Moving on...

Hello,

We have shifted...

All new posts at Our New Address

Announcing Protocollide, my new way of dealing with life.

And then, there were two..

It was the last time they met while she was still single..

They had met a couple of years ago. It all started as all of them do. She was nursing her wounds from a bad relationship that went worse, he was on the up and up in his life, having managed to salvage his soul from the deepest troughs in his life.
They met, things happened, sparks flew and before they knew, they were on.

Social mores and issues that affect every Indian relationship ensured that they didn't meet much, instead spending hours on the cellphone, discussing life's trivialities and having arcane discussions on how they would lead their lives, together.

After a few weeks, they'd moved on building their own little life together. She had overcome the things she was hurt about, while he was, on the up and up. A few weeks later, she managed to put her thinking cap on again, and felt that she wasn't up for a relationship and decided to end things there. He always felt that he's managed to pick himself up again when he'd fallen down, and he'd taken some hard ones. So he let things go.

She managed to get back to the same hole she'd climbed out of. Only now, the hole felt like a mount she had to climb all over again, just to make herself worthy of the man she'd scorned. And just like that, one day she's ready to get married, and guess what, it was fixed. She was getting married to the guy of her dreams. Only that her dreams had been superimposed with other images, playing mind games till her mind was numb, beyond disbelief, and above understanding.

Life moved on, and she was to get married in two weeks time. The time was right for the two of them to meet, and seek closure, for they had never truly sought it. He was running full speed in life, having moved through another relationship, while she managed to walk back hurriedly into the chasm she started out of. The last evening they spent together was spent discovering things about each other still.

He was still trying to imprint as many features of her face into his memory, for they hadn't met so often, and she'd be moving overseas once she got married. She wanted to know what was new to him and to his life. If still the same obtuse, off the way topics consumed his interest like there was no tomorrow.

They couldn't hold eye contact, for she still found it troublesome to look into them, lost as she'd get at the myriad emotions she saw out there. He found it funny, and could guffaw about it aloud, thinking to himself, even in today's day and age, you actually have a woman who has the patience to be worked up about holding eye contact. It was a classical romance between Ayn Rand's objectivism and Mills and Boons' topsy-turvy sordid tales, books they'd read and absorbed well.

While he dropped her back, the car stopped in the same dark alley he'd always dropped her, not because they fooled around in the back of his car, but she didn't want to get off where someone saw her and all that jazz.

She was going away, again, but this time it was for good. No turning back, no looking back.

It was the last time they met while she was still single.

He wanted to kiss her forehead, for the first time in their lives, and wish her all the best. Before he could do anything, she opened the car door, the dome light went on. He saw an elderly man passing their car, he wanted her to wait, but she'd already say goodbye.

He was left with a chasm of his own, all he wanted was to leave an imprint of what things were about, the times that they'd shared. All he had now was the memory of a relationship that'd changed the way he looked at things and at life, and a blog that would enable the people in his life to know at length about the one thing he'd cared for in recent times.

He had already moved on, but retrospect was the one thing he looked forward to.

Pujo

Have too many bongs around who bring a lot of happiness to me.. Here's raising one to them.

Dig A Hole To China?

Dig A Hole To China?
Originally uploaded by drp

Click on the photo and read what it says below. One of my fave fotographers in the world has something very interesting to say!

And bring the bloody bread out on the street.

Random Sprinkles

Needed to get these things into writing before they went out of existence, they are feelings and random thoughts that have occured lately. In essence, a piece of my mind, out here in the open.

Part rant,
part chant,
part thought,
part blot,
part dream,
part scream,
part acute,
part obtuse,
part singular,
part repeat,
that's just the beat!

Ok now that the on-the-spot crap poem contest is over, here it goes-

1. If you are used to look at women everyday with their eyeliner-mascara combo on, without it, they look frazzled, sleepy, unwashed, undefined homo sapiens to you. I don't know what's good- the fact that I'm almost always looking at their eyes, or that I've started noticing absence of black?
2. Exams here are like making your first boiled egg, you cook it as you go along. Whether I get exactly that or a delicacy to relish is something that I'll share in this very forum very soon.
3. Silence does Wonders. Its just that cacophnies have some rhythm.
4. People are so talented that they can make a dance drama out of a classroom desk and freestyle dance movements. You can just open your eyes to hear the music and extend your ear to feel the beat.
5. I've stopped following most conversations people have around me. I'm getting deafer (my blog, my words) by the day.
6. Photoshop for Dummies was written for me. Pity I still can't use it.
7. A camera would do me a world of good. I'm hungrily eyeing a Nikon D 40X.
8. Ab Dilli Door nahin!

Next Post from Delhi meri Jaan.

Horrorscope

अब पेश है आपके लिए आज का मीठा-मीठा राशिफल।

सबसे पहले Aries यानी मेष राशी-

आज सबकी आंखों का तारा होंगे आप। पर आपके looks से ज़्यादा लोगों का ध्यान आपकी बातों पर होगा। इसलिये सोच समझ कर ही मुँह खोलें। आज दिमाग मे झंझंनाते ideas आएंगे, पर थोडा ध्यान practical चीजों पर भी रखें।

अब Taurus यानी वृषभ राशी-

आज लोगों की ओर आपका व्यव्हार कुछ अलग ही होगा। आपके पास अगर मदद मांगने आये तो उसकी दुविधा सुलझाते हुए आपको अपनी किसी परेशानी से भी निकलने का रास्ता दिखेगा। तो आज दिल ओर दिमाग खुला रखें।

Gemini यानी मिथुन राशि-

आज चन्द्रमा आपके घर में प्रवेश कर रहा है, इससे आपका ध्यान कुछ रोमानी बातों की ओर रहेगा। दिन शायद सोचने समझने में ही निकल जाये, आज अपनी बूझ पर ही ज़्यादा भरोसा रखें!

Cancer यानी कर्क राशि-

आज दिन हैं मौज मस्ती और मज़े का। जल्दी से सारे काम पूरे कर दोस्तो के साथ इस ख़ूबसूरत दिन का लुत्फ़ उठाइये। आज कोई नही रोक सकता आपको।

Leo यानी सिंह राशि-

आज कोई अपनी परेशानी आपसे बाँटना चाहेगा, और आपको एक अलग सा ही अहसास होगा। आज का दिन जादुई साबित हो सकता है, बस आप तैयार रहिए!

virgo यानी कन्या राशि-

आज पूरा दिन दिल बस यही करेगा कि कुछ exciting किया जाये, पर शनि आपको थोडा संभल के चलने में मदद करेगा। दिन शायद इसी कशमकश में निकल जाये पर शाम को हर आरजू पूरी होगी, निराश मत होइए।

Libra यानी तुला राशि-

आज शायद रोज़ की ऐश पर थोड़ी लगाम लगे, सूर्य पूरे प्रभाव पर है। पर घबराइये नही, आज चन्द्रमा मिथुन में है, और इसका मतलब आप आज हर ऐसे काम को हाथ लगा सकते हैं जो आपके दिमाग की बत्ती जला दे।

स्कार्पियो यानी वृषिक राशि-

पिछले कुछ दिनों की मेहनत आज रंग लाएगी, आप बस पार्टी की तैयारी कीजिये। अब पार्टी घर पर दोस्तो को बुलाकर एक खामोश शाम हो, या किसी night क्लब में एक थिरकती रात, ये आज का आख़िरी महत्वपूर्ण निर्णय होगा। तो तैयार हो जाइए!


Saggitarius यानी धनुष राशि-

आज माथे से हर शिकन हटा दीजिए, बीती बातों को भूल जाइए। अब वक़्त आ गया है कि जिन्दगी में एक नयी शुरुआत की जाये।

Capricorn यानी मकर राशि-

आज चन्द्रमा का प्रभाव कम हो जाएगा और आपका मिजाज़ भी कुछ दुरुस्त रहेगा। मेरी मानिए तो कुछ वक़्त आज दोस्तो के साथ बिताईये।

Aquarius यानी कुम्भ राशि-

आज आप किसी को गड्ढे से निकालेंगे, या एक नयी दिशा दिखायेंगे। आपकी मदद इस बन्दे के लिए beneficial तो होगी, पर उनके कदम कहीँ लड़्खड़ा ना जाएँ, धक्का थोड़े आराम से दें!

Pisces यानी मीन राशि -

आज आप अपने आपको साहस की एक नयी ऊंचाई पर पाएंगे। कुछ अलग करने की चाहत पूरी करने के लिए आज का दिन ideal है।

The above is just what I wrote for an assignment on a lark, let's see how it goes. If you feel like try going by it today, and may be I would have infused a little hope in your life. :)

Ciao

Engdi..

