A Cog In The Wheel

It is not easy to sum up five months in a premier institute in a small write up. I am not even going to attempt to do that as it would be nothing but folly. What I am going to do is to dive down deep into spaces of my mind and try to capture some figments, some events, some flashes that have stuck with me and probably will be etched brightly in my memory, by the time I am done writing. Why am I doing this? Tonight was one of those few nights, when I felt that smiles were actually genuine, hugs were actually warm and handshakes meant respect. When I saw these happen, my night was done. It was time to leave. I am happy.

Everything appeared fake when I came here at first. From the trees being planted in a row around the campus to the artificially grown grass and even the people around me. There seemed to be a layer of unnecessary social obligation, unwanted courteousness, needless formality everywhere. Deep down all this lacked ingenuity. This troubled me for some time.

But in between, I saw gems that shined in their own way... Everybody has a past. Most of us are not comfortable sharing it with strangers or acquaintances. I met people who soon became acquaintances who rather quickly grew into friends and who now are individuals I have come to respect. It is not their accomplishments, nor their backgrounds, that drew me towards them. It is their willingness to help. Their willingness to be exposed, albeit cautiously to causes they find just. Their readiness to help you when asked for. Their uncanny ability to understand that something is not right with you by just a look or the degree of happiness in your smile.

In this short span of time here, I have fallen in love, been heart broken, felt real anger, overjoyed, accomplished, satisfied, confused and what not. I have felt like loosing myself in the long locks of one of the most gracious women I have ever seen. I have also resigned to the fact that I have to get my priorities straight, else I would get screwed. I have been shouted at for slacking, been cared for when I am sick, been tolerated for my incompetence and also appreciated for my effort.

But my greatest accomplishment till date. I have at least one FRIEND whom at the middle of the night I can call and talk bull shit to in the campus. I have at least one FRIEND, who will find time to teach me subjects which I was too lazy to attend classes or study. I have at least one FRIEND who will walk with me and understand when I want to be silent and when I want to talk. I have at least one FRIEND who will make me smile no matter how down and under I am. I have at least one FRIEND who will invite me over to his place for a drink and a friendly chat. I also have one FRIEND who will keep reminding me what a schmuck I was to choose the wrong relationships and would make me suffer.

What I have come to realize is that comfort and discomfort go hand in hand. So does happiness and sadness. It is how you choose to be in these situations that actually decides the state of your mind and the kind of person you are. My biggest learning till date would be to be thankful for what I have. I am thankful for this opportunity to study in one of the best colleges in the country. I am thankful for getting my ass kicked day in and day out here. I am thankful for this perpetual state of struggle that I find myself in no matter what I do. I am thankful for this alarming level of uncertainty and ambiguity that may well stay with me for the rest of this year.

But most of all, I am thankful for being a cog in a unique wheel, made of these gems of persons who actually make waking up and coming to class worth while and happening. Those beauties who bring a smile on my face just by their mere presence. I am thankful to have such wonderful individuals as my classmates whom I have come to love and respect in this short period of time... time which I know would soon become eternity. 

If the reader feels the same... you are lucky and be thankful

Elections and the Illusion of Change

Somehow, the way people are rejoicing the change in governance in the recently held assembly elections and the way they are celebrating the ‘humiliation’ of Congress in these states reminds me of Duryodhana’s dying words to Bheema, Krishna and Arjuna. While he lies down in pain and agony with Bheema rejoicing on having defeated him, Duryodhana thus replies ‘All through my life, I have enjoyed countless riches, splurged my belongings willfully, enjoyed the company of any woman I wanted and did whatever I felt like. I have defeated and watched the downfall of many of my foes. I have sent you and your brothers to exile whilst I enjoyed your riches and possessions. Why should I feel remorse for dying now O Bheema? I lived my life befitting a Kshatriya, and I die the way a Kshatriya should. I have no regrets whatsoever because I know I will be going to heaven’. True to his words, Duryodhana and all his brothers did go to heaven and were waiting for the Pandavas when finally their time came or so the story goes. Congress now, and any political party on the losing side will have the same arguments as Duryodhana and they are not wrong in arguing so.

The mood after every election whether it be general or assembly is one of triumph of good over evil, the hope that the change that happened is welcome and for good and the feeling that ‘things will change for the better from now on’. The masses very conveniently tend to forget that elections are a 5 year process that has been happening in our country since independence. Now I ask the reader some questions. Has the change in government in any way contributed to the safety of women in our country in the past? Has it contributed to the reduction of cast oppression so rampant in Northern states? Has communalism or the victimization of minorities being reduced? Has the conviction rates of the corrupt, the rapists, the murderers increased in any manner? Other than the flamboyant media reports that surface from time to time on the various news that seems to ‘break’ day in and day out on various scams, has it resulted in any concrete measures to tackle the source of the problems? The biggest question of all does it really matter which political party wins or loses if change does not happen at the grass root level?

They say elections are the only time when the pompous and the poor are equal in the country, as both their votes have the same value. Quite dramatic and fantasizing to think, if you ask me. Utopia is created within a day. But come tomorrow, the pompous continue to be more pompous and the poor becomes poorer than yesterday. Elections are by far the longest ongoing prime time drama this country has seen. The trp ratings and viewership only increases as the time goes. It is a welcome distraction for the masses who supposedly lead ‘mundane’ lives and believe that they have contributed to the welfare of the country by voting the government out of power and installing a new set. This is their idea of contribution towards nation building. Once the hangover is done, they go back to bribing officials to get things done faster in government offices, mistreat their wives and daughters and blame them for all the ill in the family, drink and gamble a majority of their income, curse the minority for spoiling the harmony in the country and barter their daughters off for the ‘best deal’ a groom can offer. The clock has been reset when the masses shall again begin to blame the government for the ‘state of the nation’. Given time the ‘helpless common man’ will point their fingers to those in power for their sorry state. This wheel has been turning since independence and it will keep turning until and unless the ‘common man’ starts taking some responsibility for the ‘current state of the nation’ they lament about so much. The greatest cover up in the history of this country has been to portray the ‘common man’ as helpless and to portray the government as the only source of respite and the sole group responsible for the betterment of the masses.

What the ‘common man’ has to realise is that in such a huge country like India with the second largest, soon to be the largest, population in the world, although the government would love to play the role of policy maker, implementer and the overseer, it is logistically impossible to do so. Ultimately the Government is confined to the role of a policy maker and a service facilitator. Believe it or not, India has all the right policies, in paper, to achieve whatever the ‘common man’ wishes his country to achieve. As long as the ‘common man’ refuses to take the responsibility for the plight of the nation this never ending spiral of blame game will continue.

