Those two...

After a long time, I've felt strongly about something to write about it.

For every 10 people in the world who like you, there are two who dont.
Maybe for something you did to them, and maybe for no apparent reason. It's easier to accept these two people, if they have a reason to dislike you. But when someone dislikes you for no apparent reason, for no fault of your's it hurts.
Very badly.
And the worst part is that because of those two, you forget the rest 10. And thats not fair to them. But then, neither are those two fair to you, so in a way, it kind of gets adjusted. (Yes, in a very weird and twisted way, I agree)

This blog is for those 10 people in the world who like me for who i am, what i am, how i am.
Thank- you. You dont know how comforting it is, to think: forget those two, i have 10 other's who like me.

And to those two people, who don't like me for whatever their reasons, all i want to say is that remember, there are two others out there, somewhere in the world who don't like you.

Until next tiime...

Murphy’s Law

Here is another attempt at a something funny.
Do tell me if it even remotely achieves the goal!

************************************************************************************************

Murphy’s Law.
It was all because of Murphy’s Law.

“If anything can go wrong, then it will go wrong.”

It started off only as a bad day. I woke up to the sound of rain hitting hard on my windowpanes. Looking at the time I realized that I had switched off my alarm long time ago and had overslept. In three simple words, no make those four simple words – Shit! I was late.
Okey-Dokey. Still manageable, I thought, being the over optimistic soul that I am. But someone else (yep you got that right -- Mr. Murphy it was) had other plans for me.

In my house everything moves like clockwork, including the clocks. Especially in the mornings. Everyone has his or her slots for the bathroom, the temple (it’s a small one and can only accommodate one person comfortably at a time. Two people in that room means that one of them is standing on the other’s toe, if he or she is lucky; or some other body part if he or she is unlucky) and the kitchen (Mom says that she likes to cook alone in peace, and well so do the rest of us). Everyone has a standard routine. Wake up, clean up, make tea/coffee/juice/beverage of your choice (no… Mom does not allow sodas or hard drinks in the morning. As a matter of fact she does not allow hard drinks at any point of the day. Or night.), butter your toast, have breakfast, and get out. Don’t come in anyone else’s way and you will be assured of a peaceful and uneventful morning. Come in somebody’s way, and boy have you had it or what!

Naturally, since I was late, I missed all my slots, which resulted in banging on the bathroom door to tell Dad that could he please not read the paper today (he grumbled something and came out only precisely 1 minute earlier than his usual time), squeezing in with Mom in the temple and getting a first class glare out of her that could scare a hungry lion off it’s freshly killed prey and finally making coffee with Minnie (my younger sister) who claimed that I was too fat and was taking up most of the space in the kitchen, and that she does not like the smell of coffee and “ that is so not how you make coffee! Here let me show you how it is done…” and blah and blah and blah and blah (she was still talking when I ran out of the kitchen, and God alone knows to whom!).

After successfully upsetting my entire family without actually doing anything, I ran in the rain to the bus stop struggling to keep my umbrella in an umbrella-like shape which was getting deformed because of the strong wind (more like a windstorm), only to have the bus that I was supposed to be in, splash muck on me and speed away like it’s tail was on fire.

So there I was, in the middle of a thunderstorm, late, wet, covered in muck and with a un-umbrella shaped umbrella, which was of no use frankly. What more could go wrong?

Oh lots more – trust me, lots more.

I took a cab to the station and ended up with a burning hole in my wallet. It was the end of the month and I really couldn’t afford luxuries like cabs and all. Especially ones that cost twice the average cost because of the traffic caused by the heavy incessant rain. The trains were running late and while waiting for it to come, three things were going on in my head.

1. I am very late.
2. Exactly how many things does the rain affect? Busses, roads, trains, traffic, people… the list is endless, and
3. I hope this Murphy fellow is dead; otherwise I’ll kill him with my bare hands.