Alright, I agree with you that the title of the post is something as redundant as anything you've seen this side of the English language, but that's what today's post is about.

I've lately been exposed to a section of Indian society which will be the face of the Indian communication Industry for the next few years at least. And there is an amusing and intriguing trend that has emerged off late.

Hinglish is something we've all known, used and accepted over a period of time. Right from colonial times, some words became so much of a colloquial for words in Hindi that we've accepted as a part of our vocabulary. I will not bore you with sleek vignettes of these words, but would move on to the meatier part of this post.

Like we've had proper and ghar ka names for times immemorial, we've also managed to convert the Hindi language to our advantage. Hindi gives us the additional cushion of using tu, tum and aap for the levels of comfort or familiarity that we share with a person. Some people have a habit of announcing and addressing themselves in plural in public (Hum abhi aa rahe hain). This is further amplified by the use of forms of Hindi language that we use at home and in public. These are specific and sometimes special forms that are used by you and me with our family members and close relatives. For example, the term "Mooh loos gaya" will not make any sense to you unless you either come from a specific part of western UP or are a blood relative of mine (If you are one or both, and still don't understand, come to me and I shall elaborate).

Khichdi Hindi is another form where the kind of Hindi spoken borrows heavily from the local dialect. Try speaking Hindi with a genuine bengali and they'll bowl you over like a rasogulla with their interchange of genders. Each masculine thing becomes feminine and vice-versa. Before my Bengali brothers, sisters, daughters (can't explain, don't ask), nephews and nieces take offense, let me assure them that I'm talking of certain Bengalis, including them for some instances.

Further, some people well versed in the matrabhasha are able to catch the nuances of any local vernacular and converse in that. My brothers from the Bihari heartland will agree that I manage to converse with them in their language, a combination of Hindi, Awadhi and magahi languages and local addendums. Equally so for people from South India and somewhat from the Cow belt as well.

I think I've established that the Hindi language, in its current form, exists in a manner suited to our demographic and psychographic profile. And that it has been stretched far enough in each direction for us to make any nonsense of it, and still pass muster as a Hindi-speaking Indian.

What however is the crux, and the intriguing pattern of events that we've managed to create for ourselves, can only be understood by listening to and contemplating upon it at length. I've been exposed to the English Language at both a professional and personal level extensively. As a BPO Mid-level manager, I was expected to have a reasonable command over the English language. This has only been further amplified by me joining a Media and Communication course, where English acts as the lifeblood of the connect, communicate and converge theme that we follow here. While I wouldn't call myself extremely qualified at the usage and correctness of it, I think I'll pass muster at most places in the world for my ability to communicate in it.

While listening to people, there are very significant things that you'll be able to make out. One is MTI or Mother Tongue Influence. This, as the name suggests, signifies the variations in pronunciation that people who have different mother tongues will have. Try getting a native Bengali speaker to do a tongue twister with the "Ra" and "Da" sounds, a person from Western UP to mix the "Ja" and "Za" sounds and you can go on all day thinking about their inability to sort these out. Examples for Bengalis - "Ghoda sadak par sarpat sarpat daudta hai" and for UPites, the single word Zanjeer will do.

Further, the kind of intonation and inflections used in one's mother tongue will also influence the way we speak English. This of course will happen more with people who are exposed to English in a functional way i.e. as a medium of instruction, and lesser with people like you and me who are kind of obsessed with its intricacies and lecherous correctness.

Or so I thought. Like I'm sure you know by now, I'm a part of a select group of people who form the crux and the face of the Indian Communication Industry today and tomorrow. The kind of English and its usage that you would expect from such a privileged lot, is evident. These are people who have conversed in the language for most of their lives, at least with friends, at school and also in official environments in some cases.

What is astounding is how some Hindiisms have become a part of mainstream language. For E.g., if a given person was to call someone to where they were, in our context, we will almost always say- "Come here, no?" No points for guessing where this takes roots from. And if you disagree, catch people around and yourselves doing this any given point of day or night.

This is further amplified when we directly translate Hindi to English to express our feelings. As part of a Canada based ISP, I thought it wise for the call agents in my team to talk about the oncoming Holiday season while assisting customers. One girl came up with this pearl which best exemplifies this phenomenon. She said to the customer, verbatim- "So, Mr. Smith, Christmas is over head, you must be really excited!" Ye to paani sar ke upar se nikal gaya.

If you think these are heightened examples of flawed individuals that I am posting here for making a point, be as observant as I've tried to be, and I'm sure you'll add more fat to the fire here.

I had another 3000 words on the subject, but since its real late in the night here in Bombay and kind of hot too, I think I'll stop.

More on this subject very soon. As soon as I can induce literary diarrhea again. For I'm passionate about it! Engdi and it's diverse ways.

Ciao

Photo Op..

What do you get when you charge a quintessentially Indian street festival with about 10,000 watts of Music that a DJ's belting out right there on the pavement?

Maharashtra's Janmashtami Celebrations. While I wasn't in the thick of things, both location-wise and IN the crowd, I got a whiff of what makes Maharashtra the state for Indian Street festivals.

Picture this (I rather hope I'd had a picture)-

A water tanker with an attached hosepipe, about 200 people on a smallish square, right here in Viman Nagar, a part of Pune that I inhabit. Music, people dancing like there's no tomorrow- locals and students of the nearby institutes gelling together like chalk powder and wet cheese. The Music ranged from the latest bollywood hits from Partner to International hits like Papi Chulo, the crowd swaying as enthusiastically to one as jumping to the other.

There were some things at work here that made this place, and this particular celebration so true in its essence. For one, the people around didn't know each other from hell, and they weren't checking for who's Marathi and who's not. Then, the best part was none of them had no idea of how to make a Human pyramid to get on top of where they needed to be. This resulted in their climbing aboard each others' shoulders, heads, legs et al and come tumbling down time after time. There were some heated arguments and people flying in all directions.

And then the time came, when an enterprising, bantom-weight teenager managed to get on top and reach the coveted Handi. From there on, it was rapture all the way.

Wish we had half the time and quarter the joie de vivre back home in anything we do!


Phew.. That, there, right up there, was my first attempt at writing an article. I know it kinda sucks, but I still wanted to give it and you a shot!

Post errr...

One of these days will be the last day that I start an entry with a false start.

I've been learning to write, well, more specifically how to write for mass consumption. And since this space is not intended for a mass audience, there you go.

Well, life's running along at a fine clip. The last few days were a whole lotta fun. My folks came to visit me for the times that were. The college, more importantly and thankfully the Director, decided that we needed a much-deserved break from the mayhem.

And what a time it was. To be with my parents in an atmosphere where they weren't getting all agitated with the lack of time and abundance of money that I spend whenever I'm not around them. To be able to have my father only talk about his ideas to turn this coming year into the most profitable ever, and not how I was wasting my time doing whatever I was doing, was good fun.

As I grow and mature, I think I'm kinda understanding why my father and me agree to disagree on most things- I know generation gap is the best way to put and portray it; but the difference is more on the surface than deeper for a change. My father is a man from Finance, if not for his lack of adeptness at speaking the queen's language, he would have been the Chief Equity Analyst at a Wall Street, atleast Dalal Street Firm ( I know each kid thinks that his father is the thing that's happened to mankind, but people who know me know that I don't). Now numbers are the driest things around, all fact, while what I do and want to do in life is all fiction.

So, as you can deduce and I can portray, that's just about it. Its about a sandpaper and a drip coming together. And what happens from there is the life of yours truly. I know that's a very crude way of putting it. And that's the way it should be. Metaphors that bring the truth home, and similies that take it there.

All I attempt to do is play with words, and all he does is predict numbers based on facts.

Facts and fiction are just that.

Observations

If you are the tallest person in a semi-formal group of people, and whenever you are spotted sitting below-chair level in a public area, people are more than likely to ruffle your hair and generally irritate the hell out of you.

Similarily, if you take nice, cute, soft potshots at people over a period of time, and at any time you let your guard down, you are bound to be hit with a dynamo the speed of the smelliest, dirtiest fart that you've encountered. It hits you with a vengeance and then it lingers.

I know that the people that I'm talking about, if they get down here to read this, people from the 1st paragraph will be bewildered and people from the second would think to themselves - " Wow, Blockhead, you figured it out."

Ciao

The only reason that I write here today is that the last 2 days have been a tad different from what I've been experiencing non-stop for the last 2 months.


I know this sounds rhetoric since you might be reading this just after or before my last post, but then life has had little to offer lately to relieve the feeling of ennui that I've had to live with.

2 days ago, I went to Bombay for realistiscally for the 1st time. (The last time I went, I was 6, and all that I remember is the boot house and some muddy memories of a dandia night in the suburbs).

