurling abuses at me. It was only after a few moments that I realized I was standing on his toes. And the other day, while paper-ball warfare was on in the office, I raised my leg in a mock kick to ward my art partner off. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the length and reach of my lower limbs and I struck him right…err…THERE. And he sank to the floor holding…err…THAT. My deepest condolences to his would be wife. The damage, I swear, was unintentional!

Seventh, being taller means having a larger frame and hence excess utilization of resources. For example, while a normal person can take a bath with two buckets of water, I need three. See? That’s two buckets of water wasted per day, considering I take a bath twice a day. So now calculate, how much wastage will that amount to, per year?! But it isn’t my fault, is it?!

Eighth, doctors say that taller people stand a higher chance of developing back problems at a later stage in life because of the longer spine. Wonderfully encouraging, must say!

Ninth, furniture is not made for such big people. And I mean furniture of any kind. Sometime back, when I had bruised my palm pretty bad and ended up with 32 stitches on them, there was one problem in addition to the fact that the blood wouldn’t stop. It was that I just wouldn’t fit into the damned stretcher that I was laid on! The lady who was giving me the stitches just said that it wasn’t her problem that I was bigger than the normal human size. Are the medical instruments’ companies listening?!

Tenth, at most times, people flatly refuse to walk alongside someone extra tall because they feel dwarfed. I am lucky that Little T and I never had that problem because she is tall too. Though, not abnormally tall. She is one person who looks wonderful with the height that she’s got. She is just perfect.

So, these were the disadvantages. Now, let me tell you of the advantages.

First, tall people get a better view of things in life. This statement is meant to be open ended so go ahead and make your own interpretations. Hehe…

Second, things can be reached for much more easily than for most people because all that tall people have to do is stretch their limbs out to the maximum.

Third, the ones who’re tall don’t have to worry about being left behind because in the rare case they are, all they have to do is take a few long strides to make up for the distance. Though I wish, every distance could be bridged just as easily…

Fourth, they do not have to worry about their hair being messed up because most people can’t look above their shoulders in any case. Now THAT is a real advantage I am talking about.

I wracked my brains a lot but couldn’t come up with more positive arguments. So that leaves the ratio of disadvantages to advantages at 10:4.

No wonder then, that it’s said that good things come in small packages. Though, I don’t complain about being tall. In fact I like it because people look up to me, quite literally.

If anyone has any more points to be added to the positives, please feel free to contribute because, honestly, I will be glad to include them!

Adios.

One fine day in the winter of ’07…

2008-06-05T17:51:00.001+09:00

I opened my eyes. It was 1 O’clock in the table clock. It was pretty late but considering we had gone to sleep at 5 in the morning, it had to be late. “Office!”, I thought but then decided not to go. I knew that once I went, I would be stuck there for quite a while and I had no intentions of staying away from you for so long.

I turned and looked at you. You were sleeping like a baby. I kissed you on the forehead and adjusted the sheet on you. You, in turn wrapped your arm around me, still asleep. I looked at you for a while and then slid my arm under your head so that it was resting on my shoulder and I lay down again. I lay like that for quite a while; holding you in my arms. I didn’t want to budge because I knew that being a light sleeper, it might have disturbed your sleep. But finally I had to get up to make some lunch for us because I knew you would be famished the moment you woke up. So I carefully picked your head up and put it on the pillow. You opened your eyes for a brief moment, smiled at me, muttered good morning and curled up and went back to sleep. I thought you were absolutely adorable. I mean…you were hot and sexy and all that but above all, you were adorable!

I went to the kitchen to figure out what to make for you. I set the rice and dal for khichadi in the pressure cooker and then set down to shell green peas for the omelette. Suddenly, you crept into the kitchen as noiselessly as you could and hugged me from behind. Though I had heard you come in, I pretended to be surprised because I loved to see that joy on your face, of having surprised me and having played a prank successfully. You asked me what I was doing and I told you. You pondered over it for a while, asking me if you could help. I asked you go and watch some TV because I wanted to pamper you. You were my little princess, after all! But adamant that you have always been, you refused. Instead, you sat on the kitchen counter and started popping the green peas into your mouth one by one. I told you what they were for so you dropped a few into my mouth as well and said we could peel more if we needed. I remember you were grinning. I loved that mischief in your eyes. Then, as if to prove a point, you started shelling the remaining green peas but gave up after a few. Patience was never your forte dear…

Then you went out of the kitchen and took me along, giving me the logic that for you, spending time with me was important. Not food. I followed you out. Seldom had a disagreed with you. Lunch finally happened a couple of hours later.

Then, in the evening you wanted to have your favourite orange stick so we walked down the road to the ice cream vendor and I remember the joy on your face. Then we took a stroll in the park in the compound and you held me tight when you saw a stray dog run towards you.

We came back home and suddenly, at midnight, I remembered that I needed to pick up groceries so I told you that I would just be back but you were insistent that you wanted to come along. We went to the nearest 24/7 and you hugged me and kissed me at the far end of the store. Then you started grinning again, like you had just achieved something huge. I fell in love with you yet again. We shopped and came back home. Then we had dinner and by then you were exhausted. So I patted you to sleep. I remember I even tried singing a lullaby. But what can I say, I suck at singing! So you tried singing yourself to sleep and you made sure that you sang with a nasal voice. I remember the song too. It was “bugging you”.

All your sleep had suddenly vanished. We talked into wee hours of the night and finally held each other and slept.

Such was that one fine day in the winter of ’07. Today, however, things are different and you want to have nothing to do with me. You have probably moved to newer goals in life and you have more important tasks to accomplish. But I always wanted to be there by your side…in joy and sorrow alike. You’re gone princess, but the memories linger on…fresh as ever. I still love you just as much as I did then. I will always love you.

There are so many things that I think I will never be able to tell you now. But I hope the best happens to you my love. God bless you darling. So long…

A matchstick speaks

2008-05-24T19:01:00.001+09:00

I am a little matchstick

Small yet defiant…

Calm with a fire deep within

All it takes is one stroke to set me alight.

Light a lamp, I can

To drive darkness away

Or bring everything down

Turn things into ashes.

You may carry me in your pocket

And forget my presence…

But with every spark…every flash…

I shall storm back into your mind.

Never belittle me as I shall

Leave a trail even as I burn…

Never hold me too close,

For it may leave you with a scar.

Value me you may not,

Because I am negligible,

But when you stumble in the dark…

Think of me, sure you will.

I am a little matchstick,

Small yet defiant…

I shall continue to burn

Ceaselessly…

au revoir darling

2008-05-19T19:45:00.000+09:00

Life has come to a grinding halt. All cogs unanimously refuse to work. I stand and watch the clock tick by. Have suddenly lost so much that it seems difficult to believe. The biggest loss though, was losing you. Time and again, I feel like I am walking through a mist. In this dense fog, I seek you and your touch. A hand to assure me that you’re still by my side. Then I wake up. I am jolted back to reality. Regret is the first emotion that hits me. I wake up…look around and repent for everything that went wrong. I know I had plenty of chances but it when one hits rock bottom that one truly realizes that all that is needed is one last chance to prove oneself. But you refuse to let me have it. Don’t blame you my love…I don’t expect you to be as benevolent as God. But I am sorry.

Your memories lie undisturbed. Some in the closet and the others in my heart. They stay still, taking me back to those blissful days. I regret more that I threw it all away. I close my eyes and the mist clears because your face appears before me. The mist returns when I open my eyes. Why can’t I then close my eyes for good? At least it will take the mist away. I remember my friend’s burning pyre and envy him. He will no more have to bear the nasty jolts of life. Is death truly a better way out then? No. I won’t succumb. That’s my resolve because with life comes hope. There will be a faint glimmer that one day I will be able to hold your hand again. I will continue the way we had planned. Though no woman except you will ever be in the picture. I shall stand and hear the clock tick by. Like one piece of machinery next to another. Without you, my human side shall probably not last very long anyway princess. I read the note in my wallet and feel a sudden warmth envelope me. Though imaginary, your presence has warmth.

Your absence will pinch and burn throughout the time I am around and now that I look back, I realize I was very stupid to let you go. Worse, push you more. Today, we are poles apart. And you don’t want to take a single step this side but I shall continue trudging in the fog, in spite of falling and being bruised and hurt numerous times in the sole hope that finally I will come out of this fog to see you standing on the other side to say that you believed in me and I didn’t let you down. All it will take for the hurt to disappear is one hug from you to say that you’re still by my side. If that doesn’t happen, maybe I will lose myself in this mist like countless others. But I shall never stop seeking you because till am alive, the hope will linger. Till God decides to have mercy on me and be a little benevolent. As long as that doesn’t happen, life well. Be happy. I will always love you.

Au revoir little T

thinking of my little princess...

2008-05-15T07:59:00.001+09:00

I am standing on the terrace. Getting drenched in the rain and the storm. Reminiscing the moments with you. I remember that night when we spread out quilts there and I slept holding you in my arms. That patch still has your warmth in it. When I am lonely or upset, I go and sit there. It feels like I have you back in my arms. I remember the day that I had dozed off while you were here and you left me a note saying that you were leaving with a wish that I slept well and I ran to this terrace frantically to find you looking away into infinity and held you from behind. You were a little startled…and then you smiled. On the way down, your foot slipped on the slippery stairs and I held you again so that you didn’t fall. One thing I could never stand…still can’t…is to see you get hurt. A scratch on you is like a gash on me.

That day comes back to my mind when we did a Titanic, standing on this very terrace. Life was so complete! Then those nights, when while I spoke to you, an airplane flew overhead and I couldn’t hear you for a brief moment due to the noise. I despised the airplane because I had missed something that you had said. Even this house has a memory of yours in every corner. And without you, it will always remain a mere house…it will never be home. It has the floor that you walked on, the wardrobe that you leaned on and the mirrors that you saw your reflection in. I can still see your face in those mirrors when I look at them. Those days when I came back home and you welcomed me with a hug saying, “you must be cold”. Believe me dear, I never felt warmer in my life. These days when I come back home and unlock the door, I feel your absence every moment. When I cooked for you in the kitchen and you came and sat on the counter and started those pointless conversations which still seem to have so much meaning. If I told you to go back and rest, your only retort was, “I am here to spend time with you, not eat!”

This bed still lies here, the same one that we slept on, holding each other. Now I spend nights on it…absolutely sleepless. The wash room that we bathed in, the balcony that you stood in when you were upset and tears streamed down your eyes. You hugged me and I could feel your tears drop on my shirt. I held you tight to tell you that no matter what happens, I will stand by you till my last breath. So little was spoken, yet so much was said. My wardrobe still has a part reserved for you just like my life because if I ever have you back in my life, I want you to come back and see that everything is just as you left it. I have forgotten what life was like when you were not a part of it. Just seems like a frightening blur in the distance. Your memories on the other hand, are as fresh as ever. It has been a long time that I have been in love with you darling. And this love will never fade away.

It’s true that I have hurt you. Maybe beyond what words can undo, but I hope life gives me one last chance to tell you that you mean the world to me. You hate me now…and maybe you always will but my love for you will stay and grow stronger by the day. For me, to love you, a lifetime wouldn’t suffice because you mean a lot more than that. The world around me is teeming with people. But I feel frozen in the frame of time with your memories. Each one lies etched vividly in my mind. Life without you seems very incomplete. All I can say is that my love for you is true and I am ready to do anything humanly possible to make you believe that I regret what I did. I failed to understand you and fear that it might be too late to win you back but I hope…I hope I have one last shot at life. There are memories with you that are bitter, but I hope and pray I gave you enough memories to cherish that outlast the ones that are bitter. In case life refuses to offer me a chance, I just wish you have the best of everything and even my share of joy. I will be content with your share of sorrow. At least there will be something of yours that I shall have. The single gift you gave me always stays close to me because I am afraid of losing it just like I lost you…I still carry the little notes you wrote to me. I feel you through them. In those notes, I find your essence…your fragrance.

I have only two things to say to you little angel. First, that I love you with everything I have ever had. Second, that I am sorry…please forgive me. I shall wait for you just round the corner in case you decide to change your mind. You’re way too precious for me.

I shall be forever yours. Just yours.

a scuffle in the heart...

2008-05-07T00:43:00.000+09:00

You’re gone leaving a lingering hope

And my life moves on as it always did

But frozen I feel in the lanes of time

Without you by my side…

I breathe…I exist…I survive…

But the life is missing from within me…

I eat to keep my body going…

But the hunger has perished…

A lone candle of hope burns in my heart

Battling the strong winds that try blowing it out

Every cold response add an unseen wound

Every warm gesture looks like a silver lining

What will happen I do not know

I have a burning hope though

That back in my arms I shall have you one day

To show you that I mean it every time I say

“I love you my princess”…

Bosses or asses?

2008-04-17T00:10:00.000+09:00

(With anger, malice, sarcasm and grudge against all bosses.)

Ok. Post this post, I will not be surprised if I suddenly find myself in the “Physically able but unemployed youth” segment of the society. But at this point in time, I am really not bothered. In a way, I am past these worldly concerns. Let me then begin to rant about the species called “BOSSES” with a joke on the entire clan. Read the story…

Once, the various parts of the body were arguing about who should be the boss. The brain spoke up first, “I do all the thinking. I am the hub of all intellect. Hence I lay my claim to be the boss.”

Next, it was the heart, “I pump all the bloody blood! Without me, everything will perish. I should be the boss.”

While a verbal battle ensued between the different parts, the arse hole spoke up. “I should be the boss. The absolute authority”, it said. There was stunned silence for a second that the arse hole could even think of something so bizarre! When realization sank in, every part of the body was in splits. The arse hole gave everyone a very dirty look and shut itself for 3 days. Needless to say, the entire system went for a toss. Under immense pressure, the body gave in and the arse was made the boss.

Now, what’s the moral of the story? You don’t need brains to be a boss. Any arse hole will do. And I was so bugged in life that I actually went to my boss and told him this story. I still grin to myself when I reminisce the look on his face.

This clan follows no biases of any kind. Men, women, non men, non women, anyone in these shoes behaves in the same manner. A nice boss is probably as much of a figment of imagination as the existence of Atlantis. Everyone has heard fables of “good bosses” but few have probably experienced it first hand. And in this case seeing, indeed, is believing. Though I don’t know what genetic mutation people undergo by the time they become bosses but I pray I can avoid such a catastrophe in my life. I meant the mutation part. Let me now, for your benefit, classify the kinds of sub species that exist in this category.

Absolutely autocratic: It is the kind that believes that since they have spent reasonable time in the industry they’re in, they know EVERYTHING about it and hence their opinion is unchallengeable. They conveniently forget that due to the process of evolution, every successive generation is a tad faster and more capable. Let alone accepting it, they ignore even the possibility of such a thing!

Mistaken democrats: These are people who believe they’re extremely democratic whereas their democratic nature is as real as a mirage in a desert. They have an illusion that they give people a chance to express their opinion and work in their own way. It’s more like allowing one to stand in a one square foot area and say that there is enough space to play hopscotch! That, my friend, is the true face of these mistaken democrats.

Selective hearing: They are like a radio. One can hear them but never speak to them because for some godforsaken reason, sound just doesn’t seem to travel to their ears. Well, it maybe the vaccum in their heads that prevents the sounds from reaching the brain. They say what they have to, listen to nothing and then when things go wrong, they even forget that they said what they said!!

Excuse me: This kind has an excuse up their sleeve at any given point of time. Be it to avoid work or to make sure that they make life miserable for people working with them. These people fish for the first reason they can find to get out of office. It can range from “the neighbour’s dog being sick” to “no water from the municipal authorities”. I have seen a lot of this kind.

This is the brief segregation I could come up with. And more or less, most bosses can be put into any of these though there may be finer differences prevalent across the world. If you find any other points, feel free to add to this piece. And before my bosses find this document open on my computer, I shall scoot.

Adios.

Being corny…

2008-04-12T00:43:00.002+09:00

(This is only for people above 18 years of age. Though you shouldn’t be reading this otherwise but it’s up to you to take the final call.)

Rub it…rub it.

Pull it and straighten it out.

Yeah…that’s the way. Now come on, shove it in! Slowly. Don’t rush.

THIS is how one makes a wire pass through a circular disc to make a spinning wheel. What were you thinking?

Is it a flaw with the listener’s twisted mind or is it the fault of the speaker that what’s said and what’s interpreted are poles apart? Sometimes, it is a genuine lack of realization that gives rise to such situations. Like: “all of us crash at his place nowadays because things get easier when we’re sleeping with each other regularly.”

In this case, the context was that five people of a workgroup stayed over at the guy’s place whose house was the closest to office so that it was easier to come in on time everyday. But to someone who isn’t aware of what the reference is, such a statement can sound rather suggestive. I have found myself in such situations countless times. This is what someone I knew had to say about how to clean the grime that accumulates between the batteries and the steel plate, in a torch, resulting in an incomplete circuit: “pull it out. Blow it. Shake it a little and stick it back in.”

Sounds strange. I know.

Being a writer makes it worse. One is supposed to have more than one interpretation to every line written. Over a period of time, it just happens that dual meanings begin to appear from every side…in every statement. And to make matters absolutely terrible, this tendency to be corny is contagious. So one not only ends up being infected…but passing it on as well! Though, sometimes, being a little corny adds to the charm of what’s written and interpreted. I remember having read this print as by Neil French, a copywriter par excellence. It was for a cigar brand called Cigarillos. It read “Gentlemen like their companions brown, long, slim and ideally horizontal.”

I agree that is very open ended but that’s where the charm of the line was!

My boss was heard telling a trainee recently that it was important for him to perform every single time otherwise people would find someone else. I agree. As Little T often tells me, “you have a twisted mind!” I agree. But then, it isn’t exactly my fault, is it? I mean, seriously, I would love to think straight. I mean, get the right interpretation.

Though there is no judgement that I am passing about being corny, it is sad when a very well interpreted statement is wasted on someone who’s a little dim in the head…or maybe isn’t as “corrupted”. Those winks, the sly grins and all that laughter with lips pursed is something that results in a little relaxation when the atmosphere is a little tense.

Even brands are not spared. One day, recently, when I had gone to meet my lifeline...Little T, we went shopping. I saw this amazing pair of shades for her. But then, she wanted to look around a little more so while trying on the different pairs, she noticed that one particular brand was called "Push and Shove"! Ok then. I wonder what to push and shove. Nevertheless, sounded strange. And after all this time, I guess I have brushed off on my little angel cause it was she who noticed the brand. A general request to all budding entrepreneurs...please don't have such weird names to your brands!! Sheesh!

All said and done, written and read, being corny or not is a matter of individual choice but if you want to think corny, go right ahead. There is nothing wrong about it.

Adios.

The art of SARCASM

2008-04-08T23:50:00.000+09:00

It is an art that’s as old as time itself. Probably. Say something with a totally straight face and imply something completely different. That’s the art of sarcasm.

I was out to watch a movie with friends and met an acquaintance at the multiplex. “So…how have you been? Here for a movie?” was the question put forth by Mr. Acquaintance. My absolutely poker faced answer was “No..no…I am here for the Liverpool versus Manchester United soccer match. Wonder why it hasn’t started yet.”

Well, it’s a different issue that my sarcasm was wasted on him cause he gave me a strange look and a stupid smile. I mean seriously, why do people ask questions like these?! Is it just a desperate attempt to begin and continue a conversation or is it that the person is genuinely dwarfed in the head? Sounds like an unsolved mystery to me.

While some people are born with this ancient art running in every vein, some others cultivate it over the years. To me, it comes naturally and absolutely effortlessly. Even my little princess…Little T excels at the art. Sadly, sometimes I have come across people on whom sarcasm has no effect cause they just don’t see the point! In fact, I remember this one incident very clearly. A guy I knew in college was one day seen wearing a parrot green full sleeve shirt with brown corduroy trousers. The day was scorching hot. While sitting together and killing time, someone commented that the temperatures had become intolerable due to the lack of trees in the vicinity. I being me, turned around, looked at the guy who had commented, pointed to the guy in the parrot green shirt and brown corduroy trousers and said “don’t worry, Abu’s around. Just stick a few twigs in to his hair and you will have all the soothing shade that you’re looking for!”

Sadly, everybody understood except the person who it was intended for. Damn!]

Then again, there is sarcasm and counter sarcasm. Now, that’s fun cause it’s like a battle of wits. This is generally what happens when Little T and I have a conversation at our sarcastic best! Such conversations are long and memorable. But if you’re expecting e narrate one here, sorry, that isn’t happening. There are a little too precious to be shared.

Well, the fact that the profession I am in demands me to be sarcastic at most times is just incidental. Then again, there are people who just can’t stand this brilliant art! Well, I am not really surprised cause not everybody can appreciate an art form! In fact, I guess just like we have institutions that specialize in teaching certain forms of art, there should be schools that train people in sarcasm as well. It will not only propagate the art but also equip people better to handle unforeseen situations. What say?

Adios.

Walking with a zombie

2008-03-28T04:36:00.003+09:00

(Dedicated to my perennial inspiration)

As I have mentioned earlier, I work at a place where chaos is ubiquitous. Spending nights at office in an attempt to come up with ideas and finish work on tight deadlines has now become a part of life. This happened on just one such night.

Six of us were stuck in office, working. Suddenly, hunger struck us as the clock struck two in the morning. For normal human beings, it is a time to sleep so most hotels are shut. But near our office, there is a hotel that’s open till 6 in the morning. I guess they are just trying to cash in on our erratic timings. I being the hungriest of all, considering my insatiable appetite, volunteered to get the food packed. So I made a list of all that the people wanted to eat and set off.

Between the restaurant and my office, there is a narrow lane with a lone street lamp. As expected, most part of the broken street is deserted. As I was half way through, I heard somebody shout over my shoulder “boo”! Startled for a second, I turned around to see if it was a colleague of mine or a friend who just wanted to derive some joy out of scaring me. It turned out to be neither. Instead, it was a lanky, short chap who looked at me with a disappointed gaze. He was pale white with disheveled hair. “Damn! You were supposed to be scared dude! Now how will I go back and face my father and my fiancé?”