The train came rumbling along, with people hanging outside the compartment, like there was a prize or something for the person who managed to hang using the least space, and yet managed to be as further away from the actual door as possible. In no mood to take part in such a competition (if there was such a competition in the first place), I fought and struggled and got into the ladies compartment of the train. This involved a lot of pushing, even more of being pushed, and lots and lots of screaming. Women, I tell you. They can scream for no rhyme or reason. Somewhere in this commotion, I registered the sound of cloth tearing. Funny, that in so much commotion I still heard that sound so distinctly, as if it was something very close to me that tore. After having mentally congratulating myself for having such sharp ears, I turned around to look for the poor victim so that I could inform her that her shirt/trouser/kurti/any other piece of clothing had torn, flash a sympathetic smile and in general behave like a super-savior. Imagine my horror when I turned back and saw that it was my duppatta that was stuck in a nail that was sticking out in all it’s glory. No wonder it sounded like it was close to me: I was wearing it. Some other lady took off the remaining part of my duppatta from the nail, handed it to me, flashed me a sympathetic smile and, generally behaved like a super-savior. What was it with people and super- savior behavior anyways? It wasn’t like she saved me or my duppatta or something. Weirdo.

So, now I was in the middle of an extremely overcrowded train, which was bursting at its seams, very late, wet, covered in muck, with a un-umbrella shaped umbrella, which I really didn’t know what to do with and a torn duppatta. What a sight I must have made!

Someone tapped my shoulder… “Hey…are you from VTS?”
“Of course you are! I remember you now… but I forgot your name… ”

The source of this monologue was, I discovered to my absolute horror, a girl from my school (VTS = Villa Theresa Convent School) who used to look just like Barbie Doll personified. In fact she still did. Her name was Mellissa, and she was a year senior to me. I really hated her in school, because she was this ultra-pretty, dainty little thing overflowing with artificial sweetness. In fact I don’t think anyone liked her. You know how some people are, just being artificially sweet for the record, asking about your problems only to feel better about their life? Mellissa was their leader. After you spoke with Mellissa and her people even for two minutes and answered the questions asked to you about your breakup-with-boyfriend/fight-at-home/sickness/any-other-sad-event you would generally like to forget, you would be left with a feeling of acute depression and shame. No one yet has discovered a reason for this yet, but it happens.

She was silent because she was looking at me from top to bottom in a way one looks at a piece of chocolate cake which has been in the fridge for god-knows-how-long and has a some sort of fluffy green thing growing on it.
“Have you put on weight? Now, don’t neglect your health like this sweetie…”
“You used to be so cute and chubby in school… I’m sure if you put in some hard work you’ll be able to look like that in no time!”
She came close to me then, wrinkled up her delicate little nose a bit, and whispered loud enough for the entire compartment to hear…
“Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but some of your mud-pack is still in your hair…”
About 50 pairs of eyes belonging to women within the age group of 16 to 66 shot immediately towards my hair.
“Speaking of hair… hasn’t yours thinned out a lot?” she said her normal voice, still loud enough for the entire compartment to hear.
50 pairs of eyes belonging to women within the age group of 16 to 66 stayed glued to my hair, analyzing whether it was thin or not.
“Oh well…my station is here… got to go now… you take care of yourself ok?” she said with her eyes huge and innocent. “And the next time I see you, I want to see slightly less of you ok!” She giggled at her own stupid joke and thankfully got off the train.
I unclenched my jaw, slowly opened my fists that had very tightly shut on their own and took a deep breath. All of those 50 pairs of eyes had apparently found some other thing to stare at, and I sincerely thanked God for that.

I analyzed my situation. I was in the middle of a not-so-crowded train, very late, wet, covered in muck (and not mud-pack, contrary to what some Barbie-bitches thought), with a un-umbrella shaped umbrella, which I decided to throw away, thoroughly stared at by 50 pairs of eyes, and super depressed because some hoity-toity Barbie bitch thought I was over-weight. And my day had only just begun.

I reached office, and immediately ran to the loo to make myself a little presentable. After removing the muck from my hair and pinning my duppatta so that it didn’t look torn anymore I returned to my cubicle and dived headfirst into work. There is nothing better than work to get your mind off irritating things. After all, nothing beats work on the irritation scale!

Thankfully the rest of the day in office passed peacefully. I have a feeling it was because I refused to talk to or even look at anybody in office, and just sat on my chair, completely involved in my work. And even though most of the results I was trying to achieve were just dancing away to somewhere else where I was not, I refused to take bait and let Mr. Murphy have another laugh at my expense.

