Since I'll have to do this sometime, I thought today should be as good as any other. Please get your popcorn, take your seat, make yourself comfortable and have the pleasure of watching me eat my words. This is going to take a while.
So like I said I would, I went to 'Bengaluru' for the weekend. Now, as most of you know, I'm not a big (or a small) fan of the city and have never been the one to actually understand what the mighty fuss was all about. This time though, in the two days that I was there, I caught a glimpse of the city I'd so blindly missed in all my previous trips there.
It was like I was seeing it for the first time; a completely different city emerging from the underneath the shadows of it's seemingly boring veneer. It had a pulse of its own that was almost throbbing in its intensity. Suddenly, I understood why they would despise, so fervently, every other place except their own. And why, they would find any other city, especially a one like Hyderabad, so lifeless.
Around four to five years ago, with my first trip to Mumbai, I had finished seeing every metro in the country. I decided then, that though I liked all of them equally, I'd never want to live in any of them. This trip changed that. For some reason, I could imagine living in that place, meeting 'the One' there, making it my home.
Of course, I squashed all these thoughts even before I could revel in 'em. Even as I'm writing it, my conscience is screaming bloody murder. I think I'll just stop here and move on to another track.
Yeah, so, the trip in itself was kickass fun. I did things I would never have thought myself capable of doing. We were on the streets the whole time we were there, shopping. Until I went broke. For the third time. Food was good. Ate goo at Koshy's, Momos at Tibetian and incredible hot fudge at Corner House. Bought grey market stuff at something-or-the-other plaza. Got seduced by the I Store and madly besotted with Blossoms. And missed going to Pecos!
But to give credit where its due, none of this would have been half as much fun if it hadn't been for Ha and Pink Panther. They were absolutely great. I couldn't have gotten better friends if I'd asked.
I can't wait to go again.
But before that, Chennai beckons. And so does my bed.
Sayonara.
Wednesday, March 25
Wednesday, March 18
Note to Self
Three simple rules to sanity.
1. Don't lose sleep.
2. Don't lose temper.
3. Don't lose mind.
1. Don't lose sleep.
2. Don't lose temper.
3. Don't lose mind.
Monday, March 16
Should blogs be regulated?
Hmmm. Let's see. As a blogger, “I object”. As a student of journalism I say "Definitely not." And, as a citizen of a Sovereign Socialist Secular Democratic Republic, I say "F*** you!"
Why? For one reason and one reason only. Because I can!
That is what a blog is about. It’s about you. Being able to say what you please. You’re not claiming it’s factual. Or that it’s legit. You’re not persuading, forcing or coercing people into agreeing with you. You’re simply exercising your fundamental right to express a personal opinion.
In a public forum, yes. That changes things, sure. We need to be careful about what we say, Yoo Hoo. Responsible publishing, that’s what we need. Agreed. Here’s my question but – What is it and where can I find it? Books? I don’t think so. Newspapers? Chuckle. TV? Yeah, right. So what then? Nothing, that's what.
Okay. For a moment, let’s be imaginative and suppose that we do agree upon the regulations bit. Another of my annoying questions – How does one suggest we implement it? From what I read somewhere, there are more than forty thousand active bloggers in India. And about ten times that, have registered blog accounts. So, how then is content amounting to at least a million pages (and counting) in web space going to be regulated? More importantly, by whom is it going to be done? Who gets to decide what or what not to put on my blog? Finally and most importantly, what is objectionable content?
Will all of us bloggers be given a list of taboo topics we can’t post on? Here's another one. Have a censorship body that has their illiterate geniuses scour our blogs to “regulate” them? Or better. Send us to blog rehabs so that we are cured out of the very urge to blog? Dude, I have to admit. Sounds like a plan, it does.
So, I ask again, should blogs be regulated?
Sure. I'd like to see them try.
Thursday, February 26
Growing up
Trust me guys, you can't possibly be more disappointed in me than I already am with myself. But believe me when I say I tried. Somehow each time I just ended up logging off in favor of something else. Mostly, it was either sleep or tv. So this time, I've safely shut myself in my room with nothing but an ambitious effort to post the entry that's been long due.
Like those fancy writers, I think, I'll start with the weather. Summer has arrived. In school, that would have meant lots of holidays, chess and Rasna. In college, it would been long lazy days in the campus followed by fun sessions under the Bodhi. And tons of Sprite and Mango bars, of course. Now at work, it doesn't matter crap. Be it sweltering heat or freezing cold in the real world, we have one common season all through the year - that of the AC .
It's pathetic but I actually made a list of all the things I should mention in my next post. Now I can't either find or remember even a single thing from it except something about a wisdom tooth. I have one growing rather oddly in some weird corner of my mouth. Its quite painful, really. Please don't be a smartass and tell me to go see one of those dentists. Because I hate dentists. More than I hate snakes. The only thing I hate more than snakes is blood. Which I hate more than milk. Which, by the way, is more than I hate wisdom teeth. So, just leave me be in my misery, alright?