The first step is always the hardest. The first generation of ‘common men’ who takes a stand will always be martyrs. For every single person who decides to take a stand against the current scenario in the country, a hundred will stand against him/her resisting the change. Change whether good or bad is scary for most people. We are afraid of the unknown. We fear anything we are not comfortable with. We fear everything which we do not understand. This fear forces us to stay in our comfort zone, to believe that the society around us is correct, the herd mentality must be respected and the epitome of social status is to conform to the norms of the society. As a result we train the future generation to think in a way the present society thinks, we frown on same sex, inter cast, inter religious marriages, we stamp down any innovative idea the young kids might have, dismissing them as a ‘lack of maturity’ and train them to believe that the key to a happy life is to have a government job or a software job after studying engineering (irrespective of your branch), then go to America for MBA or MS and then get married to a girl. Any other stream of education, be it arts or science is lower in stature and does not command the same respect as an engineer or doctor does. Your social standing and status is determined by how much you are aligned with this set norm. Unfortunately, the social media, the advertisements and the surrounding environment as a whole is filled with so much idiosyncrasies, that it becomes very difficult to figure out things for yourself. To give you a small example, the beauty products industry survives only because the men and women have this inherent feeling that a fairer complexion is better than being dark skinned. Just imagine the kind of impact that will happen if tomorrow all the young girls and boys decided that they look good as they are, and that they don’t need a fairness cream to feel confident, which by the way is actually true.

Change is inevitable. The manner of change can be controlled to an extent. Personally I believe the biggest vote a person can cast, is to vote for change in his/her personal life. Voting is a decision. Start by voting for a career that gives you personal gratification. Vote for donating to an orphanage or sponsoring the education of a child rather than offering to Gods. Vote for quality over quantity. Above all vote for your happiness rather than the happiness of the herd. Because when you are sad, the herd will not share your grief. They will choose to see what makes them happy.

A Tribute to the Next Door Indian and... My Reflection

How do you define patriotism? Is it only the courage shown by our soldiers in the face of enemy fires? The mental stability that sees them through inhuman conditions they face throughout the year in the highest battlefield on earth, scorching deserts and inhabitable forests… forced to live on creatures that would make a civilian puke, forced to live away from their beloved for months together. What motivates them to take up these tasks I suppose.

Today, I was reading an article in the paper which had stories of soldiers and civilians who had seen action during the Indo – China war. I wonder what I would have done if faced with a similar situation. I wonder if I would ever face such a situation. The paper ran stories of how soldiers survived excess of 15 days without food, surrounded by the enemy… stories of how entire battalions fought to the last bullet rather than retreat to safety.

I wonder what goes on through the mind of a soldier when he realizes that there is no escape and that he has to hold the line as long as he can. I wonder if he ever realizes this fact until a bullet hits him. I guess the officers would know and this makes their last moments even tougher. Being a civilian all that I can do is contemplate on the ifs and buts. But I do wonder, if it is really patriotism that drives our brave, or is it the sense of duty, the sense of not to let down the person standing next to you that runs paramount in their mind. I guess it must be the latter that would be a more powerful motivator. The sense that there is no one else to do the job that leads them to do brave deeds of which bards sing songs as long as life exists. But is this the only way to be patriotic? 

How can we, as civilians, be patriotic? Supporting the Indian cricket team by getting drunk in a pub and screaming at the top of our voices, sitting on the window of our sports car with the Indian flag and getting our hand chopped off by a bus coming in the opposite direction would be a start I guess (exaggeration of some memories). Criticizing the government for the waste of public wealth and holding personal discussions on how this land will never improve and cursing your fate of belonging to such a corrupt society and then, voting the same government back to power, would take you to the next level of intellectual masturbators. Finally, throwing the bundle of plastic bags into the nearby road early in the morning, spitting and peeing wherever you please, jaywalking through busy roads and blaming the accidents as the sole responsibility of the rash drunken drivers would make you the ideal patriot.

You can go a step further by filming a gang rape on a public place and uploading it in the social media and broadcasting on national television in the name of investigative journalism and being the ‘responsible citizen’ who helped nab the ‘culprits’. Wanna be the model citizen? On your way from office have a couple of pegs, buy some petrol, go home, beat up your wife for not giving the second installment of the demanded dowry and for giving birth to a girl, tie them up together and burn them. Though we have lesser model and responsible citizens, in a way we all are intellectual masturbators and ideal patriots.

If you are thinking that I am going to suggest ways out of this, sorry you are mistaken. As for me, I am just going to go by doing my business, pay my taxes… Floyd, travel and trek my way to an early grave if Providence be so kind. Yes, I am going to do NOTHING. You have no idea how productive it can be. As the saying goes, most of the harm that came to this world was done by people who wanted to do something good.

  

And for those whose blood ‘boiled’, or such similar superlatives, and are thinking of joining the Civil Services, please don’t. If you do, you can watch all of the above, every single day, smile, sign and be on your way. If you are lucky, the government might even give you an allowance for toilet paper so that you can wipe off their mess and their ass after they are done (apologies for the unplesantaries and offensive language, if you found any).

I envy the soldiers for choosing the easy way out. Dying once is preferable to dying every single day is what I mean.

Thank You Mr.Nolan for Giving Me a Sleepless Night

I don’t blog movie reviews. It is a matter of choice as I don’t prefer dissecting a work no matter how good or bad it is and debate on the tiny nuances that lead the movie to be a blockbuster or a flop. But Christopher Nolan has forced my hand. I am here not as a film critique, or an expert who has a self assuming aura of ‘know it all’ around him. I am here as what I truly am, one of the million viewers who watched his latest creation The Dark Knight Rises on screen. A viewer who just stepped out of the screener and realized that life and films will never be the same again. A viewer whose faith has been restored in quality cinema after years of disdain and indifference. Yes Mr. Nolan, you have made a believer out of me.

Movies have always had a big impact on me. It has always been something more than mere entertainment. Be it the Lord of the Rings, or the earlier Batman epics, The Departed, Shawshank Redemption, I have this terrible tendency of comparing some acts from these movies to real life. Some lines said in the movies just remain with you till the end of time, like “There is some good left in this world, Mr.Frodo and it is worth fighting for” by Samwise Gamgee or “They teach you that you can either be a cop or a killer, but what I ask you is this… When you are facing a loaded gun, what’s the difference” from Departed, to mention a few.

But it would take more than a genius to conceptualize something like Inception or Prestige or take a ‘good old’ super hero flick like Batman, which is the good defeats the bad and everybody lives happily ever after tale, and turn it into something more than that. Yes even in this movie all of the above does happen. Some might argue it to be a very predictable ending. But I got out of theatre feeling happy that the movie ended the way it did. For the first time I was happy to see the hero survive (this coming from a Director who has no qualms in killing any of his characters). I was happy to see the movie end the way it ended because it gave me hope to look for something anew next time. I left the theatre with a feeling of fulfillment and therein lies the success of the film maker.

After Dark Knight and the ‘wtf’, ‘holy cow’ performance of Heath Ledger as Joker, I had often wondered how Nolan or anyone could beat this performance and that script. How could anyone think of bringing a sequel that will live up to the expectations or how anyone else could even dare to think about making a movie on Batman. But Nolan made a believer out of me. He made me believe that there is always room for improvement and that a person’s most powerful tool is his brain. Remember the thing teachers used to tell us in school that we use only 7% or 11% of our brain’s true potential. I kind of actually believe in it now.