On my way back home, I contemplated on what had happened to me that day. It was a clear-cut case of Murphy’s Law. And I realized that if Mr. Murphy up there wants it like that, then that is how it is going to be! I looked up at the sky, having this sudden feeling that he was looking at me and smiling, thinking “ I got you today, didn’t I?” I felt that the two stars twinkling in the far corner were his eyes, twinkling with merriment. And while I was looking up at the sky and trying to understand this weird feeling, and walk at the same time, I walked right into this big puddle of ankle deep muck and rainwater. After walking out of it and realizing that the new sandals that I was wearing, (yes the same ones that cost me the sky, which I found after three Saturdays of non-stop shoe hunting, the ones that were so comfortable it felt like I was wearing nothing,) were completely ruined and now looked like some beggar’s sandals. I stopped, afraid of walking into god knows what next and looked up at the sky again. Those two starts were twinkling and shining even more brightly than they were when I walked into the muck while looking at them. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe it wasn’t. But I smiled for the first time in the day anyways.

************************************************************************************************

until next time...

Funny Unix

Endless hours of working on UNIX and this is what i learnt....
Try it someday when you are really bored/frustrated in office and you need a good laugh.
Its a list of commands and actual answers that the UNIX server gives in response to them.
Apparently we aren't the only smart ones on the planet!!

$ cat "food in cans"
cat: can't open food in cans

$ nice man woman
No manual entry for woman.

$ rm God
rm: God nonexistent

$ ar t God>>
ar: God does not exist

$ ar r God>>
ar: creating God

$ make love
Make: Don't know how to make love. Stop

$ sleep with me
bad character

$ got a light?
No match.

$ man: why did you get a divorce?
man:: Too many arguments.

$ !:say, what is saccharine?
Bad substitute.

$ drink bottle: cannot open>
opener: not found

:-D

until next time....

What is life?

What if life?
My answer would be:
Life is a weird and wonderful concoction.
Of runaway cats.
Of rain.
Of sunshine.
Of sorrow.
Of joy.
Of lost friends.
Of new more-than-a-friend friends.
Of butter chocolate cookies with dark chocolate chips.
Of unfulfilled promises.
Of uncertainties.
Of expectations.
Of icky feet in mucky rain.
Of too much work in office.
Of new phone numbers.
Of early busses.
Of late trains.
Of bland canteen food.
Of restrictions.
Of lies.
Of guilt.
Of space in relations.
Of hurt.
Of pain.
Of numbness.
Of commitments.
Of responsibilities.
Of irresponsibility.
Of challenges.
Of goals.
Of questions.
Of directions.
Of confusions.
Of fights.
Of practical decisions.
Of impractical dreams.
Of tears.
Of smiles.
Of laughter.
Of cries.

Of everything that makes it what it is: weird and wonderful.

Until next time…

April Fool.

It started in ancient Rome by accident. The king passed a new decree that henceforth the year would begin from 1st January, and not on 1st April as the prevalent custom was. Since his was a large kingdom, and the telephone had not been invented yet, it took time for the whole kingdom to get to know of this change. This resulted in half the people celebrating New Year’s Day on 1st January, and the other half on 1st April. As it is human nature to make fun of other’s mistakes, the ones who celebrated on the right day ridiculed the other half, and called them April Fools. And since then year after year, the practice continues worldwide, making it a tradition of sorts that every year on 1st April, someone has to become an April Fool. Since people don’t become fools by them selves, the others - who are working with the sole purpose of keeping old traditions alive of course - go out and make a few April Fools every year.

This year, I was one of them. No, not the one concerned about dying traditions. I am usually one of those every year. But this year I became a target of someone who was highly concerned about the dying traditions. I am not dumb. I know I can draw up a list of people who can argue otherwise but trust me: I am not dumb. I am just a naïve, innocent, sentimental fool. And of course, this coupled with the fact that he did all this a good 15 days before April Fool’s Day, justifies the entire deal of me falling for it. I mean, come on. You don’t expect someone to make an April Fool out of you on the 15th of March, now do you? I don’t.

But I should have seen it coming. The person, who it came from, coupled with the atrociousness of his story: I should have seen it coming. I did not believe him for sometime initially, but he was convincing. Very convincing. All I can say now is that is was a good one. And that I fell for it.

But Rajeev, now that you are not going back home to Jamshedpur, and are obviously here in Mumbai, you’d better watch out dude. Because revenge is something I highly believe in. And we can’t let the traditions die just like that…hai na?