I must admit that I found it funny that a guy half my size in both length and width, dressed in a yellow shirt and baby pink cargoes thought that he could scare me. “who are you and what on earth made you think that you could scare me, wearing those strange clothes? I mean, come on buddy, look at your size at least!”, I said. To that, his reply was, “first of all, let me introduce myself. I am Zazu, the zombie. I have two elder brothers. Zozo and Zimzo, who will now laugh at me, thanks to you. Second, nobody, I repeat, nobody dares to call my clothes strange. They have been specially crafted by Zersache and Zorgio Zarmani. You know, I don’t wear anything that’s not designer. And the only two other designers I like are Zohit Zal and Z. Z. Zalaya. So you better not say anything against this attire of mine, you no-sense-of-fashion human.”

Now I was beginning to enjoy this. Not only did this crazy, puny guy have the guts to try and scare me, but he also thought he was a zombie! Whoa!

“So, you’re trying to tell me that you’re a zombie who’s out to scare people in the middle of the night, are you?”

“Absolutely!”

“Great. Prove to me that you’re what you claim to be”. This must be fun, I thought.

“I warn you, it will be very scary. VERY scary.”

“So that’s ok. That was your objective anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Ok. If you insist. Now, come on, here is my arm. Pull it.”

So I tugged at his arm and it actually came off! Pretty much like it does when you try to pull it off the plastic toys. Needless to say, that was pretty freaky. I was holding his arm in my hand while he stared at me, smiling. Must admit was a little scared but tried my best not to show it. “So, did I prove my point? Now, give that arm back to me so that I can put it back on.”

So I handed his arm back to him with absolute silence. He took it and screwed it back onto his shoulders like it had some grooves around it. He moved it to check the movement and once he was satisfied, he looked at me and smiled again. “What did you think? I am some random, crazy chap who painted his face white in the middle of the night?”

I was speechless. “So…where were you off to?”

“I was going to buy something to eat at this restaurant here.”

“Naah. Don’t. you get much better food a couple of kilometers up ahead.”

“How do you know so much about human food? You’re a freaking zombie!”

“I am indeed and I am glad I made you believe it but the truth is, that we zombies share a lot in common with you humans. Like the Zombieland anthem, for ages, has been this song by Cranberries called Zombie. Have you heard it?”

What was this thing? A zombie and that too, darfed? Of course I had heard the song! “Yes. I have heard that song many times”, I said. “Good song, isn’t it? Anyway now, if you want to get some real nice grub, I can give you a lift up to that other restaurant.”

No way! I wasn’t going to hitch a ride with a zombie! I know I am crazy but not completely over-the-top insane yet. I hadn’t realized that it had been quite a while since I met this Godforsaken creature, literally, and that’s when my art partner called. Heaving a sigh of relief, I picked up the phone though I didn’t really know what to say. I have a habit of pacing up and down while speaking on my mobile phone. So I walked away from him without realizing it and when I turned around, he was gone. A part of me was jumping out of my skin out of fear and the other part was happy that the thing was gone. I finished my conversation and hung up. Suddenly, Zaku sprang up from behind me again. Yikes!

“Here, these are the best dishes on the menu in the restaurant I mentioned. Since you were busy on the phone, I thought I would go and get some food. By the way, which service provider does your friend have?”

“He uses Airtel while I have Vodafone”, I said, staring at the food.

“Hmmm…Airtel…and Vodafone. Sound a lot like the services we have. Zairtel, Zodafone, Zidea and Zealiance!”

“Tell me something; all the names that you mentioned in all this while start with Z. What fetish to you zombies have with the letter Z?”

“Look, around 400 years ago, our council of elders, which is much like your Parliament, decreed that all names should start with Z and nothing else. We have followed the tradition all these years but now, we youngsters are trying to change the way zombies look at life.”

A zombie, talking about life? Paradoxical.

“Anyway, here is the food. Don’t worry, it’s on me. Just make sure that if you find my fiancé Zenne anywhere, tell her you were shit scared on seeing me. Can’t lose face in front of her, you know? She might just call the engagement off. I need to rush now. Have plenty of other humans to scare and make it home in the next couple of hours cause I have a date with Zenne at 7 in the morning. See you around”, and he disappeared.

I was sure I didn’t want to see him, his family or his fiancé…ever again. I stood there with the packet of food, wondering what to do. After pondering a little, I chucked the food into the trash can cause honestly, I didn’t have the courage to eat food sponsored by a zombie. I bought whatever I had to and walked back to the office. The journey back was thankfully eventless.

So, this was my little tête-à-tête with Zaku, the zombie. The thought still makes me wonder about all that happened.

Adios.

Grayscale's day out...

2008-03-19T22:12:00.003+09:00

Two days after he turned a major, Grayscale, the crown prince of the chameleons decided go out into the world outside his royal abode and seek his destiny. Now, royal decisions can seldom be questioned. So against all his reservations, the minister of the chameleon kingdom, Dr. Spectrum, gave in. Princess Lizzy, Prince Grayscale’s beloved was worried and sad that in their already short lifespan, she would have to stay away from him for so long!

For Grayscale however, what was more important was that he came from one of the most reputed families of veiled chameleons and had to live up to his forefathers’ name. So the next day, he set out to explore the world. Princess Lizzy, with a heavy heart, had packed his favourite bugs in a little Tupperware box. She had hunted all day to find those bugs in the crevices and gaps. Now. Prince Grayscale’s palace was in a place that was self sufficient and hence he had never had much interaction with living beings and bugs outside that area.

Hopping from tree to tree and running across the ground, Grayscale reached the busiest part of the city. For a minute, he felt like he was dreaming. Strange monstrous creatures were walking only on their hind legs, there were strange shaped objects zooming by on the roads, there were no trees anywhere in the vicinity and all he could see were towering mountains that he heard the two legged creatures refer to as “buildings”. To begin with he was in awe of all that existed outside his palace, then that awe turned into fear and finally, panic that he was lost and wouldn’t be able to find his way home!
He was hungry and had already gobbled up all the bugs that he had brought along from home. He missed Lizzy and vowed never to leave her behind like that again. But that was for later. He had more important things that needed his attention like finding food and his way home. Food came first and hence he began his hunt. He scaled the buildings, checked every inch of the road and just when he was about to give in to the thought that he would die of starvation, he came across a few dead insects lying around a trash can. Little did he know that they had been killed by insect repellents and hence were not edible. Hunger had clouded his senses, he couldn’t even notice the difference in taste and just lapped them all up. As expected, shortly after that, his tummy started feeling weird. He could feel his stomach growl and realized that an upset digestive system was just around the corner. Just as he stopped for a second on the road to catch his breath, he was almost crushed by one those strange objects zooming past on circular limbs. He had heard the two legged monstrous creatures call them “cars”. The fumes that those objects emitted were toxic that it almost choked Grayscale, who had always been in the midst of nature. Wandering from place to place in an attempt to find his way home, he walked into an office. He could see just one thing all around. Madness. Then suddenly, one two legged creature said something to another two legged creature, within Grayscale’s earshot, about that office being an advertising agency. And then he figured the reason behind the chaos. Now, advertising is not an alien concept, even in the reptile kingdom. There too, they have print ads and television commercials about the companies selling the best packaged bugs, the best properties on tree tops (a human equivalent of a penthouse) and the best skin polishes to keep that scaly skin glistening!

Suddenly, a female two legged creature saw him and shrieked. Grayscale was petrified. Partly by her size, partly by the shrill voice and partly by the decibel level of the scream. He spotted a plant in a transparent container, kept atop a flat structure made out of wood (there were plenty of money plants in the office) so he leapt towards it in the desperation to protect himself. He made it to the tree and started looking around at the surroundings. Slowly, one by one, all the two legged creatures gathered around him as if he was some display piece in a museum! Except for that two legged creature who had screamed on seeing him because that creature had climbed up another flat wooden structure. Then one of creatures who had gathered around him, moved forward and grabbed him before he could escape. But instead of killing him, the creature stroked him and put him in a drawer and shut the drawer. Sitting in the darkness, he thought about his palace, Lizzy, the warnings of Dr. Spectrum and wondered whether he will ever be able to make it back home.

After what seemed an eternity, his captor opened the drawer and put an assortment of dead insects before him. Some of them were his favourites, like the mosquitoes, the beetles and the spiders that had to be eaten extremely carefully because of the high level of toxins. But at that time, he was plain homesick and wanted nothing more than get back to Lizzy, hug her and tell her he was sorry and that he would never leave her like that again. So he moved away from the insect spread and sat down. The creature looked at him for a while and then picked him up. Then the creature started speaking in a strange language and took him out into the porch. That female who had screamed on seeing him the first time, screamed again. His captor took him out into the open air and placed him on the parapet. Grayscale looked around and viola! He saw his palace. He realized that he had taken a full circle. He sprinted to the nearest tree he could find and raced home. There was a renewed energy in him at the thought that he was headed home finally! It had been a day that turned out to be a little too eventful. Prince Grayscale felt he had lived an entire lifetime in just that one day. But he was happy that he had explored so much of the world! Nobody had done it before him. Not that he intended to do it ever again, either.

Finally, he reached home after dodging three huge birds of prey who wanted to eat him up and one dog that wanted to make a yo-yo out of him. The moment he spotted Princess Lizzy, he ran up to her and took her into his arms. Her joy knew no bounds because after this long, he had almost given up hope that she would ever see him again. The kissed, sitting on the highest branch of the tree, under the moonlight and slept under the stars. The very next day, they got married by the chameleon marital laws and lived happily, tail in tail, for the rest of their lives…

This was the story of Prince Grayscale and his day out.

STOP!

2008-03-17T02:01:00.005+09:00

हिंदू हो तो हिंदू बने रहो
मुस्लिम हो तो मुस्लमान
पर मज़हब की दौड़ में यह न भूलना
वतन तुम्हारा है हिंदुस्तान

इस मुल्क में पले बढे हो
इसकी लाज नीलाम न करना
किसी मज़हब ने नही सिखाया
बेगुनाह की हत्या करना

जिहादी मुस्लमान बताओ
क्या कभी रहीम ने राम को मारा है?
और कट्टर हिंदू तुम कहो
क्या कभी भगवान् ने अल्लाह को धुत्कारा है?

जब ऊपर्वालों में बैर नही
तो क्यों उनके बन्दे लड़ते हैं?
कुछ लोगों के कहने पे
क्यों आपस में लड़के मरते हैं?

इस हिंसा की आग में कहीं
जल न जाए हिंदुस्तान
झुलस न जाए सारे गुल
बंजर न हो यह गुलिस्तान

सदियों से सब यहीं बसे हैं
बन गए हैं इस वतन की पहचान
बिन मुस्लिम है आधा हिंदू
बिन हिंदू, अधूरा है मुस्लमान

धर्म मज़हब से ऊपर तुम हो
आख़िर एक इंसान
और तुम्हारा वतन येही है
यह है तुम्हारा हिंदुस्तान

(This was written in memory of all those who lost their lives in the Mumbai riots in 1993 and the Godhra carnage in 2002. May their souls rest in peace.)

reasons to blog

2008-03-17T01:50:00.000+09:00

A blog. What is it? Is it an online diary? Is it a medium to let out surplus creativity? Is it an attempt at promoting one’s writing skills?

Such questions kept popping up in my mind due to the excessive time I had at hand to kill. For me, it is a little of all of the above but mostly it is a platform to write. Just that. If I have something that comes to my mind and I want to let it out through poetry or prose, I know what to do. People read it. Some may like it and some others may not but when I am putting up a post, that’s not the first thing on my mind. Being a copywriter by profession, I am judged the whole time on the basis of what I write and it is the source of my bread and butter. But when I write my blog, it is for myself. To let out everything that clogs my mind from time to time.

I have come across people who write it for a specific purpose and seek to accomplish something through it. And I have also come across people who’re like me. Little T is one of those. Then there are those who use their blog as a medium to earn a little extra cash. And those who make their blog a personal diary.

Honestly, I know this isn’t one of my best posts and I don’t even know why I am writing this. Maybe because I just felt like it. Anyway, I will not drag it too long. Whatever be the reason, writing serves as an excellent medium to let out everything that’s pent up inside.

So to all those who put up their posts without any particular purpose and without the fear of being judged, welcome to the club. Keep the good work flowing in. that, by the way, reminds me that of all the writers I have come across, little T stand head and shoulders above the rest. Abstract as it may sound sometimes, her posts have a much deeper meaning and she’s an excellent writer. Besides being my constant inspiration, she herself has an amazing ability to put things across rather simply. What can I say, it just one of the many things that make me love her so much. I look forward to reading her posts everyday…

You’re the best, princess. May everything nice happen to you.

Adios.

confessions and memoirs

2008-03-16T16:45:00.001+09:00

Before you start reading this, must tell you that this is an autobiographical account and so it might not make an “interesting read”.

The first crush I had was over a decade ago when I was 13. I don’t even remember her name now. It just faded away in the tides of time. People now tell me that I have a way with women but it is a result of conscious cultivation.

I was never the popular or happening kid in school. Always on the sidelines with very little interaction with girls. It was more cause the girls probably never found me interesting enough. Needless to say, I was always treated as a loser. So I set out to prove a point. When I was 14, I had my first taste of sex. Rather early, I agree but as I said, I had a point to prove. Over the years, things just went haywire…

Women stepped in and out of my life. In college, it was a status symbol. And I must confess that it felt good cause after all, I had worked a lot to reach that stage. All I had done was set out to tell people that I wasn’t a loser and stop. But that stop never happened. It was like the dam had crumbled before gushing waters and there was nothing that could stop it.

But deep inside, I was jealous of those who had true relationships because it only made me aware of how hollow I was. Then I had my first relationship. It was with a childhood friend. It was long distance and she could never manage to have that faith I guess because of the way she had seen talk to women. I tried making things work for a year and it just split. But I was 17 back then I got over it.

Then when I went to Symbiosis, my first intense relationship happened. We had our differences but most times I guess it was buried due to the physical intimacy. When I walked out of Symbiosis and into MICA, it so happened that a senior of that girl, who had asked her out earlier, asked her once again to be with him. She agreed. Simple reason. He had a great job and I didn’t. I felt cheated. I felt like I wasn’t cut out for serious relationships. So I went back to being what I was. For a very simple reason that I thought that was what I was the best at.

Then little T happened to me. I had known her for two years back then and had always related to her completely. We thought alike, we liked the same things, neither of us were over possessive and we had similar values. I mustered all my courage and asked her out, keeping nothing about me hidden from her. She agreed. Things were going great. But then suddenly she decided she didn’t want it. It came as a shock and I was clueless. I will not get into the details because it is only for me and her to know. I was heart broken. Lost faith in things. But somehow, this girl is so special that I haven’t been able to imagine life without her. I haven’t been able to move on and take an interest in other women. I can’t still call her my EX cause from my heart, I still love her beyond everything else. I always. I understand the reason behind her decision and though I think it was a little too early, but I had made a promise to her that I would stand by her through everything, no matter what. And I intend to live upto that promise. In that little time that we were together, she showed me a side of life that I was never aware of! She was...and still is...my strength and an unfaltering support.

I respect her decision but if I really have a way with women, I just hope it works on her. Even if it doesn’t work on other women, I really don’t care. It’s just a hope that she changes her decision and the magic works, just for one last time…on my little princess...

Adios.

The epitaph writer

2008-03-11T06:32:00.001+09:00

(Once again…thank you little T for your inspiration)

There was once an epitaph writer. All he did in his torn down shack was carving epitaphs on tombstones. With his earnings, he barely managed two square meals a day but never did he complain. People barely saw much of him since he kept to himself at most times except for when the family of the dead sought his services. He lives in a corner of the cemetery, excommunicated from the world…almost.

But life had not always been like this. He had been a jolly young man. He had dreams, ambitions, and a beautiful woman who made life seem brighter every following day. That woman meant more to him than the breath in his body and for her, if humanly possible; he was ready to challenge even the divine. Their love was stronger than the mountains that encircled their little village and deeper than the fathomless sea that lay beyond those mountains. She was a beautiful damsel with auburn locks running down her shoulders and the eyes that would make the Sun seem like a bleak spot in the sky. Her laughter was like the gurgling brook that ran by his house and he looked forward to meeting her by the banks. She arrived every afternoon and stayed till the Sun sank below the horizon. They laughed together, sitting on the rocks nearby. They held hands and made love under the shade of the apple tree.

Life, though, had different plans. One day, she was diagnosed with an incurable disease. No doctor had ever witnessed such a case before. The epitaph writer was a rich young man. The sole heir to a grand fortune. He left no stone unturned to get her the best treatment. He spared nothing to bring her back from the clutches of death. As every moment passed, his love for her grew stronger, knowing that those were probably their last moments together. And the day she breathed her last, ailing, in his arms, she asked him for just one thing. She asked him to write the epitaph that would be inscribed on her tombstone because she wanted to feel close to him even after she had departed from the world of the mortals. It was her last wish and he, who hadnever denied the smallest of her demands, couldn’t bring himself to dishonour her last wish. So the day they buried her forever, the tombstone on her grave carried an epitaph written by him. In the beginning, he was angry with life. He despised the divine powers for having done this to him but as time wore on, he accepted the occurrence as a decision of destiny. His love for her, he knew, would never wane so he left his mansion and took up residence in the torn down shack in one corner of the cemetery. That way, he thought, he could stay close to her vicariously and through every epitaph he carved, he thought he was sending her the message that though life put them poles apart, in death they would be reunited.

It had been decades since she was dead but his love remained just as strong and when one day, they found him dead in his shack, he had his own epitaph carved on a block of stone. It said, “Here lies the epitaph writer who has finally been united with his princess. Though in death, but united nevertheless.”

reminiscing those days...

2008-03-11T05:34:00.000+09:00

Gone are the days when I could stand and stare

The times when I could live without a care

It seems like that blissful era

Has disappeared in the sands of time

The meaning of life has changed over the years

All the seasons filled with joys and tears

Only I have remained in this evolving world

Everything around me, it seems, has vanished

The years of school and college

Those classes teeming with mischievous pupils

Nights of wandering aimlessly

Defying every convention put forth

But now, the tables have turned

Life has become a whirlwind which may carry me

I do not know to which unknown land

Today, life dictates the terms

I stand akin to a mute spectator

Waiting for the reins to be returned to me

So that I can gallop away

To the destination I desire

But such is the irony of destiny

That the more I thrash to rid myself of this quicksand

The more I sink in…

I am still sinking…

Sans you

2008-03-10T19:11:00.001+09:00

(To my ubiquitous inspiration)

Answers I seek
To fathomless questions
Lost in the labyrinth of life
I scout for the way out

My curiosity resonates in my mind
Sparing not a second to breathe.
Claustrophobic I feel
Like locked in an attic without a key

My dreams are nothing but
Mere hazy pictures
My reality is nothing save
A surreal experience of existence

I ask God repeatedly
But the divine retort is complete silence
And in that deathly calm
I try hard to hear your voice

You have always held the solutions
To all those queries I have had
In your eyes I see
The infinite ocean come alive

In my darkest hour
Your presence lends light
You’re the silver lining
Around the opaque clouds

In the mirage of life
Only you’re the truth
A truth I want to embrace
And lose myself in

Pictures

2008-03-02T07:50:00.001+09:00

They envelop the barren walls
Looking at me in absolute silence
Reminding me of those moments
That lie etched in my mind

Those are moments they hold
Instants immortalized in time
Bringing alive the days of togetherness
Giving me the hope to live for

They say so much without a word
I can see them speak through your eyes
I can breathe your scent
Through your cascading hair

These little pictures
Form the collage of my life
A life that without you
Seems colourless and dull

So I clean these pictures daily
Don’t want them to get dusty
Cause when you do come back princess
I want to feel like the separation never happened!

Hope and all that…

2008-02-25T05:52:00.000+09:00

Sometimes life leaves so many questions unanswered that it becomes difficult to fathom the depths of whatever is happening. But then, there is that little flame flickering in the heart that people call hope. That’s what life is all about.

Sounds preachy? Not really the intention cause I have never really been much of a preacher. That’s an interesting business, though…and has a lot of money in it too! Now, I am drifting away from the main thing, so let me just continue with the main topic before I lose it.

A few things that happened recently have just strengthened my faith in hope. A hope that no matter what happens, when you love someone, the person is bound to notice it and love you back. Maybe more, maybe less but love you nevertheless. Just that when you go to bed at night, your conscience should be clear that you have given in your hundred percent. So is the case when it comes to work too, at times. But more so with personal life cause in personal life, the tendency of things not being in your control is higher. And in such a case, knowing that you have given everything you had is good cause then you know that sooner or later, that other person will realize. THAT, my friend, is hope. Sometimes, there are things that only time can do. And hope is what helps a person wait. Stop and wait.

So for all of you, who have gone through something similar, or those who can relate to this, I guess you will understand what I am trying to say. For the rest, well, have the faith in hope. Life will bring back what you think it has taken away.

Adios.

It’s a dog’s life!

2008-02-20T05:15:00.001+09:00

(As I have already told you, my constant inspiration has been Little T. So here is yet another piece inspired by her. What would I do without you princess?)

One afternoon, Little T and me, we were walking down the road. We had no particular destination. Now, both of us have an amazing tendency to observe strange things. So when we came upon a garbage dump, it wasn’t very difficult to miss that sight.

On a torn couch, there was a street dog, sitting like it was his throne and he was the king. He looked around at people walking to and fro. I walked up to him to have a conversation. And this is what it turned out to be like…

Me: Hey fella! What’s up in life?

Dog: My name is Bow Wow. Show some respect!

Me: Oh I am sorry. So, how has your day been so far Bow Wow?

Dog: Not so bright, actually. I woke up from sleep rather early this morning. Around noon I guess. Since then I have been doing this and that. So a little tired. And just as I was planning to begin my siesta, you dropped by. Woof!

Me: But what have you done that has tired you out so much? I mean, it’s barely been four hours since you woke up!

Dog: You humans never understand! And that’s precisely why you’re all so primitive! All that you can think is that working is what tires one out. That maybe true for less evolved beings like you. But I have higher goals to pursue. Look at those pretty females over there? The mating season’s approaching. Do you have any idea how much stress that is?! There is so much competition! So ensure my girlfriend didn’t go tail in tail with another dog, I had to go all the way to Sugar N Spice to get her favorite butterscotch pastries. Though, yes, I made a cute face and managed to get a pretty big piece. But have you ever considered the distance?! It’s more than fifty steps away. So that makes it at least a hundred steps to and fro…plus I haven’t really had much to eat in the day, besides that packet of bourbon biscuits and six pieces of chicken. I didn’t even have a proper dessert. That kid I met was such a miser, he gave me just half the chocolate!