One of the things that I didn't have in my list, but by the worth of 8 Oscars, warrants a mention is, of course, our very own rags-to-riches story - the Slumdog Saga. Object to the film on any cinematic principle all you want, and I'll be the first to second you. But if anyone so much as says one word on the lines of racism or showing India in a poor light or similar nonsense, I swear on all that's unholy, I'm going to dress them in black, bleed them and then leave them on a Tower of Silence for the vultures to feed.
On second thought, I think I know who else I'd like to do that to. The two Arians males in my life, that's who. I've given them way too much importance for my own good. They've expired all credit with me, every last cent and I'm so done with them. Permanently with at least one. But it's about time the both of them find themselves a new doormat. I quit.
The only thing that hasn't changed all that much from the last time is the bit about work. I've too much to do these days and it's taking over so large a portion of my life, that I don't do much outside of it. Strangely enough, I'm okay with it.
So this is "growing up" huh? Because if it is, it kinda sucks.
Like those fancy writers, I think, I'll start with the weather. Summer has arrived. In school, that would have meant lots of holidays, chess and Rasna. In college, it would been long lazy days in the campus followed by fun sessions under the Bodhi. And tons of Sprite and Mango bars, of course. Now at work, it doesn't matter crap. Be it sweltering heat or freezing cold in the real world, we have one common season all through the year - that of the AC .
It's pathetic but I actually made a list of all the things I should mention in my next post. Now I can't either find or remember even a single thing from it except something about a wisdom tooth. I have one growing rather oddly in some weird corner of my mouth. Its quite painful, really. Please don't be a smartass and tell me to go see one of those dentists. Because I hate dentists. More than I hate snakes. The only thing I hate more than snakes is blood. Which I hate more than milk. Which, by the way, is more than I hate wisdom teeth. So, just leave me be in my misery, alright?
One of the things that I didn't have in my list, but by the worth of 8 Oscars, warrants a mention is, of course, our very own rags-to-riches story - the Slumdog Saga. Object to the film on any cinematic principle all you want, and I'll be the first to second you. But if anyone so much as says one word on the lines of racism or showing India in a poor light or similar nonsense, I swear on all that's unholy, I'm going to dress them in black, bleed them and then leave them on a Tower of Silence for the vultures to feed.
On second thought, I think I know who else I'd like to do that to. The two Arians males in my life, that's who. I've given them way too much importance for my own good. They've expired all credit with me, every last cent and I'm so done with them. Permanently with at least one. But it's about time the both of them find themselves a new doormat. I quit.
The only thing that hasn't changed all that much from the last time is the bit about work. I've too much to do these days and it's taking over so large a portion of my life, that I don't do much outside of it. Strangely enough, I'm okay with it.
So this is "growing up" huh? Because if it is, it kinda sucks.
Sunday, February 8
The Days Past
So there's news and then there's news.
I'll start with the news. The blog’s famous. Yeah, this one. An unlikely possibility one would say, right? Wrong. A bunch of guys from work, by that I really mean, a bunch of bosses found out and read it. And I wouldn't even have known if it hadn't been for one kind soul that was nice enough to let me know that they know. I’ll tell you, it freaked me out. Because, if he hadn’t... I would have continued being me and probably would have gone on and on about work and such. Not that I’ll stop doing that. Writing for Writing’s Sake and all that, you see. However, I will certainly be censoring it a little bit to save myself from a couple of hundred lawsuits, if not for anything else. But these guys were all pretty cool about it. I think that’s because they were more amused by my antics than annoyed.
Thank you for that God. I now believe in you. Hallowed be thy name.
But seriously, with all the spy movies I watch and the superior criminal intelligence that I’m always boasting about having, you'd think I knew better. Turns out, I'm quite the moron at this sorta thing. Because, even a troll would have known -- Rule No 1: NO SPECIFICS! I did everything short of putting up my birth certificate up here. My god, I can almost see it, the writing on the wall – I’m a stalker’s dream come true!
The two or so things I got out of the whole thing: One, after everything that happened I can feel jubilant about the fact that all said they enjoyed reading the blog. I must be supremely self obsessed if I am capable of that. Two, if you are a fellow moron who is prone to divulging specifics in public forums, always remember that Google Alerts is watching you. Clean your stuff now, trust me, I learnt it the hard way.
Moving on the ‘then there’s news’ bit.
I must’ve aged ten years the past Friday. We had to rush Dad to a hospital at two o’ clock that morning. The doctors at one hospital diagnosed it as pneumonia. Since, we were pretty sure it wasn’t that, we took him to another, where they said that it was a heart attack – his third. Turns out ‘they’ were medical students who were just learning to read an ECG but freely dispensing useless diagnoses to anyone willing to listen. If I knew how, I’d have sued those guys for that. Anyway, when we did get through to the cardiologist, he put some sense into the situation. Finally, it turned out to be some serious gastric ailment, common to patients of the heart. Fortunately, he snapped out of it fine. But they wanted to keep him under observation for a couple of days which meant that I stayed overnight at the hospital with him.
Traumatic doesn’t quite cut it. It was tiring and terrifying and extreme, multiplied hundred.
Only, now that every thing’s okay, I’m able to smile and stuff. Or even write about such two things in the same post. Or else ... no, I don’t think I’d want to go there.
I just genuinely wish never to relive a day like that ever again. Ever.