Happy April Fool’s Day!
(In advance)

Until next time…

Haan chal tata...

Rajeev called me yesterday from Jamshedpur, his home, where he had gone to celebrate holi.
“Achcha sun… hum vapas nahin aa rahen hai... Tumhari mumbai nahin pasand ayi humein… ghar pe aaram se rahenge…”
For a good amount of time, I couldn’t believe him. I mean Rajeev being Rajeev; you can’t afford to believe everything he says the first time. He just loves to kid around. Then, when he finally managed to convince me, I was actually speechless. And me being speechless is a big thing, for I always have something to say, whatever the situation. What hit me the most, was not that I’d not be seeing Rajeev for a long long time, maybe never, but that this is life.
Uncertain.
Sudden.
Unpredictable.
You are going about your normal routine, believing that everything is going to happen the way it’s supposed to, and suddenly in one instant everything changes. One phone call, one e-mail, one sms, one anything is enough to change everything. And you can’t do anything about it. You are just informed of the change, and you have to adjust your entire life according to it. Here I was, expecting him back in a week, thinking that once he’s back we’d meet up and chill for we hadn’t done that in a long time, and suddenly, he calls and says he’s not coming back.
Ever.
Agreed that even though we were in the same city, we hardly met up and all, and were in touch via phone only. But now that I know he’s not here, and not coming back, it feels like somehow something is amiss. What, I don’t know.
I know I’m sounding highly senti and all, and that we will keep in touch via email or phone, but I still can’t adjust to the fact that I’m mostly never ever going to get to see him again.
He taught me lot of things, some deeply philosophical, and most highly stupid. The maximum I picked up from him was his way of speaking. Highly Bihari, is how he refers to it.
“Arre load nahin hai…” in Bombay language means ‘just chill!’
“Sahi hai…” means ‘you are talking utter rubbish!’
“Highly…” is used to stress on whatever follows it. You know, like damn cold or damn funny…he would say highly cold or highly funny.
“Hum bolne se authoritative sound karta hai…” he would say when I would tell him that hum refers to more than one person.
“Angrezi mein na bolo bhai… identity crisis ho jati hai!” when I would start blabbering in English, which he knows very well but for some odd reason does not like to use.
There were many more such fundaas of his that I will never forget.
“Apne aap ka bohat high opinion hai humara…kisi aur ko ho na ho… samjhe?”
And “Bah! Kardi na choti baat…” is my absolute favorite.

Rajeev, you may not miss Mumbai, but Mumbai will definitely miss you. You are one of my favorite brothers, from all those that I have made.

“Haan chal tata…phone-vone kardena galti se kabhi…”

untill next time…

Bozo

I've tried my hand at humour again. A short story, that took a long time to complete.

***********************************************************************************

Bozo

I ran from the station to my office, which was like a good 10 minutes away. Shit! I was late. Again. Even though it was still February, the summers were already here. Sweat poured down my back making me even more irritated. Bozo had indicated just yesterday that I was making a habit of coming late. Shit shit shit! When I entered the office building, a blast of the cool A.C. air hit me, making me feel slightly better. I hurried to my cubicle, praying feverishly that Bozo wasn’t on his seat.

For those of you who haven’t figured it out yet – I call my boss Bozo. Why? Have patience, you’ll find out soon.

Phew! He wasn’t on his seat. His bag was also not to be seen anywhere, which meant that he hadn’t come in yet. I quickly booted my machine, opened a lot of screens, and made it look like I was busy working for a long time. After gulping the usual cup of the brownish liquid that the canteen boy insisted on calling coffee, I actually set to work. I had a lot of work piled up, and not because I wasn’t working – trust me I was working my butt off – it was because Bozo expected me to work at superhuman speed, and hence gave me a lot of work. He himself didn’t do anything, and somehow that didn’t seem to bother him. He never worked because honestly, he didn’t know how to do anything. For the smallest of things he would require my help. The only thing he knew how to do, and very well that too, was to say “Oh my God!” Whatever the situation, he would always say that.