Me: Pardon me, but it doesn’t sound like very hard work to me. I mean, that’s hardly any work at all.

Dog: See? That’s why I said you humans are primitive. I mean, work does go beyond office, you know. Look at me. I am sitting on this couch cause my girlfriend liked it and I can’t let any other dog take possession of it and impress her before I do! So I have to sit here and stare at all you strange two legged creatures. Do you have any clue about how much energy it takes to keep moving my head from side to side? I would rather sleep and conserve energy. See…that’s why I said that you humans are stupid. You don’t understand how important it is to save energy. C’mon, move on now, I got work to do. I have to guard this couch for my beloved otherwise she will be mad at me!

So I left Bow Wow alone and continued on my walk with Little T. But now, as I am sitting in my office at 2 in the morning, I have realized two things. First, I would rather be a dog. Trust me, sitting on the couch guarding it for Little T is much more worthwhile than slogging it out in the office. Second, across all species, human or animal, one universal truth prevails. When a guy is in love, he is ready to go to any length to impress his girl and make her feel special. At least, I do. Are you listening Little T?
Anyway, I got to get back to work, cause unfortunately, I don’t have a dog’s life.

Adios.

freaky!

2008-02-17T21:20:00.001+09:00

There is a girl in my office. Well, nothing unusual about a girl in the office. But this girl is different. Her wax statue should be put up in Madame Tussauds (can you see the sarcasm in the statement?). She’s one of a kind. And allow me to now launch into a tirade about what sets her apart. I hope it will be a nice read, even if it doesn’t throw you off your chair laughing.

Now, no names to be taken, ok? So, here it goes.
First her habit of nose digging is endless. I wonder sometimes, what is that she is looking for in there? And it isn’t just me. Other people in the office are equally perplexed. A nose definitely isn’t the best place to bury a treasure. Or maybe she was an archeologist in her previous birth! Possibilities are endless, so lets not get there. I don’t want to gross you out.
Moving on, there is so much space between her ears (thanks to the absence of the brain) that half of the city’s population can live there if she starts leasing that space out. I guess the authorities should take notice of this. Does she pay her property taxes? To add to everyone’s misery she has the capability to nag people to death. Or almost to death. And I guess she’s never heard that there are medicines to cure people scratching problems cause she keeps scratching the unmentionables to no end.

Well, that permanent scowl on her face makes her look constipated. Or maybe she actually suffers from the problem. The other day she fell flat on all fours while walking around the office. Sad. I know. It might have broken the floor tiles!

Now it may sound like I am really biased against her nut it isn’t just me. It’s a lot of other people in the office. The reason is simple. She works at her own pace and expects everyone to do the same. Sorry, not possible. No matter what time she comes in, at 6, she’s out while we slog our behinds off to ensure that the work quality doesn’t suffer. She seems to forget that I am a copywriter and my partner is an art director. There is a little difference between us and operators. Her favourite request is: please change this oen word in the line. I mean, really, writing isn’t just about stringing words together. But that point seems to miss her by miles!

Well, I just hope God knocks enough sense in her head so that she doesn’t drive me and the others in the office to the brink of insanity!
Amen.

Well, I will make a move now.

Adios.

please...just once...

2008-02-16T16:42:00.002+09:00

My heart yearns for you
But I can not cry…
Cause I am dead from inside
My tears are dry…

One fine day
You just walked away…
For no reason
You had nothing to say…

Life was beautiful
With you by my side…
You were my little treasure
You were my pride…

My strength was you
You were my life…
Now every moment, sans you
Is a struggle to survive…

Your presence is ubiquitous
In every part of me…
There was no one like you ever
There never will be…

I do not know
Where I went wrong…
When did cacophony
Replace the wonderful song?

All I want is a last chance
To take you into my arms…
In the winter chill
I want to keep you warm…

Every hour of the day
As I drag my corpse…
What keeps me going
Is that little glimmer of hope…

One fine day
Maybe I will have you in my arms again…
I promise I will love you so much
It will wipe out all your pain…

(LOVE YOU Little T)

simmering pot...

2008-01-05T06:11:00.000+09:00

I am sitting at the airport right now waiting to take my flight to Kolkata. Among the many things that I am doing right now out of sheer boredom, is thinking. And my mind is strange so when I think, naturally the thoughts are equally bizarre! Since it is 3.30 in the morning, a lot of people have decided to park themselves on the chairs and sofas here. Some of them are sound asleep! That made me think. I was thinking about dreams.

It is a weird thing…when one sinks deep into the lap of slumber, the subconscious mind takes over. Abstract thoughts rise and fall, sometimes without us even realizing it! A long and defined dream is rare…at least for me I guess. It is amazing how dreams transport people into a land they haven’t been to before. There are places, people, incidents which might have never happened but still appear during slumber time. The indigenous mind conjures up images rising completely out of figments of imagination. And interestingly, if the dream is about something that has never happened, at least until now, then the faces of people who form a part of that dream are generally blurred or not seen at all! Pretty much like a suspense movie where the identity of the protagonist or antagonist is not revealed until the end. It looks like the viewers will just see the face but then all of a sudden…the scene changes or is cut. The same holds true for dreams too! A glimpse of a hand, clothes, body…but never…or at least rarely the face.

But there is something that is even more difficult to understand. That is, the occurrence of incidents that a person had dreamt about or visit to a certain that appears in a person’s dream but he or she has never been there before! It has happened to me and hence I guess I am all the more freaked out by it. I went to this certain cathedral when I had visited Goa for the first time. Now, since that was my first visit to Goa, needless to say, I had obviously never been to the cathedral before! Still, as soon as I was there, I instinctively knew the way around and which door led to which passage. I know it sounds creepy but I am not making this up. It was absolutely like the cathedral I had seen in my dream! In the dream, I was running away from something and had sought shelter in the cathedral. What I was running away from, where I had come from, where I was headed, who was I in the dream…I know nothing. I just remember having explored the cathedral in the dream and even in reality, it turned out to be absolutely the same! The whole place had a feeling of déja vu. I have heard people say that dream arise from whatever the person thinks about throughout the day or just before falling asleep. Going by that, many times, I tried to think of things consciously just before I fell asleep, but there were times when the dream and what I had thought about had no connection at all! So it is about thinking of something or thoughts popping into the head unknowingly from which these dreams stem?

I am no doctor and neither am I a person who has mastered the art of interpreting dreams. In fact, I don’t even know if every dream has a meaning but the truth is…dreams are, at times, inexplicable! No logic…no reason can fathom the unfathomable depths of the human mind and considering that these dreams arise from this very mind, they are equally mysterious! Tell me, how does one explain a dream where a person sees an unknown entity and finds himself or herself in active conversation (either hostile or pleasant) with that other person?! Now that I have written about these thoughts that were on my mind, I don’t know what I will dream of when I fall asleep next…which maybe on the flight! On a lighter note though, I guess the dream will be pleasant if I fall off to sleep on the flight because I am going to meet little T after a long time and she has been on my mind a lot…both consciously and I am sure…unconsciously. The ceaseless chain reaction of thoughts in my mind is unstoppable but I guess my laptop’s battery doesn’t have enough longevity to keep pace. What I want to say is that the indication of low battery is on and hence I have to end this piece here.

I hope I didn’t scare you with this piece because that wasn’t the intention. I was just documenting what was going on in my little brain. Sorry if I did give you a jolt. Really. Anyway, I hope you liked it and now I shall switch this off and get bored once again, thinking of crazy things. Will be back soon unless, of course, the flight crashes and I perish…

If that be the case then I just want to wish all of you a great Christmas and New year.

Adios.

A mere cog-wheel

2008-01-04T22:28:00.000+09:00

It is a huge machine, this thing that I am stuck in the middle of. All I do the whole day, ceaselessly, is rotate. You may miss me effortlessly if you just glance at the machine but hey…look closer…here…on your left bottom corner. I am right here. I exist though I may not be the single most imposing thing in this huge heap of iron and steel. But I want you to know that I do exist.

How long I have been here, I do not remember. How much longer I will be here, I do not know. The only thing I am sure of and the only piece of truth is that right now I am here. Ignored, forgotten, fatigued and unappreciated. That was my life till recently. But one fine day the simmering pot of patience boiled over. It happened when an operator kicked me! I understand that I am made of metal and am seldom noticed but being kicked isn’t the best of feelings.

So I decided to rebel. I stopped rotating. I just stopped. As a result the machine didn’t work any more! Everything came to a standstill. Work froze. Suddenly everybody realized that I existed and all attention was diverted to me. People started fussing over the fact that this little cog-wheel was just not ready to budge. Some even screamed at each other. Sheesh! Humans!

When forcing proved futile, the humans resorted to coaxing and oiling. I love the taste of that delicious machine oil, especially that one that comes in the red bottle and so I wasn’t complaining. A little cog seldom gets a chance to be the center of attention! After I had had my fill of the oil and attention, I decided to give in. It isn’t true when people say that things made of metal are heartless. In fact, that is a blatant lie because we have hearts that are softer than the ones humans have. So I started rotating again and life was back to normal. For a few days, people were careful not to tick me off again but now, once again things are returning to the way they were before the mutiny. Looks like I have to get back to repeating what I did!

I don’t have a problem but there is only one thing that’s bothering me…is a mutiny, a rebellion the only way to make oneself heard loud and clear? If that is true, then it is rather sad, isn’t it? I will leave you to ponder over it in your free time.

Adios.

Wilted Flowers

2008-01-04T19:00:00.000+09:00

In the garden blooming with flowers
I was walking one day…
In awe of nature’s diversity
When my eyes came to rest upon them

Wilted flowers they were
And they stared at me blankly
Clearly out of place they were
But that look on them I can’t forget

“Why are we here?” they seemed to ask
A question I found impossible to answer
In the midst of the colourful array
A bunch of wilted flowers…

Once they too must have been in bloom
Bursting with colour
Brimming with fragrance
But today they stood like corpses

That time couldn’t come back
The days of their prime
The wheel had spun already
And that reminded me of you

The time we were together
Those few days of bliss
And today though you reside in my heart
A long distance has put us apart

I wish the clock was
A slave to my whims and wishes
But alas it isn’t
And I have to wait for the right time…

Days, weeks, months…
How long it will be I do not know
But I watered those wilted flowers
In the hope that time flies by….

chomp chomp...

2007-12-21T03:22:00.000+09:00

Hello everyone!

I am back again to chew your brains. Chew them nice and slow and carefully so that it is easily digested because after all, I am not a cannibal by nature. It will take some time for me to get used to the dish on the menu called “Human Brain sans Spices”. Yeah I know the dish sounds crazy and complicated but then…the brain IS a pretty complicated thing, isn’t it? On the other hand, I myself have a tiny little brain which sometimes is incapable of processing information and deliver and hence I have to make up for it by chewing others’ brains and adding them to my stock. Pure business…nothing personal. :-D

But what surprised me the most was what some of my readers said. As it is, I was pleasantly surprised to know that people do read this incomprehensible rubbish that I write…as in they have the time to do so but what surprised me even more was the fact that they wanted more of it! Believe it or not, some of them actually asked me to write more often because they like reading my blog. The capability and capacity of human beings to indulge in self torture amazes me! But then again…if it wasn’t for readers like them…my blog would have just been another wandering webpage in cyberspace! All said and done, I thank all the readers who have read my blog and continue to do so. It feels nice. Now, before I get swayed by my emotions and start crying out of joy, let me move on…

I have been doing some thinking to kill time. I write this blog for myself. Crazy, irrelevant, good or bad…whatever it is, I write it for myself and hence there is no fixed guideline to guide it. But I was thinking of giving it a direction. Sarcasm and stupidity come to me naturally. I was born sarcastic and stupid I guess…but then that will be quite a combo won’t it? And all the readers who have the patience to sit through it, most probably because of the lack of anything better to do at that point in life, probably do so because my posts don’t follow the rules of demand and supply and I guess people do want a break from the monotony of life and these utterly insane pieces I write provide that. So I guess somewhere, unknowingly I AM following the rules of demand and supply my filling up the gap. But one earnest request readers, please leave your comments on the posts because I get to know that someone has read it. Feels nice you know? Specially for someone like me who writes for the bread, butter and other dishes that make up the meals. Oh, and that does not include the dish “Human Brains sans Spices”.

One thing I am certain about. I have a strange life. At least strange enough to weave it into a story and make a movie out of it. Now the movie sells or not is my lookout. But experience has reinstated my belief in the fact that strange stuff does sell and indeed…it sells well! And I can be a serious threat to Albert Einstein sometimes due to sheer presence of intellect! I will give you and example so that you understand it better. But do not…I repeat…do not laugh at it. Shut your nose, choke yourself, bury your face in the pillow or bite any part of your body to stop yourself but DO NOT LAUGH. I mean come on, just because you are intelligent, you do not have the right to make fun of those who lack it! Anyway, one fine day, I had to scribble something on a piece of paper because I was thinking of concepts and I couldn’t find a shred of paper…let alone a whole sheet. I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find any. So guess what I did? I took a blank printout. Yes, if you think this is funny, then you haven’t heard of what people around me are capable of. Another not so fine day, this other friend of mine was sitting with me to wrack his brains for ideas when I suddenly saw a flash of wisdom in his eyes and thought he had come up with something amazing when he looked at me and asked me a question that left me staring at him…blankly. The question was…when a hen lays an egg, does it grow in size between the time it is laid and the time it hatches? Some people surprise me even more! While I was in college, we had gone partying and there were ten people. Four couples and two singles. One of those singles happened to be the hopeless me…and the other was a girl. So circumstances forced to pretend to be a couple. So far so good. Then this so called female partner of mine decided to go on an overdose of whatever alcoholic beverage she was drinking and needless to say, was sloshed. She sat behind me on the bike (yes, I am so poor I can’t afford a car…can anyone donate one to me?) and I was riding slowly to prevent her from falling off because she was sleeping (I mean SOUND ASLEEP) with her head resting on my back. Suddenly she woke up and said “don’t worry…ride fast…if I fall, I will give you a missed call and you can pick me up!”

I told you my life is crazy! Ok…now I will not give you an overdose of my insanity and my life lest something similar happens to you. Besides…I have a little work and I am bored of writing this piece. For those who think I don’t work…I DO! Though I agree it is rare but I do. And if you liked this one then leave your comments. I promise I will be back real soon.

Adios.

Why doesn’t God pay taxes?!

2007-12-04T17:24:00.000+09:00

(This piece is not written with the intention of hurting the sentiments of any ethnic group, religion or individual. It does not have any blasphemous intention either. It is just an attempt at harmless humor. Though, if it does hurt anyone’s sentiments or feelings, then I do apologize and before I begin…I would also like to extend the apologies to God himself and hope He takes it with a pinch of salt.)

Once again, my little T forms an inspiration for yet another piece of creative nonsense. An attempt at humor…but pointless nevertheless. The only thing this piece has to offer is a little bit of entertainment to anyone who’s bored in life.

We (little T and me) were talking and during conversation one of us just happened to mention how God must be amused and entertained by our story. And I am sure that ours is not the only story. There must be plenty more across the world that keep Him entertained. “The world is a stage….” this thing written by Shakespeare doesn’t hold so true in anyone else’s case! But then…for such top class entertainment at all times across various genres and time zones…shouldn’t there be an entertainment tax levied on him?! Then again, believers all around the world put forth their offerings in cash and kind to Him and that should attract an income tax, shouldn’t it? I mean…no offence but I am just looking at it from the point of view of a mere mortal who pays his taxes and has seen people pay taxes for income, entertainment and services which are of far inferior quality! Then with just top of line the line stuff…why are the taxes exempted?

The reason I think, is the fact that nobody in any revenue and tax department around the world has the guts to actually send Him summons for evasion of taxes and besides…the other problem is…what address does one send the summons to?! Though suing Him for evading taxes IS a solution since all lawyers apparently reside in the Devil’s domain and Lucifer definitely will be more than willing to help but the risk is that he may ask for the person’s soul in return. Not a cheap bargain now, is it?! In any case, I really don’t think mortals would want to sue God and risk enraging Him.

Hence He remains untouched by law…safe and secure from any legal action. I guess this is just one of the many fringe benefits of being God but I guess considering the amount of hard work that it takes to play God, this kind of leeway can be given. What do you say?

Adios.

may he rest in peace

2007-11-28T02:16:00.001+09:00

When first I saw him he was

A little fur ball…

Black and white

Drooping ears…a nose so wet

He was named Chess

And as time flew

Into the family and in size

He grew…

Each morning he woke me up

As he snuggled into my blanket

His curly tail wagged with delight

Every time I came home!

With a grin on his face

And undying enthusiasm

He hunted insects…

Or at least tried to.

Corn and mangoes

Where things he loved

Besides chewing on his

Plastic toys…

Unruly he was

A real brat at times

But nonetheless adorable

With mischievous eyes

To spin around

And try to hold his tail

Was how he tried

To express his anger

Home was his kingdom

No part unexplored

He the undisputed king

Loved and pampered by all

But one fine day…

He decided to leave

Everyone stunned…

He left forever…

No time to prepare

For the sudden shock…

Not a chance to see him

For that one last time…

Now as he lies in his grave so deep

I feel he will just jump up barking

Come wagging his tail once again

Or maybe…I will have to just wait

For the truth to sync in…

my version of anti smoking...

2007-10-28T08:32:00.001+09:00

Absolute rubbish!

2007-10-26T07:21:00.000+09:00

Ok. Before I begin, please answer this: how much wood would a wood-chuck chuck, if a wood-chuck could chuck wood?

The answer is simple: a wood-chuck would chuck as much wood if a wood-chuck could chuck wood.

Now, that definitely made no sense, did that? I will be surprised if it did because in truth, that was absolute gibberish. Let me now come to the main topic. Rubbish or gibberish is something that is one can call an art. No I am not kidding. In fact, talking or writing absolute gibberish with complete finesse is a matter of a lot of practice and like any other skill, practice hones this skill as well!

People have been speaking bullshit (pardon my use of expletives, please) ever since the dawn of time and continue to do so at their convenience. What is not easily found is the finesse. Rubbish, if laced with a dash of the right tone and style can be extremely effective. It can con the world! Look at our politicians for example. They have been giving us the same gibberish through all these years and they still end up being in power. What is more surprising is the fact that we are the ones who put them there!

Most bosses also are extremely proficient at this and in fact, it is a kind of must have quality to have to become a boss! Oops! Did I give you a secret?! Sorry. Delete the file from your memory. Delete delete delete…! No offence to any boss. It is all in good spirit...

The profession I am into has taught me two things. First is that when one can’t convince a person with logic, he or she should confuse the person with utter crap. Second is that when one can’t be bedazzled with brilliance, it is best to baffle the person with bullshit (pardon me again) because that is the only way out! Let me now introduce myself. I am a copywriter. For those of you who do not know, my job is to write all the stuff that fills up your ears during the commercials! For Christ’s sake, absolute incomprehensible gibberish with total finesse is what forms my bread, butter, jam, omelets, sausages, coffee and sugar! Look at the effectiveness of fine rubbish…people actually believe that the brand ambassadors actually use the products they endorse! I mean, that too, in spite of subconsciously realizing that it isn’t true.

Absolute and good quality rubbish is pretty useful in real life too! It can get people out of really sticky situations and that too, unscathed! Sounds good? I know but then it requires skills that have to be polished over years. Lying confidently is one such sub art. When you lie, believe in it completely and the confidence will radiate on your face!

Because if one listens carefully, nothing in this world can be absolute rubbish unless one has spent countless hours perfecting the art. And all the while that one lies, one has to be aware of the string that is going to be built.

Now I am smiling to myself. Look at yourself. I am sitting here at three in the freaking morning because I am bored, writing this piece of trash (literally) and you’re actually reading it! No offence. Just kidding but now you know that people read through and listen to complete crap even without realizing it! I am planning to start coaching classes. Tell me if you want to join. The guarantee is that you will be a master at this art. And no…the guarantee is not rubbish. Tell me if you liked this piece or not. I shall wait.

Adios.

through the woods...

2007-10-26T06:46:00.000+09:00

One fine day

I walked through the woods

Knowing not

What lay ahead…

Dry leaves crumpling

Under my feet

The birds chirping

In the trees massive…

Alone I walked

Through those woods

Waiting for someone

To accompany me…

The breeze was pleasant

The sweet scent of the wild

I wanted to lose myself

In the pleasant morn…

On reaching a gurgling brook

I came upon a little princess

Trying to pluck the apples

Off the highest branch…

Captivated I was

By the radiant face

The carefree air

That enveloped her…

As I approached she fled

Scared that I may mean harm

She peeped out

From behind the other tree…

I plucked and apple and

Asked her to take it

Hesitatingly she held out her hand

To take the tempting red apple…

Acquaintance blossomed into love

And now I only pray that

This walk through the woods

Should last to eternity…

Incredible…

2007-10-25T09:24:00.001+09:00

That is one word that definitely sums up what life is all about!

I mean, things happen when they are least expected and it is good to know that things are looking up!

One thing that really adds to life is to have someone special…someone whom one can hold and talk to when things seem to go awry and nothing seems to work. With all due gratitude to God, I have found that person and I truly believe that anyone who finds the right person in life is extremely lucky because more than half the people across the world spend more than half their lives to find that right person and by the time they find the person, it is too late! Sometimes, that might even happen posthumously!

But for me, life has always had surprises in store and the biggest and the most pleasant is, was and will be her. She came in like that light at the end of the tunnel just when I had begun to think that I will never get out of there…

She reinstated my belief in live, love and things that are nice and coveted by all of us. At least, most of us. Sometimes she in my arms and sometimes, she is physically away from me but in the center of my heart, she always has her abode. And for the first time, I feel anchored to the shore. The feeling, needless to say, is marvelous and I want to cherish it till the last day I live. I had always heard that being in love was wonderful but for the first time, I am experiencing it myself.

Trust me, all those people who haven’t felt it yet, you don’t know what you’re missing out on in life. So take my advice, go out there and if there is someone whom you want to say something to then just say it out loud. Nothing works as good as saying things clearly and openly. Believe me, it will work, just like it did for me.