Being a Mallu and owing my schooling to a kick ass ‘boys only’ school I have this inherent cynicism in me, which does not hesitate to pounce on the slightest bit of mediocrity that I find in a movie or in life for that matter. The fact that Malayalam cinema is at least 10 years ahead of any other movie industry in India doesn’t help much. But for all those ‘critics’ out there who criticize this particular movie, I say only this. Try it yourself. Try to write a script so powerful and deep that it leaves you intrigued and brainstorming for hours after. Try to direct a movie which can actually keep the viewers glued to the seats and then produce a sequel to that movie and deliver above the expectations of the viewers. If you cannot do any of this, at least buy a ticket from your own money and go watch the movie, instead of going on free passes to screenings with your knowledgeable façade. In short, change your job and get a life.

I know I have been very one sided and have been showering praises like never before (quite unlike me, my friends will say). But I seriously think I can be allowed a little latitude this time for the sake of my deprived sleep and my pumping adrenaline.

To conclude I would like to quote my friend… “Today you have become something more than a mere mortal, Mr. Nolan… you have become a LEGEND”

What Not to Write a Girl the Last Time You See Her

 “A girl can have amazing effects on your priorities. She can have disastrous effects on the choices you make and the way you lead your life. After I shifted to Hyderabad, leaving all that the wonderful Pune had offered and had yet to offer me, I had nothing else in my mind other than to find my own feet and more importantly find myself again. But the thing with life is that it takes you on a wonderful joy ride and then one fine day it shows you the finger and asks you to deal with it. It was something like that when I first met you. There was this girl with eyes so expressive and like diamonds that you would stake all your wealth on them to get another look and hair so smooth and as long as the winter night... with the smile that would melt away the last remnants of anger in your heart caused due to her immense stupidity and stubbornness. But quite frankly, you find a lot of girls like that in this world and a majority of them are sure to turn out to be shallow and (pardon your grace) dumb. Despite these mental cautionary notes, from the moment I met you, something told me that we are gonna be more than just colleagues. But never was I ready to start a serious relationship of any sort for that matter.

The feeling you give to the world: A fun, easy going girl from a well to do family, over cautious about the way you look, giving utmost importance to what people would think about the way you present yourself and absolutely loves to be the center of attraction. It is even reflected in the way you pose for a picture. The way you dress up every day, the way you carry yourself and the funny accent you have when you speak your native tongue, all points to one inescapable fact (if I were to judge you just by your looks) a typical high class girl who worries more about the size of her bosoms and green of her nail polish, than about what goes around her. This thought din't change that much after those long coffees we had during our first days. Your shopaholic nature and craving for horoscope confirmed the ‘Indian version of the dumb blonde’ in you. But it took lesser time and more conversations between us, for me to realize that you were more than just looks, with a deep sense of mystery which if pondered into, would be an utter unnecessary waste of my time. Nevertheless, I was relieved to find out that you were more than just looks. I was actually surprised at the level you confided in me right from the beginning (never realized I had that effect on girls J). But when I sensed that your ‘best friend’ considered it some kind of competition when he saw me with you, I decided to cut down on the talks. Why hurt... or get hurt for that matter.

Every morning you started our conversation with the same question “How do I look?” and every morning I would just smile. Well, here is what I think: You are undoubtedly one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. Stylish, confident and sure of yourself. Wonderful sense of dressing and definitely knows to make a first impression. Personally, I feel you could be on the ‘chubbier’ side of things (if you catch my drift). Will definitely fall in love with your hair at first sight. Eyes say a lot more than your words. Though I have caught a devil’s glimpse, I have not ‘observed’ enough to comment on… you know what all. Have a wholesome laugh, but seldom hear it due to unwanted reservations. Traditional wear suites you more than western clothing. Looks ravishing in saree and open locks. A closer look reveals signs of anorexia. I believe there is a hidden animal in you waiting to pounce, but only in front of the person you trust most. Very curvaceous and even a blind man will admire your beauty. Everyday you look beautiful than the day before and your smile comes as a balm to a troubled soul. Totally unwanted and fruitless boasting, which won't get me anywhere, if you ask me. I hate saying this, but I don’t find the need to comment on something that is as visible as light itself. Besides, you look a darling when irritated. I wouldn’t miss that look on your face for anything.

I wish we could stay in touch, though I know it wouldn’t be possible as ‘karma is a bitch’ and my karma takes me elsewhere and I hate mobile phones. But I shall come to see you when the time is right and when I need those long talks with you. Though it might appear that I am appealing you to mend your ways, I am not asking anything of you as it would be futile. Stay the way you are. You are good that way.

Signing off,

Yours always Unfaithfully…"

# Needless to say this letter IS FICTITIOUS

I am From The 80s and Damn Proud Of It

Yes, I am from the 80’s. I am from that decade when computers were still a baby, mobile phones were still on the design board and cable television in a middle class Indian home was a distant dream. I am from that age when fathers did not ‘send their kids to their room so that they could think about what wrong they had done’, instead, they used to rip off the meanest branch from the nearest guava tree (a rarity today) and let their kids have it so that ‘the wrong’ happened just one time (and later a biryani to remind you of their love). I am from that age when the Sunday evening movie on Doordarshan was the only time a movie was aired on the national television and 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. were the happiest in a kid’s day when they aired Mickey Mouse and Duck Tales on DD2. I am from that age when a kiss from your mother and a smile from your father were the greatest gifts you could get for winning a prize in school. I am from that age where you woke up to a kiss from your mother on your birthday and you dint know the meaning of ‘birthday party’.

I am from that age when mothers had premonitions that their sons would need a good pair of uniform for the annual school day, as they should look their best when collecting an award in front of the whole school. I am from that age when mothers used to spend their Sundays scrubbing off the last ounce of the darkest dirt from their sons’ uniform only to be made dirty on the following Mondays (not because washing machines were not available, but they just couldn’t do their job).

I am from that age where 50 rupees was the greatest luxury a teenager could have. It meant that next week he could actually take an auto home from the nearest bus stop and still afford a snack with his mates after the evening tuition. I am from that age where evening rain in school meant just one thing. Football!!! I am from that age where the first time you get cable television in your home was after the 10^th standard exams. I am from that age where parents are happy with the marks you score and don’t bother about their neighbor’s children’s marks. I am from that age where passing your Physics exam in school meant that you are assured to get more than 80% for the board. I am from that age where a 300ml bottle of Pepsi was sufficient to quench the thirst of 5 friends. I am from that age when a desktop with 6.3GB hard disk and 64MB RAM was the ‘latest model’ you could get in your teens. I am from that age where bicycles were your friend for life and a ride in an auto rickshaw was a luxury you could not afford. I am from that age when a balcony ticket cost you 30 bucks and pop corn just 10.

I am from that age where teens knew the meaning of the words ‘punctuality’ and ‘patience’ because there were no mobile phones to ‘text’ or call someone waiting for you. I am from that age when the first mobile phone you got was during the second year of college and that too the basic set with just calling and texting facilities. I am from that age when you had to rely on YOUR communication skills to find your way to a place and not the GPS on your mobile. I am from that age where you could get enough petrol for 3 days for just 30 rupees and still the bike won't go on reserve. I am from that age when your best friends, including girls, dint give a damn if you wished them for their birthday or not. I am from that age where your friends used to tell you ‘Don’t worry man I got your back’ and they actually meant it. I am from that age when you could tell your friend ‘You are wrong’ and needn’t worry about him misunderstanding your intentions. I am from that age where young adults don’t mind travelling in general compartments of trains and prefer the road side bundy to a star restaurant everyday of the week and twice on a Sunday.