Though I got to see most of Bombay from the backseat of my cab, and I was on the road, in bumper to bumper traffic most of the time, I got a taste of the City of Dreams, Mumbai, Mumbaikars ki Shaan. Here's my take on it-

When you see the largest population of Fiat Cars that you've ever seen, you know you've reached Bombay. And I'm not talking about the Palios, Siena or Ferraris for that matter. These are old 1980 model Pal Padminis. Except for a few derelicts and some running ones, you wouldn't probably find more than 5 of these in a 5 sq km area around you anywhere in India. But in Bombay, they infest the streets with their black and yellow manifestations. The commonality is not only in the color, but the decals that all of these will have. These range from your run-of-the-mill bus-type Bandra to Bhayander signs, but Signs of all kinds. Thankfully all of them were in English, so I can put down some of them for you here.

They are interesting because they are the only descendants of Bumper stickers in India, even though they are plastered across the back windshield in huge, garish fonts and have the average wit and twist of a Medical Research article. So here you go-

• Come with Me
• Follow Me
• I'm the one!
• Going where you wanted to?
• Writing is like making love. Don't worry about the orgasm, just concentrate on the process.

Ok, so the list is small and you know that the last one is not seen off the back of a taxi but trawled off from the net. The only reason I do so is that I've fallen off my high horse that I could write reasonably well and that I knew how to twist and turn words, sentences, phrases, verbs, adjectives and blah blah blah into meaningful pieces of literature, or pop writing atleast.

The above quote has gotten me back to where I belonged. It's got that thing back where it belonged. Right inside my head. And I'm trying to get it out.

Getting back to Bombay, the day was a rainy one, so I probably got my romantic view of the city the 1st time that I saw it. For the work that I had, I managed to go to Bombay House, the Headquarters of the Tata Group. I was practically within 3 floors of where Mr. Ratan Tata sits. I guess for one of the few times in life, I was enamored. This is probably my idea of visiting Monet's or Van Gogh's studio, or a visit to Disneyland, depending on your choice of passion. The fact that I might get to meet Mr. R. Gopalakrishnan, the Numero Duo of the Tata Group if I slog my ass off hard enough. And if that happens, that'll be the manna of my life for as long as I live. Its stuff like this that my dreams are made of.

Another dream that came through was to see a water body that streched till the horizon. Managed to see the Arabian Sea right before my eyes. The cab took an inane turn off a silly looking single-laned flyover, and I had the Queen's necklace streched out right before me. It was just about dusk time, and the lights had come on early due to the bulbuous, bulging, bating skies.

The view of the sea has never been described to me, and probably never will be described to you. So here's my take, fYKI. .

The edge of the beach wasn't very visible to me, as I was in a car, so coudn't really see a lot of details of the water hitting the rocks and all that stuff. What I did see was an unending stretch of water, that expanded my scale of vision once and for all. All one had to do was look longingly at that wave that stretched just before it all ended, or began.

The next stop was the Bombay Gymkhana Club, an open space on Marine Drive, which is your proverbial pin in the haystack in the heart of Mumbai's commercial space. Of all the facilities that it has, one is an open ground with GRASS. This probably sounds as lame as it does, but you need to travel through a big city as I did, and then reach where I landed up, you'll know what I'm talking about. And, to top that, there was a group of teenagers playing football in the rain-drenched field, each kick to the ball out there drenching the person in front with an equal amount of disdain, water and mud.

All in all, these were like these two dream like situations coming back-to-back in quick succession. And I felt for the 1st time how does it feel to have the sine qua non of ideal situation set up by society becoming visible to you real time.

I mean, all you can see is what I want to write here. Its just an account what I saw, not what you can feel if you were there. And most fittingly, you'll feel quite the same as I did, if you were there. To top it up, all this happened within a space of 5 minutes, while I was still chatting up 2 seniors from college.

Bombay as a dream city has still retained its character for me. I look forward to being back there, doing what I have to, I want to, I would and then something.

Reality will bite, and hard.

Till then, from lala Land..

Yours Truly,

Yours Truly.

Puppy Love

If this picture causes to go oww.. it's going to sell stuff. For sure.

The last few days have been spent looking at a group of what will be the most stone-hearted professional women (and men) in the years to come doing exactly that. Freud's classical conditioning example comes to mind.

Advertisers, Journalists, PR Pro's and Audio-visual Personnel. People who have the most juicily creative minds, people who put in so much heart into what they do, that they forget that they will need a heart for other things in life too. (Note that I'm training to be one too)

I've been interacting with Communication Personnel during whatever little career that I've had, and have found them to be the most perceptive, sensitive and emotional people. They are best at building armors around themselves, protecting against emotion and the lack of it.

Research has shown that more people in these professions die of stress-related diseases than any other. What little is left of their time from work is spent on networking (Read Protocols and all other such related jargons). The brainstorming leaves you with debris of the brain intact. Till the next time you manage to rattle it again.

This is so much fun. Where earlier I had the oppurtunity to see people lose their inhibitions, make a mark for themselves at work, this chance encounter with post-grad education lets me have a look at the way things are, how people, modelling clay like, are moulded into gilt-edged professionals.

The high that I will get 5 years down the line seeing one of these very human people, still (as of now) moved to tears by a moving piece of celluloid, drive that hard bargain. That'll render my learning, evolution and understanding of the Human nature a trifle more completed.

A surfeit of Intellectual snobbishness is often expressed by the lack of brevity in all that one has to say.

All that I wanted to say here is that I get pissed off each time I see the collective oohs and aahs in class each time an advertisement showcasing a cute puppy or baby is projected. The fact that this is my personal judgement, and the fiction that I write here to showcase it, are things for you to ponder about.


I will be posting images of some of the SUPW work that I've been doing. It is so much crap loaded onto some pages, it almost looks like all the ghosts of childhood drawing have come back.

I was into major mischief during Art class while at school. Once the teacher wanted us all to bring some foam to the class for some jazz that she wanted us to do with it. To make it simpler for class 3 kids, she mentioned that we can get 2 ft of it. I managed to somehow transform the news so that the next day, we had some 14 kids flowing around school with 2 metres of foam. It was fun for me, dismay for the school and the kids, and fuming for the teacher.

Another time saw me do spray painting on top of a finished oil painting to show my version of what it should look like.

That was that. I was banished from art class forever. The only kid to be left of the hook. Now the hook is stuck at the back of my neck. Causing me to render doodles that don't daddle. Frames that aren't a lot of fun.

Enough of this jazz. See ya later alligator. Till then remain what you are- A Super Duper Paratrooper.. I'm learning about colors you see. They make you know about their hue, color and intensity. How you can breathe in Blue and breathe out Orange to feel cooler. Whoa! That's a new one for me. I've been trying colored breathing. Isn't working yet.

The last paragraph is what all action and no talk does to you. Puts you in a shell where all you want to do is shout till your ear-drums burst. Like you are wondering to yourselves. What did you just read. Why did I write it. And why are you pondering about it again as you read this line.

Ciao. Hasta la Vista.

Would you like to restart your brain now?

Well, That just about sums up my experience here.. Pune, Oxford of the East.

Sorry I haven't been posting for quite some time here. Normal issues of House hunting, making friends, facing college life and all that jazz. As of today, I've managed to be late for my 1^st class till date, so you can say that I've been a good student. Things are going good as they should, and except for a state of disconnection from the rest of my world, things are just fine.

Being in School is fun. The teachers are fantastic, some of them beyond reproach. I've managed to be so mind-boggled by it all, that I've been accused by my roommate of talking in sleep with my teachers, discussing arcane things. The crowd around is a totally different ball game. The kind of questions that some people can ask in today's day and at the stage that I and my classmates are performing, it reassures you. That In this race towards the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, you know your 24K.

The last few days have been so photocopied in nature; I can probably compress all of their memories into one single day, and live them all over again. Get up, get ready, go to college, attend classes, hurry through lunch, and then just go on doing such things which vegetate your brain till you fall asleep of exhaustion.

There are some strange things happening off late. The more I think about them, the more flummoxed I get.

There is a strange feeling developing here. I've been used to being an authority position. I also knew that once here, I'm all the more eligible for having carried that halo with me, and other people wouldn't recognise it. The thing remains, that I've started taking a backseat from doing things. I've not applied from the Presidentship of a single thing till date. And I think, in scholastic achievement section of my resume, that's supposed to hit my long term career plans for being a leader.