When that happens, do not forget to celebrate because if you do not celebrate when life gives you an opportunity to, then who knows…you might just run out of chances!

Ok? So go on and tell me how things went!

Adios.

Rendezvous with a vampire

2007-10-09T07:27:00.000+09:00

One thing I would like to tell you before you read any further…vampires are not really as mean and violent and not even remotely as seductive as we make them out to be. In fact, a few of them are…vegetarian! Surprised? Read on to figure it out!

It happened a few years back. I was coming home from a friend’s place and it was really late. I didn’t have any other mode of transport save my lovely bike back then. So I hit the road. It had totally slipped my mind that it was Friday the 13th! Not that I really believed in ghosts and other paranormal creatures…till that night, that is.

On my way home, there is the biggest graveyard in the city. I have crossed countless times and when people said things like it was haunted, I just laughed it off! I had been there myself out of sheer curiosity and had never found anything even remotely scary. So I never believed the fact that ghosts of various kinds inhabited that patch.

That night, my bike just went dead right in front of the gate of that cemetery and 1.30 in the night, the bike going dead in the middle of the road can be quite annoying specially because there definitely wouldn’t be a mechanic around at that ungodly hour unless I decided to dig up the grave of a dead mechanic and wake him up from his slumber. Had absolutely no intention of doing that. So I started tinkering around with the bike, aided by my limited knowledge of engines and automobiles. This, needless to say went in vain.

Suddenly I heard a voice. “Hey buddy, need a hand?” said the voice. I was pretty startled by a voice coming out of nowhere. I turned around to discover a really tall gentleman standing behind me. I mean really tall because he was a good foot taller than me and I myself stand more than 6 feet above sea level! “Err…sir my engine seems to have conked off and I really don’t know where to find a mechanic around” I said…still a little surprised seeing the kind of clothes he was wearing and his general appearance, even besides the height. He wore a red and black cape with a high rise collar, a frilly shirt and pretty tight trousers. Looked like he had either stepped out of a period film or was headed for a theme party. But this was too late for someone to be HEADED to a party. Maybe he was going back home and like a good citizen, had stopped by to help. But then, he looked pretty well off and definitely not like a person who couldn’t afford the luxury of a swanky car. So in the name of sweet Jesus was he doing here at this hour of the night. Didn’t look too old either…maybe 30…not more. Anyway, I had other things to worry about so for the time being I decided to let it be.

He started poking and clanking around the engine and grunting when he came upon a jammed screw or bolt. Meanwhile, I was thirsty and there was no other place with the possibility of finding water so I stepped into the cemetery and looked around if there was a caretaker or anyone else around. There wasn’t a single living human soul around. But then I saw an earthen pot of water and a glass beside it. The water was pretty clean and the thirst was getting to me so I really couldn’t wait for mineral water. Hence I poured some into the glass and drank. The water was surprisingly refreshing. Looked around for a place to sit because I was bored and didn’t want to disturb the stranger in his work so I apologized to a grave and sat on one end of it. I lit up a cigarette and glanced around the whole place. A little mist and the rustle of leaves but nothing really unusual so I moved a little further up and leaned against the headstone. Was quite comfy and I almost started to doze off when the same voice scared the moonlight out of me suddenly! I mean come on, it was halfway through the night, I was sitting in a cemetery and here I had a guy who an unusually husky and hollow voice! I had every damn reason to be scared.

“I tried repairing it but it didn’t work! You will need a modern mechanic. They make machines so complicated nowadays! I remember, when I bought my car in 1832, I could repair it all by myself! Those automobiles were wonderful. They were simple and as wise people have truly said, beauty is simplicity” he said in an extremely preachy tone. I would have ignored what he said had it not been for the year that he mentioned. Did he just say 1832?!

Then it happened…”Oh and let me introduce myself, I am Vampire Lord Sipper”. My first reaction was to burst out laughing thinking it was a joke. He clearly didn’t like the idea of me taking his serious introduction as something to be laughed at so he promptly changed into a bat, circled around me twice and changed back to his human form again. I was, needless to say, shell shocked. “Now do you believe me?” he asked calmly. Did I now? I wanted to run but it felt like my feet were glued to the ground! So much for not believing in ghosts. “Oh and I think you should get off Wimpy’s grave. He really doesn’t like it and he can be a pretty nasty guy at times”. “Thanks Sipper, for getting this guy’s butt off my face. I owe you one bro!” came the sound from inside the grave.

“You look scared boy! Don’t worry, I wont dig my fangs into you and drink every drop of blood that runs in your veins till you run dry. I have turned vegetarian. You’re lucky and besides, I do not have a taste for smokers anyway!” he said casually with a grin. So much for comfort! “So, lad, tell me your name! It’s been really long since I have spoken to a human and since you two wheeler is not going to be repaired before morning anyway, let’s kill some time talking”. Great! I was sitting there with a vampire and now I was expected to entertain him till sunrise. But I had little choice so I listened to him ramble on. I have to admit, the chap was pretty interesting and had loads of things to talk about. The places he had visited, the people he had converted into vampires, his family, friends etc.

I couldn’t hold my curiosity any longer. “I have a couple of question mister err…what do I call you?” “You can call me Sipy! That’s what my friends call me!”
Awesome. Now I had befriended a vampire. I wondered how I managed to achieve such distinguished feats! No point so I moved on with my question.

“So Sipy, tell me something, what’s your blood group? I have always wondered!”
“Good and unusual question. All of us vampires have the same blood group. AB+ because when we drink blood, it is not really possible to segregate people based on their blood group. Hence it makes sense to be the universal receiver! See? Simple logic!”
Whoa! Even vampires had logic!
“And, if you don’t mind telling me…err…why exactly are you a veggie Sipy? I mean…no offence…in fact, I am glad that you have given up your blood thirst. It is indeed a wonderful thing. But I was just curious why”
Even as I said this I could hear an adage ring in my ears…CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT.

Sipy looked hurt for a moment and then smiled “I will tell you. A hundred years ago, when I was in Germany, I had rented a plush apartment in the vampire locality of Berlin and right next door, my neighbors had this beautiful and seductive daughter named Isabelle. I loved her with all my heart. She was one gorgeous woman and made men, both mortals and vampires swoon over her! This liking of mine landed me in a brawl with her brother Kirsten one day. In that I lost my fangs so I went to Dr. Fixit, the most acclaimed dentist in the vampire community. He told me with a grave face that there was nothing that he could do for my fangs because they had been injured permanently at the roots. And you know, technology wasn’t all that developed back then. He had to perform a root canal on me and trust me, when you’re a vampire, root canals are extremely painful! Isabelle flatly refused to date a vampire sans the fangs because that would make a laughing stock out of her! I didn’t blame her though I was left heartbroken. I left Germany for India. Here, bought a little coffin, a small patch in this cemetery and ijust wanted to live in anonymity for eternity. To satiate my thirst, I tried drinking blood from the blood banks but that cold blood gave me a sore throat and I had to run to Dr. Peter Khopdi who’s in the fourth grave from mine. After a point of time I decided to give up blood in favor of fruit juice. Oh…that reminds me…here…take this…Real orange juice. I am sure you will like it. No preservatives and sugar…just pure juice!”
As he said that, he pulled out two one liter bottles from under his cape and handed one to me. Wow! This guy here could actually be the brand ambassador for Real!

“But there is another thing that bothers me…why do you turn into bats of all things? I mean…not a tiger, ostrich, chicken, blue whale, eagle…nothing! Just a bat?!” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me again.

He grinned. “Look my boy, first of all, it’s easy, free and quick transportation. Second, who on earth doesn’t love to fly?! It is everyone’s fantasy! Plus since we generally live in dark places and anyway can’t allow even a drop of sunlight to touch us, so the sound waves help us find our way around. Otherwise we would have been quite accident prone! And since bats are scary looking creatures, it also adds to the scare value!”

That was an interesting piece of information! He asked me things that made him curious, like why were we humans scared of ghosts and what made us donate something as precious and delicious as blood? I answered to the best of my abilities and before either of us realized, the Sun had begun to rise. He hurriedly took leave and disappeared into his grave. I waited till the human mechanic opened his shop and I got my bike fixed. I also bought a few flowers and placed it on Sipy’s grave. May the nice chap rest in peace…till sunset. Don’t know, maybe somewhere, someday I will bump into him again.

Adios.

Being 23

2007-10-08T08:08:00.000+09:00

So, what is it about being 23? To begin with, there is an extra candle on the birthday cake. There are more people who call in to wish because of the acquaintances made over the past year and it denotes the completion of yet another year on the face of planet Earth!

Things are pretty much the same with me except for the fact that I am 23 and now have a pretty neat job, a reasonably good place to stay and to top it all off, I have the best girlfriend a guy can ever want to have! Life’s pretty good and if you have any wood, timber or plywood around you then please touchwood on my behalf. On the surface, not much has changed and I am still the same person but deep within, things have turned a little different.

I guess it is the desire to stabilize because for the first time in my life I want to take life seriously and not hang by the hinges all the time. Now I know that my life belongs to someone too and it is time to start being more sensible. I have lots to thank God for and I guess He gave me the best birthday gift of all this year…and that too a wee k in advance!

Being 23 is about having a little more mature lookout towards life and moving on with the lessons that life has given in the past. Over the years the candles have increased, years have been added on and life has rolled. So far, I really never cared about which way life is headed and neither did I care much for life itself. Now I do.

I know that there is this one beautiful girl out there who’s waiting for me to get back home every evening safe and sound because she isn’t close to me right now. Who loves me but stays silent most of the time and this has made everything a lot different from what it used to be. Money has a different definition and it no more means a commodity to be spent thoughtlessly. Everything looks nice and bright and hopes have decided to fly high once again.

I am not saying that everything is perfect and life needs no improvement but then…as little T says, one can’t appreciate joy unless one has seen sorrow! So I guess the tensions of everyday life and work just add spice to the moments that I have to myself and am happy about. Since I have been 23 for very long, maybe I can tell you a little more in detail a few months later but as of now, life looks like worth living. I am going with the flow and hope the shores are nearby. Things at home are looking up occasionally and I hope even that happens a little more regularly because then life will be near perfection. Let’s see what happens. But as of now, I have my fingers crossed.

And to all those out there who’re 23 but want to hide their age for reasons unknown, c’mon…get a life! Be happy being 23!

Adios.

A strange birthday…

2007-09-28T05:16:00.000+09:00

It’s past midnight. It’s my birthday and guess what I am doing? I am sitting in a bus and traveling! That is one amazing way to celebrate one’s birthday isn’t it??
Well, my little T did call me to wish me and that is the brightest part about the entire journey so far but then…it’s still a bus. And my physical frame has not really been made to fit into a bus I guess…
In fact I wonder how people fit so comfortably and cozily into the seats and still manage to have space to give their carnal desires an outlet! Yes, there is a couple right here which is deeply engrossed. In what? I shall not get into that lest kids be reading this.

So then…I turn 23. I am already feeling old! But this is the birthday that feels the most complete in all of those I do remember celebrating! I have a nice job…I have the best girlfriend (read little T) a guy can have and I am on a bus to meet my parents. Touchwood. And I love the fact that God is finally smiling at me. That’s awesome. Thanks Buddy!

Well, what tomorrow holds, I do not know but for now I do know that things seem complete. Though this nagging cough and cold I have had for the past couple of days has been getting on my nerves very literally, I am not complaining because God has given me a lot reason to rejoice and be happy. I don’t really want to be too greedy. This bus is supposed to hit Jaipur at an as ungodly hour as 3.30 in the morning but thankfully I am nocturnal so I don’t really have a problem. But then there is another journey from Jaipur to a place called Dausa which may take a little while longer. No issues…will do.
And well, since I do not have access to the internet right now so I shall put up this piece only once I reach. Which means that if you’re reading this, I am alive and safe. Now the question is, how am I typing this? The answer is on my laptop!

Calls have been pouring in for the past half an hour and though I am happy they have been but phone’s going low on charge!! And if this conks off then how will I speak to little T after that?!

Sorry for the interruption in the narration. The bus had stopped by at a place to eat and I was famished so had gone out to grab a bite and hence the break in the flow. Are the bus makers warped in the heads or am I too big? I really want someone to answer this for me because I can’t just find one! Leg space has been an omnipresent problem and that is one reason I like Volvos. So now the bus is running blitzkrieg on the road again like the driver really doesn’t want to see sunrise tomorrow. And I am bored. Besides, I also have to speak to little T. So then, what will happen? Will I reach Jaipur along with the other passengers and with the whacko driver behind the wheel? Or will we crash into something and perish? I really don’t want to perish right now because little T is coming down next month and I really don’t want to die without seeing her and holding her in my arms once…
Now that I have a reason to live, I really don’t want to die…so then…what will happen??
Well…the fact that you’re reading it right now is pretty much the answer! One hell of a drive that was. And hey little T…I love you.
Adios.

Finally…it’s US.

2007-09-24T19:31:00.000+09:00

“Yes”. Now THAT is a magical word. It transforms two individuals into one couple. From you and me it becomes US.
I am riding the wave of joy in life right now. Touchwood.

It all happened on the night of 20th September. It came as an expected surprise. Yes, I know it sounds strange but that is what it was. A nearly eight month long wait came to an end. My little princess…little T said yes.

The story is long and I wouldn’t like to give you all the details because some of them are meant only for her and me to know and understand. Hence I will tell you what I think I can and should. Nearly three months ago, I asked her out. The answer was a polite but firm and flat NO. I hit the dead end. But as I always have believed, hope is what sustains life. So I was hopeful.

I was like that ant climbing up the ant hill. Slow and time consuming. Many times when I thought I had scaled the entire height finally, there was something that resulted in a setback. I had to start again. The reasons were genuine and the wait was painful. But then…so many things remained unsaid…
But it was somewhere that flickering hope that kept me going. God does exist and now I am sure he likes me. I may not be his favourite but he likes me for sure. And I thank him every bit for this joy.

Anyway…moving on…there were times when I thought I had lost it all and was back to square one but then, I was determined and as the wise ones have said, love can be the greatest motivation. So it indeed was. She is my strength and the strongest support I have. She is the biggest joy I have in life. Touchwood again. Anything for her.

Laughter, stupid jokes and anecdotes, tears, happiness…we shared a little of everything as friends but I wanted more. I wanted to belong to this girl and wanted her to belong to me. I wanted to tell her what that little princess meant to me. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. But she did want a relationship then. So that was that. Conversations gained momentum and so did my emotions.

Then came the 20th of September. I spoke to her and then started for home. She had told me that she would think and give me her decision by the end of that. I was in a hurry to reach home. So I zoomed past trucks, trailers, cars and other bikes. And reached home. There was no network on my phone. Christ!! I searched for the network and as soon as I got off my bike I had a message coming in from my little angel. It was a one line message which held the key to the greatest joy I have ever known. That one line said much more than an entire page. It said everything I wanted to hear. I couldn’t believe my eyes so I pinched myself and slapped myself real hard to ensure that I wasn’t in dreamland. I wasn’t! Yippppeeeeeeeeeeeee…
I didn’t know what to do. I felt like screaming out to the world. I wanted to jump…scream…howl…shout…run…jump again…dance (and I did do a little jig)…
That one word meant more to me than anything else ever has meant. Just want to say that I love her with every bit of the emotion I can muster and I hope this stays happy and smiling always. I want to grow old with her and walk the roads of life holding her hand forever...

Pray for US. Please. Thanks!
And Amen…

Adios.

Fear…

2007-09-18T05:12:00.000+09:00

(for you little t)

It is an emotion which is common to all living species on the face of this wonderful planet. The strong, the weak, the clever, the dimwits, the successful, the unsuccessful, the glorious and the unsung…it has spared none from its influence. No matter how much one denies the existence of fear in oneself, deep down within everyone somewhere it does exist. I have it too!

For that matter Alexander, Napoleon, Hercules, Achilles or any other brave man ever alive in this world has known fear at some point of time in life for sure. So have I. It is of different kinds depending on the factors it arises from. There is the fear of death which results from the love of life, the fear of sorrow which can trace its roots to the craving for joy and various other innumerable forms. One of the most fearsome is the fear of loss. That loss may be materialistic or otherwise but a loss nevertheless. Though, if it is materialistic, it is comparatively easier to overcome than if it is otherwise.

So this piece is about the fear of loss. In one’s life, there are people. Among them are some who merely exist and a few who hold massive significance. I fear losing those of the latter kind because the former keep making their entries and exists and it really does not matter. But losing the ones who are important leaves behind a void which is at the risk of never being filled. The very thought is frightening. But that again is the bare truth of life. As for me, this bare truth has had a longer presence in my life than needed or asked for. I will not be lying that this fear has made me aware of its existence time and again. Now, once again, it is raising its ugly head. I do not know what to do.

Like sand slipping out of the gaps between the fingers, I can feel this slipping out of my hand. And all I can do is sit and watch like a mute spectator. Watch my life slipping away. It feels like I have been condemned to this by some higher power that a certain grudge against me. When people say that “where there is a will, there is a way”, I want to tell them to stop lying. Their senseless philosophy does not help because sometimes will is not something one can exercise. Especially when the power of making decisions lies with someone else. That is why I fear the emotional bond. Lady luck seems to be perennially upset with me for some reason known only to her. She walks into my life every single time assuring me of long term commitments and then deserts me and flies away to distant lands like a migratory bird. And she does not go alone. With her, she takes everything that is dear to me and that I hold closest to my heart and mind. Today again…it is one such similar occasion.

It is one thing not to know a joy at all but to know it and then lose it is extremely painful. It is true that what one does not know can not hurt one but after the knowledge of that joy, the pain increases exponentially. But still the smiles and grins remain on the face for the very reason that its absence may be noted by people who are very close. And I am saying this with reference to a particular incident so if you’re not associated with it, I will not be surprised to know that you can not make sense of whatever has been written or whatever is going to be written in this piece later. I do not blame you because if the right person reads it then that person will be able to derive sense out of this I am sure. What is precise communication if not the art of conveying a point to the intended recipient while keeping the other wondering?

I hate losing to mismatched competition. I mean isn’t it unfair to put level THREE against level ZERO…or maybe ONE?? I say it is. You may differ but I really do not care because my emotions and my life are on the line. Not yours.
I guess it is that point in life when I should just accept the reality that good things are short lived and I should stay away from them because of the impending pain. Good things never last in my case and I should be used to it by now but the fighter in me refuses to give up and accept defeat. He refuses to bow down till it delivers the fatal blow to the adversary. But the question here is…who is the adversary after all? Because level THREE can never be an adversary to me…I am just level ZERO! And if it is so then it shall not be a contest at all!
I shall lose and the fear of loss will humiliate me yet again…
If I have hated anything in my life then it is this fear because it has always won and proved itself right. Question is…why me? What have I done to offend life so much? I can not recall an answer.
Can you please answer this on my behalf? Please? Because I need to go now before I get carried away and the fear has a hearty laugh on my behalf. I leave with the hope that the fighter in me wins.

Adios.

Little T and Me...

2007-09-14T20:32:00.000+09:00

Ok. Ground rules before you start reading this piece.
• You will not ask me for any names because I shall not give them to you.
• If you do have any comments to give, then please refrain because it is exclusively for her and she can choose to post her comments here on tell me over the phone. Just her.

Ok then…now I proceed with it…

The year was 2005 and I was a part of a team which had organized a seminar. She was there and that was the first time I met her. First impression: nice girl and really sweet! We started speaking on the phone and met a couple of times. She was seeing someone and so was I. So friendship was what it was. Then, because of the changes in the phone numbers, we lost touch. Regained it again after a couple of months and then lost it again. Suddenly, one day while browsing through a social networking website, sometime in September last year, something within me made me look for her. A guess what? She was there! So conversations and contact resumed and since then it has been pretty constant.

I had started working in the meanwhile and last April, she came down to the city for a brief holiday. We met for a couple of times. To be precise, three times. I realized she was beautiful. And different from most of the women I had come across. Soft, sensitive, childish, playful, mature, sensible, independent, lovable, genuine and innocent. She was untouched by the grime around. Fresh…clean and with eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was adorable.

I could feel myself get drawn to her but I could say nothing for more reasons than one. So I didn’t. But as luck would have it, today the situation is this: she is single, I have asked her out and she is unsure of accepting it. A little scared maybe and maybe she can’t muster the courage to take a chance and be hurt again. But it is this very tenderness of hers which makes her so adorable and endearing. I have called her the little princess, the angel and a host of other names but plainly put…she is amazing.

Now, it is 2007. Things with her feel perfect. They seem just right and she’s my little lucky mascot. When someone praises her, I feel elated. Like someone has said it to me and when she is crying…I feel like flying down to her to just hold her and tell her I will be there for her forever.

I want to be there for her all the time and prevent any occasion that makes a single tear drop from her eyes. She has beautiful eyes. It is now that I realize that I had been living an incomplete life all this while and her presence in it will make it so complete. So long as I have her in my life…I can stand and face anything because she is my biggest strength. I know her for what she is and she knows me for what I am and that I think makes things better because is cuts out the pretences. I have been craving to hear the magical sound of that one word…YES!

She has her reasons to delay her answer and I understand that completely but sometimes, in spite of realizing that the reason is logical, one feels a little impatient. That is the case here I guess. So little choice do I have other than wait. Which I will because compared to the entire lifetime, this wait seems really small.

I am waiting little T…I am waiting.

Adios.

Unspoken…

2007-09-05T21:37:00.000+09:00

(to people I have known since the cradle and will continue to presume I know till my last moment on the funeral pyre)

Last night I wanted to speak. Though I didn’t really get to speak, it kind of cleared the mist a little. It made me accept bare truths of life in their purest and most detestable forms.

It is surprising how even when a person has volumes to speak, finding a willing ear is difficult and even in case one finds an ear like that, all…or at least most of what one wants to say goes unsaid…
It is surprising how one feels absolutely speechless because one realizes that the ear that one presumes is a listening ear, is in fact an ear that is deaf. And hence it gives an illusion of being attentive. One goes on speaking endlessly until realization dawns and then…there is silence. Partly from the shock of the realization and partly from resigning to the fact that THAT is the blatant truth.