Most importantly, I am from that age which believed and still believes that, ‘Whatever that doesn’t kill you just makes you stronger’. So take caution before messing with me or anyone from the 80s. Yes, I am from the 80s and damn proud of it.

The Fetish For Abbreviations

By the end of my college days (despite having a job in hand), the obvious question lingering my parents' minds was, What Next? "When are you scheduling your GRE?" My dad asked me out of the blue. How would he understand the ecstasy and sense of accomplishment an 'engineer' feels when he has managed to pass all his subjects with just a week's prior preparation. Now he wants me to do Masters in a discipline which I got my Bachelor's degree in the most 'undisciplined' way. "Sorry Dad. Maybe when monkeys start using tools..." (a smile was all that was evident to him though). "I had saved money for your MS, but maybe now I would invest it in something". "You do that Dad. You should know a bad investment when you see one (by now)". There ended my tryst with MS and to live the "American Dream" the rest of my life.

After that came the question of CAT. I had to show that I was interested in something other than a software job. So during family functions, I would play the 'Padawan' to the masters in the family who would lecture me how to go about getting an MBA. (sorry cousins... no disrespect meant). It served the purpose for 3 years, since I traveled home utmost twice a year and the probability that I met up with any of my relatives was close to zero (since most of them were located at different time zones and my time zone ensured that tickets were impossible to get when they traveled home). But I did burn my hands on CAT once. The day was unforgettable. (My 'friend's' engagement). There, she indirectly applied for a visa to a 'cleaner, whiter' place, here I was sitting in a dingy Mumbai classroom surrounded by guys and girls glued to the monitor pondering over the answer to an English passage, half of the words used in which would invite a comment "What the f*** does this mean!!!!" I was done with 'THE CAT'. After that I never dared to think about IIMs let alone "beyond IIMs" ;).

My troubles did not end there. I was happy with the 'work' I used to do, especially since my leaves were approved every time I raised them (most were for a period of not less than 10 days), I got to play football almost everyday and when my team lead realized my 'potential' to lead a team, my life was made. I could practically 'allocate' work to my team to 'optimize' the efforts and 'maximize' the output (you learn the true meaning of these three quoted words, your life is set in any services industry). In short I was paid to travel, play and party as long as I made sure that 'Delivery was not impacted'. But by that time, my friends started flying to other countries as "Onsite Coordinators" AKA "ONCs". I, being a son who seldom hides anything from my parents and also being someone who grew tired of finding 'stuff' to talk to my folks back home who called me twice a day, divulged this fact to them. But the biggest heart breaker was when the counter question came from my mom, who was always at the brink of tears when I left home from the yearly visit. "Mom!!! You want me to go thousands of miles away from you?" "It is OK son, now is the time to make a few savings. After all you must get married within a year or at the maximum two".

Now I was in serious trouble. Marriage within two years? Housing loan, car loan, kids (only if they could come in loan), utility bills, tuition fees (I myself hated going to those chambers, now I was to bring some poor soul into this world to do the same) no more travelling or trekking, no more football, no more late night drives... all these came gushing into my mind. Having spent considerable time with the opposite sex I was well aware of the disasters one could commit. Some pointers to those budding young minds in search of 'true love'. Once you find your 'true love' you...
1. Must never look at another girl's face in an 'admiring' way. Be extra careful with your eye ball movements.
2. Be ready to spend your weekends and your evenings in malls and shops and be ready with "this looks good on you honey", "the red is too red" (goes for all the colors) "the color of the dress really highlights your eyes", "don't look at the price tag, if you like it, take it". Before you throw the last comment, be sure YOU have had a good look at the price tag. (Thanks Dad, for looking after me every last week of the month for a year after I started my career earning more than you did for the first 20 years of your life)
3. Play the above dialogues in an infinite loop as long as you go shopping.
4. Never forget dates. The day you first met your 'true love'. The day you first said 'I love you', the day you had your first kiss (if you turn out to be that odd lucky bastard) and most important of all the day your 'true love' was born.

Enough of pointers. Let's get back to the problem at hand. I was to be chained forever in the 'sacred' bond of marriage within two years and here I was managing my finances for a month at a time (thankfully by myself now). Something had to be done. That something was done. You know, nowhere in economics is it said that market value decides the inherent strength of an economy. But in India, marriages are decided by the market value of the groom. Here I was working in an MNC, with a highly probable chance to live the 'American Dream' either as an ONC or after GMAT (another CAT, only this time you get to burn your hands in front of the whole world, especially the Chinese), my market value was high enough. Not as much as those who had BTech from IITs and then MBA from IIMs (the four abbreviations, parents are ready to kill for in the middle class India), but still pretty high.

So what did I do. I said the same thing to my parents and my boss back at work. "I AM QUITTING MY JOB".

Six months of unemployment and 20 kilos of extra body mass later, here I am, at peace, enjoying a cloudy summer afternoon in my home, all alone, thinking what is wrong with all these people, running behind luxuries that will only lead them into a never ending spiral, and of course enjoying my mom's food. But the count down to the obvious question has already begun in the remote corners of my parents' minds.

What Next? Banyan trees, starvation and penance have become too old fashioned (definitely starvation!!!!). The answer may lie where water and earth meets and you have divine air and the drink of Gods filling your mind, when you ponder over the ultimate meaning of cycle of life and death. Confused? Think Goa, booze and green.

Death

Death - a truth which all of us must confront someday or the other. When life seems to go all good and strong, when all the worries seems to diminish in the fading evening light, death strikes as a rude reminder of what is in store for all of us in the future. No matter how much we earn, no matter how much good we do to people we know and love or to complete strangers or even if we decide to walk the ‘dark’ side of life, we all end up dead one day. The culmination of all things good and bad is death. It has often left me wondering, the whole make up of the lives we live. What is the purpose of living an honorable life, finding happiness in our puny success or feeling dejected when we fail, when the end of us all happens the same way? What difference does it make, if we loot and plunder, have all the pleasures of this world, no matter how devious the means might be, no matter whom all we hurt in the process, or we lead an honorable, responsible life?

Not to give this write up a religious taste or to repeat the classic fallacy of ‘devil sights scripture for his means’, but for the sake of argument… take the case of two of the greatest epics ever written in the history of mankind. The Mahabharata and the Ramayana.

In the end, when it was Duryodhana’s turn to die, he had neither remorse nor regret. On the contrary he was happy that he lived his life purely on his terms. Waged wars at his will. Slept with all the women he wanted to. Engaged in all forms of ‘forbidden pleasures’ and yet he attained moksha and got a seat in Swarga. The reason given for this end was that all through his life he followed his ‘kshatriya dharma’ to the last steadfast syllable. Now to take the case of his cousin Yudhishtira, he was considered to be the epitome of dharma. The man never lied in his life, was steadfast and truthful in his service to his elders and had all the good you could think of in a man. Yet, he was made to suffer through his entire life, was tested by his father Yama at every turn of his life. After the Great War, the Pandavas were left to rule the kingdom, but with no one by their side. All their beloved, including their very own sons were killed in the battle. He even had to endure the death of his brothers one by one, not in the field of battle like a Kshatriya could wish for, but on their journey towards ultimate salvation. When finally he reached Swarga he was surprised to see all his cousins whom he and his brothers had slain in the name of dharma enjoying the peace and tranquility and also the luxuries of Swarga.