I'll start with the news. The blog’s famous. Yeah, this one. An unlikely possibility one would say, right? Wrong. A bunch of guys from work, by that I really mean, a bunch of bosses found out and read it. And I wouldn't even have known if it hadn't been for one kind soul that was nice enough to let me know that they know. I’ll tell you, it freaked me out. Because, if he hadn’t... I would have continued being me and probably would have gone on and on about work and such. Not that I’ll stop doing that. Writing for Writing’s Sake and all that, you see. However, I will certainly be censoring it a little bit to save myself from a couple of hundred lawsuits, if not for anything else. But these guys were all pretty cool about it. I think that’s because they were more amused by my antics than annoyed.
Thank you for that God. I now believe in you. Hallowed be thy name.
But seriously, with all the spy movies I watch and the superior criminal intelligence that I’m always boasting about having, you'd think I knew better. Turns out, I'm quite the moron at this sorta thing. Because, even a troll would have known -- Rule No 1: NO SPECIFICS! I did everything short of putting up my birth certificate up here. My god, I can almost see it, the writing on the wall – I’m a stalker’s dream come true!
The two or so things I got out of the whole thing: One, after everything that happened I can feel jubilant about the fact that all said they enjoyed reading the blog. I must be supremely self obsessed if I am capable of that. Two, if you are a fellow moron who is prone to divulging specifics in public forums, always remember that Google Alerts is watching you. Clean your stuff now, trust me, I learnt it the hard way.
Moving on the ‘then there’s news’ bit.
I must’ve aged ten years the past Friday. We had to rush Dad to a hospital at two o’ clock that morning. The doctors at one hospital diagnosed it as pneumonia. Since, we were pretty sure it wasn’t that, we took him to another, where they said that it was a heart attack – his third. Turns out ‘they’ were medical students who were just learning to read an ECG but freely dispensing useless diagnoses to anyone willing to listen. If I knew how, I’d have sued those guys for that. Anyway, when we did get through to the cardiologist, he put some sense into the situation. Finally, it turned out to be some serious gastric ailment, common to patients of the heart. Fortunately, he snapped out of it fine. But they wanted to keep him under observation for a couple of days which meant that I stayed overnight at the hospital with him.
Traumatic doesn’t quite cut it. It was tiring and terrifying and extreme, multiplied hundred.
Only, now that every thing’s okay, I’m able to smile and stuff. Or even write about such two things in the same post. Or else ... no, I don’t think I’d want to go there.
I just genuinely wish never to relive a day like that ever again. Ever.
Wednesday, January 28
A Train of Thought
That appraisal thingy happened today. Ten minutes into the meeting and I kind of tuned out and started dreaming. Just when things were getting interesting, my manager worked me out of my stupor by showing me some figures. By company standards, I did decently. As "expected" of me. So, if they are starting with the laying off, I won't be the very first to go and that is enough to soothe my ruffled feathers. The rest, I don't really care about.
Since that would make for a really small post, I thought I'd put some random stuff as it floats through my head just now.
That Stupid Cousin - marrying another Southie like there were no other races to choose from. How am I ever going to survive the wedding? There isn't going to be even a single good looking guy in the vicinity. And Chicago in March, she's kidding me or what! I'm NOT going.
The New Perfume - I think I'm getting drunk on it. In my state of intoxication, I hit upon a brilliant idea. I'm going to use this perfume to snare some filthy rich guy and then use his money to get more perfumes like this made exclusively for me. What do you think?
The Yearly lists - I'm going to get started on them from tomorrow. Should I put them on here? No. Well, maybe. Maybe not. Why not? Yeah, why not. You know what, I think I will.
The Guy - He's beginning to bore the hell out of me. Will I ever find someone who won't? Will I?
Slumdog Millionaire - Why Freida Pinto? Really, why? And yeah, pretty good stuff - the film. But I've seen a lot that were better. Way better.
The Company Party - Coming up. I hate dressing up for these things. Parties are for people who drink, dance and/or hit on other people. Not for people who go to watch these people hit on those people.
Writing - A few say I'm writing differently these days. Really? Hmmm. I don't think so. But then, what do I know? I rarely read most of what I write.
Sleep - Shit! It's 2'o yet again. To bed, NOW!
Since that would make for a really small post, I thought I'd put some random stuff as it floats through my head just now.
That Stupid Cousin - marrying another Southie like there were no other races to choose from. How am I ever going to survive the wedding? There isn't going to be even a single good looking guy in the vicinity. And Chicago in March, she's kidding me or what! I'm NOT going.
The New Perfume - I think I'm getting drunk on it. In my state of intoxication, I hit upon a brilliant idea. I'm going to use this perfume to snare some filthy rich guy and then use his money to get more perfumes like this made exclusively for me. What do you think?
The Yearly lists - I'm going to get started on them from tomorrow. Should I put them on here? No. Well, maybe. Maybe not. Why not? Yeah, why not. You know what, I think I will.
The Guy - He's beginning to bore the hell out of me. Will I ever find someone who won't? Will I?
Slumdog Millionaire - Why Freida Pinto? Really, why? And yeah, pretty good stuff - the film. But I've seen a lot that were better. Way better.