How do you solve this one? Rest on your past laurels and let other people take the stage now, while you look at things from up there, your imaginary halo-glorified land? Or do you push, plan and parry like those ultra-competitive SOB's that you read about in Archer's novels about the successes they were because they chaired the alpha beta gamma phi there? Coming here, one of the things that I wanted to do, was to be Class President. Now, the ball game is entirely different. I really am giving this a thought. Why this break from the quest of power?

May be I'm losing it. Maybe I've lost the killer instinct that's required. The problem is, I never achieved anything through this route before. I just managed to my job honestly and things happened. Life has been good to me. I never had shitty colleagues, indifferent bosses, and unsupportive office cultures to contend with. Life's not given me enough to whine about, to show my discontent and want for attention through my quest for power.

So what should One do? Kill the golden goose of ambition once and for all? The thing that is supposed to take you to the top? Or believe the Gita, and keep doing your karma, till the Lord delivers you the corner office? These are things better left to destiny they say. And So I WON'T.

Be with me all this while, as I now thrust and parry with my own self. One the 6'3" giant with a booming voice ready to intimidate people, and the other, the humble humane homo sapien, trying to lead the life of mental austerity.

This is going to be fun. What say..

Ohh. And on last thoughts, let me not be so inconsiderate to not mention that I've managed to get some great friends around me. People who keep me happy, irritated, frustrated, gargling with laughter, listening with awe, admiring with glee and fascinated with fracas, not exactly in that order. Brilliance does exist in this world, and some of it is floating right around me these days. ( I can be in a happy and Non-confusing state too, you see..)

 

Ciao

qq

    What is happening here is a very strange thing. I'm using MS word to send a post straight to Blogger. I don't believe that MS and Google can be such good friends. Let's see if this works. Will keep you posted on this.

Smitten by the boredom bug

The last few days have been spent ruminating on what to write about. I've been planning to do this post on senseless humor that one is exposed to, in the Vicissitudes of Life itself, on a dayt0day basis, but haven't really had the energy.

I know this time should've been better spent in meeting up with friends and tying up loose ends, as I leave the city for 2 god-forsaken years, but I've had better things to do.

Like Packing up my bags and leaving 9 days early for my sojourn to Pune!

Yes, that's what I almost had to do. My folks were hell-bent on letting me know how tough it was going to be once I reach there. They probably just do it to make me re-think my decision on going. What basically happened was, in a fit of controlled rage, I managed to pack all my bags and was about to move out.

What happened next is run-of-the-mill, so I wouldn't want to get into that. All I know is, I managed to pack my existence in this house of 23 years, in less than 20 minutes and more than 5 bags. Guess that makes me a quick packer but a bad one. More like life, wouldn't you think?
We keep packing more and more things into our lives, thinking each sphere is so important. Packing up so many bags; of friendship, of family, of work, of passions, of love and loving, of traveling, of photography, of being verbose; that we entirely forget that it is us who have to carry all this jazz around.

And you can pack, but you can't always carry.

There are loads of personal things happening, that those in the 'know' of my life know about. But as I leave this city, this hometown of mine, I leave behind a load of things-

X no. of ex-girlfriends, I would want to be modest on this one.
Not exactly a truckload of friends, but few, very good ones.
A job that I loved,
a guitar I never played,
family that will one day, see eye-to-eye.

Guess this is more of a rant, and will not let me reach anywhere. But that hasn't stopped me from trying anything before!

Now's the time, for the 1st time in life, I switch to teenager mode. I started work at 17, was the producer, marketer, seller, vendor of taps for everyone who cared to buy one. Had all my employees under me, was running the show. I was too bothered with running the show and achieving that success, that teenage somehow passed me.

Then, of course, as you know, if you've been following this rantavouz of mine religiously, I joined BPO's (you have the option of hitting backspace here, probably I'd just repeat the rants that I always do). Wouldn't want to touch that part with a ten-foot pole. Have raved and ranted and getting my way to doing what I want to do, I'm not going there again!

Do I hear "Thank Goodness"?

One thing that I've noticed lately, is that I'll need to eat a lot of humble pie. In office; heading a team of 25 odd people who jump through hoops at your calling, calls of Karan Sir, Karan Sir all the time, will lull you into a sense of seniority, which one you shouldn't possess at your age and two, shouldn't let go to your head; subconsciously affects the way you function.

I've already had my first public sign of people don't agreeing with me, one future friend of mine going so far to calling me a long-winded bore, without even knowing me. And I remember that day, for I was so affected by it, sitting in a meeting, all I could think about was replying back with a non-conflictive reply.

All I was trying to do was lay down the ground rules for the College blog. Well, I am adept at going long on these things. I'm sure you appreciate that already, going as you have to, go through all these posts of mine. And bang, comes back a reply of note, equalling me in verbosity, and then going further into arcane discussions about ellipses. Read more about it here.

Guess I just need to step off the gas, that willingness to initiate, the ability to think and act first, and most importantly, stop praising myself just for the sake of making people understand, here through this post, and elsewhere through initiating things.

Vegetating too long in a similar environment does that to you. You manage to come out with absolutely brilliant pieces of disconnected, personal nonsense that people should not be subjected to. Please, for once, write your comments at the bottom of this piece, and let me know.

In Pune, the 1st thing I'm going to do is start photography. Planning to buy a budget camera phone. That and my digicam should get you upto date on life from next monday onwards.

The househunt is going to be one hell of a ride. Wish me luck!

There is something in the Gita about Moksha, and this is what it is. Doing nothing all day, just the laptop and you, not going out and meeting friends because its too hot and you don't have no money.

Neither a student of a fancy-schmancy media school, nor the employee of a gungho corporate.
No worry of the next paycheck, as broke as I can be.

When the robe is made of freedom, who cares about the threads that wrap it around your body, whether it's open for the world to see, or so closed for those near me, to check into this blog and see what's happening in my mind.

Next Post, post 11th June, live from Pune.

I'm going to crash with Dominic, my maestro friend from Pune, who has been kind enough to give sar par chath initially.

Signing off with what would be my last post, of the only time in life, when I'd be free from all bandhans.

Destination Pune, the Countdown has begun.

7,6,5,4,3,2,1.... CRASH!! GOD's HERE in Poona!

:-P Tongue firmly in cheek, a tiny twinkling tear, mouth firmly shut, jaw clenched, hands waving about, I call adios to the capital of India, Delhi meri Jaan.

So long Amigos.

When you walk into the Sunset...

Or rather into the Sunrise....

Today, I finish my stint with BPO's. It's the grand finale of a very important, significant, fulfilling, moralising, exhilerating, sleepless part of my life. 33 months of night slumber, come down to this.

Today, as I will walk back home, hair and face smeared with cake (hopefully and hopelessly), I would be done with a lot of things in life. I'd thought I would write this once I'm done, but nostalgia strikes you hardest, when you know the future is going to change very soon.

It's funny of all the things that you've done and achieved, its just the funniest moments that one would recall. Guess that makes me a happy camper as far my 'work satisfaction' goes. I know if it wasn't for the "work-life" balance, I wouldn't quit this for the world.

So cheers to-

• 987 nights of excitement,
• 259 friends (don't ask how I derived that no.),
• A good 300 hours spent at the gym (and a pot belly to show for, at the end of it)
• Humongous amounts 0f food consumed,
• The 8500 odd westerners I managed to serve, with a smile.
• The 78 people for whom I played boss over this time. Each one of them at one point of time or another, were exposed to my inspired, insipid sermons on how they ought to succeed.

I guess such a speech and anecdotes would have been more appropriate had I been retiring as the CEO, with 40 years of work life behind me, but then, what can one do, but glorify and consecrate one's past, chronicling it for the generations to come even if the career, so to speak, has spawned less than 3 years. To me, it's been a lifetime.

After all, when you're walking into the sunset, you're allowed to have one look back at it.

I'll be editing this post with a few nostalgic pictures.

I think I'd end this post with a lot of thank you notes, and all that jazz. So here goes,

Thanks to my first boss, Vineet, for letting me know how it feels to have a mentor.

Jatin, my man with the funny bone(s), the hysteria wouldn't have lasted so long without you, may you find the girl(s) of your fantasies soon.

All the people I bulldozed into submission, thanks for bearing the spectacle of moi in rapid motion.

My team(s), if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have emerged a saner man, with a take on life that I do now. Cheers to You!

All right, the rest is too personal and stupid to write here, all I do is a quote from what I wrote as my last mail to my professional world-

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

You just read the pre-release copy of the foreward of my new book, "In the night, no Control". Its a tale of narcissism, coupled with heavy doses of sex, violence, tobacco, loose women and loser men.

Yeah, that's what you think call centers are about. They aren't.

Driving around the Big Bend

Driving in Big Bend, TX
Originally uploaded by jonesey_cymru

I'm just about to drive around the bend here. One could say that this road one's that familiar and one knows what's coming.

