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.
Sunday, March 30
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.
Sunday, January 6
Things I learned in '07
1. I've turned into a total and irrevocable cyber junkie.
2. Dating can make you appreciate the beauty of an all-girls.
3. Eating out @ bankruptcy is essential for my state of being.
4. I contribute more to auto drivers anonymous than I do to CRY.
5. I have the worst sense of fashion this side of Asia.
6. Making an interview go exactly how you want it to go takes the fun out of getting the job.
7. All that about younger generations being smarter is fresh bull. Look at my juniors if you don't believe me.
8. Learning NOT to say no is still much harder than learning to say no.
9. Making out in a movie theater is an art that requires genuine talent, commitment and patience.
10. My Dad went to an IIM because my Mum challenged him to.
11. A giant clumsy oaf will tend to assume the grace of the Queen of England when standing next to me.
12. I'm as accommodating as an RTC bus after 7 p.m on a weekday during an auto-strike.
13. Guitars rust beautifully. Trust me. I know.
14. The level of my commitment to a cause is directly dependent upon enjoyment, desire, shame, money or vengeance. In any order.
15. There's nothing uglier than seeing 50 females wriggle on a dance floor. Nothing.
16. Its hard to lose something no body wants. If you know what I mean.
17. The last sip of beer tastes infinitely better than the first.
18. The life span of a mobile in my hands is at best, half a year and at worst..well, never mind.
19. Pandit S Khujrawalah hit it bulls eye. Arians are responsible for the best and worst things that happen to me.
20. Abdul Kalam is still my President. Madame President Tai can go _______.
21. I hope that the Bachchan family dies the way most narcissists normally do - severe case of overkill.
22. 90 hours of bus travel can cause serious physical and psychological trauma to sane creatures. Insane females on the other hand have fun. They play sleeping beauty.
23. Vegetarians and singletons are rapidly going extinct.Only, nobody's mourning the loss.
24. Addictive substances and artificial intoxicants bore me. Its the consumption of soft drinks that has exceeded a number beyond which I cannot count.
25. North India is filled with lecherous bastards.
26. The South with impotent idiots.
27. People don't take me seriously when I tell them that I'm going to die of Alzheimer's. They'll admit I was right. Only I won't remember.
28. Relationships can eventually fuck your happiness. On second thoughts, replace 'can' with 'will'.
29. Gambling professionally is going to be a big part of my life. Its in the blood.
30. Timid looking females can have a fetish for exotic underwear. That's right. Polka dots are supposedly in. For more on this subject, contact Tap.
31. Hips don't lie was a better track when I didn't know what it meant.
32. It is possible to have a real big crush on a guy simply because you happen to dig the way he writes. The fact the he has an adorable twin brother is of course, irrelevant.
33. One more black T-shirt is all that will take, to drive Ramlal (my dobhi) to go shopping for me. It ll happen soon enough. I'll wait.
34. Writing has become one of those things I could do reasonably well once upon a time but can't anymore.
35. The secret behind my success will never be any milk product. It will be pure & unadulterated jealousy.
36. The only way I'll ever run is if I'm being chased by eunuchs.
37. If Freud's interpretation of dreams is anything to go by, then I must be more sexually frustrated than all the Sisters of Charity put together.
38. The bloody yanks are abducting all my favorite people and making them believe that it is by their own free will. I hate them.
39.The best thing to gift your ex-boyfriend for his birthday is a Venus Fly trap. Or variations of it.
40. Listening to parent's romance is as gross as watching same sex porn.
41. You can break a bone by falling from a side walk.
42. Life without Spencer Reid is like life without Roddick - loveless.
43. Even Harry Potter can disappoint. Terribly.
44. Watching your bank balance bleed in transaction charges can do serious damage to your mental health.
45. If you wanna learn all about the various types of deaths and graves in a cemetery, ask Paul at St.Johns. Trust me, he knows his stuff.
46. Blue tooth is the best thing that happened to me since battery operated toothbrush.
47. Best friends are irreplaceable. Boyfriends are not.
48. You can't make relationships work. They either do or they don't. After a while, most don't.
49. Life always has delayed reactions to my plans.
50. Blogging is therapeutic to the blogger's psyche and terminal to the reader's life.
Inspired by Communicatrix and my genetically imbibed love for useless lists.
Thursday, December 6
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 27
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!
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!
Thursday, January 11
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.
Monday, January 1
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 29
Sweet November... ?!!
This month has been crazy. First, I do something I vowed I'll never do. And, if it had involved just me, I would probably've written about it. (taking into consideration my newly developed masochistic tendencies, it would've been truly ecstatic to watch me eat my words. ) While we are there, I take this opportunity to publicly announce that as of November 17th '06, I've crossed onto the dark side. Secondly, I'd like to apologize in general, to all the people I've wrongly judged/condemned on this issue. The people who have been a victim of such behaviour will know what I'm talking about. Damn.... these cryptics are so not my style. If only I wasn't bound by my word, it would've been such great fun to relive that experience.
Moving on to greener pastures, the topic of conversation for the past few weeks in college has been mood indigo and moodi indigo only. Starting at the start, initiating the discussions, planning the details, wading through the deliberations.. its finally paid off. Or so I'd like to think. As of yesterday, the tickets have been confirmed and if everything goes according to plan (which it never does) I should be celebrating my Christmas in Mumbai.
To boast of an achievement, I've managed to put my past experiences behind me... (read my very first post ) and try my hand at driving again.... all thanks to Snea. And, the best part being... I haven't caused any permanent damage to her bike or completely killed her as yet. Yipeeeee!!! I can't but feel proud of myself in situations like this. I think I' ll stop here before I jinx it. I'll write about it only when I cease to be a potential health hazard to all human and animal life forms.