The Company Party - Coming up. I hate dressing up for these things. Parties are for people who drink, dance and/or hit on other people. Not for people who go to watch these people hit on those people.
Writing - A few say I'm writing differently these days. Really? Hmmm. I don't think so. But then, what do I know? I rarely read most of what I write.
Sleep - Shit! It's 2'o yet again. To bed, NOW!
Tuesday, January 27
A Holiday
Last week, I just packed my bags one day and decided to head out of town. Along the way, I knew I had to go to a place with a beach, so I chose Vizag. As it happened, I also went to my Mum's village - I beg your pardon - 'town' from there and then returned to Vizag for my flight back home.
The trip was in all interesting. I'll give it that. But did it, well, meet its objective? Hell No! I got neither some peace nor some quiet. So, Get them tattooed on your body Gajini style if you have to, but do NOT do any of the following while going on an impromptu vacation (***especially the lone female traveller):
1. Get a sleeper class train ticket.
I had to use considerable charm on the TC and pay him twice my ticket's worth to upgrade it to an AC one. I slept fitfully for the first time in weeks. Maybe excessive spending is what it takes to get to me sleep peacefully. A comforting thought, if there ever was one.
2. Go to a city where you have family.
For obvious reasons.
3. Go to a city like Vizag expecting it to be a real city.
Because it's not. It's a small town with villagers for people and decent stuff for food. Also, if you are modern female who looks the part, its very advisable to wear a Burkha at all times.
4. Go to any place with an overwhelmingly large Telugu population.
They are incapable of doing the one thing you want them to do - leave you alone. But what they are capable of doing is talk - loudly and endlessly until you are ready to let your ear drums explode rather than to listen to them.
5. Go to meet your Evil Grand Mom.
Now, there's something I will never retry doing. Ever. I should've finished her off when I had the chance. Hey, I tried! ( as a kid, I set her cot on fire.) But she stubbornly refuses to move on to a better place. Damn thing, that.
6. Hit on any guy you meet along the way.
The three guys that caught my attention were all tall, dark and gorgeous. And also (i) shady (ii) stupid and (iii) incompetent, respectively. The third deserves a special mention. He was the pilot of my flight. Thanks to his crash landing, I now have a concussion and a big bump to show for it as memorabilia.
It just has to be that way for me, the ending of all my trips - Memorable.
The trip was in all interesting. I'll give it that. But did it, well, meet its objective? Hell No! I got neither some peace nor some quiet. So, Get them tattooed on your body Gajini style if you have to, but do NOT do any of the following while going on an impromptu vacation (***especially the lone female traveller):
1. Get a sleeper class train ticket.
I had to use considerable charm on the TC and pay him twice my ticket's worth to upgrade it to an AC one. I slept fitfully for the first time in weeks. Maybe excessive spending is what it takes to get to me sleep peacefully. A comforting thought, if there ever was one.
2. Go to a city where you have family.
For obvious reasons.
3. Go to a city like Vizag expecting it to be a real city.
Because it's not. It's a small town with villagers for people and decent stuff for food. Also, if you are modern female who looks the part, its very advisable to wear a Burkha at all times.
4. Go to any place with an overwhelmingly large Telugu population.
They are incapable of doing the one thing you want them to do - leave you alone. But what they are capable of doing is talk - loudly and endlessly until you are ready to let your ear drums explode rather than to listen to them.
5. Go to meet your Evil Grand Mom.
Now, there's something I will never retry doing. Ever. I should've finished her off when I had the chance. Hey, I tried! ( as a kid, I set her cot on fire.) But she stubbornly refuses to move on to a better place. Damn thing, that.
6. Hit on any guy you meet along the way.
The three guys that caught my attention were all tall, dark and gorgeous. And also (i) shady (ii) stupid and (iii) incompetent, respectively. The third deserves a special mention. He was the pilot of my flight. Thanks to his crash landing, I now have a concussion and a big bump to show for it as memorabilia.
It just has to be that way for me, the ending of all my trips - Memorable.
Tuesday, January 20
Back to the Blog!
Where have I been?
Well, the same place I was the last time I made an entry. Only, a lot lot busier. But that's not why I didn't write. It was all thanks to the Performance Appraisal which was on the past month. That had me writing pages and pages about how I contributed to the company and/or saved the world. Since I didn’t do a single thing for either, I struggled strong and hard to find a few facts that could fill at least one field in the form. When that didn't work, I went on to fabricate qualities, incidents and achievements that even my mum wouldn’t know about me. Following the traumatic ordeal, I just couldn't stand the idea of writing another single word about myself.
When I finally did get around to it, my stupid illiterate idiot of an ISP abducted my state-of-the-art router (which King Kong so graciously brought for me) and absconded with it. It took me two visits to recover it and then two more weeks of intense user manual reading to get it to work. Before I could even put it to use, things got all heated up at work and there was just so much happening all around that I didn't really have the time or the inclination to sit and write about it.
But now that I do, I'm going to go on until someone strongly suggests that I shut up.
Work. Well, that's mostly what I'm so tied up with these days. And willingly at that. I think I’m finally developing the taste for it. Today, I recall the wise words of a dear friend who once said “It will get so bad, you’ll begin to like it”. This must be it. But all things considered, it’s shaping out quite decently, I’d say. Touch wood. We wouldn't want the Gods getting any unwanted ideas, would we?