Well, the paradox that it is, I know what's around, and I can imagine it coming; what form, shape and texture it will take. And then again, I can only ImaGine...

That's what Life does to you, makes you look forward to things, with trepidation, inspiration and a lot of other -ations that make life what it is. Life's been going black and white, gray and deep navy blue these last few days.

I live life with colors. I see them around me all the time. And if I was asked to whet rhetoric about how I felt, it'd probably be a color that'll frame my answer.

Right now, its a hazy blue, wherever the haze is pulling away, from my breath coming out in wisps, and that giant clock of time, the minute hand ticking, creating enough wind for the haze to lift, I see a deep, shiny blue.

Ok, enough of rants and raves, I've never been good at writing this kinda stuff, only that I've been reading too many blogs of late, and I'd promised my self that I'll write philosophy and my take on it one of these days.

There you go. Philosophy on the Tap. Delivered.

This is so much fun...

This is so much fun... Wish I had been exposed to all these movies while I was young, who knows, I might have turned out to be a bollywood stunt director...



Watch out especially for the dance at the end..

India Poised

I know it's not 15th August or 26th January or any such other occasion to mark my national colors on my heart and sleeve, but this one is just as good as it gets-

There are two Indias in this country

One India is straining at the leash, eager to spring forth and live up to all the
adjectives that the world has been showering recently upon us.

The other India is the leash.

One India says, give me a chance and I'll prove myself. The other India says,
prove yourself and maybe then you'll have a chance.

One India lives in the optimism of our hearts. The other India lurks
in the skepticism of our minds .

One India wants. The other India hopes. One India leads. The other India follows.

But conversions are on the rise. With each passing day more
and more people people for the other India are coming over to this side.
And quietly, while the world is not looking, a pulsating, dynamic
new India is emerging.

An India whose faith in success is far greater than its fear in failure.
an India that no longer boycotts foreign-made goods but buys out the
companies that make them instead.

History, they say, is a bad motorist. It rarely ever signals its intentions
when it is making a turn.

This is that rarely-ever moment. History is turning a page.

For more than half a century, our nation has sprung, stumbled, run. fallen, rolled over, got up, dusted herself and cantered, sometimes lurched on
But today, as we begin out 60th year as a free nation, the ride has brought
us to the edge of time's great precipice.

And one India- a tiny little voice at the back of the head- is looking down
at the bottom of the ravine and hesitating.

The other India is looking up at the sky and saying, it's time to fly.

So what say?

Forgotten memories

Forgotten memories
Originally uploaded by Bhavna Bahri.

Wish some day, I could come back to the memories that I am living these days.

I know all my previous posts (rants) have been about the cost that I've had to pay for being in a Call center. But life and the way it's been here, has a lot to do with the way I am today.

If it has taught me what its like to lose close friends or their company at the least, it has taught me perseverance, fortitude, and a lot of other big and flashy terms that have forged my character.

I've learned how to groan hard, to shout out loud, to laugh till my jaws hurt, to be up and running when all I want to do is drop dead, to stretch myself beyond imagination, to serve people with a smile despite being dead inside, to have courage in the face of adversity, to lead from the front, and support from right behind, and to walk together with people I've not known ever.

Was reading somewhere about the concept of duality, that we humans always have a choice to make between two things at the least, and that all stimuli in the environment also exist in that quantum- Day and night, Life and Death, Night and Day, Truth or Lies, Blonde or Brunette :o)

What I do now, wasn't a choice that I made, it came to me. What I am going to do, will most definitely be a choice that I'll make, in the face of everything else that's there in life right now.

It's easy to embrace the easy, and to forgo the difficult, for the choices that we have, and the ones that we make, can ALWAYS be justified.

I know this post isn't going anywhere, but I am.

The countdown begins...

Less than 10 days to go before this month finishes, and the 1st month of my being a student (full time), a college goer, a total bhookha nanga praani begins.

All my friends have agreed to send me a princely sum of Rs. 50/- each, if my father holds true his threat of not supporting me out there...

So get your paypal accounts ready.. we are ready to fly, and it ain't gonna be the trial version.

A runby

Well.. Days.. they are a flying..

I'm spending less time sleeping, lesser time working and more time thinking, so I can spend more time with the people I love, and some of them who love me.

Don't really have the time right now to observe things that are around me, I'm at a stage, where the world is passing by full speed, and I'm driving in other direction. A feeling like this indicates that I have spondalytis.

Well, the thing is that I want to be here right now, spewing forth statements that let you know of my wit, intellect and ability to observe and spew venom, the thing is, the only thing that has made the length of this quick note I wanted to write is my typing speed (I type at a whirlwind 70 wpm, its just that 35 of those are backspaces).

For those of you who found some humor in The Namecase, here's a piece of news that'll astound you as it has found me jittery at the jinxedness of it all.

Navita's sister Ritika just had her Grad marksheets out,

She's named Nitika on them.

Is there a loch ness of nomenclature around? Please find out and let me know. She's not changing her name though. I advised her for it. She would have done so at an even later age, and consequently would have had more fun. But she decided against it. The Babu doesn't win this one.

Not many days left for me to go to Pune. I'm flying Indian this time. So this time the experience will be of India's oldest nationalised carrier (as if there's another one, nationalised i.e.).

11th of June 2007- The date I set off for a journey that'll take me across a whirlwind of emotions, a jittery series of motions (not of the bowelian nature), that'll make me hang my formal shirt in the locker for atleast 2 years, and do some stuff.


Here's my resolution list for the next 2 years, I know it's the middle of the year, and kinda middle of my youth too, but here goes.

AND, I don't want anyone to think over there, that I've been influenced by them or the Cool College culture that pre-exists. All these will of course depend on if this college lets people be, or being a student here makes a dent in your being a stud (WOW!!! What a संधिविच्छेद).

This is all what I'm going to do, not necessarily in the same order-

1. Grow my hair Long, ponytail probably.
2. Develop a six pack (On my abdomen, not a new revolutionary design of a bundle pack of beer).
3. Wear T-shirts without collars (Currently I own one, wear none).
4. Get a tattoo. This is the one I like, if I can find a tattoo artist good enough.

5. Get a life where Blogs are about experiences are of the kind that talk about too much time at hand, where the time passes slow and steady, where friends can sit and talk for atleast 8 hours straight; where I can breathe deep each morning, to wake up with the sunshine blinding my eyes, not the alarm bell on my phone; where there are more punctuation marks that are full stops, not commas; where the ellipses are not a connection to the next line, they can be just by themselves.

6. Not do anything that involves making a numbered list of tasks.

Being an achiever is half the battle won, knowing what the battle is about, is what winners do.

Okay, that line wasn't half as good as it comes, but the thing is, right now, my mind isn't as foggy as it is by lack of sleep and other things segregating my brain.

2 years later, my dad's still going to be trading and creating wealth from shares, my brother will be selling taps across India, my mom would still be the teacher, and I my friends, am going to be right here, writing a blog, being places and doing things that get me all worked up about nothing at all.

The Follicle Chronicles

Well,

This one's been a long time coming. Recently, I'd felt that most novel experiences that I was trying to have were for the fact that I wanted to write here about them.

Enough of the drone, now about the Follicle Chronicles...

Ever since I was a year old, I had been taken by My Granddad to the family barber. This guy had cared for my grandfather's mane ever since he came to Delhi. Grandpa was a professional photographer who later joined the International Airport Authority and their fire-service. This resulted in him taking a liking for the crew cut. And all through his life, once every 3 weeks, he would get his hair shorn at the altar of the crew cut. My father, the only child, kinda broke the tradition, with long(er) locks that he kept during his college days. He then subscribed to Grandpa's views on the Haircut. And so the crew cut was passed down from Generation to Generation.

So, every 3 weeks, Grandfather led the way with me and my brother in tow to the Barber Shop. It's strategically placed, once you get out of my house, you just take the turn on to a main road and then this shop is right there... That's where the road becomes a T-point of sorts in the local Vegetable Mandi. So there was no way I could tell my Grandpa to deviate (shouting out loud for a chocolate/video game/music cassette) and use another barber. Why would I do so, I wasn't a kid with a fear of the razor, neither was the barber was so hideous that he cast a psychological impression on me. All said, I just had to go in.

Thing was, I hated the crew cut with a vengeance. Grandpa was the father figure and would not yield. The Barber would then start, stopping only when the hair on my head was an inch longer or I would have been Baby Chanakya of the 90's.