“Good morning! Oh my God… you’re working huh? Good… “ I looked up to find him flustered and sweating and panting.
Excuse me! What do you know about working? Have you ever worked in your entire life? Idiot…
“Good morning sir…” I forced a smile and said.
Bloody fool.
I got back to work, and soon was completely engrossed in this really interesting issue that needed to be resolved urgently – everything in this office by the way needs to be resolved urgently- when Bozo called out to me.
“Hey you…”
I have a name u oaf.
“Yes sir?” I said.
“Now look… I have two different files in two different windows in notepad. How do I merge the them and make a third file”?
I wish I could make two of you and throw each of you on two different planets.
“Ummm… you er... copy each of them and paste them in a new file…” I said.
“Ah… Yes…” He said, dismissing me and getting back to whatever he was doing.
Grrrrrr…
“You’re welcome…” I mumbled to myself and got back to work.

The day passed by slowly but steadily. He hadn’t bothered me after that atrocious question, and trust me I wasn’t complaining. Somewhere in the afternoon, I heard a weird sound. It sounded like a cat stuck somewhere. I ignored it once, but then I heard it again. This time it sounded more like a dog stuck somewhere. I got up to investigate, looking everywhere: under my cubicle, above my cubicle, outside the window, but I couldn’t find the source of the sound. The sound, by then had intensified in volume, and maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to have intensified in urgency also. All sorts of thoughts ran through my head, where I imagined a poor cat/dog/helpless-animal stuck is a small rut somewhere. I would rescue it lovingly, and well I’d see then what to do of it. I was jolted out of my reverie by another instance of the weird sound. This time it sounded more like a lion was stuck somewhere.

I’m coming sweetie… hold on!

I moved in the direction of Bozo’s desk as the last time I heard the sound, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere there. Maybe Bozo had kidnapped some cat/dog/helpless-animal. It would be even more fun to embarrass Bozo, not that he got embarrassed anyways. I was looking under his desk to see if the cat/dog/helpless-animal was there when I heard it again.
That’s weird, I thought. It’s coming from above the desk.

“Excuse me sir…” I started speaking and stopped. Bozo was fast asleep. He must have been reading some document on the computer, and dozed off. My dreams of rescuing the cat/dog/helpless-animal went flying out of the window. His lips contorted, and phhhrrrrrhhhhh! he snored again. Out of all sounds in the world, it was the sound of Bozo snoring. Snoring! But I wasn’t all that off the mark. Agreed he wasn’t helpless but he surely resembled an animal. And a really dumb animal that too! I looked at him closely, taking in his chubby cheeks, receding hairline and snoring lips and almost burst out laughing. Small beads of sweat covered his upper lip, and there was a speck of food at the corner of his mouth. Yuck!

I looked around. There were not many people in office. It was just after lunch, and most people had not returned. Now is the time to get my revenge from him, I thought. Revenge for all the stupid questions he asked, for all the impossible deadlines he set, for just being Bozo. After racking my brains I quickly formed a plan of action. I filled a glass up to the brim with chilled water from the cooler, and placed it next to his hand on which his head was resting. Then, I spilled some more water around his chair. After removing the paperweight, which was kept on a bunch of papers on the desk, I went and sat in my place. Satisfied that everything was in place, I looked around one last time, and then shouted with all my might-
“Bozo!!!”

Bozo awoke with a start, causing his hand to hit the glass of water that I had kept there. The glass fell on the table making the water spill on the desk and on him. He yelped as the cold water fell on him, and immediately got up from his chair trying to move away from the desk. The moment he stepped away, he slipped on the water that was on the floor, landing with a thud on his rather big butts. I leaned over and switched on the fan, which made all the papers fly about everywhere. He got up hurriedly and tried to gather the wet papers before they flew away.

“What the hell just happened here?” he asked, coming over to my cubicle.
I removed the earphones from my ears and said, “Pardon me?”
“I said what happened? What was that loud noise?”
“There was a noise?” I asked feigning innocence, “I must have not heard it because of the earphones…”
He grunted and walked away.

The next day, the entire office was abuzz with a certain kind of excitement. There was a crowd near the notice board. Bozo walked towards it, presumably wondering what the fuss was about. He went till the notice board, and looked there to find an A-4 size picture of his very big and wet backside, bending over to pick up the wet papers. A caption below the picture read – “Office Stress - OH MY GOD!” His face was not visible in the picture, and that’s what the entire fuss was about. The entire office was wondering who this fool was!