Oh! That reminds me, the brilliant idea that's been mulling in my head for the past month or so is that of moving base off the mother ship. Not that I’ll actually do it, but I’m still ideating. All the friends seem to be having a swell time with the parties, roomies and the jazz. And, I do nothing but laze around. Besides, I'm beginning to think that if I don't move out now, I never might. Shudder.
And yeah, here's it - the realization of the month. I've been comatose for most of my life. Not that anyone would be inclined to disagree, but just to emphasize on the point... I am! I'm light years behind most living things on everything. I found out two weeks ago that the 'Rock On' sound track is absolutely awesome. I wouldn't stop raving about it. Some humored me while others just politely told me that it had been passé for two months now!
Last week was the first time I went go-karting thanks to RR of course. If it wasn't for all our 'dates', I never would have gone to all the places that I have or done the things that he made me do. God bless him. Anyhow, I was so high on it the next day, I yelled at everyone who wasn't as psyched about it as I was. Most weren't. They had already done it a few times in the last few years, they tell me.
And all that is excluding the Poison fiasco. I don't think I even want to go there. I have to do a few centuries worth of time travel if I have to arrive at today's dating scene.
If I have to get on with my vision 2015, I better get started pronto huh?
Knowing me, I'll just sit on my ass and dream all day of my imaginary Prince coming to rescue me from my five storied dump. Sigh!
PS: Please forgive all the alliteration. The flow of words just went that way. It isn't intentional. Wait, am I doing it again? I think I am. Sorry!
Saturday, December 6
New and Improved
As most of you might already know, by any standards, I’m considered quite a catch.
I mean, what's not to like? I look like an ugly guy. I’m a terrific liar. I have the worst memory you will ever see in a non-retard. I hate making, answering or returning calls. I have an opinion on almost everything I know and an even stronger one on those which I don’t know. I can’t sing, dance or do any of the things that most females do. And, now I have yet another priceless virtue to add to my cap. I’m a certifiable schizophrenic.
There’s just no explanation for the way I’m currently acting. My ‘to-do’ list is four pages (single spaced, both sides) and counting. Yet, I won’t do anything about it. Instead, I’ve been lazing around all month long – listening to Pink Floyd, watching Sex and the City, reading Lolita and taking midnight showers. Oh and the day before last, I karaoked and danced. Willingly! I even agreed to go out for dinner and drinks with some guys from work.
See? The real me wouldn’t do any of these. Okay, I’d do Floyd but never like a crazed maniac. And I would have never have been caught dead watching Sex and the City. My god, I still don’t get why anyone would want to cast Sarah Jessica Parker as the lead in anything. (This is the former me speaking err... writing) The new me watches her anyway. Lolita – now that’s something I would have read. But my reaction to the book is again very unlike me. I found it more intriguing and yes, arousing than repulsive and repugnant which essentially means that something is very wrong. The dinner is among all these, the only thing I’m glad to be doing. But having said that, I’m gonna puke if any one as much as says “alco.”
Ironically, my mum, being cunning in a way that only mothers can be, is one of the only to immediately identify this change. She has been using it to her advantage rather unashamedly. In case I forgot to say, the new version (me 1.1) is rather meek. So, just the other day, she almost got me to sign up for the frigging Army. I know. WTF rt?!She even got the application and everything. Post the recent happenings in Mumbai, that is one very pissed off woman. I hope for my sake, that they get those b******* extradited from Pak and soon. Because, yesterday, she slyly enquired about my thoughts on the ideal age of marriage for the modern woman. I said never. She smiled. It was uncanny to another smile I got last year when she enquired about my thoughts on joining Shaw. Guess what? I said, never. And that was when she smiled that smile. That creature is seriously freaking out both versions of me. But then again, I’m not too worried. Because me (1.1) is always upbeat, so upbeat that I'm beginning to think that I could kill someone in all my excitement.
And now, at the stroke of the midnight hour, I'm going to go take a shower. And then maybe watch some quality porn. Who knows? After the last two weeks, I wouldn't be suprised if I actually did it.
Wednesday, November 5
How the mighty fall...!
Since the day I started the blog, there hasn't been a single month that has passed by without me having published a post. Like most milestones in my life, the 100th post became the excuse I was looking for to call it a chapter. So, I vowed off writing for a couple of months, closed shop and decided to go underground. The latter was easy. The former is proving to be another story.
Never has my need to write been stronger than it is now. I can't begin to describe how its been for the past few days. Last year I thought, Cud took the cake for breaking her leg by falling off a sidewalk. I should have known better to think Psycho wouldn't compete. She did. And she won - hands and legs down, if I may add. Only, she has done a hell lot more than break her leg. She suffered multiple injuries to her leg and arm in some freak accident by actually plummeting into the space between a platform and a running train.
I've pondered and wondered and finally speculated extensively about the "how's" of it in a variety of angles and scenarios. I can't. My imagination fails me. Never having been too crazy about modesty, I'm sure Psycho is just waiting to show off to everybody how, even in her fall, she stuck to her guns and defied gravity, death and logic, all at once.