My situation in those days were more like this Calvin Strip. It always started like this one, but then the crew cut happened. At least all through my primary and middle school years, I looked like a generic clone, albeit with a Crew Cut. Time passed, my grandfather's advent on his heavenly abode set me free for the only thing that I was deprived of, a decent haircut. I had always been the apple in the eye for the family. Eldest grandson in the family, carried in the lap when a baby and then on the shoulder when older by all my loving cousins. So this hair cut thingy was the last thing missing.

Promptly and as soon as I could, i.e. as soon as I had saved up enough money for a salon haircut, I went. From there on, it was salons all the way.

I did not change barbers unless and until they moved away, so in the last 10-odd years, there haven't been more than 3-4 blessed souls who've had the opportunity to work their magic on my scalp. Fact was, I hated the drill of going to a new salon, each time I did, the new barber always started with the "where do you normally go?/What do you do?" routine, followed up by their suggestion on my portfolio of skin problems that afflicted me since early teenage.

So, it was my barbers and me, and life was going on. The Crew cut barber, through all these years, had gone from being a thin, anemic looking boy to a mature, french-bearded man who passed me on the streets and always nodded as I did unto him. He never carried the animosity of the lost customer thingy for me, and we knew who the other was, even though too much water had passed under the bridge since then.

Well, to cut the really long story short, this last weekend, once I'd slept after a 36 hour no-sleep sojourn, I woke up at 12 in the afternoon to see that my busy social calender afforded me nothing but the opportunity to buy books and get a haircut. It was the beginning of the summer and the temperature that day was a cool 39 degrees, with the first loo billowing. The only problem was, I didn't feel like driving and there wasn't a Salon in the vicinity that swiped plastic in exchange for running clippers, scissors, combs et al through my head. Books were a similar problem.

Well then I remembered about the new-fangled Teksons Bookshop in the local market. I started on, reaching there, only to find them shutting shop 10 minutes early for Lunch. Since I'd already started from home on a mission, I had to get the Book (Which was for a gift for a colleague going away). So, I had about 30 minutes to kill. And the haircut was in the offing. So I thought, let's go for the adventure today. Back to THE Barber.

Gliding through the local alleys, I was soon at the barber shop, it had now shifted a few stalls down the line. It no longer afforded the precious view of the road, where the barber constantly awaited new customers while taming my hair; he could fully concentrate on the job at hand. He was more than a little surprised to see me.

You see, the last time I had left his shop, I was a fresh-faced 7 year old, merely 4-5 feet tall. To have me 15 years later, enter his domain at a straggling if not baffling 6'3" was stupendous to say the least. He isn't the kind of person who's awed by the personalities of yonder and yore, all the big seths and Banias of the market still come to him, I was still little change, and then some.

He was shaving someone when I went in, so I had the chance to check out the changes while I waited. Things had kept up with the times, with grey creeping in his side-locks, he would have looked in place at any corporate office with his distinguished looking french beard, if not for the deal life had dealt him.

The shop had remained just about the same, walls adorned with calenders from the local shops from this year and previous ones, a small water cooler abutting the wall in front.

Sitting in the chair, the 1st thing he had me do was slouch downwards, for this was no ergonomic sofa in the making, but the default barber's chair. It was your Windows 3.1 in days of the Vista. It was Model T in the days of the Corvette, only it that it isn't something as coveted. As soon as I slouched, the haircut started.

Well, this time, once he'd done up the back of my head (Skin-touch style, as per him), he asked the question that I'd wanted all these years, "How would you want it?"

The rest was all humdrum dribble and all that, but this one question made it all okay.

I've never been a person who's been affected, afflicted or impacted by mental deviations of any kind, identifying phobias and other psychological disorders (I'm sure my closest friends, and parents, and teachers and colleagues and you would differ) rather than having them. So, while this wasn't a unfulfilled adoloscent control mechansim, but the coming of age, that never happened that took place.

It was another thing that my hair, who have a life of their own, reacted strangely to this non-disinfected, slightly worn-edge of his scissors. So, at the end of it all, I looked into the the stained mirror in front of me, and smiled beatifically at my own face for the 1st time in my life. For he had managed to give me the Sadhna Cut, better known to contemporaries as the Jassi look.

Hair gel and a week of hair-growth have taken care of things since then, but the experience was worth it. It's another thing to have your hair crafted using surgical precision instruments, another to have them put into place by a serrated piece of metal.

Now, the reason for doing this to you. I've turned into a literary exhibitionist, showing off what my life is, right here.

And the other reason is Shantaram...

Shantaram is one of my favorite tomes of all time. It's just that it's a thick book with small print, hence it's a little like the Fountainhead, just that the author replaces 3-page long single character dialogues from one character in the Fountainhead to descriptions of the name-place-animal-thing(s) in his environment in Shantaram. And I've gifted about 5 copies to my friends.
All of them complain that it's the densest (if their's a word) thing they've ever read.

If you've managed to read through this and reach here, my work's done. My faith in mankind has been restored. If people in this world are willing to read through 1200 word essays on haircuts, we will continue to exist as a species. Lack of Curiousity will not claim us; giving in to androids, politicians, spiritual gurus, greed, crime, corruption will be resisted still.

Peace be upon you. You've accomplished something today. You've read the Follicle Chronicles. Discuss it the next time you have coffee with your friends. Add this to your resume and see your career grow in leaps and bounds.

Ciao

Hindi ki Bindi...

indian_colours
Originally uploaded by Evren Sahin.

यह ब्लौग पोस्ट मैं हिंदी में इसलिये लिख रहा हूँ चूंकि मैं यह चाहता हूँ कि मैं हिंदी तथा आँग्ल भाषा दोनो मे अच्छी तरह लिख सकूं तथा अपने आपको स्पष्ट रुप से व्यक्त कर सकू।

बहुत साल पहले, जब मैं अंग्रेजी का भक्त नहीं बना था, मैं हिंदी कॉमिक्स पढ़ कर अपने समय का बहुपयोग करता था। इनमे प्रमुख थी सुपर कमांडो ध्रुव, नागराज, चाचा चौधरी, बिल्लू-पिंकी तथा अन्य सभी कॉमिक पात्र। अब तो आप समझ ही गए होंगे कि पढने का फितूर मेरी बचपन में डाली गयी आदतों का ही नतीजा है।

बचपन के दिन मैं तीन भागों मैं बाँटा करता था। पहले आठ घंटे स्कूल में टाईम पास करने में बीतते थे, बाक़ी आठ घंटे कॉमिक्स और वीडियो गेम खेलने में व आख़िरी आठ घंटे सोने में। फिर जब मैं आठवी कक्षा में आया तो पहली बार अपने विद्यालय के पुस्तकालय से मुझे मेरा पहला अंग्रेजी नावल, Such a Long Journey मिला।

Written by Rohinton Mistry, this was a novel about a parsi family in wartime Bombay. Needless to say and as you can see, from this time on, I was a slave to the written word, but only in the queen's language. I've been reading English Fiction, non-fiction, diction and contradiction ever since.

Please don't read much into this post। नहीं तो आप किन्कर्त्त्व्यविमूढ़ रह जायेंगे।

अलविदा।

The NameCase

Howdy...

Now that I've used this blog long enough as my written memoir on life, the time has come for us to break the line and talk about something else. I'm going to name certain people in life who're close to me, and since they are so many of them around with this singular but angularly triangular trait (don't even wonder/ponder/go yonder on this past line).

I'm surrounded by people with misspelled names. I know you can derive names from any language/object/god/animal/inanimate things/places and objects. You've got Lara Dutta who isn't named after the famous Cricketer since they are almost contemporaries but after a song called Lara's theme. And so on and so forth. The reason I found this topic interesting enough to write will be revealed in due time. For now, just be on the ride.

Most of these names are just spelling juggernauts that went a little awry somewhere down the line, while these people were little kids, or something more reasonable, the piece de resistance however, is a work of art. My bestest friend is named Ratika, a vowel interchange that sets her apart from everyone else. In fact, the vowel is what all of them have changed all over the place. I know a Reetieka as well, so there's an overabundance of eee's (That's the sound that came from me, as soon as I spent more than 3 minutes around her), Shriddha, one of my favorite officemates is another example in case. There's Renu who doesn't like her own name so everyone calls her Rain, but she's so sweet this doesn't cause anyone any pain. (For the poetic self was this last line administered, the broken, punctuated writing of mine doesn't offer much rhythm and rhyme, you see)

Now, to the piece de resistance, I acquired a cousin through a marriage in the family, she's the daughter of the family my cousin was married into. And her name's Navita. (The family's pretty close to me, and I'm writing this just after having spent the night chatting up her brother all night long on the future of organised retail in India) Now, I'd heard Namita, Vanita and Kavita, and this name, as it sounded adequately North Indian, bowled me over. Since I pride myself narcistically over my command of the shudh Hindi language, I couldn't fathom the meaning of this one. It didn't sound like one of those archaic hindi names like Manyata, Maanit, Vishesh (I know all these people and they know me, some recently, some from years back). So I was curious, and I decided to kill the cat at the oppurtune moment, almost right at the altar of her marriage.