Turn the page of history to Ramayana now. Here we have yet another epitome of incorruptibility and manhood. ‘The’ Ram himself. Yet, after the entire fiasco of battle of good over evil culminated in his getting back Sita from Ravana, which was done to save her chastity and his honor, at the mindless squabbling of some of his subjects, he forced his wife to undergo the test of chastity by sitting on a bed of fire. This act defies logic and defeats the total purpose of the war he waged. This humiliation was repeated on Sita two separate times at the end of which she left him and wandered off into the forest.  I still wonder why the men of old forge stories like this which leave you intriguing about what the right path is. Why do they leave the story in a big question mark where you are forced to question the motive of the hero, who otherwise is supposed to be as good as good can be? Why do they stain these immortal characters with the fallibility and frailty of a normal human? Ultimately what purpose does telling such a story serve?

While Mahabharata gave birth to one of the, if not the greatest manipulators in the history of mankind – no one, mind you no one, whether it is in fact or fiction comes close to this character, Krishna – Ramayana gave birth to the idea of the ideal person and the ideal kingdom. Mahabharata has single handedly redefined all the actions that were performed and that will be performed time immemorial by one single phrase “it is not the path, but the aim that is important and ultimate”.

Yet, all the upholders of justice and the ‘doers of good’ have invariably suffered and all the stories of the old are explained in such a way as to end their suffering. Somehow they have lead us to believe that the end of all suffering is salvation and happiness. But the other side of the story is that the perpetrators have their way throughout their life, enjoy all the earthly pleasures and glories, except when the moment of truth beckons for the victory of good over evil. Though good and evil are totally based on perspective, except in rare cases where a logical explanation cannot and must not be sought for certain heinous crimes, we shall leave that topic for another time.

Coming back to where I started, if the ultimate end of all the things, good and evil, as we know it is death, why should we bother to live according to the norms set by the society? Why should status, prestige, family honour, be reasons or rather priorities while taking decisions which set the course of our lives? When the norm of the world is increasingly bending towards ‘the survival of the fittest’ principle, for man and beast alike, why should emotions and considerations for others rule the day? Don’t you think it is justified if we act selfishly to meet our own gains, if we disregard the rights of others and go to any extend to get what we need?

Phrases like “It’s not who you are, but what you that defines you” and “It’s not when you die but how you live your life that counts” have no meaning in the long run. Time is a cruel manipulator who with one turn of its spoke can undo whatever (good or bad) we have done. It can make it seem like we have never existed. History, as it is told, is at the mercy of the living who can twist the facts to their liking to make a saint look like a sinner, a tyrant like a humanitarian and a homicidal pedophile, the caretaker of lost children. Examples are as clear as dust kicked up by horses’ hoofs on a dusty road, in our rich history. I refrain from quoting any. In short, all that we do has a better chance of either being forgotten or twisted for someone else’s prerogative rather than being told in its element and in its essence. A century or so from now, any one of our young officers in the army (for example) can be quoted in one of the passing conversations as a brave soul who kept his country above his personal gains and vendetta, or as a cruel officer who was a part of or who oversaw a genocide somewhere. Both these might be true. But the fact is by committing the genocide, he might have been executing an order, he might have been forced due to some unknown or unheard factors. All this lies at the mercy of the ‘story teller’. Our cases are no different.

We are caught in this life long spiral, where we are forced to make a living for ourselves, forced to live a respectable life and forced to do what other people do and continue doing all these mundane activities for our entire lifecycle until the spiral finally ends in our death. Anarchy seems to be the most logical and just of all.

I am not lost or desperate or emotionally disturbed. But I would love to be disproved of the above opinion I have put forth. If any of the readers have a counter argument pray you share.

2011... In Retrospection

2011… what should I say about the year that was? To summarize, I wish I could relive it again. In the words of my friend “Ettinabhuja, Chandra Tal, Kumaraparvatha”. These words might seem just gibberish to you. But these mean a lot more, than I can explain it in the form of words, to me and some people very close to me. I am not even trying to capture the essence of these words in this post as it would be nothing short of futile. Rather I would focus on how the year meant more to me than these three words.

The year couldn’t have begun any better. Alone… En route Pune to Bangalore to Trivandrum by bus. As expected, the entire year I was travelling... sometimes for fun, sometimes for adventure and a couple of times for football. Picking up the bag and just walking out of the front door to places unknown and unseen to me became a habit. The sight of my backpack in office became so common that it prompted my colleagues to ask me the question “Where to today?” more than often. All this said and done, travelling was only a part of what happened during the year. A location shift, quitting my job and falling in love (and still in love) with a girl whom I have never even met till now (more in love with the IDEA of such a girl) being the other highlights I can remember. All in all, if someone asked me to point out one thing I would like to forget that happened last year, I would reply him, “I guess it’s already done as I don’t remember!!!”

But the essence of the year lies in these small instances which makes you feel special and these tiny hints that people give you which makes you feel proud about yourself, maybe like an unexpected reward from your company, a letter from your manager, a story that makes you idolize someone instantly, the hint of sadness and that tear your friend tried to hide in vain when you had to leave, the words “I will miss you” said right from the heart, the words “You are the best” from a lifelong friend and last but not the least, the words “I have faith in you” coming from the people you love. Yes, I had it all last year. As I pen down these words, there are a lot more that I would like to add to the previous list, but I am exercising caution. I realize that this post has just been a teaser and I am ending it in an abrupt halt. But this is intended to a select few who will understand every word of what is written above.

I know not what the year ahead has in store for me. It would be folly to think that it would be smooth and welcoming, seeing the tasks I have at hand. All that I can do is hope the year holds something promising ahead. So far everything seems going well. But as I so often say, life has its way of showing the finger when you least expect and then asking you to deal with it. Well, if and when that happens, I shall smile and remember the three words my friend told me... “Ettinabhuja, Chandra Tal, Kumaraparvatha”.

It is Funny that You are Never on the Losing Side

  Last night, my friend and I had a long walk through the deserted streets in our neighborhood. And of course, as usual, we were at our rebellious best, questioning the very foundations of the typical Indian society and what followed was a lot of revelations and some resolutions. What better way to question the ‘typical Indian society’ other than to have a conversation on arranged marriage and love marriage. The current generation is at the verge of a revolution, where they start questioning the established norms of an Indian family. They are only too casual in using the questions ‘What’s wrong with it?’ ‘Why should I do it just because everybody else is doing it?’ and many more. But when you come to think of it, every generation has come through their own rebellious face sometime or the other in their life and later have accepted their ‘fate’ as any ‘law abiding citizen’ might do. But somehow I get the feeling that things are different with this generation (meaning, the young adults of today). The circumstances around them are changing so radically that factors like ‘he/she comes from a good family’, ‘they are rich beyond your wildest imagination’ (had to think twice before including this ;)  ) ‘since the family is good the boy/girl is deemed to be the perfect match for us’ have become redundant. Look around you. You will find examples walking out of their door every morning living perfectly normal, respectable lives. And I can assure you, that you might not have thought about ‘what kind of a family he/she comes from’, ‘will he/she be of the same caste and will our horoscopes match?’ etc. The thoughts would be more likely in the lines of (if you are looking for a serious relationship) ‘I wonder if he/she is going out with someone’ OR ‘I wonder if he/she has a respectable job’… the more logical questions.