It is then that one understands that there are a few things that would probably be understood by just one person who is very similar to oneself. Finding that one person in the milling crowd is an extremely tough task because the world is an extremely populated place. And even the guarantee that one will find such a person is missing. It just leaves life a little more complicated than it had been moments ago. But who said life ever laid its claim to simplicity? Life is a complicated beast by nature and simplicity is just a farce to lure the prey. After the discovery of the fact that the listening ear is actually deaf, a few additional questions pop up instead of unearthing the answers to the already existing questions.

The answers to those questions again, one would rather not delve into because it may just give rise to a few more questions. Life becomes a vicious circle. The pile of questions and answers seem grossly mismatched with the questions clearly with an upper hand. I have come across countless ears that seem attentive but turn out to be deaf but the quest is on to find that one person with a genuinely attentive ear. Instead of losing hope with every lost battle, my fervor to find that one person increases manifold. The quest is renewed. Now I finally feel I have found that one attentive ear. But everyone has a private space which is never open to intrusion of any kind and in my anxiety to speak; I do not want to overstep that line. It is at moments like these that one seeks divine intervention to point out the opportune moment to start speaking. So I am praying.

Please join in my prayers…for my sake and yours so that you also find the right person, if you haven’t already and understand when that right moment arrives. I shall be obliged.

Adios.

Kolkata…

2007-09-05T19:00:00.000+09:00

On this planet which is covered seventy five percent by water, there is a piece of land by the banks of the Ganges which has, over time, grown into a bustling city.
Welcome to Kolkata. Welcome to the city of Joy.

Though I belong to that city in the true sense and can trace my ancestral routes to that city, I have never really stayed there for too long at a stretch. For that matter, I have never stayed for too long in any one city. I have been on the move ever since I remember, like a gypsy in the search of new abodes but strangely I have always had an abstract fascination to that city. It akin to the fascination that attraction that a child had to the moon shimmering in all its glory in the sky…though that moon has its own dark spots!

Every time I have been to that city, I have discovered something new. My latest discovery was a fairy. She is beautiful in the very sense of the word. But that is an entirely different topic and I shall now come back to the subject at hand.

Kolkata. This city has had its share of ups and downs. From the capital of the country during the colonial rule of Great Britain, it has now been reduced to the status of a city in shambles. Though, in its true sense, the city is growing in leaps and bounds but the image of this city lies tainted forever. Sad but true. It now has the stature of a city that is laid back and still basks in the glorious past. And this I am saying at the risk of attracting the ire of those who are in love with the city. I too, am somewhere in love with it but I guess the long period of separation has left me more susceptible to noticing the flaws.

Let me tell you about Kolkata today. It is a city like any other buzzing metropolitan with an active day and night life. On one hand is the metro rail which transports people at tremendous speed and on the other hand there is the tram which runs on rails laid out on the road and as a result is painfully slow. It is more like a reminder of the times when leisure was not such a precious commodity. On one hand are the gigantic buildings from the Victorian ages and on the other, there are towering skyscrapers. The air of the city is friendly and due to the ceaseless influx of people, it has developed a sense of acceptance to people of all races, casts and creeds. The weather is humid most of the year and though in the summers it isn’t very hot in terms of the temperature, the sweat can get to you. Winters however, are pleasant. Rains leave the city drenched in water, sand and sometimes…grime. But the city is beautiful nevertheless.

One distinctive trait of the city however is the food. It is amazing how inexpensive the food is! Remember, it is inexpensive but not cheap. Quality reigns supreme.
Infinite variety presents itself to the palate. The only hitch is that predominantly, the food is non vegetarian. So, for absolute carnivores like me, it is paradise. But for the ones who love animals it is a little difficult. Though, most dishes now have vegetarian avatars so survival doesn’t translate into a question mark.
There are restaurants on Park Street which are exorbitantly high priced and at the same time, food stalls and smaller eateries. The difference is the ambience. And coming to sweets, it is heaven for a person with a sweet tooth. The array available is mind boggling.
Specially the Roshogollas, Sandesh, sweetened curd and in the quick snacks, it is the Phhuchkas, Egg Rolls, Churmur and Jhaal Muri that stand apart.

Basically, in spite of the shortcomings, there are certain things that are nice about the city. So then, pay it a visit once when you want to go on a vacation. I guess you will like it!
See you there then.

Adios.

Consistency is the word…

2007-08-31T23:33:00.000+09:00

It was a pleasant surprise to know that people read what I write here. That gives me a hope that I can probably make a mark someday as a writer. But in every creative profession, there are accolades and there is criticism. And constructive criticism can indeed be beneficial to honing the skills.

One such reader came up to me today and said that though my pieces were interesting, one major factor which was lacking was consistency of thoughts and lines. Honest opinions are always welcome so I am grateful. Going by the feedback, let me now address the issue of consistency.

The human mind is a strange thing. It can go to unfathomable depths of imagination and then can spring back to being abhorrently shallow in a split second. That is how rapidly this amazing organ can fluctuate. Hence, to keep the mind focused and consistent is a Herculean task.

That is what it is all about, actually. Consistency is the name of the game. As we grow older, the level of consistency and the ability to focus increases up to a certain age and after it has reached the crescendo, the process of regression beings. Consistency is something that comes naturally to some while for the restless people like me, it is a laborious effort. But again, the profession that I am in demands this consistency because the readers’ thoughts are in a certain flow while reading and sudden drops and rises in levels of intensity might not really be a welcome experience.

My mind sometimes seems to me like a wild untamed beast which will resist any attempt to put a leash on it. And it is that very leash which forms a trademark for accomplished writers. Hence, it is not a matter of choice but compulsion. Besides, it lends a certain structure which keeps everything in line. The key is to curtail the fluctuation and weave the thoughts to form a fabric with no loose ends. Now that I know it, hope I can work on it. In the meanwhile, as I said, genuine and constructive suggestions are welcome.

Adios.

Dreams unlimited

2007-08-28T09:00:00.001+09:00

I just woke up with a start because I dreamt of my little t and that is the reason I am writing this right now.

I was just wondering…thinking about dreams. All of us dream. Some, while awake, some, while asleep and some…all the time. Nevertheless, we all dream. Unspoken emotions, unfulfilled desires, unaccomplished aspirations…they all form a part of our dreams. Some we forget we even saw, some we remember for a while and some (very few, though) we remember for a lifetime.

Then again, there are ones we choose to forget and try to ignore, lest they awaken some forbidden desires. Sweet dreams and nightmares form a part of our lives from the cradle to the grave. Mostly, the incidents in the day inspire the dreams that we see while asleep. Then again, there are in the dreamland while they are wide awake! To add to the complications, people have also mastered the art of interpreting the meaning of dreams. How true or close are the interpretations, nobody knows. But people claim that every dream has a meaning. Now…little t once told me that she had dreamt of a cockroach chasing her through unknown alleys and roads. Will someone explain to me what on earth was that supposed to mean?? I too have had innumerable dreams which will need some whacko psyched out specimen of the species homo-sapiens to decipher!

The human mind is an eccentric genius in itself. It has a ceaseless capacity to imagine and generate alternate realities. And even more surprising is the capacity of the subconscious mind to maneuver and manipulate the conscious mind. Like right now…
I mean whatever I have written in this piece so far and whatever is about to be written might sound like absolute gibberish to anyone who is interested enough in reading this but right now…honestly…I am half asleep. So if you find any spelling errors, you’re conveniently supposed to ignore it and read on. Ok? Good.
I mean, what else do you expect at 5 in the freaking morning?!

People smile while dreaming, they shriek and some of them even talk, (Christ! It reminds me of my ex roommate who spoke incoherent trash more while asleep than when he was wide awake!) while to the world, they are blissfully asleep. Now, THAT is eerie. And someone told me ghosts are strange! Yeah…right!

Dreams float like the cottony clouds in the mind space till they either rain or they move on. Countless songs of various genres have been inspired completely by dreams!

Ok…I will have to end this piece here…
Thank you for having read this fully. Now, I am feeling sleepy so I shall tell you more when I am a little more awake than I am right now. Meanwhile, may you have sweet dreams. Amen.

Adios.

Love spells

2007-08-26T07:09:00.000+09:00

(To little t, who makes a lot of difference.)

Take a red rose. Wrap in with a green cotton cloth and take the name of the person you love fifty times. Then put this wrapped up rose under your pillow and keep it there for a fortnight. The person you love will come into your life.

Take a maple leaf (how on earth will I find a maple leaf in this country?!), write the name of the person you love on it and set it on fire. Chant the name of the person love all the while. Rub the ash over his/her photograph. Your love life will get rolling.

Just a couple of examples of such abundant “love spells” one may find on the internet and in books which are readily available. How much do they work? That’s a question I guess most of us will not have an answer to. I mean, logically, it seems so funny that in the 21st century, people still believe in love spells…but then again…when has anyone in love ever believed in logic in the first place?!

Though, one thing is certain…it definitely fuels a person’s dream. That’s a reason why I guess people still try it. I mean…think of it…if I know that I am in love and the person I am in love with, doesn’t want to have any romance in her life, then there I sweet nothing I can do about it besides tell her, do things to prove it and wait! But these love spells pretend to give me the power to get into her mind for a while and change her perception about life, about love and most importantly…about us! By tickling one’s imagination, it gives one an illusion that one can get into the mind of the person he/she loves and be a turbine to propel his/her emotions towards oneself. In spite of all skepticism about its effectiveness, somewhere one wants to believe it works. Because that person means so much that one is ready to do anything to make it work. I have experienced it myself about little t (no, I shall not tell you who little t is because she will understand it when she reads this!).

But at the end one realizes it is crazy. Yes, that is what it is in a nutshell. Crazy. They don’t work. These spells make business by selling hope. That’s what they do. Life survives on hope and so does this. These spells are ubiquitous and nobody wants to believe the fact that they are useless because of hope. Isn’t it strange how we sometimes have faith in such things in spite of all the science around us?! Hmmm…

And if anybody can give me one freaking spell that works then I shall be grateful to the person eternally. C’mon…show me it works. And if you can’t then shut up and sit down (well…you can stand too!). All that’s there are you, your loved one and your capacity to win that person over. Period. Life is no super human story or fairy tale where things happen by themselves. One has to make them happen. What do you say? Though, I secretly (now the secret is open, though) I hope that there is at least one spell that works for Heaven’s sake!

With that hope…now I end because I have to dream for her now. Sorry…dream time is exclusively for her. No visitors allowed. Meanwhile, go see if you discover any spell that works.

Sheesh…some outburst this was! Sometimes, emotions just force themselves out in words. Sorry if it wasn’t interesting. It wasn’t meant to be. I will try making it more interesting to read next time because right now I am writing it for myself. All the best with the hunt though.
See you later everyone (who’s reading this)!

Adios.

White lies and half truths

2007-08-24T00:22:00.000+09:00

In the world, there are three kinds of facts. The usual black, white and grey.

Let me start with the first one. It is called the truth and it dwells on the extreme white end of the spectrum. It is all about presenting facts without any changes. Though the easiest to remember, sometimes it gets a little drab because it does not add any spice to life. And hence, very few people across the world stick to it.

Then again, on the other end of the spectrum, the black end, are lies. Complete fabrications coming to play. Lying (like most other things which are black) is interesting because it gives an outlet to fragments of creativity which inhabit your system. But as wise people will tell you, it is not a good habit to lie because it destroys your ability to be truthful.

Somewhere between these two extremes, in the grey area, lies what we call “white lies” or “half truth”. When on one hand complete truth sounds angelic and divine and outright lies sound devilish and bad, “white lies” sound human. That is one reason I guess we humans relate to it so effortlessly. Now, the question is what on earth are “white lies”?
It is the perfect genetic hybrid between truth and a lie. It is fascinating, interesting and creative and gets much closer to complete truth than a lie ever can! It is an art. An art that reaches perfection only with constant practice. Just “white lies” are different and “white lies” with finesse is a totally different ball game. They are fondly referred to as HALF TRUTH. That name sounds so much nicer and suddenly adds a degree of credibility and legitimacy to it. But essentially, they are both the same!

For the benefit of the people who are not really able to comprehend what I am rambling on about, let me give you an example…
If my mom calls me at one in the night and asks me if I am home, I may say yes. But that essentially does not mean I am at my place! I may even be at my friend’s place…which is also someone's home! See?? THAT is the difference. And that statement was an example. It is NOT to be taken literally.

The best part is…one always can come up with a logical defence for “white lies”! It is foolproof!
Over the years, I have known many people who excel at the art of getting away with “white lies”. Trust me, they are masters of this fine art. Though I have to agree, that sometimes, it is essential. Coming to think of it, I as an individual do not really have much choice. I have to be fluent with this art because it is my bread and butter (and jam, sausages, coffee and biscuits too!). I mean, if I do not convince the consumers then I will starve. That maybe another reason why I am defending “white lies” so much. Another reason is that this particular brand of lies adds to a person’s creativity. It titillates the mind and helps one’s imagination expand manifold.

Whatever written and read, I guess it is the best to be at the middle of the spectrum instead of either ends because being in the grey area ensures that there is a buffer on both sides. All of you who have successfully tried your hand at this art will agree with me in all probability. In retrospect, I think “white lies” have sometimes really helped me get away by the skin of my teeth!
And partly, as I just said a while ago, it is professional.

Go on…indulge. But do so carefully lest you step on the wrong side of the line. Walk the line if you wish to but be cautious so you do not topple!

Adios.

linguistic limitations...

2007-08-22T01:49:00.000+09:00

(With due credits to my Little T for being my ubiquitous inspiration. Love you baby!)

It is said that humans in the Stone Age faced difficulties expressing themselves because their ability to communicate was limited by the absence of languages!
And then they gave up their Bohemian life to settle down. Simple inventions simplified life so that more time to think and develop the languages that we know today. Well…some languages did have a short lived shelf life…but the others survived and prospered.

Then the languages adapted themselves to the surroundings and dialects developed. Some dialects found a script and some didn’t. And even today, there are languages that do have a written form! Strange! So people who speak that language will never have to face the problem of illiteracy. That sounds good and bright…doesn’t it?

And now I come to the trillion dollar question. Yes…the trillion dollar question (coming to think of it, that’s a LOT of money!). Have languages really enabled us to overcome our problems of communicating? The answer, as I see it, is an all encompassing NO! It hasn’t definitely added to the handicap…but it hasn’t been of much help either. Though, ironically enough, I am using one of those very languages to write this piece. But that is not what I am talking about. Giving words to emotions and thoughts is not what I am referring to. What I mean to say is…languages flatten our thoughts and emotions to a large extent.

Ok, let me explain. Now…there is this little princess whom I love a lot. When I do tell her that I love her, I can say…maybe…”I love you”…or…”I love you a lot”…or (getting in a little more variation within the limitations of language)…”I really love you”. But that’s more or less it! I mean, I can’t really express the intensity of what I feel for her. And the language doesn’t even go deep enough. HOW MUCH is a factor that a language conveniently ignores. I will not be surprised if even now I am unable to express the intensity of what I am writing. In spite of being a copywriter…I can’t really overcome the flaws which exist in a language’s foundation, isn’t it?

It would have such a utopian world if telepathy was a regular phenomenon. We would have saved so much time…not trying to explain the inexplicable. Things would just have been understood! Like two minds communicating between themselves without the presence of any language to forma hindrance. Only wish…wish it would have been like that. Life would have been even simpler.

But then again…I guess a little complication adds that extra spice to life, isn’t it? So though…there are certain problems that a language gives rise to…but then there are nice and sweet things like poetry which would have been non existent without languages. What do you say?

Anyway, it is late and I am hungry. So I will leave you with this little food for thought while go and grab a bite to eat!

Adios.

hmmm...

2007-08-12T00:52:00.000+09:00

It’s strange. I mean the human race in general. And since I happen to be a part of the same race, I guess I am a little strange too.

Like for example, it is said that one should make hay when the Sun shines but if you actually do that then you are branded an opportunist! And then again…there is so much talk of professionalism in this world but coming to think of it, it is all very much personal at the end of the day. Everything in this whole wide world is based on rapport.
Good personal relations in this world ensure good work too!

To sort out all this confusion in life, I had a chat with God. I was sitting alone in my room when out of the blue He dropped by. It was a little eerie at first. But then we got talking. For him, surprisingly, everything was really simple. But I being a mere mortal of course couldn’t understand His deeper plans! Seemed like a mist to me.

So he sat down to explain the things to me. But even his explanation was at a plane that couldn’t really reach…I could just aspire to. We spoke for a long time. A real long time. He put his viewpoint forward and I put mine in front of him. Apparently, even He has appointments with people. The thing is that He decides whom to meet and when and where. Oh…and He loves coffee by the way!

With that the conversation moved on and somewhere in the middle, I fell asleep. When I woke up He wasn’t around. So I am now waiting for the day when He pays me a visit again!

So till then…

Adios.

crazy caffeine

2007-08-08T20:04:00.000+09:00

It’s brown. It’s strong. It’s creamy. And interesting company and stimulating conversation increases its potency! Million dollar question is…what on the beautiful earth (currently suffering from global warming and pollution) am I talking about? To the ones who have guessed…congratulations. To the ones who haven’t…I will just tell you. I am talking of coffee! Bitter…brown…brilliant…beverage…that’s coffee for you.

I am supposed to work on a campaign for Coffee Board in India. And all the research has driven me over the top. Even my little princess is busy writing an article so I don’t want to disturb her. So meanwhile…I shall feast upon your grey cells by telling you about coffee. And give you food for thought in return. So sit down, relax and read on about coffee with a cup of coffee in your hand!

There is probably no person on this planet who has never tasted coffee in his/her life. If there is…then he/she has a really sad life. It’s probably the most sensuous beverage in the world. Conversations gain momentum over cups of coffee. Acquaintances are made of steaming hot mugs of espressos or creamy glasses of cold coffee!

There have been various descriptions of this amazing beverage…and here is one of the oldest ever recorded!
In 1583, Leonhard Rauwolf, a German physician, after returning from a ten-year trip to the Near East, gave this description of coffee:

“A beverage as black as ink, useful against numerous illnesses, particularly those of the stomach. Its consumers take it in the morning, quite frankly, in a porcelain cup that is passed around and from which each one drinks a cupful. It is composed of water and the fruit from a bush called bunnu.”

Today, coffee has a global presence. And it is surprising that this universal drink had its earliest roots in the small little country that the world calls Ethiopia! That too, as early as the 9th century!

Someone just walked in with a cup full of coffee from the vending machine. I don’t really like the coffee actually because I like it strong and the coffee from the vending machines is really bland.

In some ways, coffee is like women. Rich in color, intoxicating, beautiful, irresistible and occasionally…bitter. And since I like….actually…respect women with a strong mind, hence I like strong coffee! Now, where did such a sensuous name originate from? Good question. It came about from the Italian word caffé, which in turn was borrowed from the Ottoman Turkish word kavah.

Coffee also comes in handy when a guy is unsure about how to ask a girl out. “Can we go have a cup of coffee?” is a question that makes things sound so much simpler! Coffee has a certain, inexplicable romance attached to it. A rainy afternoon, a hot cup of coffee, dim lights and a book…sounds perfect! Ideas have emerged over cups of coffee. Rebellions have been planned! And the emergence of coffee houses all across the country had given the intelligentsia to gather at one place and raise a storm in a tea…err…coffee cup! So many songs have been dedicated to this wonderful drink! Besides…coffee has been used in ice creams, chocolates, cocktails and God alone knows what else. The usage is not limited to edible recipes only…it is also used to cut through the olfactory nerves when one is trying out perfumes because coffee can cut through smell.

And coffee has good and bad effects on health too! The negative effects are primarily due to Caffeine and the positive ones (I don't know what causes them, though) are that it reduces the risk of Parkinson's, Alzheimer's and a whole lot of other diseases!

Sheesh! i have actually been sermonising!
In short…coffee has a lot to be written about and that just reminds me…I have to head back to work. I hope you have finished you cup of coffee and I have chewed thoroughly on you brains. If I haven’t, do let me know because I haven’t then I shall be back to chew a little more on what’s remaining of you brain. Right now, I have to rush…my coffee awaits me!

Adios.

The case of the lost identity

2007-08-08T02:33:00.000+09:00

(This story is a work of fiction but may bear resemblance to people living and dead.)

He walked into his office groggily at 11 in the morning. Being half dazed wasn’t really an exceptional thing considering sleep was a scarce commodity and the reasons for that were innumerable. His chair, as usual was missing. Grabbing a chair from the next workstation, he sat down. He put on the button on his comp and sat staring blankly at the screen.

At 24, if someone asked him what he wanted from life, he probably wouldn’t have had an answer. Theoretically, he could see it all sorted out. Finances, romance, career, life and everything else that mattered. The job was good and so was the money. There was an angel in life…though she hadn’t quite become his girl…but he was working on it. And he was hopeful. But in reality…it was all one big scattered jigsaw puzzle. One labyrinth he couldn’t find the way out of. Strange that a person who could visualize life so clearly, couldn’t reach the destination!

His questions to life seemed to disappear somewhere in the fathomless depths of the ocean. Anyway, giving in to reality that stared him in the face…he sat down to work. Work…now THAT was an interesting term, considering that was pretty much what he had in life. Home. Work. Work. Home.

And this hustle bustle of life, which had gradually given way to monotony, he had lost something very dear to him. Something essential. His identity. Who was he? The question gave way to a deathly silence. He wracked his brains and thought hard but the deafening silence continued its advance on the noise. Sitting there in that office, he was experiencing Brownian movement. Nobody there could even remotely estimate what was going on within him. He was restless.

He thought of the past. He thought of the bright spots that seemed to provide the only light which gave him the strength to fight. Sitting there, he thought if he had always been so clueless about life. The answer, definitely, was NO. Then where had he lost his way? And when? He couldn’t seem to remember.

Today, when identity has been converted into a commodity, he did not possess it. On one hand, it was good because he could disappear into the lanes of anonymity when he was tired of the rat race. He was untraceable. But sometimes…he wanted to be discovered. He wanted to be known by people. Life had put him into a fix. And he was the one who had to find the way out because otherwise he would undergo slow suffocation. He could already feel the pain. Then suddenly…he saw that face. His little angel. He loved her. He adored her. He wanted to share his life with her. But alas! Words sometimes, fell too short to tell her how much she meant. He stared at her photograph…lost in her thoughts. Her voice rang in his ears like the chirping of birds on a spring morning.