Those of you who have ever been a part of a gang will know how its like. If you have say, five people in it, you do everything: book movie tickets, make restaurant reservations, send sms', remember birthdays, shop for things, collect contributions, divide expenses, all in fives. Eventually, it'll come as naturally to you as the count of the plates you'd set at home for dinner.
But not unlike many relationships, ours started showing its cracks. We all got so comfy with each other that we got complacent. We passed out of college with an assurance that nothing would change. But the truth was that nothing remained the same. We had become so cocky that we didn't bother with even common courtesies like calling or meeting anymore. To cut a long story short, we got lulled into living our lives and we simply started taking each other for granted.
Nevertheless, life has a funny way of shaking you out of your reverie. The accident did more than just make a point. It has driven me stark raving mad. Blessed as I am with the capacity to think only good thoughts, I don't think I've ever (other than for mum & dad) prayed, feared or worried for anyone as much as I've done in the past few days for this crazy kid. While she's around, she's always irritating the heck out of me and yet, for all that, I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't do if it would make her hurt just a lil lesser or get her to feel a bit better.
Never has my need to write been stronger than it is now. I can't begin to describe how its been for the past few days. Last year I thought, Cud took the cake for breaking her leg by falling off a sidewalk. I should have known better to think Psycho wouldn't compete. She did. And she won - hands and legs down, if I may add. Only, she has done a hell lot more than break her leg. She suffered multiple injuries to her leg and arm in some freak accident by actually plummeting into the space between a platform and a running train.
I've pondered and wondered and finally speculated extensively about the "how's" of it in a variety of angles and scenarios. I can't. My imagination fails me. Never having been too crazy about modesty, I'm sure Psycho is just waiting to show off to everybody how, even in her fall, she stuck to her guns and defied gravity, death and logic, all at once.
Those of you who have ever been a part of a gang will know how its like. If you have say, five people in it, you do everything: book movie tickets, make restaurant reservations, send sms', remember birthdays, shop for things, collect contributions, divide expenses, all in fives. Eventually, it'll come as naturally to you as the count of the plates you'd set at home for dinner.
But not unlike many relationships, ours started showing its cracks. We all got so comfy with each other that we got complacent. We passed out of college with an assurance that nothing would change. But the truth was that nothing remained the same. We had become so cocky that we didn't bother with even common courtesies like calling or meeting anymore. To cut a long story short, we got lulled into living our lives and we simply started taking each other for granted.
Nevertheless, life has a funny way of shaking you out of your reverie. The accident did more than just make a point. It has driven me stark raving mad. Blessed as I am with the capacity to think only good thoughts, I don't think I've ever (other than for mum & dad) prayed, feared or worried for anyone as much as I've done in the past few days for this crazy kid. While she's around, she's always irritating the heck out of me and yet, for all that, I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't do if it would make her hurt just a lil lesser or get her to feel a bit better.
Friday, August 22
I wonder...
I wonder...
1. Why I went out with a married man.
2. What I'll do after The Firm.
3. Whether its wrong to dislike a person because they employ a 12 year old kid to do their chores.
4. Why people always assume I'm a northie.
5. How girls my age don't fear marriage.
6. Why being single and/or vegetarian is so unacceptable anymore.
7. If I'll ever have enough money to do Philanthropy.
8. Why I feel so alone no matter who I'm with or where I go.
9. When my hidden talent will surface.
10. Why I keep thinking of all the lies that will be revealed after I die.
1. Why I went out with a married man.
2. What I'll do after The Firm.
3. Whether its wrong to dislike a person because they employ a 12 year old kid to do their chores.
4. Why people always assume I'm a northie.
5. How girls my age don't fear marriage.
6. Why being single and/or vegetarian is so unacceptable anymore.
7. If I'll ever have enough money to do Philanthropy.
8. Why I feel so alone no matter who I'm with or where I go.
9. When my hidden talent will surface.
10. Why I keep thinking of all the lies that will be revealed after I die.
Thursday, May 15
Come what 'may'
Okay, first the bad news. I didn't make TISS. How bad do I feel about it? Not much. My ego is wounded but that's about it. I feel a little sorry for Dad, he had hopes. For some unknown reason, he still likes to believe I'm IIM material. Sad. For me, it was never even about the course or the place. It was simply about whether I would be able to make the cut. I didn't. No excuses. No regrets. But a tip for someone who wants to make TISS - if they offer to give you admission without the hostel seat, please say YES!
Moving on to the good news. I got my final results last week. I did pretty good. Which means that as of today I'm a full fledged graduate, 'bachelors et all'. I have to admit, it makes for a satisfying thought.
Even other than that, the past two weeks have been immensely productive. I enrolled for that course in NALSAR. I hope to do it justice. And, I got my learner's license. Now I can officially prowl the streets of the city, road rage style. Also, I went to a Strings concert which was surprisingly good, considering that it was free for all. Most importantly, I met with my new doctor, a seriously cool guy. I have a feeling, its the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
That aside, on the occasion of our graduation, all of us - i.e the gang have worked out some predictions for our intended 10 year re-union. They will go here, as on record, for future reference.
Time : December 2018.
Place : My futuristic 'bungalow.'
People : The gang and their partners only (on account of my house being a kids free zone.)