     The reasons for this change? The current generation lives in an India, which is no longer bound by boundaries of language or caste or religion (a very bold statement indeed and it might be too early too). India is undergoing a true ‘Indianisation’ within itself. Meaning, it is moving from a confluence or a collection of states which is bound together by a common constitution and a set of laws, to the true concept of one nation. No matter how hard you deny that this situation never existed, I would urge you to ask yourself. I refrain myself from providing a number of obvious yet disturbing examples to support my point, but I can certainly provide you examples to prove that the situation is changing.

Step out of your front door and you will hear at least 3 different languages than your own. Your neighbor might be an orthodox veggie Gujju girl having a Punjabi boyfriend. The family next door is more likely to a Tam Brahm boy married to a Muslim girl than your normal ‘same caste, same religion, product of arranged marriage’ couple. What do you find in common in all of them? They have fights every single day, throw curses at each and reach for their partners throats with every intention to kill. But then again, look closer. You also find love, respect and adoration. You will find that they love each other for the person they are. After a big fight at night, they still wake up the next morning finding each other attractive. The boy finds the girl so peaceful and innocent in her sleep that he is teleported back to that very moment when he actually fell for her. The girl realizes that it was he and no one else, who stood by her when the entire world was scorning at her. That’s enough to get things back to normal. Of course, I needn’t mention that absolutism is just a myth that exists in an Utopian society. There is also a chance that you might actually wake up one day to find that the Punjabi guy murdered the Gujju girl because he was sick and tired of her orthodox ways and her paneer curries (there is always a possibility you know).

Now look at the other scenario. You find yourself to be the neighbor of the typical arranged marriage family. Highly unlikely to hear any fights. Equally unlikely to hear a hearty laughter as well. No loud music, no passionate voices. All in all, ‘a well behaved’, nonexistent neighbor. When they make their ‘blue moon’ appearance, you are not likely to throw a second ‘curious’ glance at them. The wife is a silent shadow, who does her husband’s bidding to the last syllable and unsurprisingly the husband is your normal chauvinistic moron who has an aura of pride and superiority (for his own personal reasons). The reverse is also quite possible these days, with the kind of ‘women empowerment’ that is going on. Pretensions become the order of the day, simply because they don’t know what his/her partner wants. They are totally confused about each other’s expectations. And by the time they figure some of them out, they already have a couple of kids and they have to think about their future. Where did they live their lives here? In fact most of the arranged marriages survive due to this confusion which is later followed by the resignation to one’s fate. Life is a vicious maze of exceptions and expectations my friends. Though I have travelled through a road and have showed you many sceneries along the way, this is not the only way you have. 

The onus lies on you to find your road. The one which you will take for your journey forward. If all that you find is a dusty path to start with, don’t be upset. Just realize that there are many who have started from dead ends and had to build a road out of nowhere, and still others who started perfectly with no bumps at all on the way and fell into a ditch, or (God save their souls) fell off a cliff. But at the end of the day you are never on the losing side. Why? I shall leave that to your (perverted) imagination.

Passionate and Inspired

Anger, love, jealously, ecstasy, revenge, happiness, sadness, determination, arrogance, confidence, overconfidence, respect, adoration... the list is endless. I can go on like this. It is really difficult to capture the full range of emotions that runs through your mind. I mean, just take your normal day. You go out on a walk not thinking anything in particular. But as you walk, you start thinking 'stuff' up. A sea of emotions starts coming into your subconscious. Sometimes triggered by the things that you see around you, sometimes by the things that has been bothering you for quite a while or sometimes by things you dont have control over. Or maybe not even any of these. Just an idea that has captured your imagination to the extend of obsession/ to the extend of madness. It starts growing like a virus in your mind that it consumes all your space. You start shrinking in the very presence of the idea. The idea becomes you...you become the idea. It starts consuming your time with futile thoughts, various 'ifs' and 'buts' start to grow out of nowhere. You start seeing endless possibilities and risks in that one idea. Then suddenly with one snap of your fingers you return to reality. I wouldn't mind if the reader thinks (at this point of time) that I am slowly loosing my mind.

 But tell me you have never dwelt on the immense possibilities of a stupid idea that suddenly emerged out of nowhere and fantasized on 'how nice if it were real!!!' Let's take it one step further... what if a remote possibility exists that the idea (let's use 'thought' from now) could actually become reality one day, if all the variables in the equation are taken care of? There my friends is where passion comes from. But sadly, passion can only take you as far as how passionate you actually are about the thought. Absolutism is always and on any day better than feelings stained with dyes of other feelings. Absolute love not stained by judgement, absolute hatred not stained by sympathy and the absolute feeling of revenge not stained by the feeling of weakness. All these are powerful forces which can drive a reasonable guy away from his reason. It can lead a person to make the most shocking of choices if ever presented before him/her. But for the 'protagonist' there is always a reason behind his choice and that for him/her always makes sense. This reason is what we call inspiration.

You draw inspiration from various 'events' around you. It can be an act of love, an act of kindness, an act of cruelty, a feeling of sympathy. The stronger the source of your inspiration the stronger you feel to work towards your goal. If your passion and inspiration are complementary, there is no force on this earth that can stop that idea from becoming true (as long as you are true to yourself). If you are really passionate about something, my friends, you will find the source of your inspiration in the journey of life. Since life always has its way of surprising us at every corner, you are most likely to find your inspiration from the most unexpected place, people or whatever 'variables'.

I stop this nonsensical babbling with another thought, and a warning. What if your ultimate source of inspiration is a woman and her life? And... by living your passion you take one step closer to realizing her?

Warning: (In this particular case) Don't count your chickens before they hatch. 

Uncomfortably Numb

The 'problem' with travelling so often is that it soon grows on you. It grows on you so much that the thought of a desk job, or getting stuck in a single location is enough to start a headache and send your head spinning. The 'problem' with travelling particularly to mountains is that they keep calling you back.By 'call' I mean the voice of a canary, the voice of a girl with the most beautiful face whom you wished a coffee with, an authoritative coach, the voice of your friend you hear after you have downed 4 ales, that whatever be the conversation he cannot be wrong at that time (even if he had banged your girlfriend in the past). In short... persuasive (should have saved you the trouble in the beginning). The idea of living out of a back pack, waking up to the chirping of birds, the cool mountain breeze on your face and the roaring of the wild river in the background is exhilarating. The fact that not a month back I had the perfect days of my life, only makes the sting more potent. I mean, it is not everyday that a southie like me gets a chance to wake up in the Himalayan valley and take a dump on the river side with the ice cold mountain wind blow right up your arse (you get the picture). But that's not what makes it exhilarating (although the thought is scary 'coz shitting was not easy back then). Imagine waking up in a tent with the only constant clue of civilization being the car you travel in and the curt smile of your host standing with a cup of tea, welcoming you to the beginning of the new day.