On another dismal note, three friends of mine have all come to me with news. Apparently, all of them have been struck by Cupid. Worse, they sound disgustingly smug. Love notes, e-mails, phone calls, dates, gifts, engagements....???!! I think I'm gonna die listening to all of it. The guys that I thought were so beyond all this crap are now flag bearers of mushhood. Such losers! I hope all of them are in love with the same girl and then kill each other over her. And that's what I'd call poetic justice.
And now, I'm being co-erced into giving a lecture in a national seminar on topics like India's role in SAARC and ASEAN and India's relationship with the US and the EU and a debate on the same. (I know... what the hell!!! rt) I think I know more about the secret sexual desires of single men than International Relations and Indian Politics. To add to it all, there might be a possible involvement of mine in the organization of yet another fete.
If I can get out all this, maybe.. just maybe I' ll begin to believe that there is a God somewhere! Hey... everyone has a right to wishful thinking!
Moving on to greener pastures, the topic of conversation for the past few weeks in college has been mood indigo and moodi indigo only. Starting at the start, initiating the discussions, planning the details, wading through the deliberations.. its finally paid off. Or so I'd like to think. As of yesterday, the tickets have been confirmed and if everything goes according to plan (which it never does) I should be celebrating my Christmas in Mumbai.
To boast of an achievement, I've managed to put my past experiences behind me... (read my very first post ) and try my hand at driving again.... all thanks to Snea. And, the best part being... I haven't caused any permanent damage to her bike or completely killed her as yet. Yipeeeee!!! I can't but feel proud of myself in situations like this. I think I' ll stop here before I jinx it. I'll write about it only when I cease to be a potential health hazard to all human and animal life forms.
On another dismal note, three friends of mine have all come to me with news. Apparently, all of them have been struck by Cupid. Worse, they sound disgustingly smug. Love notes, e-mails, phone calls, dates, gifts, engagements....???!! I think I'm gonna die listening to all of it. The guys that I thought were so beyond all this crap are now flag bearers of mushhood. Such losers! I hope all of them are in love with the same girl and then kill each other over her. And that's what I'd call poetic justice.
And now, I'm being co-erced into giving a lecture in a national seminar on topics like India's role in SAARC and ASEAN and India's relationship with the US and the EU and a debate on the same. (I know... what the hell!!! rt) I think I know more about the secret sexual desires of single men than International Relations and Indian Politics. To add to it all, there might be a possible involvement of mine in the organization of yet another fete.
If I can get out all this, maybe.. just maybe I' ll begin to believe that there is a God somewhere! Hey... everyone has a right to wishful thinking!
Saturday, October 14
The American Desi : Laid to Rest
Ok. Time for a check. Haven't had a decent night's sleep for about a week now. Food seems to taste like chalk. Exams from tomorrow and as usual I know nil. And, again... I don't give a damn.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
"Today is simply not about me." Thats exactly how I started the post I wrote, three months ago about my uncle, titled The American desi and ended it saying
"Its imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24/7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that. "
Family. He has a pretty large family : four sisters, two brothers and nine nieces & nephews. For once in his life, he sent a plea asking for help. Not one of them answered in return. You see, the grown ups had important things to do; like look after their houses, their grown up kids, spouses and servants while the kids had academics to take care of. So, he died alone...waiting. And, he was buried there with a proper funeral attended by everybody from all over. Everybody except his family. His family was doing something more important. They were taking care of their lives.
As for me, I could never have thought, I was capable of hurting so much for someone so distant. But I do. I feel like sobbing my heart out every time I think of everything that he must have felt in his last days. Hell, ask me about loneliness and the need to belong. I keep imagining all his pain over and over, almost as a punishment for not being able to do anything for him. I wish, I could have talked to him just once and tell him something I've never let acknowledge to anyone, not even myself. I wish I could tell him that for as long as I remember... HE was my hero.
Friday, June 9
The American Desi
A whole lot of things have happened since I ve last done this... some good, some not-so-good and some horrific.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
Yet again, I had started to pen down my tales of woe; a relationship gone sour, an identity crisis rapidly progressing into depression and a vacation which turned into a series of unfortunate events. As much as I squander time brooding over these sob stories, somewhere deep down I know I can answer my own questions. The relationship had to end. The identity crisis, an issue that can be resolved only with time. The burnt vacation was because of the disappointment that comes with great expectations. So, all in all, nothing to get worked up about. As obvious as this may seem to anyone else, sometimes it takes an event to help understand it. For once, all the things that are wrongly happening in my life don't seem so heart breaking anymore.
Today is simply NOT about me. I have an uncle (my mum's bro) in the States, since a time when no one had even heard of the place. All my childhood, I remembered him as the uncle whom I got to meet every five years or so and who never failed to get us chocolates and other goodies. But that was the extent of our relationship. I knew zilch about him as a person and the ignorance was mutual, not that I was complaining back then. Much later, I came to know that he was a divorcee with no kids and a leading radiologist in a reputed hospital back in the
"US of A."
During his last visit, about 8-9 years ago, it was the same rhetoric played over again and as his plane took off, I put him out of my mind and didn't give him another thought- till now.
Recently, I came to know that he had been found strewn unconscious across the floor in his apartment. His neighbor rushed him to the hospital, whereupon he was immediately operated but with limited results. He had suffered serious injuries to the brain and was perilously close to becoming a 'vegetable'.
That was over two months ago. But, his condition hasn't progressed all that much. It’s imperative that his physiotherapy be carefully supervised by someone who will take care of him 24x7 until he gets back on his feet. Someone, to whom he means more than just a patient, someone he can recognize and relate to. Simply, someone who is FAMILY. Over thirty years of a gifted career, a fabulous lifestyle, unadulterated freedom in a mighty country and all it comes down to, at the end of the day, is that.
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