Sitting there, he made a decision. He was called indecisive but this time, he knew he would never decide on anything more firmly than this. He decided to set out on the quest to discover his identity. Not his name or what the world thought of him but to find out who he actually was. He asked his princess to walk with him. The journey will be tough without her support. He knew he could take care of her.

Did she walk holding his hand on the paved and unpaved lanes of life? I do not know. But he is already on the quest and I haven’t heard from the princess in a while. I…happen to be an optimist. Rest is open to interpretation…
If you find his identity…call him on 1800 1600 1600

And if you don’t…then he will find it himself. And he will come back.

Adios.

The autobiography of a dust bin...

2007-08-03T23:38:00.000+09:00

First…for those of you who understand Hindi: “Mujhe Naaz pe naaz hai”
For those of you who don’t understand the language…well…ask someone to translate it for you! I wonder what I would have done if my little angel wasn’t around! She is the source of constant inspiration and the brains behind these crazy pieces…I just punch it out in the language called English!! Thank you darling :)

Ok, now moving on with the piece. I shall now hand the keyboard over to the Dust Bin, who is very keen on telling you his story…

Hi. I am a Dust Bin. You may have come across me at your home, on the road and various other mentionable and unmentionable places. I have various forms…I can look like a penguin, an aluminum trash can, a plastic bucket and a whole lot of other things.

Now, people put me in a corner and just forget me unless they have some trash. Basically, they give me crap all the time! Though…technically, I am a DUST BIN so I am supposed to collect only DUST but people stuff me with all kinds of absolute garbage!

To top it off, they don’t clean me up! And by the end of the day I am so stuffed that I can’t really eat any more! That excessive garbage accumulation also forces me to take on the role of a home to different living beings like rats, mice, dogs and many people that I will rather not mention! But yeah, I kind of like the variety because after all, who doesn’t want some variation in their diet?? That’s what one may call a balanced diet.

If your are wondering about what I am getting at, then stop wondering because I am not getting anywhere. I am a DUST BIN, remember…so I get crap and I TALK rubbish! Well, don’t blame me for ! have you ever figured what would have happened if I did not exist in the world? Where would all the garbage have gone? But not that now people don’t have it going all over the place like the roads, pavements and various other places.

This was about in general as a dust bin. Now, about my personal life. Have had a pretty strange one. I am made out of an old carton meant for more worthy things in its lifetime but for some reason people thought I would suit this job profile better…and it was anyway a brighter option considering that the other was being spread out and used as a doormat! So I don’t really remember when I was born but I have been meticulously keeping this room clean for the past six months. And though I don’t have any exercise the whole day, considering I don’t have legs to move around, thankfully I do not put on any weight because of my super fast metabolism, I guess.

I remember one day when this kid had thrown a half eaten pepperoni pizza in my mouth and it was absolutely yum. In fact, I always wait for those big parties that my employers throw once in a while because I get to eat brilliant food for a change.
Oh…and my height is two feet and the complexion is wheatish. Religion…ummm…well I am not too particular about that because I collect garbage anyway!
Recently, I had a massive crush on this rag-picker who used to empty my contents in the morning because she was the only one in the whole wide world who didn’t give me garbage. Instead, she took it from me. One gorgeous girl she was! Shy that I am, I could never express how much I loved her…and besides, I was a mere dust bin. I remember waiting for her to arrive in the morning, like the warm rays of sunlight after a cold, dark night. But then, I am a dust bin and not destined to be happy so one morning I heard her mushy talk with the man servant upstairs and before I could realize, they got romantically involved and got married! Now they work at the same house and she lives with the employers’ family upstairs. It hurts to know that she is someone else’s girl now! Bhoo hoo hoo…(oops! I can’t cry because that makes the cardboard rot and wither).

I like the dog next door and the female dog (just trying to be politically correct) at my home too! They keep sniffing at me and give me a little peck on the cheek once in a while (though, with the kind of shape I have, it’s a little difficult to figure out where my cheeks really are)…just like they do to the humans! They are getting married next month and I overheard both the families plan to give me a promotion. A dust bin getting a promotion? Doesn’t make sense, right? Well…this is how. I generally collect only dry garbage. So I am pretty clean. And both the families have run out of boxes. The few that ARE remaining are too small. So I shall be cleaned, given a new cover and be upgraded to be the home for the newly married couple and the cradle for their beautiful little babies! Whoa! What bliss. Life IS good indeed sometimes. And did I mention that there is a new rag picker and she is even more sweet! So well, life is, I guess…looking up finally.

Anyway…my job beckons and besides, I have twisted my cardboard fingers…typing. So you all pray for me while go and take some more crap. And now it’s over to this human sitting beside me.

Hey guys…it’s me…Shom…back again. Well, Dustin (that’s what I have christened the dust bin and I wonder what Hoffman will have to say to that) has gone back to work and I am too bored to write. Have a headache. So I am off and I shall think of something and write the next entry myself. Take care, eat drink and make merry till then.

Adios.

Feelin' BLUE

2007-08-01T01:46:00.001+09:00

Yesterday was a Monday. I was wearing blue. So what, you may ask. You don’t get it…do you? It was the symbolic representation of Monday morning blues. Strangely enough, quite a few other people were also wearing blue! And that’s what finally kicked off this piece. But the idea came from a beautiful angel I know.

After having read my piece on apples (if you haven’t read it yet, then just scroll down…it’s right there)…my special friend…yeah the same one who reminded me of the “apple of the eye” phrase…had given me the idea of writing a piece on blue. Without her suggestion, this piece wouldn’t have come into existence. Thank you honey…love you for this.

Anyway…moving on with the actual topic without any further diversion…I sometimes wonder why the color blue is treated so unfairly! I mean, just imagine, the unwillingness to go to the office on the groggy Monday mornings is called Monday morning BLUES (that too, in plural!). Why can’t it be called the Monday morning pinks…or Monday morning REDS (which in fact makes more sense because red is also the color associated with anger, stop, etc. and it suits the mood of the Monday mornings more!)

And then again…it is said that a person is beaten black and BLUE. I am sure the person who coined the term was color blind…because it is NOT blue, in fact it is a dark purple. I have seen that on plenty of faces! But that I guess is a convention that this language has been following for a little too long.

Now, why is feeling BLUE considered to be a negative expression? I mean, if blue is my favourite color then I may feel blue when I am the HAPPIEST! See? But since I am bound by the conventions of language again, I have to feel blue ONLY when I am sad. THAT in fact is sad.

And blue also happens to be the color of carnal desires…and trust me…Viagra has used the properties of the color to the maximum. Now, why can’t spirituality or maybe divinity be represented by blue? Strange!

Strangely, the royalty gladly attached themselves to this color, calling themselves BLUE blood. Now, will someone please come and show me what BLUE BLOOD looks like? I have just seen RED (blood with hemoglobin) and WHITE (blood sans hemoglobin) versions. Coming to think of it…BLUE might not really be the color I want, running through my veins, irrespective of how much I love that color!

Though, the saving grace is the fact that there still are a few expressions which are a little neutral…like “out of the BLUE”…which may also refer to a pleasant surprise! And “once in a BLUE moon” which again would have sounded strange if it was “once in a RED moon or GREEN moon”. Sounds jarring to the ears, doesn’t it? And...I guess someone, at some point of time, had felt like the way I am feeling right now and had hence created the expression "BLUE EYED"...which probably is the only positive connotation attached to the color. But...I don't really mind hazel, black or brown eyes either! In fact, my little angelic friend, who gave me the idea of this piece has simply awesome eyes! And they are not blue!! See?

But honestly…the color deserves a little more respect considering half the nations in this world feel blue…because blue is the color used for 50% of the flags of countries across the world! The two other most popular colors are red and white which appear on 74% and 71% of the flags respectively!

Anyway, I won’t stretch this piece to an extent that you turn blue in the face because of lack of oxygen in your respiratory track. So I shall take your leave now.

Adios.

hey...princess...

2007-07-25T23:02:00.000+09:00

That was the day
When lady luck smiled at me…
That was the day…
I befriended a princess!

With dreamy eyes
That spoke volumes…
And the contagious laughter
Like a gurgling brook!

As the wheel of time…
Span along…I discovered
A fascination in her…
But I was no knight…I wasn’t…

In that stunning angel…
I found a little girl…
One that needed
To be cradled…valued…

Sitting by the pond…
Like a little boy
On this starry night…
I look at the moon…

The moon…as bright…
As the princess herself
and when I looked at the moon
it was her face that I sought!

The moon reflects brightly…
On the surface of water
And I silently wish…
That the moon drops into my arms!

A for an apple

2007-07-15T00:33:00.000+09:00

I bought apples last night. Not many…just six…but they were insanely expensive. That made me wonder. Why on earth are apples so freaking expensive (well I haven’t really had the chance to check out the prices on Mars….Jupiter and the other planets of the solar system so far)?!

And I guess I have an answer…and a surprising one at that! First…if it wasn’t for a damned apple and if Mr. Adam and Miss. (or was it Mrs.?) Eve weren’t so hungry…we wouldn’t have had to live on the earth in the first place! Coming to think of it…Heaven would have been a pretty nice place to live in…what say??
So that, I guess, is reason number one. Now that makes me wonder a little more…since my mind refuses to sit still on a wonderful Saturday evening…why…why do all the fruits in the west have names ending with either ‘apple’ or ‘berry’? PineAPPLE…Custard APPLE…APPLE(I mean only apple)…Green APPLE…etc.
The rest are berries. StrawBERRY…RaspBERRY..etc.
I guess the elite ones are the ones with ‘apple’ attached to them.

Anyway…coming to the second reason. The alphabet starts with an apple! A for Apple…now…who doesn’t remember that? Christ! We would all have been illiterate if it wasn’t for apples!! This is crazy! An apple to determine the foundation of our education? Honestly…trusting something round, with a little stem and seeds, is a little bizarre when it comes to education. Anyway, the wise ones probably thought it was a brilliant idea and so it’s there.

And the third reason is even stranger! Apples have been known to keep doctors away. Remember? An apple a day keeps the doctor away…and needless to say…saves you a lot of money. So a fruit so useful can deserve to be a little pricey…err…expensive. But, I have never figured how a fruit that has a lot of vitamin C and water be enough to keep the doctor away?! Wouldn’t onions and garlic have been a better option? They would keep everyone away! See the logic? Simpler…surer and cheaper!!!

Oh…and fairy tales…the fruit has actively participated in fairy tales. Like Snow White for example was given a poisoned apple by her step mother! That’s cruel! Very cruel. But then the apple had nothing to do with it. The poor chap was cut up before that. That’s SAD.

Then again…imagine what Sir Issac Newton would have done if that apple didn’t fall on his head! Plonk…and viola…gravity was discovered! So many scientific inventions and discoveries would have never happened! Scary to think, isn’t it?

A very special friend of mine...just reminded me of the expression "Apple of one's eye"...and I can't thank her enough for that. Thank you darling. Anyway...continuing with what I was saying, I wonder why it's APPLE again...and not grape or plum or any other fruit because if the pupil is the size of an apple...I really wonder how monstrous the eye would be! Sheesh....! That's scary! But then...most of the adages in this wonderful language called English would sound absolutely absurd if they were to be taken literally.

So that’s that. A fruit with such historical importance can afford to be a little expensive. Though it makes it a little difficult for people to afford it! But that’s the deal. Take it or leave it!

Those are plenty of reasons for an apple to be expensive, isn’t it? So now I can…maybe…put my mind to rest. I hope…at least! Amen.

Till next time...

Adios.

Glancing at the writer's mind...

2007-07-14T17:08:00.000+09:00

Little droplets of rain fall on my face and run down…
I just stand and take in the smell of wet earth! As the drops cleanse the earth off its grime…
Rivulets of rain water flowing down the roads and sidewalks as children set off their paper boats on distant voyages. Bobbing in and out of the water, the boats struggle to keep afloat and the little kids run along to see whose boat sinks the last. The joy on their faces is a sight to behold.

Splashing water as puddles form on the road…filling up the shoes with the wet soil. The cars spraying everything as they speed along the road…the showers from the clouds above sway with the winds!

I stand there…paper in hand…pencil ready to strike…but I fumble for words.
Being a writer involves a lot of writing. But then, THAT is writing for someone else. It is like documenting somebody else’s thoughts…viewpoint…dreams. It is not me. I am paid for it and so my mind works overtime to ensure that output is as close to perfection as it can possibly be. But my heart…my heart suffocates. The flow of thoughts is stemmed to suit people’s requirement.

Sinking in this toxic concoction of stress and ambition, I thrash my limbs to stay afloat. Just like the little paper boats in the rivulets. I want to run like those joyful children into the lap of oblivion. But I feel handicapped. Like I am strapped to a wheelchair.

I want to write for myself. To put words on paper, which arise from my mind…independent of any external influence. I just want to continue writing till I run out of ink, paper and my hand goes numb with fatigue. I want to go on writing till my mind runs out of thoughts and falls silent. But that will not happen because the mind never rests till it reaches the grave. So running out of thoughts and things to write about is something that doesn’t really worry me.

Though I agree it maybe absolute pfaff for the people who read it but honestly, I am least bothered. As long as I like what I write…I will continue. But alas, life isn’t all that simple.

Oh! The kids are now sitting on the parapet of the terrace and munching away on roasted groundnuts. Interesting, isn’t it? The most elementary fact in life that eludes our senses is that happiness lies in simplicity. In the rat race to leave everyone behind and surge ahead…we sometimes lose focus of the simpler but greater joys in life. Strange but true.
That is why, I guess children are so happy till they grow up and face this world that can never look beyond a selfish purpose.

Trrring…trrring…

There…there rings my phone…forcing me out of my thoughts with which I had cocooned myself. And I join in the run again. The run to surge ahead in life and be successful…but a run that also ends up in an intangible…unknown feeling of regression! Kinda ironical…isn’t it?

i dream...

2007-06-30T16:06:00.000+09:00

Hmmm…office.

Central AC…work…traffic…and a day ending just the same way the previous one did. Sounds monotonous?? That’s because it IS!! So taking a while out I close my eyes and think…I dream…I am lost!

An expanse of green as far as the eye can see…the Sun playing hide and seek with the cloud from behind the hills…a little fog…smoke from the burning wood…simmering tea…wooden benches…or maybe…maybe one of those cement platforms to sit on…maybe a charpoy and a certain laziness in the air…

It has been a while since I have taken a vacation. A retreat, actually. A retreat to a little town…tranquil…peaceful…away from the maddening cities with no phones…mails and anything related to the monotony of life. Sounds good?? Indeed it does.
A little vacation…alone…or maybe two or three people at the maximum. Long walks through the woods where the faintest of the sounds are audible and every footstep causes the fallen leaves to rustle. With a little stick in the hand to combat all the shrubs that come in the way or maybe an occasional abandoned spider web. The fresh water of the mountain springs to drink and the shade of the trees to rest under. Siestas in the afternoons and steaming hot simple food. Life looks promising and bright amidst all this doesn’t it??

Nights bathed in moonlight and stars shining like a million bulbs. Starry skies are a rare sight in the cities…so it can be quite enchanting! And the little breeze. The fragrance of nature. The silence…the serenity! Now THAT is the beauty of life! Honestly…I wont even mind straw mattresses to sleep on! What say??

But as the wise ones have said…if wishes were horses, the beggars would ride. But remote retreats like these are essential to recharge one’s batteries and get ready to face the tunes of work again. And that’s exactly what I am headed for right now…so have to go.
But I will see you around again…with a few more dreams and a few glimpses of reality!

Adios.

Ideating mode...(Do Not Disturb Mode)

2007-05-23T22:45:00.000+09:00

I am back!
Yeah, I know it has been a while but then now I AM back. Now, here is news. I have switched jobs from the biggest events company to the biggest TV network. Lots of reasons that went in to changing places of work but then…let it be for now.

As of now I was thinking on making a little film (I mean really little because so far, I am a little guy) on the effects of global warming. I am planning to focus on the effect of heat on things. And for demonstrating the example, I was thinking of showing a little boy who’s concentrating the rays of the Sun on a sheet of paper, with a magnifying glass, on which the globe is drawn. The camera zooms in through the magnifying glass, close to the paper and smoke starts rising from the paper. After a second, the paper catches fire. And the globe which is drawn on it, burns. Then there is a voice over which says: “heat destroys everything indiscriminately. It will soon burn the entire globe if you don’t stop global warming now”. All the while that the voice over goes on the camera focuses steadily on the sheet of paper which continues burning till the entire globe turns into ashes. Then, text appears at random on screen which gives statistics of how many people have died in heat waves across the world in the past decade. Trust me, the stats are horrifying! 35000 people died in Europe in one year. Many more across the world!

Now…I am storming my head for a few more ideas. And I need to take your leave. So…till I put in my other ideas and tell you what’s happening, please please please do tell me if this one is good or not. And please be honest about it! Ok?

Adios.

The bear…and the Corbett Falls (refer previous post)

2007-05-03T19:51:00.000+09:00

And so the cub came and sat down. He (or she, maybe) seemed to like finger chips immensely so he happily nibbled on them in peace. Chomp chomp…
We sat…happy high and watching the cub have his fill of finger chips. Coming to think of it, the name of the dish sounds pretty strange. How can one have chips made out of FINGERS??? Anyway, creative insanity rules I guess. So it happened…till the mother actually came and picked him up like one would pick a child up from the neighbours. But then again, we WERE neighbours of sorts! Though, from a different species. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful because we drifted off to the land of sleepy oblivion sooner than we had expected. It was strange to see the difference in the nights of a city and a forest. At just 10, the night looked so dead and sleepy. But I loved the silence. We all did. Maybe because we crave for it in the lives that we lead in the city. Big city. Lots of facilities. Many advantages. No peace. No silence to sit back and think. For some reason, it reminded me of a poem that I had read long time ago, in school. Leisure, by W.H. Davies. Beautiful poem. The lines go as:
Very true, isn’t it?

WHAT is this life if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare?—
No time to stand beneath the boughs,And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth canEnrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare.

Anyway, the trip ended. We started on our way back. Back to the maddening crowd of the city. We planned to visit the Corbett Falls on the way back. So we took a detour. The falls were breathtaking. Not for the height but for the fact that it was nature in its unbridled glory! It was just 40 feet or so but the water was crystal clear and it was unbelievably cool for summers. People thronged the place so we decided to go to a higher altitude and sit. So we trekked up higher than the others and sat in the middle of the spring. Crystal clear water, beautiful setting and food. Life sometimes IS paradise. Then we came down, drenched and took a bath under the fall. Needless to say, most of it was filmed and hence we had to be clad in SOMETHING!! And oh! Did I tell you that one of the guys forgot a T-shirt given by his girlfriend at the top so two of us went to get that back. On the way down, we ended up bumping into a TV crew from Jain TV and they informed us that the way we took was dangerous and we shouldn’t do it. We mentioned a few unmentionable words and came back.

The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful because all dozing off. Then there was dinner. No particular incident I can think of!
Anyway…I am bored now so I will get going and there is a good chance that wouldn’t have liked the ending of this post. Oops! Sorry. Will make up for it in the next post! Ok?

Adios.

One WILD trip!!

2007-04-27T20:30:00.000+09:00

The journey began in the night. Summer was at its peak and Delhi was scorching hot. Starting in the day was simply unthinkable. The destination was Jim Corbett National Park. Amidst tigers, leopards and other wild animals…it was going to be a one memorable holiday.

Four guys. One driver. One car. 300 kilometers. Things looked promising. Among burning cigarettes and bottles of beer and pieces of chicken, conversation gained momentum. Initially it was funny and eventually took an emotional turn as everyone started to open up under the influence of the marvelous discovery of human beings – alcohol. The traffic of the city gave way to nearly deserted highways, save a few trucks which were plying at the wee hours of the night. But oblivious to the surroundings, the four boys in the huge car were lost in their own happy high world. The driver though, was unaffected by all the chaos around him and focused entirely on the road.

I am not aware exactly when conversation, coupled with music as intoxicating as the alcohol itself, gave way to the Tootsie Fairy of sleep! But sleep came deep and sound after really long. I guess the rat race of daily life had tired all of us beyond realization. I remember dreaming. Though, I have forgotten exactly what the dream was…
I opened my eyes of the dim light of the rising Sun. one by one, all of us woke up, rubbing our eyes to adjust to the light. Slowly, the Sun rose higher and got brighter like a ship sailing towards someone from the horizon. Soft clouds encircled the Sun and looked like the untamed waves of a fathomless ocean! It was a sight to behold! We were speeding at 80kph. Rural landscape greeted our eyes and I felt like a prisoner who had been let out on parole…though, the parole was a little wild!

Our destination was within sight. I felt like could already feel the presence of the Panthera tigris (that’s what biologists would call a tiger) in the air. We were to board at a guest house in the middle of the jungle. All of us were tingling with excitement.
We reached. For all of us, it was love at first sight with the wild. It was simply mesmerizing and something we city dwellers do not get to see too often! The fact that it was an all boys’ outing made it even more exciting.
We were shown to our rooms and we showered and changed as soon as our limbs would allow us. After breakfast, the plan was to go on a forest walk! Whoa! My spine still tingles when I think of it!

The walk was long and supposed to be tiring but we were so excited that we didn’t realy feel the tiredness. Looks like the nicotine failed to dampen our zest. We came across plenty of langurs, leopard paw marks and deer. One strange thing that we all noticed about our ‘guide’ was the fact that he added WILD before every animal to make us probably feel that it was very exquisite. So, a pig was renamed WILD pig, buffalo became WILD buffalo, rooster became WILD rooster, peacock turned into WILD peacock and so on. The list is endless…
We drank water from the springs and fountains and very honestly, it was the best tasting water I ever had. And sparkling clear and cold. Probably, even an entire crate of aerated drinks will not quench thirst like that plain, cold water of the mountains. We went to a temple in the mountains which was inhabited by just one very old priest. And there we rested for a while. As we took a look around the temple, one of us discovered a footprint. Nothing extraordinary about coming across a footprint but this one was a little different. It was barely 3 inches long. The toes were the size of a full grown man but the heel was the size of an infant’s! And even more eerie was the fact that it didn’t exist when we came to the temple and nobody (atleast nobody visible) has passed by…for all practical reasoning we urban people might give, it had appeared out of thin air! One of us took a picture of it but later, it was noticed that the photo had just disappeared! The video that we took during the trip was playing perfectly except for that one part which had the clip of the footprint! Strange, isn’t it?