I sat at my desk, smiling to myself as I saw the look on Bozo’s face as he walked back to his desk. He had obviously recognized the photograph, and for once was clearly embarrassed. When he had bend down to pick up a bunch of papers, I had clicked the snap with the camera in my latest state-of-the-art cell phone. I heard his “Oh my God…Oh my God… Oh my God!” and so I asked him,
“What happened sir? What’s the fuss about?”
“Oh nothing… er... some stupid fool got caught on camera with his pants wet! Nobody knows who it is… Oh my God! It’s unbelievable…" His face was a clear picture of embarrassment."Who could have... well lets get back to work… we shouldn’t waste our time on such silly things!”

I smiled, satisfied that I had at least embarrassed him a bit, when he called out to me again.
“Hey you…the thing is that I don’t understand how this is done… if you could come here and do it…”
Oh my God! Help!!
“Yes sir…”

**********************************************************************************

Hope that got a few chuckles out of you!

untill next time...

Decisions.

Life.

What you become in life...
Depends on what you choose....
Whether you face every challenge...
Or simply refuse.

It's a strange thing, this life. It offers you so many choices at one point of time, and at another takes all matters out of your hand and leaves you reeling in the aftershocks. At every point in life, or rather at every milestone like after your 10th grade exams, after your higher secondary exams, after your graduation, you are left wondering which one of the zillion options available is best suited for you. How are you supposed to know, I don't know; but you're supposed to know. Never mind that you don't know one option from another, and to you all have equal probabilities of success or failure. Never mind that you've never had experience with anyone of them. Never mind at all.

The only thing that you can do in this kind of situation is think till you have exhausted your brains out, discuss with your family and friends till they are ready to either pull your hair out or theirs (preferably yours, because after all there is a limit to everything), and then out of frustration and confusion choose the option that looks the least intimidating. At least for now. And yes... don't forget to pray that you don't live to regret this decision that has been taken so painfully, to say the least.

Or you could just not think so much, and life take it's course, which it will do anyways. Let it happen, whatever it is. Because it will happen, no matter what you do or how hard you try for it not to happen. Somethings are just meant ot hapen. And they do.

And then just like that, when everything is going smoothly, when you are settling in with the decision you have taken, life throws a lurch at you. Whether you are prepared to catch it or no: not considered. Whether you are prepared for the consequences it begets: not considered. You just have to accept the reality and move on. How ironical. When you didn't want choices you got them. And not one or two. No ways. Why make your job easier? You got a zillion choices. And now when you willingly want a choice, a chance to change, if not avoid the circumstances, you don't get it. Strange isn't it?
But then, that my friend is what they call life. And as the first few lines mention, it's all about rising to the occasion. It's all about making a decision when you get an opportunity and accepting a decision that has been made for you. It's about facing each and every challenge that is given to you with equal vigor and gusto and zeal that is required to conquer it. And when you understand this... you will understand the meaning of the most complicated word in the English dictionary-
LIFE.

untill next time...

A generation awakens...

A gneration awakens... or... does it?

"thodi si dhool meri...
dharti ki mere vatan ki...
thodi si dhool meri...
dharti ki mere vatan ki...
thodi si khushboo baaraan ii si mast pavan ki...
thodi si dhonk ni wali dhak dhak dhak dhak dhak dhak saansen...
jin mein ho junoon junnon vo boondein lal lahoo ki!
hoo oo oo .....
ye sab tu mila mila le...
phir rang tu khila khila le...
ye sab tu mila mila le...
phir rang tu khila khila le!
aur mohe tu rang de basanti yara...
mohe tu rang de basanti!"

I saw this movie the other day, and on the way back home in the bus i couldn't help thinking.
what has happened to this country?
what will happen to this country?
it's an overpopulated country where the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. it's a country where corruption is actually a defined method to get your work done. it's a country where uneducated ministers rule the roost.
Someone famous once said " ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country"
what can i do for this country?
what can i do for a country where the entire system from root to tip is at fault.
what can i do for a country where children are born on a street, they live their entire life on the street, and die there.
what can i do for a country where power is the most abused commodity.
what can i do for a country where "inqalab zindabad" has been replaced by "chalta hai-adjust kar lo " on every tounge.
really... what can i do?
is this what those zillion freedom fighters fought for, gave up their lives for?
somehow, i don't think so.
there was nothing in that movie that doesn't happen in this country. innocent people always pay the price, irrespective of whether they committed the crime or no. power is everything here. everything.