Himalayas... If you listen carefully, the mountain winds will tell you stories of the old. Stories of courage and sacrifice and hardships and love. The flowing river... the only life line for the people living there. For us as well, in those days. Nature shows you, who you really are. How insignificant you are in this whole design. One higher wind gradient could have triggered a landslide, a little higher temperature could have melted the glacial rivers and flooded the roads earlier than expected. Every moment of our life... nature's charity. She was at her arrogant best. I was nothing. I am nothing. The moment you realize this, you realize there is a lot of room for improvement. Improvement in the way you live your life, the way you treat others. Experiences are there to be seen and lessons there to be learned in every breath you take in the company of nature. You start valuing life. That's when you realize you need a reason to do, whatever it is that you wish to do. Money though a necessity seems insignificant enough, to search for another reason to continue doing the work we do.

 I was happy back then. I felt secure in the remotest part of my country, despite the fact that, that week Andhra Pradesh was burning due to Telangana, Delhi was on high alert due to terror threats and I looked nothing short of a terrorist with my long beard and locks. In fact, I felt nothing could go wrong as long as I was on the road. Half broke, fighting for every breath I took, trying hard to stay awake due to fatigue, yet... nothing could go wrong... nothing did. It was perfect. Perfection that I cannot draw any parallels with. That sense of complete happiness which has come so often in my yesteryears but seldom come nowadays, not more than a teaser even if they do. I am blank now. A kind of numbness. Incompetence to think intelligently. Like the pool of thought is draining slowly away from my mind. Nothing that I am doing right now makes sense. Waking up, dressing up in 'business formals', clocking hours of doing nothing in office. I am not sure if it is because of the emptiness that filled me after the trip. I would like to think not. It is deeper than that. I do understand that absolute happiness for the entire lifetime is a myth. But whenever things get out of hand I know the mountains and the rivers and the forests will be there to cool my mind and guide me to peace.

But inner peace...that is something that I would have to find myself.

The Trip That Was-Part 1

Probably it is too late to write about something that happened a year ago. But that is what memories are for. To be recollected down the lane, to make us smile when we are sad, to give us inspiration when we need the most and most important, to make us feel good about ourselves.

As I sat chatting with my friend about the year that passed, my mind was carried away to that scorching summer of '10, when three guys packed their bags and left the comfort of their homes, to witness one of the largest human gatherings that has ever happened in the past, nor might never happen in the future. Nothing did they have other than tickets to reach their rendezvous point and the tickets back home from the rendezvous point. For a brief period of time, they were joined by another rogue, who risked his neck, by travelling ticketless overnight because of another rogue in the pack, who had booked tickets for him, but it was for the wrong day. The latter was me :)

This post is not about taking the reader through a detail of the trip as it would be impossible and absolutely humiliating to my ego. This is about a few re-affirmations made during the duration and also a realization that human limits is where we define them to be.

Seldom do we feel that nothing can go wrong, everything is perfect and "I have the whole world at my feet". Seldom do we have a spring in our step and seldom are we not burdened by the umpteen thoughts that keep running in our mind like express trains and we standing right in front of it. How ironic when you realize that the cities were alien, notorious for fraudsters, the cash factor was thin and we had not a familiar soul around us. Ironic also because all the 'rogues', including the 'part-time' one, had their lives pretty screwed up at that time, either in the personal front,professional front, or... it was just screwed.

In the end, it was 10 days of pure ecstasy, a test of endurance, a fight against the harsh forces of nature and a fight against the inner urge to succumb to the comfort loving 'civilized' 'city'zens whom we had left behind along with the shiny shoes and ties and computers. Did I find my true self during those days? I definitely hope not...because no matter how much kick ass those days were, I love my parents. But, God I wish to have another of those kick ass holidays!!!

What makes the Beautiful Game so Beautiful

What is it that makes football so special? Being an ardent fan, I have pondered over this like a zillion times, but in vein. A bladder with air covered in animal skin. That’s all that is. But it has millions of followers all over, maybe even more than most of the religions. But what is it that makes football so special? Why are people so passionate, so fanatical about this game? What makes football the most popular game on Earth? I have no answer for this.

The pure ecstasy that fills you when you play the game can only be felt and not described. You have to live it to understand it. The feeling is nothing less than flying a jet, or having an orgasm. Every time, the game entices me in a way least expected. The feeling of absolute freedom, as if you have nothing to lose sets in as soon as you take to the field. But, if it’s a game that matters then the scene changes. Winning at any cost. Spill your blood, break your bones, I don’t care. Push your limits. No game challenges you so much, to push yourself. No other game makes you realize your limits and urges you to break them at the same time. No other game can make you feel wise and stupid at the same time. The pride you feel when you succeed, the sadness that engulfs you when you lose, the anger that encompasses the mind when things go bad, the guilt you feel for a mistake made, the disappointment you endure for letting your team down are all absolute. Nothing else lingers in these feelings.

The game grows in you like the taste of beer. But once you are ‘addicted’ to it, there is no getting out. No matter how hard you try. I tried hanging up my boots a year ago. But even after a relatively long gap of 8 months when I took to the field, I found myself playing with the same intensity and craziness as I used to. Nothing changes. Your body may grow old, your outlook might change, you may grow as a person, but whatever it might be, once you are on the field, you true self presents itself without any curtains.

Saying so much about the game has left me wanting to play the game. I am off to where I belong. Only if I could do this for every single day of life, until I die.

I Start Writing Again

Yes. It feels like the right time. Been 2 years since I blogged. I dint know that my account would be active for so long. When I look back at my posts, it feels kinda good. It feels kinda good to know that these things happened in my life. These things made me sad, made me laugh, made me stronger, made me the person I am now, be it for good or for bad. Experiences maketh a man, they say. I have had aplenty of these in the past 2 years. A plenty. Those who know me, would certainly vouch on that one.

This one, is just an intro kinda stuff. No 'stuff' in it. I hope to post regularly, as regularly regular can be. Thats all for now. :)

Memoirs of Bachelorhood

Don’t get me wrong ’cause am still in the same phase of life. Delightful bachelorhood. Where responsibilities are important but not crucial and when we have the freedom to do, if I may, whatever we want. I have and still am enjoying my days as a bachelor. And since I am in a new city I have virtually all the freedom I ever need. Yesterday my friends and I went to Lonavala… a hill station nearby. Huh! Hill station. Saw many hills but other than that I dint get any feel of it. The sun beating down relentlessly on us. Ruthless, right from the very beginning. We reached the place and took a ride to a nearby spot. I don’t remember the name nor was there anything cool to see. Except for the view of the valley which was breath taking. Finally something to raise my spirits… a tattoo shop. Been searching for it since leaving my home. Of course ’twas a temp one. I decided to go ahead with it. It started off pretty well. A chain on my right bicep. After an hour I was still sitting there in the sun and the guy was painstakingly tattooing my arm. Finally done. I had to let it dry. Patience is a virtue. Not for me. Left the place with my sleeves up.