A safari followed. Time was short and a lot was to be seen. It is surprising how much 200 rupees can fetch in this country! For us, it landed us bang in front of the tiger’s den in the restricted area. Two little cubs were playing outside and our open gypsy parked itself right next to them. Seeing tiger cubs, which looked like little fur balls with small teeth like thorns, we were a little surprised. We picked up one and I put it on my lap. It didn’t disturb him one bit and he kept playing with me and clawing with his tiny paws at my palm and wrists. Then it happened. A soft growl…then a full fledged angry roar! The mother was standing behind our gypsy. We froze. The cub jumped off my lap and went running to mommy! The angry tigress started circling our vehicle. Anger, arising from motherly instincts, flashed in her eyes. Another roar arose from the den. Probably the tiger. We had taken it for granted that we were destined to die in a forest reserve at the paws of a tigress. An interesting death in many ways but a death nevertheless! But something made her leap back to the den. I still shudder at the thought of what MIGHT HAVE happened!

We came back…with no videos and no pics because it wasn’t allowed. That was not a rule we could afford to break! We came back and while drinking at night, we were paid a little visit by a little bear cub who came and sat at the steps of our room and ate French fries and nuts. But that is another story altogether and for another time…
For now, the fun ends here. Tell me how you liked this narration.

Adios.

A rainy night.

2007-03-01T22:23:00.000+09:00

I can hear the clouds thunder as the rain lashes against the window panes. I listen…
Listen to the sounds of the silent walls that make up the room I am sitting in. I think…because... if I don’t then I will perish.

In one corner of the room, wilted flowers stand drooping in the vase. It’s not much of a vase, actually! Just an old…curvy bottle that contained alcohol at one time. I think about the wilted flowers. Despite the fact that they have lost the charm they once had, literally and figuratively, they look good because they help me get into the cocoon called The Past. A past that gave me a lot of things to cherish. Lots of things that made life a lot simpler than it is now.

School. That’s one chapter of a person’s past that is cherished forever. The sheer oblivion that one lies in. home work…well it’s a pain, no doubt but then…that is a different genre of fun in itself. Living on a shoestring budget and those little souvenirs bought from the tiny amounts of money called allowance. It surely was fun. On the other hand, now…I am earning money on my own…and money that’s considerably more. Much more…but there is an inexplicable void somewhere. No…it’s not the void that is caused by the lack of romance in life…neither is the void that is caused by lack of company or the so-called fun. That’s why I said that it’s kind of…inexplicable.

College life again has a different charm! The women watching and all the related craziness. But now…feels like the days are creeping towards me at a murderous pace. I continue to fight. Some battles have been won…some have been lost…but something tells me that the war is yet to some.

I lie on the bed and think. Think of ways to conquer. I strategize. I make plans. Looks like I am trying to beat myself at something. What…? I do not know. As the cigarette burns in my hand, I feel my life melting away in the smoke. Slow and steady melting. So very painfully slow. But now…I feel the sweet pain that I felt in school.

Today, I have converted my hobby into a profession. Into the means of earning my bread and butter…and jam...and sausages. I have forgotten to write for pleasure now. Now…I write…my hands spell words on the page according to people’s whims and fancies. People…who pay me to do that. Sometimes…I wonder if I still remember how to write from the heart or is it only my mind that’s doing all the work?! As more documents lie on one side of my bed…as I write this piece…I feel like giving it all up…and running. Just running till I am tired…worn out…broken…wilted. But I can’t! Alas! I just can not!

As I try to lose myself in my thoughts…I end this piece now. I shall come back…hopefully with more pleasant things to write about.

Adios.

The roller coaster called life

2007-02-27T03:11:00.000+09:00

After a long break I am back yet again to chew your brains! Sorry dear readers! Now, natural questions that will probably follow are questions like where was I all this while?! What have I been up to and stuff like that.
I said probably because not everyone essentially will ask me these questions right?!

Now…I graduated with a silver medal and landed a job. And a good one at that. So all those people who thought I could do nothing…yes I will enjoy seeing you eat your words. Munch munch…

Anyway…right now, I am in Delhi…the capital of India. Hehe…like you didn’t know! And it’s past 11 in the night and I am sitting here getting audio visuals made for a client of my company. The thought just occurred to me…why are these called audio visuals and not visual audios because technically, light travels faster than sound and hence visuals should come first! Yeah, I know…English is a pretty weird language and hence the terminology is a little weird. I now I am harping on the same strings that have been harped upon by plenty. But you see, it’s late at night and creativity isn’t really seeping through my brain right now! But at the same time, I don’t know when will I ever have the pleasure of indulging myself in the pleasure of blogging during the day!

Coming back, I am in Delhi and have been here for almost three months. Life is running at the speed of a thunderbolt and I am trying to hold on…
Days pass…tempers fly…deadlines get lethal but life…life doesn’t stop! Zooming through the lanes of life I catch glimpses of the past and the present. One fading out as the other rapidly fills it’s space. Like shoving the other into non existence. I am not making much sense now, am i? but then…pray tell me…when have I ever made absolute sense?! And I bet that not even half the people reading this can crack a joke on themselves.

Met quite a few interesting people while I have been working and it’s nice to get to know more people because that pulls one out of one’s previous life. Lots of new names to mention on a blog page. Friends, acquaintances and lots of other people. And two months into my new job and I already have a couple of more job offers! Now, where are those people who are eating their words?! U full or want another helping?! Hehe…I can be pretty mean isn’t it?! My bike is back on road and the rides to and fro are fun, though tiring.

And I have already done weird things like taking pictures of my first salary cheque and going on a spend spree once it was cashed. But then…as one of my friends said…the dust has settled down and now the road is clear. Life is fun, though home food is a vital ingredient missing in the daily course. And for a hog like me….it’s painful!

Ok…I have to go and look at what work has been done so far so I will be off…and besides…I need to reserve a few things to ramble on about, right?!
Adios.

more of jaipur...the better part

2006-10-25T03:14:00.000+09:00

(This post was supposed to be here three days back but my blog was giving me problems...but finally, here it is!)

Hello people who have bothered to open this page and read!
Now…this post is mainly going to be about Jaipur. But first, tell me something…why do people lie? Inspite of saying that they wouldn’t, they do. Strange!

Anyway…let’s now get to the topic and not waste further time mentioning mundane and usual things.

I told u about Jaipur. This place is ACTUALLY strange! I mean, pink buildings were strange enough but this place has stranger things to see! Ok, let’s start with the Jal Mahal. It’s a building made long ago by one of the kings (I don’t remember the details because I was always bad at history) and he used to sit there and watch the dancers and stuff of that kind. One floor of the building is now underground. The place is known to be jinxed because every attempt to break that structure and make something new there has been foiled. Creepy! Now I jump (force of habit) to Amer Fort. It’s more like the king’s harem. The king, who made it, apparently weighed 250 k.g. and was seven feet tall! Yikes! That must have been scary. Added to that, the guy had nine wives! This concept, I don’t understand. I mean, why does one need to have nine women in his life? Why not just love one, care for one and be with one? Plus, economically seen, it increases maintenance cost! The fort, by itself, is pretty nice. Though not marvelous or anything of the sorts. And yes, before I forget, the Rajasthan tourism department has maintained the structures really poorly. I mean, these structures deserve more care! The guide we had could beat me any day at yapping. He just went on…and then said…”this is, after all, my profession!” Christ! In the fort, the prettiest queen had a bigger room on the ground floor and the other queens were put up on the first floor. Now, who was the one who said looks don’t matter? And somehow, just like in fairy tales and folklore, this queen was both the prettiest and the most intelligent. Beauty and brains eh? Anyway, one can see the entire Jaipur city from the fort. And I have just lost count of how many gates this city has! Everywhere that one can see, there is a gate. Next, I was looking at how block painting is done. Pretty interesting. And hand done, of course. Then I saw the hundred gram quilt that is famous because it uses just hundred grams of wool and is very warm. Most of the painting work in the city is done with vegetable colors.

Oh…and now coming to the best part. Chokhi Dhani. It’s a place where one can eat, take a few rides, get a head massage, get into the maze (which has a weird outlet), see what an ancient Rajasthani village looks like, see tribals, buy souvenirs and basically, have a blast. There were hookahs put up at places and though I have given up smoking, I sneaked in a couple of drags when dad wasn’t looking. Was missing someone who I thought was very close. And then there was this cave which was made artificially but looked pretty real! And I played the tribal drum for sometime…felt weird but was a great experience. Got a head massage. Those who think that it was one of the nubile, good looking, ravishing girls giving the massage will be highly mistaken ( come on, this isn’t Thailand or Malaysia!) because it was one of those huge Rajasthani chaps who ALMOST broke a few bones of mine while giving me that massage. But it felt great after that because the entire body felt like it had been loosened up. The set up of this place is brilliant, least said. Right from the ambience to the uniforms to everything else is in sync with the ethnic feel. But thankfully, the cleanliness of the place has been maintained very well. And now, I come to the most wonderfully torturous but wonderful part of the deal….FOOD. A word of caution. People who are on a diet, or are thinking of going on one, don’t even DREAM of coming here. It’s going to be fatal. Suicidal. But I loved it because the thought of dieting can never even occur to me! Butter and ghee flow at this place. I mean…actually flow and if the roti isn’t buttered properly, people may take offence. Here, it's not buttered roti...it's roti'ed' butter! The calorie count goes for a royal toss. But the food is awesome. There is something called bajrey-ki-khichadi which has huge quantities of sugar and butter in it. But it tastes great. Plus the menu is LONG. Really long. And vegetarian! For a carnivore like me, that sounded miserable. And doing proper justice to it will mean half and hour of time at least (if you are one of the proper eaters, that is). This place is paradise for hogs like me. Oh! the buttermilk...it's fantastic...great...brilliant! Since my dad is a lot more civilized than me and not that big a foodie, i compensated for what he couldn't extract! The eating place is this typically Indian setup where one has to sit on the floor and there are these short stubby tables put out in front. Crockery was all leafy! I mean, the ones that are made out of those tree leaves...even the bowls were the same. For glasses, there were clay glasses! There are camels and rabbits and statues of bulls and a few other animals!

Ok, I have been typing and the Sun has come out. I have to sleep. So, take care and hope you have had a great diwali!

Adios.

a few things said and asked :) and about jaipur

2006-10-20T05:07:00.000+09:00

Hey people!

10 days since my last post…and I am back! This time with something new that I have to say…express and even ask!

Have you ever felt the joy of giving a surprise to someone you very dearly love and can do anything for? No? then I suggest you go ahead and do it right now because the feeling is simply amazing! Specially, if, for that surprise, you have pushed your limits, put in extra work so that you can make time and just wanted to see the person smile. All you expected to be a return for that kind of a surprise is a genuine warm smile on the person’s face. Trust me; the feeling is like one you would have never had before. I have done it and hence, this comes from the horse’s mouth! And also, you will realize that more you stretch yourself, harder you work for that surprise, more is the joy of seeing that smile. Specially, because you never expect anything tangible or profitable to turn out of that surprise. It need not be an expensive one (though, better if it is, I guess) and I agree, in some cases the surprise may even backfire but when you look back at it, think about it, it all feels worth it. Just because the one you did it for, matters to you more than you can ever say. When you think about the person you did it for and all that you went through to do that, you realize to what lengths you can go for that ONE person who means all that your life has ever signified! Simply everything! And after it’s over, you don’t remember the hardship that you had to go through…it’s just those few moments of the surprise that stay in your mind. Because for someone else, you would have never even dreamed of doing it, let alone actually going ahead with the plan!!
Try it. And hey, another thing…if there is someone you love a lot and who means a lot to you, then never tell that person that you don’t have time. NEVER. Because if that person means so much to you then you will always make time. Remember, nobody has the 25th hour in the day…it just depends on how significant someone IS for you. If essential, stretch your limits, push yourself harder, bully yourself to work faster so that you end up saving a few hours for someone who defines your life. It’s like you work hard throughout the year to save up for Christmas or New Year! And the joy of spending that saved up time makes memories indelible. They stay forever. Oh! But one word of advice there, do not leave your work pending and then spend the time. It takes the joy having SAVED time to spend. Understand? If you don’t then you got to be REALLY DUMB! Beyond hope is more like it. And in that case, you should be reading nursery rhymes instead of this post!
Anyway, enough of grandfather type of advice and counseling. Now, let’s change the topic.
I am sitting here in Jaipur. Actually, a little away from Jaipur, at a place called Dausa. This place is in Rajasthan. What am I doing here? Well, that’s a good question! I am here to visit my dad. And all that I am doing here is sleeping (alone), eating, watching movies and thinking. Well, that’s a lot for a day I guess. This is what I call a thinking holiday! And hey, did I tell you that I saw BLACK camels for the first time here! This makes me think, can there be racism among camels too? Yikes…what am I thinking?! So, sitting on this machine (it has been borrowed for sometime), I thought of typing out a post and that’s how, this post came about. Now, about this place. I know Dausa sounds like some distant, remote island where you wouldn’t want to be marooned (unless, it was with your girlfriend, like they show in the movies) because you will die due to lack of resources and technology! But it’s nothing like that. This is, in fact, pretty neat a place! With big houses (which don’t look like they have been made from concrete sheets), lots of cool air, thanks to the AC, T.V., fridge and DVD player and even internet! Coming to think of it, this place rocks! And food…its fab. Surprisingly, though I hadn’t been much in touch with the idiot box for quite sometime, I am already bored of it in just two days! Holy heavens! Lots of lawns and stuff around. This looks more like some kind of resort instead of work location! I wish I was an engineer too (just kidding, I love advertising) so that even I would get such benefits!
Passing through Jaipur, I saw a few monuments. This city is called the pink city of India. The reason being, apparently, that the stones that were found in the region were pink in color and hence, all construction was done with that stone, giving the buildings, a pink look. But these stones were blindingly bright in the Sun. hence, it was decided that the building should be painted. On further examination, it was found that the color of paint that would absorb the sunlight was also pink! Sheesh! Yikes! And hence it happened. The buildings were painted pink (I would hate living in a pink building)! And to think of it, I always thought it was called the pink city because the people here were very healthy and hence it came from the saying “in the pink of health”! Stupid, I know! But to be very honest, and a little critical, the color is not really pink. It’s actually a very confused color between pink and peach. This isn’t meant to be a sexist remark, but it is a very feminine color! In fact, in the old city, where most of these heritage buildings are, the government has instructed that all building should remain painted pink! Now, who was the one who said I WAS CRAZY?? And hey…this just occurred to me, many times, when we give directions to people, it’s like, you go straight up, turn left at the fourth turn and it’s a blue ( or green or yellow or white) building on your left. Here, if you say, go straight up and it’s a pink building on your left…the most natural question that would follow would be “which pink building?” because ALL of them are pink! Christ…what confusion! This place has something called the Hawa Mahal (Wind Palace, if translated literally) and a few forts (which I still have to cover). And the city is very dusty, least said. Oh…and did I tell you the strangest thing about the city…there is a jail here and right outside the jail, you have an ATM counter of UTI bank! It’s like all the prisoners are paid through banks and their money gets credited to the account and when they are walking out, they can just swipe their card and get the cash! Now, THAT is what I call technology! Plus, who would possibly want to go and withdraw cash from outside a prison for heaven’s sake? On the other hand, this ATM counter is pretty secure in the sense that possibly nobody would think of robbing one that stands right outside a prison and has cops everywhere! Isn’t that funny? Come on, it is SUPPOSED to be! Otherwise, the city is fine and good for a visit. I shall tell you more about the city as I get to see it.

Right now, I am tired of sitting on this freaking chair and I will thus end my post here. Hope it was a good read!

Adios.

You may find this piece absolutely useless :)

2006-10-11T11:00:00.000+09:00

For some reason unknown to me, people think I am studious and on the more intelligent and hardworking side of the spectrum. Pray tell me why? They ask me questions about how to prepare for competitive exams and stuff like that for heaven’s sake! I mean, what’s the world coming to?!

Now, I wrote copy for an anti smoking campaign. People who know me may find that extremely hypocritical but honestly…I wrote that with all me heart and my personal choices and views haven’t affected my copy. Mr. Subhash Tendle, who is in charge of the course here gave me a faint, knowing smile. After all, there is no experience like first hand experience, is there? Something like…been there…done that! And my fever mounts. Literally and figuratively (the latter is the result is the result of excessive work pressure and the approaching deadlines). I finished executing a campaign just now. Just a little sad joke: what do you call a person who executes campaigns? EXECUTIONER! Ok…ok…I shall be careful not to crack such sad jokes again. But if this joke has successfully bugged the daylights out of you (which the intention was), I can just say that I am surprised that you are not used to my insane humor yet!

I am planning campaigns on Bulgari, an elite company that makes jewels and watches and a whole lot of stuff like that. Check the site: www.bulgari.com
Oh…and before I forget, sorry for the abstract previous post. A friend of mine written about her experiences with bongs in her blog. Tch…tch…tch. Sounds more like “My Experiments with Truth”. But then again, she is on a slightly higher plane of insanity than me, and can hence be forgiven. Someone tonight wished me goodnight in French. I replied in German, Dutch, Italian and Portugese!

Oh and by the way…I am currently learning two softwares called Adobe Premiere and Fruity Loops. The second one is extremely easy and generates amazing music. Because with that I generated good music and if I can generate music then any organism qualifying to be a homo erectus can! Honestly. Check it out. And Adobe is one hell of a software. In one word…amazing! It’s a video editing software and boy it’s fun!

Now…you must have heard that great minds think alike. True. Very true. But when it happens in case of advertising, sometimes I wish that I was born just a few years earlier! Alas I wasn’t. why? That’s not a question I can answer. One, because I have no explanation and two, even if there is n explanation, I am sure it’s going to be one awfully complicated one. Hence…let’s change the topic yet again.

I can see that I have I have changed the topic four times already! Looks like my writing is just as restless as me! Happens. Variety is the spice of life and the principle applies to writing too! Now, suppose I droned on about the same subject throughout the post, wouldn’t you be bored? See? That’s called logic! Pure logic. I have fallen in love with my anti smoking campaign! And it’s tough to make a finicky guy like me fall in love with something or someone. I have forgotten if I have mentioned this or not but if I haven’t, then here it is. I have uploaded some of my work on a website called www.desicreative.com
Just go to the site and there is a search facility available. There, you just type shom.gupta in the column that says SEARCH FOR AUTHORS. Viola! My work will be there! Tell me if you like the work or not.

I will be off for now because I still have a lot of work to finish and time is running out! Till next time then (which maybe a after a few days)…take care and be good to people and needless to say, post nice comments on my blog!

Adios.

Feverish, bugged and still working!

2006-10-10T21:45:00.000+09:00

Ok. I guess I owe all the readers an apology for not being able to write for the past few days. Was caught up in work. Actually, I still am! The added reason was that I was down with fever and had to get to the hospital last night. Don’t ask me what happened there because at 103 degrees, I had passed out and have no clue. I was told by people who were there that in that scary state, I was continuously taking somebody’s name. somebody who is very close to me. And not to mention, currently out of touch. My friends apparently, had thought of trying the number but decided against it because it was late at night. Good they didn’t because I am not sure if trying it would have worked anyway! Would probably just have been some added disturbance to the person!

Anyway, now I am back and working. Came back at around 9 in the morning. The doc wanted to keep me longer and the nurses were worth a stay (wink…wink…kidding!) but I had (and still have) loads of work to get done with. Hence I am back. My jury starts day after and my number will be on the 14th. Jesus! The damn daylights are scared out of my system! Though, I guess the visit to the hospitable hospital was, sort of, a good luck because the person who is in charge of our course here went loco over the copy. Coming to think of it, hearing oneself be praised by people of tall stature has a different high in itself! That’s probably true for all people who have ever created anything and considering the fact that every person does create at least SOMETHING in life, everyone loves being praised! I am no exception ☺
However, he asked me to write a copy for another campaign all over again because he expects much more from me. Apparently. Sometimes, I wish I belonged to the segment whose work is approved without any arguments or changes because the hopes from that segment are very low as it is! Yeah I agree, one has to pay a price for giving someone a hope for improvement. While writing the copy though, I was told to follow my natural style of writing, which, I have been told my many people, is sarcastic. Hmm…let’s see. Even the products and services I am working on, has plenty of scope for sarcasm (yippee! I am not a hippie.) and hence, looks like work is going to be fun. I have been advised to REST. Right. The dog of the doc expects me to rest with the jury merely four days away! But then again, I don’t blame him because he just wants me to do well! That makes me think (and it’s very dangerous when I get down to thinking because that makes me sleepless and I come up with the freakiest of lines)…
The medical profession, actually, is a very sadistic profession because it thrives on the sickness of people! I mean, I agree that the doctors and nurses treat the sick and the injured but, if people stop falling sick, what will THESE poor people eat? And patients do an extremely noble thing by falling sick because they someone earn the bread and butter! Startling, isn’t it? I agree!

No I have not gone nuts because of the fever. I remember that I have the jury coming up. Neither is it that I am not taking my work seriously. I pretty much am. And hence all the hard work has started paying off. But thinking and writing as a profession can be quite frustrating. Because one has to keep thinking all the freaking time! Now, I shall get back and hit work because of two reasons. One, I am workaholic and can’t live without work. Two, if I do not go back to work, then I may not be able to do the level of work that I want to and might have to depend on writing blogs to earn my bread and butter for the rest of my life (the omlettes and cheese would be out of question anyway)! And I am pissed with myself because I am sitting here writing this. Now, it was my responsibility to write for my readers. So I have done it. Now I need to go. And yes, if you do not see posts from me, don’t worry…I probably will have too much on my mind for a few days to write anything (death from the recurring fever or an accident can be the only other causes). Once the work is completed, I shall be back. Take care till then. I have decided to put up my work online. Will tell you all when I do. Now, while I am away, be nice and have a good life.

Adios.