Predictions :
Amen -
Profession - Stay at home mom.
Partner - A dress wearing, beard growing, conservative man of a serious disposition who has a thing for play acting in the bed room.
Kids - 4-5.
State of being - Content with wifely duties.
Jughead -
Profession - An advertising executive/ successful food critic.
Partner - A "healthy" rounded Chef whose love for food will match his love for Jughead and vice versa .
Kids - 2. Both adopted. An exotic looking girl from Africa and blue eyed boy from Britain.
State of being - Hungry.
Cud -
Profession - A hardcore journalist/lecturer/UN official.
Partner- Intelligence Op/Journalist/Banker, preferably artistic, eccentric and insensitive with a non-existant libido and a high ego quotient .
Kids - 1.
State of being - Indifferent.
Pyscho -
Profession - A teacher/erotic or romance writer with an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder coupled with a manic repressive disorder.
Partner - A Good looking, naxal/shady type, with the sensitivity of a little girl and a thing for all things filmy.
Kids - 2.
State of being - Pregnant and horny.
Mini -
Profession - Corporate snob.
Partner - Twice her age/ has a cute elder brother, dimpled and egoistic with an affinity for arrogance and a careless disregard for convention.
Kids - 1.
State of being - Comatose.
Moving on to the good news. I got my final results last week. I did pretty good. Which means that as of today I'm a full fledged graduate, 'bachelors et all'. I have to admit, it makes for a satisfying thought.
Even other than that, the past two weeks have been immensely productive. I enrolled for that course in NALSAR. I hope to do it justice. And, I got my learner's license. Now I can officially prowl the streets of the city, road rage style. Also, I went to a Strings concert which was surprisingly good, considering that it was free for all. Most importantly, I met with my new doctor, a seriously cool guy. I have a feeling, its the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
That aside, on the occasion of our graduation, all of us - i.e the gang have worked out some predictions for our intended 10 year re-union. They will go here, as on record, for future reference.
Time : December 2018.
Place : My futuristic 'bungalow.'
People : The gang and their partners only (on account of my house being a kids free zone.)
Predictions :
Amen -
Profession - Stay at home mom.
Partner - A dress wearing, beard growing, conservative man of a serious disposition who has a thing for play acting in the bed room.
Kids - 4-5.
State of being - Content with wifely duties.
Jughead -
Profession - An advertising executive/ successful food critic.
Partner - A "healthy" rounded Chef whose love for food will match his love for Jughead and vice versa .
Kids - 2. Both adopted. An exotic looking girl from Africa and blue eyed boy from Britain.
State of being - Hungry.
Cud -
Profession - A hardcore journalist/lecturer/UN official.
Partner- Intelligence Op/Journalist/Banker, preferably artistic, eccentric and insensitive with a non-existant libido and a high ego quotient .
Kids - 1.
State of being - Indifferent.
Pyscho -
Profession - A teacher/erotic or romance writer with an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder coupled with a manic repressive disorder.
Partner - A Good looking, naxal/shady type, with the sensitivity of a little girl and a thing for all things filmy.
Kids - 2.
State of being - Pregnant and horny.
Mini -
Profession - Corporate snob.
Partner - Twice her age/ has a cute elder brother, dimpled and egoistic with an affinity for arrogance and a careless disregard for convention.
Kids - 1.
State of being - Comatose.
Sunday, March 30
Au revoir amigo.
Assy's leaving. For real.
I am happy and proud. He's finally out of that miserable job and heading to do the thing he is best at. There are very few people that I have come across in my time who are as immensely talented as that guy and if anyone deserves that job in Dubai, its him. Besides I want him to go so that he'll also serve as a useful contact out there to smuggle back stuff for me.
On a more serious note, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Amongst all the people I have in my life, he's the only one that I would call to talk to. I guess its because he's the only one with whom I've felt a kinship like I've never found with anyone else. I can't even count the number of nights that we whiled away discussing topics ranging from movies to books, games to earthworms, Godfather to Pink Panther, friends to lovers and everything in between.
It's never been a mushy or senti friendship, ours. Just a very close and simple one. And now he'll be gone. Sure, there'll be phones and e-mails and all the crap. Only it won't be enough. Not nearly enough. Because he'll no longer be able to call me at weird times in the night and demand that I entertain him. And I'll no longer get to message him at odd hours to describe some funny incident of my day. And I most certainly won't have anyone to address my male related queries to.
Dammit!
Why can't I trust easily like most normal people? Why do I have to hold out until I pick one person in a thousand and then bare my soul? Every time I make the unfortunate mistake of getting used to letting someone in, he has to go away. Not just to another city or state but to a country half way across the world.
It's happened so many times that one would expect that I'd have gotten immune to it by now. Somehow, I don't. It hurts just as much each and every time. This time though, I don't even know how to be feeling or more accurately, how to stop feeling.
PS : I want to be going away someplace too. But on second and a more selfish thought, will it even make a difference to anybody? Never mind. It sounds too much like looking for compliments more than a stray thought anyway.
I am happy and proud. He's finally out of that miserable job and heading to do the thing he is best at. There are very few people that I have come across in my time who are as immensely talented as that guy and if anyone deserves that job in Dubai, its him. Besides I want him to go so that he'll also serve as a useful contact out there to smuggle back stuff for me.