My arm on my friend’s shoulder I walked in the sun to let it dry. Finally satisfied that it had dried up I rolled down my sleeves. Then I let the adventurer in me take charge. As we walked down the highway we saw a steep hill by the side of it. Finally I got the chance to use my shoes to the fullest. It might seem a little silly but while buying my Woodland shoes I had hoped to go trekking at least once. The view from the top was just breath taking. Celebrated our victory with a few screams and a few clicks.

Trekking… tattooing… some of the few things that only a young adult bachelor would dare to do. Ok leave trekking…tattooing should fit that list. And still many more to come. Many many more….

Are These Really Necessary???

It was my last day in college today. Only exams after... Many of you would think that a sense of nostalgia would be taking over me now and that am gonna write about how am gonna miss those 'golden' days, those days I spend with my buddies basking lazily in the sun and so on and so forth. Wrong!!!! My feelings are quite contrary to this regard. I know at least 10 guys who feel the same way as I do. Until today, it was 2 weeks since I went to college. I missed my final arts day, sports day and a chunk of the long awaited 'demo' days. I remember that 2 to 3 years back I used to plan in my mind how MY demo days would go. Now when the time finally arrived, I slacked. No enthusiasm... no feeling. Truly, I don't regret not going to college or not participating in any of these events. Some guys in class came with autograph books. Others cried... Still others made promises of meeting up 5 years from now at some place etc... I don't mean to disrespect anyone but... BULLSHIT!!!!

I did not feel sad even as I left school. In fact the farewell was one big party, with only some teachers crying. But the days before the farewell, I was really sad and depressed. I was nostalgic, I felt all the ways I mentioned before. I agree that my college life did not reach my expectations. Or did I aim too high??? I'll never know. It doesn't really matter now, does it??? Four years just went like that.

Now I stand at the doorstep of a new world. I don't know what it holds for me. Well... that's future for you... You never know what it holds for you... Whatever it does am true to my heart when I say this... " Am ready for it. Take your best shot"

Bears, Bulls and Deers

A week more of class... Some in my class say they are sad to leave college. Some say they'll miss 'those golden days'. For a boy who has not been to any of the class tours, any arts festival and have just the required percent of attendance and too with a chunk of duty leave, I don't have to explain my 'emotions'.

At this junction I evaluate my last 4 years. What have I gained? What have I lost? What have I learned?

Gains... I have always been rich in the matter of friends and in the past four years I grew even richer. Frankly, I did not expect to find any true company out of my school. Though I found only a handful, they are still with me and am happy they happened. I believe that, except for boozing, smoking and having an affair, I, along with a friend of mine have done everything, anybody can imagine, and even more, one can do in a city like Trivandrum. The lessons learned from these experiences have certainly helped us become more mature and more wary of the world around us.

The past four years were a mixed curry for me. Disappointments happened in regular intervals, a large chunk of which came in the form of results. My college days turned out to be a bit of disappointing too, because, even though I tried I could never really enjoy my time there. In the beginning I used to go back to my school to find my peace. A sense of calm always filled me when I entered the gates. Never has any other place appeared so inviting to me. Who doesn't want to be in a place where you are known, loved and respected.

Lessons learned were plenty.The first and most important one was that emotions have no place in this world. It has been very difficult, but ever since, I have tried not to let any of my decisions be lingered by emotions. After this, I have done only things that I like, and have been officially labeled a 'rebel' for it. Another lesson I learned was that if you believe that you are right you must stick with it no matter what others think about it. This belief has seen me through a lot of really tough times, many of which were really unpleasant.

Unlike my other posts I was more serious in this one. I really want to write more and more in this regard... But I don't think am ready to share myself with you people. Maybe in the future...


And no am NOT writing this because of any particular event that happened recently and CERTAINLY NOT because any heart break or such stuff. Yeh be warned against asking me anything in this regard either personally or through comments. I MEAN IT!!!!!

BANG! BANG! BANGALORE!!!!

I know tis a little late for this post. Pardon me for the delay. These events happened 2 weeks back. They redefined the way I think on several subjects. It was one trip that opened my eyes and helped me take a giant leap towards nirvana
As i boarded the train, with my buddies, for Bangalore, the last thing on my mind was to get recommended for the Indian Navy. We found our coach and before getting on, as any passenger would do, checked our names on the list. But we went a bit further. Checked the whole list. Jackpot!!!! F19,F21,F22,F18.... These are not USAF fighter jets. These were our fellow passengers. Interesting journey lie ahead of us and we could not have asked for a better start. As the greenery sped past us outside we spent our time chatting and at times flirting with the F's.
Bangalore did not disappoint us one bit. It gave us more than we expected. Having arrived one day before the reporting day we had ample time to live the 'yeh dil mange more!!!' dream. Lodging was provided by our school mate, partner in crime, Adarsh A.K.A Pothan. Wonderful flat. A cool looking room mate...Norman. Come evening and so did the last member of our gang Bimal from NLSIU. Pothan's flat was near his college...Ramaiah College of medicine. Man!!! The whole time I spent in that campus I could not find one 'not good looking' girl. "Welcome to Bangalore city" was the chorus I heard in my mind when I saw them. The localites in the gang were unamused. As the sun set behind the tree tops we reached Ground Zero. Brigade Road. I don't know who named it, but whoever did had a wild imagination. Mc.D's, KFC's, Puma, Reebok, you name it and the place has it. After feasting our stomach and our eyes we moved on to a mall nearby. Garuda. There it stood spread eagled luring us towards it. The world is indeed a 'beautiful' place to be in if you know where you ought to be. We shopped a bit... A T shirt each for me and friend. But the bill was in 4 figures.


Every single day in B'lore we went to brigade and garuda, ate from Mc.D and KFC, ate umpteen number of 'softees' and did what every bachelor of our perspective would do.
Afer the 5 days of interview, the Navy guys told me to fuck off from Bangalore... While all others who dint get, complied, I refused. Stayed back for another day to satisfy the party animal inside me. I payed for it...big time. Before going back to my den I decided to book the return bus ticket. That was when I realised that the hungry animal in me had eaten away all my money. Not to worry 'cause I had my ATM card. Since twas an International debit card it was suppose to work in many bank counters. Unaware of which all, I entered the first ATM i saw. No luck. Then another and another... The same story. For the better or worse it got blocked. A wonderful start to my last day in B'lore. I returned and payed an advance. I still had to find the rest of the money. I decided to go to Pothan's as planned and think about this stuff later. We chilled that night. My other partner in crime could not join me 'cause his room mate got whacked in the head for tryn to be a hero.

The wise man, my dad, had asked me to take a check leaf with me just in case something like this cropped up. Next I turned to the one thing that has never let me down at such direst of situations. THE INTERNET. After locating the nearest branch of the bank, I resorted to the good old way to track it down. 'Ask'. The nearest branch turned out to be 13 Kms away from where I stayed. Since I was penniless I walked the whole way. After 55 minutes of walking viola there she lay, inviting... By the time I got back to Pothan's twas time for me to leave. We grabbed a quick lunch and I bid farewell to Bangalore with tears in my eyes and a solemn promise to return in the future. But that time with more cash!!!