My Great Ol' GranPa.

There a lot of things I want to write about today, but none of them can be discussed before the single most important thing that has happened this year be addressed. Three days ago, my grand dada passed away. He died at 84. They say ''everyone say good things about a person after he's gone". And I'd probably agree. But in this case, all the good that is being said about it, needs to be.

From what I've seen, he's led a spectacular life. At a pretty young age he dedicated his life to being a doctor and never once shied away from the pledge. The thing that struck me remarkable about him is that, everyone I talked to said the same thing - in all his years as a doctor, he never once charged one patient any fees. He took what they gave. And he thanked them all gracefully, even when their mode of payment were pumpkins. Literally. But that's still only the doctor.

He was a great guy too. The President of a hundred clubs and committees, he never once put his influence to ill use. Or let go of his humility. I was one of those, who would assume that once a person crossed 60, he was automatically senile going on retarded. This guy taught me otherwise, by example, of course. He blew me away with his intelligence and acumen, more times than I would care to count. But that was only one amongst a million other things I learned from his life. My point is...if I ever lived to see 80 (which I sincerely hope not, since my ideal age of death is preferably between 28 1/4 and 29 3/4)I'd want to live a life very much akin to his.

I had always harbored a grudge against him for having shown preferences amidst his grand-kids. But that was before I met him earlier this year. This old man with his extraordinary spirit totally grew on me. We made our peace. I'm glad we did, because that was the very last time we talked and shall remain so.

I hope he went to a better place. Because if any one deserves to, its him.

Chronicles of my lost mobiles

1. My first cell phone ended its rather short life by being thrown rather unceremoniously into a washing machine by my mother.

2. My second phone went missing in less than two months of its date of purchase. Sources claimed that it was last seen in the hands of an auto driver in the year 2005 but has been unable to find ever since.
3. For the sake of sanity, my third and most expensive phone was traded for a primitive nokia model.
4. Which, after having survived a nasty fall from a running bus got stolen on a holiday in a holiday resort in Mussorie!

The Sister Act

Ten days into the New Year and things are more screwed up than ever before. Today I got yelled at in college, by the PRINCIPAL, for standing at the back of a class! She gave me a lecture on how she didn't expect this from ME and how extremely disappointed she is with my 'disobedience'. At first, I found it incredibly funny and I just couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of it all. I always fantasized that I'd be expelled from college for doing something outrageously heroic, not for standing at the back of a class?! Sheesh. It was embarrassing to even tell my folks about it. But, the more I think about it the more it cheeses me off. One - I don't like being yelled at when there's no apparent fault of mine. Two - I like it even less when someone accuses me of letting them down. It brings back black memories.

For as long as I remember, people have been telling me how I've disappointed them and how they expected much more from me and how I've never worked hard enough to realise my true potential and such. But in my defense, I've always maintained that WYSIWYG. I've never given anyone any reason to expect anything from me. Yet they do and then accuse me of not living up to them. Somewhere, I know its crazy but it still hurts.

It makes me feel like I appear better than I really am. Like they prefer the pretend me to the real me. Like my best isn't good enough. Like I'm inadequate. Or worse, that beneath all the masks of everyday living I'm just a hollow shell.

MI 06

From the time I have come back home, I have been thinking of ways to write about Moodi and Mumbai. Everything about it is a weird paradox. We did a lot and we did nothing. We wanted to come home but we didn't want to leave. I'm happy here yet I wanna be there. There's so much to tell and I don't know where to start. So, I decided to limit to a list of 5 things that made the trip worth it.

So here are the highlights...

1. The IIT B Campus : The first two days I hated it. It had the feeling of being left out in a desert. Everything looked hopelessly the same and at any point of time you were always nowhere. But gradually, as we started to sketch a mind map with a constant, it started to grow on us. The 600 acres of land, lake and hill started to feel like a maze, just waiting to be entered and explored.

2. The Nites : I can safely say that the nights I spent in Powai - in and around IIT B are some of the best in my life. The concert featuring Sitar funk has to be the most amazing fusion music I have ever seen in my lifetime, one I'm sure I'll not forget in a hurry. And, If Kailash Kher's gig didn't render me to Kailasa, Naresh Kamat (the base Guitarist) sure did. If it wasn't Pronites we were at, then it was taking midnight strolls on the roads of the campus. I'd be willing to bet that those were the witness or even the source for every brainwave that an IITian has ever had.

3. Hiranandani : A stone throw away from the campus, this place is the ultimate hangout for the 'junta' of IIT outside of campus. There's nothing you can't get in there. But food is what steals the thunder from everything else. It houses some of the yummiest food stalls and cafes in all of Mumbai. We went there whenever we wanted a proper meal or a safe haven to retreat to. Pani puri in cafe galleria, candle-light booze in aura's, dabeli in one tiny stall, hundi in Shaolin, ice gola's in chill out and rich chocolat mousse in balloons & ribbons are things that I'll always remember this place by.

4. Mumbaiya nagari: Being a bloody cynic (personally I prefer critic) by nature, I don't take to new cities very fast. For example : I hated Bangalore on sight. It took me about 4 trips to get over it. But, all it took was a drive around Mumbai to furnish my feelings; I was going to like it - a lot. Everything about the city was king size. Its architecture splendid. The blend of the high rise horizons coupled with buildings of British confluence is just beautiful to watch. Enter the night lights and it takes on another entity. It's sure a city that never sleeps. Being a hardcore Hyderabadi, I'd never accustom to the speed of Mumbai and would never even want to, but if for a brief respite, I'd probably chose Mumbai.

5. The 'Junta': Big blue oafs, manas, spineless jellyfish, ogres, five o clock, lick ass lovers, 64 Ferguson cockroaches, mutter to myself boy, junta party, cute bastard, roshesh sarabhai, whisper boy... These are just some of the characters I wouldn't missed meeting for the whole world. Directly or indirectly, they provided us with non-stop entertainment throughout our stay in Mumbai. There are a lot of other characters, orgies, co-ords, CG s and most importantly, the ordinary junta ie. the sundry IITians who have made my trip definitely worth it.

I could go on and on about the innumerable little things that made my day like tamtams, panthers... hostels... sambar... wada pav... jalfrieze...parikrama... so on and so forth but it would still be a lost cause, for the list is simply inexhaustible.

Overtime, Moodi and Mumbai might not mean anything to me but one thing I know will eternally remain the same... It'll always bring a smile to my face or as psycho puts it - a twinkle in my eyes.