Just half an hour before she was to enter the pandal for her marriage, I posed my seemingly benign query to her. And out came the most intriguing happenings in this world that I'd heard of. Up until she reached Class Xth at the age of 15, she was known as Namita. She passed her Class Xth with lavitating colors and soon was to receive her passing certificate and marksheet.

They both arrived in due time, Crisp as ATM-delivered Money notes and finally, she was a confirmed Xth pass Gal. Wow! This story is exciting, isn't it. (Go on, grind your teeth, its good for your digestion) :-P

Now, the issue was, she received her passing certificate, and it had a typo. As lcuk wolud hvae it, her nmae was misseplled in the cerfiticate. Just the way you understood the last sentence, the family did too. And then, ingenuity struck. Instead of getting the typo edited and a new certificate made, the family decided to call her Navita.

After 15 years of developing herself as Namita the me, Namita the myself, she had been destined to lead her life with a V for victorinox cutting her name in half inverse.

-------

What's in a Name, said Shakespeare... Navita will never get to know, she had it altered off a Keyboard Typo.
--------

Navita doesn't have a meaning for all that I know. It doesn't create a question in anyone's mind, since our environment-friendly junta can overcome all difficult names by dabbling them with familiar sounding names, so she passes off as Namita most of the time. Imagine that, a typo changing your life. You don't have to give an advert in the classifieds to notify that you've changed your name, you don't have to nothing else, you just get yourself a new name. At the threshold of teenage, angst, joy, dreams, erudition, loquaciousness, you have a new moniker to define, deign and mollify yourself with. One that you didn't earn yourself, but was given to you off the farsightedness of a U.P. Education Board Babu based in Bareilly, who thought that you'd fare well in life with the Victorinox diversion.

Thank god also, for she has a nick name that isn't as nicked and defiled as her good name. Its Jimmy, that's what everyone calls her, her mom with a tinny twang, and her bhabhi with a condimental sweetness, and me with a canine-loving drawl, all beckoning the same, one and only Navita.

Thank god my parents decided to drop off my nick-name for my good name all those years ago. I wouldn't respond or correspond to it at this day and age. And NO, I'm not telling it to you.

She's happily married, and juggling her life between self-administered anorexia and a doctorate in Naturopathy. Don't raise your brows if you see me running me with my cousin behind me with a Enema Tube, bag and barium solution et al in her hands, chasing me down the road for using and gesticulating on her name, just to feed my creativity and your voyeuritic desires of the literary kind.

My use of parenthesis in this post is only due to my recent way of living life, where I do unjust things to myself and others near and dear to me, and then justify it by inner turmoil and juxtaposition of values and relative action. (Which will end post this last word)

----END(ed)----

This is from her wedding. My all-encompassing grin is thinking of the post you just went through. Now, please press Alt+Tab twice.

A Miracle messed up

Well, I was walking into the Wind for the last 15 days, with the wake rising high on my soul's gutted fumes. I was charged up to make a difference, and I have. Work's been better, organised, and giving solace in its mind-numbing repetition.

Hindi's a nice language, and it also had the foresightedness of alluding things for the future. The verb for sleeping "Sona" also means Gold. Little wonder that my mind has starting equating both.

While being up late each night, weaving dreams with eyes open, sharing that ciggy with your friends is something all teenage/young adult years are made of, Call centers have turned these dreams on their head.


What that basically means is that the last 15 days have been spent in a hazy daze that's lasted up until last night, when I decided that enough was really not enough and I did not need to take a grip. So, I just let go.

I've w0rked 14 hours X 7 days , and worried about other things. Dad's still not talking to me (at all). So this is the longest hiatus that he and me have had. Yeah, we've done this before.. Each time there's been a period of change.

When I passed out of school and he wanted to me join work full time at the tender age of 17. Then, after I had joined work and hauled my ass all around Delhi for 3 years, building up my future by driving 150 kms in a day in the famous delhi heat, he wanted me to quit and join call centers as the family didn't have enough money to survive.

I resisted, he persisted, and I gave in, less for the money part, more for reducing the constant friction that was there all the time. Then, again, after I had been with Wipro for around 8 months, he suddenly decided that time had come for me to make a job change, to earn more money. I put a full stop there, told him to wait another 8 months and If nothing happened, I will switch.

6 months later, I got promoted and life was good. Dad's happy coz his good-for-nothing son's now a Team Leader with Wipro. 3 months later, he says, give interviews in other companies, these guys are paying too less.

Me says, wait some more time. Joined IBM late last year for double the dough I got at Wipro. Dad's happy again. I've been with IBM for 4 months, and he's like, Interview time again. I didn't even touch that argument with a ten-foot pole. I didn't.

All this while, I knew what was happening. But I let it. Not that I was at loss of identity or was a timid or let-my-parents-make-my-life kinda person. Dad and me spoke a lot, he made a lot of sense in all he spoke.

Except for this little thing- he pushed. And now for the 1st time in life that I've decided to do my own thing, after 7 years of non-stop for-the-family jazz, he decides that I'm being insensitive to the family's needs. Financial, Emotional and Sociological Trouble is what I'm brewing for my family all because I've decided to pursue a dream.

It isn't something made out of seeing snazzy ad execs in movies and the success of people in my environment who've been able to get where they want and more. Its built out of a desire, the desire to be big, blah blah and BLAH..

If I want to be, just let me... Me myself and MY agony.

Come to think of it, wasn't it for this blog. most people misunderstand me; my friends for never having enough time for them, my family for being insensitive to their wants and needs, my Boss for not giving All that I have, my Colleagues for pushing them too hard, my Food for eating it in abandon, the lift for tinkering with the buttons more than needed, the office cab for bickering about the FM volume and AC's Intensity, their drivers for being overly polite, the fellow cabbies for being too good a company, laughing all the time, the weather for being prone to heat strokes, my gal for being preoccupied while we speak, God for being too greedy and needy and you for me being too verbose..

That's life for me, a Miracle messed up. But, I will set it right.

Life's a dream that'll be fulfilled 3 years from now. You'll be reading this blog, where the entries will be written on a late Weekday evening, or a lazy Sunday afternoon, not at noon on a Thursday, when all the world's out there earning their bread, and I'm gliding all over the keyboard writing my memoirs, dreams, of my retrospective and counter-introspective pearls of wisdom.

Welcome to the Jungle!

Foetus

Live.Learn.Grow

3 things to do each day, 3 photographers, all gorgeous looking ladies who define the way the world looks for me out of 3 continents,

Miss Aniela, UK; Maryanne, Australia; Rebekka, Denmark/Sweden/Someplace up there..

Me aint posting for some time.. just letting things be, Please come back and go forth to these ladies and see as they discover life through the lens.


I've paid up the fee for the course, the loan happened just as other things happen to me in life; running late for things, they hit me square in the face.

Visual DNA???

People, this is the coolest thing I've seen since flickr and Interestingness..
Check this out, click on each link, discover my Visual DNA Faarst, and then go see your own.. Looking forward to this...

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

The Rumble of Ramblings...

Okay, the last few days have been spent tinkering with my brain or whatever.. Life's good, and then when you get into the thick of it, its just keeps getting better and better still.

The viscosity this time, is due to my much awaited admission thingy.. Not much is happening on that front, Dad's hemming and hawing, and time's passing by.. One thing's for sure, It's now or never.. I've been calling to base the spirit of each rebel that I can think about, to inspire, enthuse, and egg me on, towards my dream of being.

I know there's got to be a word there, post being, but then that's all that I want to be, BE!!

I don't have much to write except for Sapiosexuality, a concept that I came across lately. Haven't thought on these lines, but now that I d0, this is my orientation, for today and for life.. Not much info available on it, but then if you are here reading this, chances are you'll share the thought.. read more here.....

Half Past Dead

Times have moved on.. I still haven't..

Life's still the same bag of stray newspaper cutouts that I've read over the years.. The same old dreary bits and pieces of little nothings that convert life into the thing that it is.

Two quick trips over the last 2 weeks have been great fun.. The 1st one was a same day sojourn to Ajmer Sharif that I undertook with my buddy Rajat. Started off at 4:30 in the morning after sleeping less than a couple of hours that evening. We drove through the Jet Plane landing worthy Delhi- Jaipur Highway. We stopped at Le Meridien Jaipur for Breakfast. It was your run-of-the-mill Buffet Breakfast fare, cold cuts, porridge, stuffed omelettes at all.