i was jolted out of my thoughts when the bus came to screeching halt, hopefully somewhere near the bus stop. i looked around and saw onovercrowded bus, filled with people who had lost all love for their motherland. someone got up to get off the bus, and thus emptied a seat. two people noticed the empty seat simultaniously. one: an old uncle with a receeding grey hairline, who had just boarded the bus and two: a young college going lad who had been standing for a very long time. the lad made a dash for the seat and put his hand across so that no one else could claim the seat. the old uncle gave up all hope and i looked away digustedly, preparing to get up and offer the uncle my seat. just then, the lad turned around smiled and said " uncle please sit..." the uncle who was as surprised as i was, patted the lad on his shoulder, smiled and said "god bless you my child"
so he wasn't running towards the seat to get it for himself. he was saving it for the uncle. he didn't put his hand across to claim a seat for himself. he put his hand across so that no one else could claim the seat till the uncle could sit.

maybe this generation doesn't need awakening...
maybe this generation is not sleeping at all...
maybe all it needs is a gentle nudge in the right direction...
maybe there is hope after all.

"sapne rang de...
apne rang de...
khushiyan rang de...
gum bhi rang de...
naslein rang de...
faslein rang de...
rang de dhadkan..
rang de sargam...
rang de surat...
rang de darpan...
mohe mohe tu rang de basanti yara...
mohe tu rang de basanti!

untill next time...

Circumstances

Sadoo commented on "Worth living" by saying... "but ma'am u ought to see that not only ur family or friends make life worth...its the circumstances..."
i think what he means is that the circumstances that we face in daily life shape us to be what we are. agreed sadoo, but doesn't family or friends or any kind of support just instantly make the situation infinitely better?
i think it does.
circumstances show us what all we should be prepared to handle in life.
family and friends show us how we can handle them.
circumstances do harden us, and while trying to wriggle out of them, we do soften up.
but the fact remains that if you have someone to hold your hand and help you wriggle out, or push you from behind with all their strenght and a bit more, you yourself feel like wriggling harder. you feel like fighting harder. if not for yourself, then for that person...you feel like winning againt the situation. that person can be your mom, dad, sister, best friend, good friend, friend..sometimes it can even be somebody who you never ever thought (even in your wildest dreams) would stand by you. and it's a wonderful feeling just to know that someone somewhere is there.
for you.
by you.
with you.
so let the circumstance harden you. but also let the family or the friend support you. it's not so bad to be dependant on someone. for sometime you can let the other person take care of your problems. for sometime you can take a break. then after sometime, you can get up and start wriggling again.
and yeah... don't let go of friends so easily... trust me they are the hardest things to replace in life.

untill next time...

Tum...

I don't do hindi...but somehow i did this one, and by god..it's good!
i wish that one day i find someone who dedicates this to me and means each and every line of it from the bottom of his heart.
and yeah devvya...someone someday will dedicate this to you too...
when you least expect it, you will fall in love... i promise you that.

Tum

dil ki ek aarzoo ho tum,
dil ki ek justajoo ho tum.
khwaab ho yaan koi haqikat ho,
jo bhi ho meri zindagi ho tum.

andheri raat ki chandni ho tum,
subah ki pehli kiran ho tum.
pari ho yaan koi hoor ho,
jo bhi ho bohat khoobsurat ho tum.

behte huae jharne ka paani ho tum,
thandi hawa ka jhonka ho tum.
paas ho yaan koi hazaron meel door ho,
jo bhi ho hamesha dil ke kareeb ho tum.

gulab ke phool ki khushboo ho tum,
resham ke roomal ka ehsaas ho tum.
din ke ujale mein ho yaan koi andheri raat mein ho,
jo bhi meri har saans mein ho tum.

mor ke pankh ki narmi ho tum,
kashmir ke sooraj ki garmi ho tum.
chulbuli ho yaan kabhi gumsum ho,
jo bhi ho, ek paheli ho tum.



it's beautiful na! i know it is...
now all i have to do is find him!
:-D

untill next time...

Worth living.