MICA...a wonderful place

2006-10-06T10:14:00.000+09:00

Hey people!
Welcome once again to the crazy blog and an insane blogger who has been bugging you for a long time! (cracking a joke on oneself is known to be a great quality though!)
And this time, readers, it’s not one of the whine stories. Because when one has tried his or her (now, that’s called being politically correct) patience and stamina, it’s best to let go. That’s what I have done. Because sometimes, if one tries persuasion, then others take a deaf ear deliberately and want to prove a point. So be it.
And oh…I was running a fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit (sorry, I forgot the crlsius conversion) maybe because of the extreme abuse of my body.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if people’s bodies had the capability to sue the people! Yikes! I would have gone bankrupt! Thank God for small mercies!

Now about this post. This one is about Mudra Institute of Communications, Ahmedabad (MICA). This is the place where I am learning (by making lots of mistakes though) copywriting. It’s known to be the best in the country…no, in the continent (Asia, for the ones who didn’t catch it!) and the place is…in one word…amazing!
No they haven’t paid me to write (I know its very mean of them) and hence it’s not an advertisement for them. Because if I start writing for free then where do you think I will get my bread, butter, cheese, marmalade, omlette, milk, coffee, corn flakes, mayonnaise et al. from (yeah yeah I know I eat a little more than normal but c’mon, it’s not bad, is it?)?

Ok…enough deviation (God knows when I will be a little more focused!).
Now about MICA. The place is, as I already told you, amazing (oh! Repeating points is another thing I need to take care of. Remind me when I do repeat points.) and the place around is an absolute contrast. Yikes! It’s the typical INDIAN COUNTRYSIDE…complete with bulls, cows, occasional camels, snakes and whole lot of other flora and fauna. Inside…the place rocks. Beautiful intelligent people, brilliant faculty and infrastructure, a sprawling campus and a huge but harmless dog. The dog happens to be a German Shepherd called Roxy (guess you have read about him already. If you haven’t, then be a little more regular!).

When the Sun dawns on the campus, it bathes the entire campus in soft sunlight. Every morning, plenty of birds flock to the campus. Peacocks are not uncommon and early in the morning (which I mostly see because I stay up at nights mostly, like many others) one can hear them crow. Walk out in the that velvet like sunlight and fatigue just disappears like a whiff of smoke! The mornings are the best part of the day and it’s an experience in itself. And every morning Roxy can be found sleeping either in the computer lab or on the porch of one of the many hostel blocks. Squirrels set out to hunt for food with the first ray of light. Never had I seen nature from so close and at such a pinnacle of glory! Enchanting…truly enchanting. And the campus never sleeps. At any given hour of the day (or night), people can be found awake and either working or taking a break from mentally taxing work. Oh…I forgot…eagles and monkeys have also made themselves at home here and live in absolute harmony. Ok. Enough about the animals and birds found here. If I write any more about them (there is plenty more, though) you will probably think this is some kind of wildlife sanctuary instead of an institute for communications!

Now about the buildings (bored?)! there is a water tank here that’s pretty high (in fact higher than just pretty high) and the entire countryside is visible from the top. Though the place is a little difficult to reach, considering the narrow winding staircase with cobwebs and bird nests at places along the way, its simply marvelous! Romantic, yes the spot is VERY MUCH SO but not much romance takes place because nobody (I mean no SANE guy) will take his girlfriend there because she will probably have thrown enough tantrums to have the dissipated the romantic clouds (hey! That’s a good line!).
Then there is the terrace of the academic block which also is a brilliant spot and is a great place to sit and think. It, of course, serves multiple functions though (or so I have heard)! The hostel blocks are in the shape of the letter “C” of the English alphabet and hence every door face the opposite and when one steps out of the room, it doesn’t look deserted and desolate. Thankfully so! Did you know that similar style of construction was followed in most old Indian homes? Even the terraces of the hostels provide a brilliant place to think and brood (though the metal stairs are a little rickety, but who cares? It’s every bit worth it!). I have spent countless evenings at that place when I needed time all to myself…and in the past couple of months, such occasions have been plenty and hence I know the place. And all the terraces are connected with metal frames laid across the parapets! Good eh? I know!
Now about the mess. This is one of the few hostels where the mess isn’t in a MESS (see?! A good line yet again!) and it’s a big, I mean BIG hall with a great arrangement of furniture.

Then again, we have our little Mac lab with the apple G4 systems. This is where most of the time is spent (the air-conditioning just increases the duration) working, watching movies and well…what else do you think one can do in a lab anyway? Go for a picnic??
I love my Mac! There are 15 of them here. One for everyone!

At nights, the campus is quiet and serene. Just the sound of crickets and otherwise, absolute silence. Not the eerie one though! It’s the comfortable, cozy silence of the night. Then…what else?...oh…yes…Chota Canteen. Probably the most visited place on campus and the most well known too! It’s the smoking, brain storming and idea generation zone. Occasionally, classes also happen here (because it’s easier to call students there instead of classes!). So then, it’s coffee, class and cigarettes! What a combination. No no…I have quit smoking…I was just mentioning! And as far as the faculty goes…I can easily and effortlessly fill up another 100 pages, writing just about them! Fine, brilliant and extremely knowledgeable masters of their respective fields. That’s what they are, in one line!

I have been thinking about what I missed out (because there is SO freaking much to write about that things just slip out of the un-stretchable walls of memory) and writing for the past half hour. I know I haven’t covered anything of this place…but I have a class in 20 minutes and I have to rush to the shower, and eventually to the class! And I take a little more time in the shower because the frame happens to be a little large people! So that makes it… 10 minutes for the shower and attire (I know that’s long…you must understand that I am a lazy bum and work isn’t very deeply embedded in my system…at least the liking for such mundane work isn’t!) and then 5 minutes to HOG like a hedgehog. Then the last five minutes are for than sprint to the class! Christ…I am getting late already! ☺
Hence I shall see you later and comments shall be appreciated (please make them nice eh?? Just kidding) and valued…so WRITE them when you have a blogger i.d. and don’t be a lazy bum like me!

Adios.

A few childhood memories...

2006-10-05T04:29:00.000+09:00

Hey! Hello! I am back…with no bang burst or ripple! Quietly…very quietly.
This post is about me.

There was one day when I was born and then I went to school. Many schools, actually (now, don't tell me "so what? everyone goes to school" because I know that. I just wanted to mention it, alright?). I wanted to talk to someone about all this. Only to her. But then, her internet wasn’t working properly (flip side of technology, you see? Tch tch tch...) and throughout the day I don’t have the time to talk. It’s only late at night when she is either busy or sleeping (what else do you think normal humans, unlike me, do?)

Now…getting back to the thing I was talking about. ME. Me, as a kid.
There were plenty of incidents of childhood that have stayed with me throughout. I was never very physically mischievous as a kid but there was plenty of mischief that was pumped into me!

There was this once when someone in the class had taken my home-work note book and when the teacher was checking the work, I couldn’t find it. It was weird. She didn’t listen to me and started rapping me on the knuckles (yeow! That hurt) and till my patience barrier was up (and it’s generally not very high, except for certain people. Those for whom it is, will understand this line) I bore the rapping and then I bit her with all the strength my little frame (how tall do you expect a six-year-old to be, anyway!) could muster! Must say I left quite a prominent mark! Was, needless to say, told to get out of the class. And I did. I wasn’t taking injustice for anything! The worst though, was yet to come because my mother happened to be a teacher in the school and when the news reached her, I was called to the staff room. Yes, I had SOME support I thought and went jumping. But there the tables had been turned and I got this resounding, impression leaving, one cracker of a slap from my mom! That long, straight mop of hair on my head went flying in all directions! Christ, that was insane! Next exam, I scored the highest in the teacher’s paper and I could see the invisible slap on her face when she handed me my paper. The subject, by the way, was the scary, haunting one called Mathematics. I still hate the subject (it’s a different thing that my dad loves it. Who says all sons take after their dads?)

Then again, there was this lunch thing that our school followed because they felt that the kids should have steaming hot lunch (it was a different thing though, that the lunch, by the time it reached us, was cold!) so there was this huge, massive water tank that provided for the water requirements. So, little band of naughty kids that we were…we jumped in to the pool (or tank) and went for a swim. That too, we were fully dressed in chocolate shorts with suspenders and white shirt. Boy! Was that an experience or what…nobody ever knew! And invariably I became the hero since I led the band! Mischief galore eh?

Then there was another time when we had a competition called getting ready for school. The school uniform was piled at the end of the track and the kids had to run (wearing their under wears) to the end of the track and wear the uniform and get back. Yikes! That was, when I look back at it, pretty embarrassing! Anyway, kids are kids and we were really thrilled about the thing. The day dawned and we took our places on the track. I had rolled up my socks for easy wearing. Bang! Fired the gun and off we were! I reached my pile of clothes second. But was quicker (I am always fast at putting on and taking off clothes. No pun intended) in getting dressed. So I put my shirt, shorts and socks on and was confused for a split second about whether to wear my left shoe first or the right one! Scratch…scratch…I stood there thinking. Then I saw the guy beside me putting on the socks. Panic hit my gut. I sat down and pushed both the feet into the shoes (isn’t that adorable, now?) and tied the laces. Turned around and ran…
A step away from the finishing line…plonk…plonk…off came both the buttons of my suspender straps (that’s precisely why I dislike suspenders.) and when I stopped, they hung like a the tails of a two tailed ape. I was a little confused…what the hell?! But then, the judges thought that I was good enough to win the first prize and hence it was given to me! Yippee! And there is another one…(please read that…please!! I promise I won’t bore you.)

I told you about this hot lunch funda, didn’t I? We also had milk served with that. Now, I always loved milk…still do. Now, we had this huge class of 40 kids and on that particular day…most of them were absent. But the jugs of milk had arrived. And our class teacher’s son (who was four years our senior) had come down that day because his classes had been done with earlier. So…a challenge came up. Who could beat him in drinking milk? Hey…how could I not take up such a call?! So I listened to my inner voice and it said “go. Do it” and so I went ahead. First glass. Then the second. Then third. Fourth followed. By the ninth, he was out and I continued. Beat him by a jug and three glasses! Yikes! And even more surprising, I digested all that without ANY problem! After that, it wasn’t uncommon to hear mothers say…”see? You should be like him. He drinks milk!”
Boy what a feeling that was! And there was this one day when a pup (one of the six that the bitch in the school had delivered) wandered off and sat right under the truck that was carrying construction material for an upcoming apartment. I for some unknown reason, am an absolute animal lover (lizards and cockroaches are the only exceptions). So I crawled under the truck and tried enticing the pup with a biscuit. Those days, since I was too young to handle big sums of money, I was given a few rupees to spend once in a while. So that day I had only a buck left on me (sheesh…that’s very little when I look back at it) so I bought a loose biscuit for the pup and tried to bring him out. That freaking obstinate idiot just wouldn’t listen! So I got right under the damned truck and caught hold of it. Gently. As I was about to crawl out, I heard the engine rev to life. Shit! Now what? I screamed in the hope that the driver might just listen but he probably couldn’t hear a thing (just like that girl who never listens to me and is probably reading this right now). The huge monster of a truck started moving and since I was between the wheels, I couldn’t get out either way! Plus the poor pup would have died (not that he would have survived sitting under the wheel anyway but still…) with me! Luckily this woman who was working on the site saw a white school uniform and screamed out to the driver. The truck stopped millimeters from my head. For a second I couldn’t believe I was alive and then I crawled out and gave her a candy that got that day in the class. I mean, as it was, I was six and on top of that, broke. What could one expect a broke six-year old to do to show gratitude??? She burst out laughing, showing a set of tobacco stained teeth. Yikes! That WAS sort of…umm…let’s say…scary. So I ran off with the pup and put it in my bag. I still remember my mom shriek at the sight of something moving in my bag. Then she opened it to find a pup jump out and pee on the sofa! He got away with it and I got the hiding. Strange divine justice, must say! Irony of life. Anyway…the pup stayed on for a few days and then I thought that if I am away from my mom, I would miss her and so maybe even he was missing his mom. So I carried it all the way back to school and gave it to the mother. I think I saw the mother smile at the sight of the pup. Do dogs smile? I don’t know…might have been an illusion.

Have plenty of such incidents to narrate…but I am running out of time and space. The other incidents are just for you to share lady…if you have the time and the inclination to know (this is person specific and all other ladies ignore this statement PLEASE!). all the while that I wrote this…I missed you. Throughout all these years, because of many incidents and company, somewhere I had lost the small joys of life. Now I am back. And hope…the person who got me back on track (rather, for whom I came back on track) comes back to me! Amen. No no…it’s of course not my mom because the she has already given up on me! This will be surprise even for her! So…I am not all that bad eh?!
Scratch…wonder…wonder! Missed you baby.

And for all the patient readers (the ones who have survived the ordeal of having read this ENTIRE post), you deserve a Nobel people! Till next time then…

Adios.

A little note...

2006-10-01T11:23:00.000+09:00

With every approaching dawn,
Life moves on,
Adding a new page everyday,
To the existence.

There are days,
Which are bright and sunny,
And then again,
There are the ones that are cloudy.

There are days which,
Have celebrations in them,
And then there are ones that,
Make life look so lonely.

Sometimes, there are moments,
Moments when I just want to walk on the beach,
Holding someone I live to die for,
But I know…she isn’t here for me…

Some are the days, when.
Life is on a high and,
On others, it’s submerged,
Beneath unfathomable gloom.

These moments and days,
Make up one’s existence,
That spans across years…decades!
And every moment of it adds meaning.

Something is learnt, from every passing day,
Good, bad, ugly; be what it may.
It’s just that when it’s cloudy, one prays for sunlight,
And on the days of scorching heat, one prays for a drizzle.

To live and to exist, are not the same thing,
There is an unwritten difference,
A difference that is to be felt,
It’s there to be understood.

Till now, I have just existed,
Now I want to live.
Just one question, I have to ask you…
Will you hold my hand when I seek it in the dark?

Hey people…
Hello. I have been missing for the past one day. Yeah, I didn’t have the time to write. I was, let’s just say, a little preoccupied. Tell me, did you like the piece above? Just wrote it sitting here on the computer. Actually, I was thinking of someone and missing the person a lot. And for me, the best way to express is to write! Hence I did. It’s just a little piece that came in from the heart. Words arranged themselves into cohesive sentences and the poem formed itself.

Sometimes, it’s really strange. Strange to the point of being scary! Spontaneity plays and writing happens by itself. And at other times, even taxing the all controlling brain doesn’t get results. Strange are the ways of human creativity. Isn’t it?
Now, why am I sitting here and typing out this post when I should be sitting on this damned (no, it’s actually pretty good) machine working? I don’t know. I just simply DON’T!

I am a little strange…a little whacko, maybe (not that I didn’t know it earlier) but I sometimes feel like jumping from one topic to another. Now, suddenly, I feel like talking about static electricity. Yikes! I am going to be a copywriter and if I keep jumping topics like this…I will be thrown out of my job! What will happen then? Scratch…wonder…scratch…scratch…(this is the sound of me, thinking)! Now, I come back to topic (yes, I know I said that I am a little whacko…but I am not deranged!) of static electricity. Now, I presume you know what static electricity is and if you DON’T then go back to your schoolbooks!

Someone here tapped someone else on the shoulder and apparently got a mild shock. Now, what’s so strange about THAT?? It has happened to me plenty of times that I just brush against someone and got a mild shock! It’s purely because of static electricity (whoa…I am electrifying…is something that people will think, maybe) and it’s the same principle that works when one rubs a comb or scale on the hair or woolen fabric and picks up pieces of paper with it ☺
It’s THAT simple! Hmm…now that makes me think. Lights. Camera. ACTION! I am thinking and before I lose my chain of thought, I shall run to compose it properly. I know I am abstract and all that but I will, someday, have a job to keep…
So, just practicing from now on.
Keep dropping in once in a while to check up on these nutcase’s posts. Maybe I will eventually come up with good pieces of literature. Till I do, help me upgrade my writing by bringing in your comments (just don’t make them TOO bad)!

Till next time then…

Adios.

Birthday Description...

2006-09-29T05:10:00.000+09:00

Hello yet again. I have completed yet another year on the face of the planet. What’s going to follow in this post is all about what happened! Have patience and read on!!

Needless to say, I was dunked. It was water that appeared white at first glance. Some of the ingredients were phenyl, Horlicks, nail polish and sand. Rest of the ingredients, I am scared to even guess! I was bathed in that and as obvious, everyone else followed suit, though they had the luxury of plain, cold water. In MICA, there is no escaping the dunking. I was stinking by the end of it. Yikes. My hair was sticky and I smelt like a freshly cleaned washroom. And our director’s dog, Roxy, was drenched too! Poor canine was running around for cover. Then the people in the other blocks were woken up and bathed in ice-cold water. Whoa, that’s SOME shock therapy!

Then the party followed to the canteen where a chocolate cake with chocolate flakes and almonds and whipped cream was waiting to be cut open. Just that the knife was a little too small. Hence I came back to my room and took my hunting knife along. Now, THAT’S the way to cut a cake!! Isn’t it?! Anyway, the cake was cut and it was this huge cake (one has to have one when there are 15 people to hog AND they also have to smear it) of which, more than half was on my face and the rest was in people’s mouths. And the cake was not just put on my face; it was very meticulously done. Very meticulously done.
Two people concentrated on my nose, two on my ears and rest just headed straight for the face! By the end of the ordeal, I ended up looking like a clown from Olympic Circus (it’s one of the many circuses I have been to) with a cherry critically embedded in the white icing and pasted on my nose. Rest of my face looked like an African hunter with alternate lines of brown and white. My ears were filled to deafness with cream. Sheesh! Then, the kicking followed. Kicks rained from all eight directions. And where all did it hit me, I don’t even remember. Then I was lifted up in the air (almost 8 feet) and dropped like some washer man washing dirty clothes!!

The first round of drinks then followed. The teetotalers had soft drinks. By then it was 1.30 a.m. The party hadn’t even started yet. Everyone headed to their respective dwelling quarters and changed into dry clothes (nobody wanted to catch a cold, obviously) and I headed straight to the shower. There was something green on the floor there and I am pretty sure, it was one of the ingredients in the water but I didn’t bother (actually didn’t want to) finding out. The cream was, I must admit, very faithful. Just wasn’t coming off! Yikes! Neither was the cherry! Yikes again! Anyway, after close to 20 minutes of struggle, it relented and came off. Standing under the shower, I could see blackish green water flow off. Barf barf. Three rounds of shampoo and four rounds of soap is what it took to get the alien stuff off me. Oof. That was SOME hard work indeed. But as the wise people have said “try and try till you succeed”. And yeah, how did I miss out on this? I have so far shared the shower only with one person and I was missing that girl like crazy in the shower at that time. I remember having cuddled her in the shower when we were in (rather she had cuddled up) because the hot water tap wasn’t working! So. Fantasies came alive. And just then…bang bang! Someone hammered the door asking me to come out because everyone else was there. There, for what? It didn’t strike me for a second because I was a little lost in thinking of her. And could almost see her standing there. With her innocent eyes looking up at me and then closing in ecstasy as I bent down to kiss her. It was exactly what had happened last time. Giving her a bath was an experience that was simply out of the world! Suddenly there was an error in transmission of the visuals. That was because of the continuous hammering. Grudgingly, I stepped out. Looked a little zapped. The drinks and re-living that fantasy were having their effect.

Anyway, by the time I dressed and came out, the music was blaring loud and our own DJ was going the mixing extraordinarily well! There were four kinds of liquor: Whiskey, Vodka, Beer and Rum (dark). There was a toast and after that, it was all flowing! Wow. Initially, people were just grooving and then the dancing fit hit the people. Soon, the lights (which had been arranged) and the floor were serving the purpose they were meant to. Now, here, we luckily have a whole lot of space to dance. Couples and singles…everyone was lost dancing away to glory. Close dance, distant dance, crazy dance and proper dance, all these types were there! The tracks were brilliant and well mixed. So much so that we told the guy that in case he doesn’t do too well in advertising, he could take up DJing as a profession! Interesting suggestion eh? And high that everyone was, wisecracks were coming up from the weirdest of people! Someone came up with “you can also advertise for the place that you’re working at! I was 10 rounds down and my head felt a little light. Then it felt very light by the time I was 15 down. Strangely, I have never had the experience that people call “absolutely sloshed”. Wish I have one of those SOMEDAY. That reminds me, the girl I keep mentioning, she sleeps when she has had a little too much WINE!! I remember because we had gone out for this over night trip and I wanted to make it romantic and stuff (yeah the M&B kind, though I have never read one). She slept half way through! Cute it was. What was even cuter that she slept in my lap. Can never forget it. She looked SO LOVABLE. And the way she held on to me…boy it was beyond description!! Enough about her. Cut.

We saw the Sun rise. It was 6 a.m. and we had run out of liquor. Reluctantly, people went to bed. Some together, some alone (I belonged to the latter category because I chose to) and when I woke up, it was past 2 in the afternoon. Most were still in slumber. Zzzzzzzz.
I pushed my frame out of the bed and freshened up.
Someone had given me this white shirt with blue and grey floral print. It was thought to be very “urban male” kind and I was told to wear it. Actually, my mom had told me to wear something new and that was the only new piece of garment I had! So it was that and my blue denim. Just in case you are interested in seeing what it looked like, then you can check my orkut album. Have a couple of snaps put up.

The guys at the mess cooked up some Chawal Ki Kheer for the evening. Sweet gesture. A little too sweet. No, not the gesture, it was the kheer ☺
Wishes and cards and calls kept pouring in throughout the day. So much so that I actually had to borrow three phones and give out those numbers because my number was jammed with calls! Boy…everyday should be a birthday! Isn’t it?

Finally the 24 hours of the birthday ended and today, since the morning I have been back to slogging and working. This is reality! THIS is! That was a long dream. It has passed.

Ok, I know this description was a little too factual and not like I write generally. This piece was actually ON DEMAND (wow! I already have readers asking for more!) so that’s how it’s here.

More later because I have to head back too work! What a life??! Oh, I forgot to mention: Roxy had a huge piece of cake from my hand last night and has been sleeping throughout the day (not that he doesn’t, otherwise) and even now, he sleeping on the floor, barely three feet away from me. THAT, is life! Sigh…I am human.

Adios.

The Birthday....description....

2006-09-29T04:27:00.001+09:00