What made it a little different was our c0-diners for the meal were Akshay Kumar, Paresh Rawal and Shiney Ahuja. These guys were down there for a Shoot, for a movie called BhoolBhuleiya( I think I've spelled this right, but I'm sure by the time it releases it will have some extra b's, o's and a's attached to it) The film also stars Vidya Balan and Amisha Patel, but the lovely ladies did not grace us with their presence.

It was almost funny the way these guys walked in. Initially, there was only 1 small time comic-actor, who used to play some role in Saas ki Bahu eons ago, and who I thought must've come for a serial shoot. In walks Shiny, complete in a skin tight Tee with his trademark unkempt look, but what the hell, it was 7 AM on a Sunday. Just gave him a look as you would any artefact in which you are mildly interested, while he surveyed the scenery with a disdainful look.

I told Rajat that we might just have someone Big walk in as the entire unit was coming up one by one... Paresh Rawal appeared, struck a conversation with the comic previously mentioned, and so began the wait for Amitabh Bacchchan, or so I had convinced myself by the way star value was increasing in the room, something I mentioned to Rajat. Can't really say was disappointed to have Akki join us next, he was right up there, star material to be gazed at, both a youth icon and a mature man.

The above two paragraphs were written just to check how badly I can write about arcane and mundane things. I will edit this post very shortly.. I think my Internet at home will start working. So this might be the last time you are reading this para.

[Edit]

Okay.. So I did not take that last para off, lets just have it there for the time being...

And the trip from then on was smooth as silk.. The road from Jaipur to Ajmer rocks!! This is the road to speed test your wheels, we sped Rajat's Santro to a top speed of 146 Km/hr. It would have been heady had I not been reading Robin Cook, all whose novels seem to me to fascimiles of each other. He has a fixation for Syndromes, all victims are people who've had elective surgery and are convalescing in the hospital, when a Psycho decides to kill them using Potassium and related compounds. If in case you are interested, read some of his books back to back and you'll know for sure what I'm talking about.

Moving on to the blast that I had last weekend, it was the office trip to Rishikesh. Our motley group has been servicing Canadians for so long that it was therepautic to be out there and see the stars. The view from my camp was breathtaking-

The night however, was something beyond an ordinary rememberance, I HAVE not SEEN a sky with more stars. It was pockmarked with constellations and solitary stars galore. Couple this with a bon-fire that required Kerosene to generate heat every few minutes, and we shall know where I stood, sat and pondered. No cell phones, no parents, no girlfriend, no thought process that had me raving or deadened, no photo ops; peace and just that, period.

Food tasted extra juicy that night, the alcohol I couldn't have coz there were a coupla moderately, lazily, funnily drunk people for me to handle. All in all, peace at its worst, fun at its best, so will take this on any day!

Day 2 was rafting time, all geared up in life jackets, crash helmets et al, we were on..

Rafting was as much fun as anything can be, my team mate Chirag tagged up military style to effectively overcome and undertake what, now that I look back at it, was a tepid challenge. The best fun was had by those not on the oars, but sitting starboard side and getting the surf drenching them to the soul. Sample this-

Life's best moments go by in a flash, I'll just quote from an email forward that I got recently, read this and do something about the things written...

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

S**t Happens

Okay Folks.. This one's been a long time coming.. So here you go.. Just little snippets of life since the last time I posted-

Feb 26, 2007.. the first time I flew... spanking new Aircraft, cool blue interiors, all said and done, a very nice experience, just that I was too tired for lack of sleep and rest had me prone to a neck pain like never before... Had a nice view of the Sea on my way to Pune, with the Sun turning the water into molten gold all over the place... When they say God's the better artist amongst all of us..it ain't a complete thought, after all, he's got the largest canvas to work on!

Pune's your regular bustling metro, complete with humongous construction projects, flyovers being built all over the place, and traffic that goes beyond your and my understanding... namely where are all the people going?

Nice food that I got all over the place was an added bonus.. But it's only the High-street places that do a good job. I visited Vaishali, Savera which are "the" breakfast and Lunch places. The 1st evening were spent successively at Kiva, a very nice joint with the best service to date that I've seen at a Bar/Lounge. Agreed that the place didn't have that many covers to contend with, even then it did a amazing job. Company for the evening was my freind from back in Wipro, Siddharth Franklin aka Frankie, who amazed me with his warmth since we guys weren't that thick all through the time that we worked together.

The next day was spent at Symbiosis, and was it a whack!! 1st up, the self introduction, something that I wasn't at all prepared for. People came in prepared with Musical PPT's, CD's with Videos of them, MTV Roadies ishtlyle, with parents and freinds talking about their qualities and how they will be successful at advertising got me hooked. I mean, look at all these people doing the stuff that they did, and what right did I have to be here, doing this and all. Then had the Group Discussion, where I fared well, followed by the Peer Interface, where current students asked me the time of the day and all, and last BUT not the least, the Stress Interviewm which I would like to dedicate an entire paragraph to, for reasons that will soon become apparent-

4 people in the room, 2 lecturers, your run-of-the-mill nice middle age ladies, with Cosmopolitan and savvy writ large all over their persona, and to complete the good cop-bad cop scenario, the Deputy Director of the Institute, a gentleman who managed to flabbergast me, something that no one has happened to do in my concieveable sense of recent history of life. We had started off the conversation with the usual, why not an MBA conversation and I managed to veer off the conversation to other corners of the globe. And then I managed to somehow make a point that Advertising combines Linguistics and Psychology in the best possible form.. something that I believe in. He then proceeded to give askance to my expertise with these two fields, and we got down to talking about semantics-Meaning and usage of words, and etymology-Origin of Words.

Mr. Deputy Director had the following say on my understanding of semantics and its semantics(if you get the drift good enough, else pass on to the next para, something about hot girls there)-
Per him, History is like [pause, hem, haw to think] Akbar drinking Tea!! Whoa!! I knew that it was a stress Interview and all, and they were to take me apart in pieces and all, but this surely beat it. I was speechless for lack of words, thoughts and ideas to tackle this one. Full marks to him for out-of-the-box thinking. Has sure made me think about the incident about a hundred times since, and put it down on paper here.

I made a freind in Pune, Dominic. He plays the Guitar for one of Pune's most prolific Band, Purple Patch, and without a preamble, played host to me on my stay there. My first memories of Pune will be sitting on his bike and cavorting through little-known streets, as he made me look at life from a new perspective. I know I'm 23 and all, not reached that age yet where I cant be a sage and all, but this guy amazed me with his quick wit, ingenuity and way with words. It's not many times that you meet a worthy one, and he's right up there. The days were spent exchanging quick-witted one liners, ones that I miss most in my conversations out here. The girls were piping hot out there (This last line is just to keep the promise, so ignore if you can please.

Day 3 was a 7 hour wait for a 15 minute interview, where I was asked again why did I want to frustrate my self, by the same director in the Delhi episode. This round went smoothly and on I was, to another night on the town. This was spent at 1000 Oaks, Pune's premier watering hole, my memories of the night- Smoke stung eyes and great conversation on western music. Franklin, me and Dominic were joined by Vishal, Purple Patch lead singer. Good Fun!!

For another account of this mind-boggling experience, click here to read Dominic's take on it. It's a little narcissistic on my part to put it in, as he's harped about me a little too much, but then, those wings on the neck don't feel too bad. :-)

Two consecutive nights out on the town is not something that I've done ever in my life.. and if you leave the smoke out, did enjoy myself to the hilt. It's another thing I must've smoked a pack and half, based on the ciggies that I lit up and the passive smoking that took place. 1000 oaks, heard of air purifiers yet?

The flight back was absolutely uneventful. So much for the facts. I resisted writing this post coz I wanted to be in the know of my results. And Ladies and Gentlemen, in case you did not know-

I AM IN!!!

Out of 4800 total applicants, yours truly is one of the 36 chosen ones for an admission. Don't know what to say or do... Now's the time to take the rap, the proverbial plunge from a cushy job to the unknown world of studies, and this will be the 1st time in my teenage-adult life that I will be studying full time, having spent my college years selling taps all across north India.

Life's come a full circle for me at this juncture, dunno what to do. My parents and my gal have a single thought in their minds, "Tu na, Dilli se MBA karle"

After going through all that I did, this is good! Things are going just as I planned, as they say..."Shit happens"

I'll keep ya all posted in case I manage to go to Pune and onto the big bad world of Advertising. Keep watching this space for more.

Next few days are going to be spent in office, and days trying to get a student loan. Phukrapanti, here I come!

Ciao.