On a more serious note, I can't help but feel sorry for myself. Amongst all the people I have in my life, he's the only one that I would call to talk to. I guess its because he's the only one with whom I've felt a kinship like I've never found with anyone else. I can't even count the number of nights that we whiled away discussing topics ranging from movies to books, games to earthworms, Godfather to Pink Panther, friends to lovers and everything in between.
It's never been a mushy or senti friendship, ours. Just a very close and simple one. And now he'll be gone. Sure, there'll be phones and e-mails and all the crap. Only it won't be enough. Not nearly enough. Because he'll no longer be able to call me at weird times in the night and demand that I entertain him. And I'll no longer get to message him at odd hours to describe some funny incident of my day. And I most certainly won't have anyone to address my male related queries to.
Dammit!
Why can't I trust easily like most normal people? Why do I have to hold out until I pick one person in a thousand and then bare my soul? Every time I make the unfortunate mistake of getting used to letting someone in, he has to go away. Not just to another city or state but to a country half way across the world.
It's happened so many times that one would expect that I'd have gotten immune to it by now. Somehow, I don't. It hurts just as much each and every time. This time though, I don't even know how to be feeling or more accurately, how to stop feeling.
PS : I want to be going away someplace too. But on second and a more selfish thought, will it even make a difference to anybody? Never mind. It sounds too much like looking for compliments more than a stray thought anyway.
Saturday, March 8
Dirty little secret.
When a realization dawns, it’s a funny feeling. Kinda like déjà vu. Suddenly, everything falls into place and begins to make sense. Self realizations are even more so. They just sort of hit you out of the blue and nothing’s ever the same again. I had something like that happen to me today.
So you know how All American Rejects' “Dirty Little Secret” uses the Post Secret projectg. It has me hooked. In a nut shell, it’s a forum where people from all walks of life send across self-made post cards with their inner most secrets etched on them. Most of these send anonymously while others don't. Either which way, a majority of them are honest-to- god confessions and there in lay the appeal of the whole thing.
The thing that particularly interested me about it all is that these cards don’t talk about actions. They are about thoughts. What it translates into is that most of us are not as afraid of the things we’ve done so much as we are of the thoughts that we have thought. A lot of the times we build walls in our heads to keep from having to acknowledge the vileness of our thoughts so that we can sleep soundly at night, pretending they didn’t exist. Few have the courage to face up to the truth of their thoughts.
So, for the past few days, I’ve been wondering about the effectiveness of the whole project. Today, it occurred to me out of nowhere that it doesn’t matter. I’m not one of these select few and that, I prefer the self- delusional version of everything that concerns me to the factual one. Also, I think that whether we face up to them or not, secrets and confessions are best left to brew in the confines of the mind. That way they’ll never need be judged by another.
Friday, February 8
A midwinter night's dream
I remember distinctly, this epiphanic moment in time when I went to Durgam Cheruvu ( the supposed secret lake) with a friend, on a serene winter night and talked about everything and nothing. We sat for a long time on a low wall with our feet dangling in the air, him facing the lake and me an office building, each remarking on the beauty of the sight that we were witnessing. His remark made sense. Mine didn't. I was looking at an ordinary high rise corporate building and was finding it as appealing as the splendid lake itself. I fumbled for an explanation, except I couldn't manage one. I was after all, supposed to be the big nature buff. So, I promptly changed the subject and let it go.
That is until I came back home and tucked in. I began running the scene in my head over and over until I understood it. I looked at those guys coming out of the building, chatting and laughing, enjoying a late night tea break and I had wanted to be a part of them. I saw a solitary figure working in one of the top floors who would occasionally glance out of a cozy dim lit cabin and I had wanted it to be mine. Simply, I wanted to be there, doing that, being them. It was as innocent as that. My utopian fantasy of the corporate world.
Now that I have an opportunity to be that, I don't know if I want it anymore. Between then and now, I've seen way too many people graduate from college with brilliant placement offers, big brand names and high pay packets only to find them, a couple of years later, burnt out and creatively dead. Sure, they are doing well for themselves and a few even like what they've become. But most are doing what they are because it is too hard to stop and start anew. More importantly because, its too hard to say no to the big name n the big bucks and go chasing after the big dream.
I don't blame them. Not everyone has a dream or the guts to go after it.Take for instance, me. I don't have either. However, what I do have is the knowledge that I can never be content to be in a place where I'll have to sell my soul to make a living. I won't ever want to be exorcised off it. Particularly, one as creative as mine. I want to do the thing that I'm best at, whatever that is. And I want everything else to orbit around that. Not vice versa.
Having said that, to all the people who've been trying to get me to stop thinking, I want to say "I hear". I realise, that it does not necessarily have to be an either/or situation. And, that I don't need to be mulling over issues as vital as these at this point of time in life. But I'm glad I did.
Now, I can take a decision. Unless, I go schizo, I'm going to be taking that job. Not because I'm still harbouring hopes of getting myself a lake-view-top-floor cabin. Or because I can't get myself to say no to the money. I'm going to take it simply because I just have to see for myself, a thing, before I write it off.
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