For my last blog entry i got an anonymous comment that said that all those questions i had asked made life worth living, and that i should stop cribbing. well, whoever you are, this one's for you. Things that make life worth living: when you are tired and highly frustrated and the sweetest kid you've ever seen smiles at you in the train making you involuntarily smile back and feel (atleast for that moment) that everything is ok...that makes life worth living. when your mom makes hot and yummy gajar ka halwa for you because you're not having such a good day... that makes life worth living. when your dad gives you a good-morning bear-hug everyday without fail...that makes life worth living. when you can fight with your sister, tell her that you're never going to speak with her ever again in your life, and yet be laughing with her at the silliest joke after 5 minutes...that makes life worth living. when you can kick your sister in the middle of the night just because you want to...that makes life worth living. when the cutie you've been eyeing for a long time smiles at you...that makes life worth living. when you're down and upset and crying your heart out and your friend over the phone from another city who doesn't have balance in his cell says "please please dont cry... everything will be ok.." ...that makes life worth living. when you sit and chat about the stupidest(i know thats not a word but i sounds good) of things with your best friend and giggle about nothing in particular and still know that she doesn't think you're wacko...that makes life worth living. when 2 friends fight and you help them patch up...that makes life worth living. when you're in a mess and you think you're going to fall, but your friends stand behind you like solid pillars of strenght, refusing to let you fall...that makes life worth living. when your family loves you unconditionally for what and who you are...that makes life worth living. it's things like this that make life worth living. atleast mine. those questions are just that: questions. they popped in my head so i asked them. and yeah dude..it's my blog and i'm going to crib or do what i damn well want to. and you cant do anything about it! :-p "dont presume to tell me what i can or cant do...you dont even know me!" -- kate winslet in titanic. :-D untill next time...

Why?

why...?
Why does something someone say affect us so much?
why is it easier to cry than to smile?
why does someone's smile make our day?
why do people die?
why do friends fight?
why do we not get what we want?
why do we not get atleast what we deserve?
why do people judge us, and always draw wrong conclusions?
why is life so complicated?
why is it so that when we like someone, they dont like us back?
why is it so that when we don't like someone, they like us back?
why are things not what they appear to be?
why do people judge us by the people we move around with?
why cant people mind their own business?
why do we realise the value of something only after we have lost it?
why do we always loose only those things that we cherish the most?
why is trust the most easily breakable thing on this planet?
why are life altering decisions irrerversible?
why do we miss those people who really dont care a damn where we are?
why are there so many questions in my head?
why does no one have answers for these questions?
why...?

untill next time...

Traditions

Living in a metro city for most of my life, i haven't seen a lot of traditional traditions.
you know... the cutely senti ones that happen in almost every house in north india.
they happen in my dadu's house..
they happen in my nana's house..
and its only in these places, or well, in movies, that i get to be a part of them.
it's not that we don't like to be traditional.
its just that we dont have the time to be traditional.
this i think is one of the major drawbacks of a nuclear family.
the children loose out on their traditions, on their culture, on something that is their basic right.

we went to a rajasthani mela today, the full family,(which is pretty much just the four of us...)
there was this dance being performed there..very typically rajasthani..forgot the name (shame on me) in which a woman was balancing about 8 matka's on her head and dancing on a plate, and later on swords. i was obviously highly fascinated. and even more so, when mom told me that she too did this when she was young and in college etc!
imagine..and i didnt even know such type of an art existed. i got enthu and all and asked the name of the dance and some general trivia which mom and dad very happily supplied, only to come home and sit in front of the comp and realise that i've forgotten everything said to me. even the name of the dance.
shame on me.
and i say i'm from rajasthan.
double shame on me.

but u know... it's not my fault. out of the very litttle and precious time that i get to communicate with my family, which implies that all of us are at home together, which is a very rare thing, we have other more important things to discuss.
like when are we all free again.
like which movie should we go for when we all are free.
like where should we dinner after that.
like why i need more money.
like why karela is good for loosing wieght.
like why i shouldn't get my hair colored red.
like why i should get my hair colored red.
like... like.. like...

i dont know why, but i feel like saying to myself: "shame on me."

untill next time...

Time and again.

"Time heals everything".
or so they claim. but they forget one very important thing : your past always catches up with you.you face a given situation, when it hapens, because at that time, god knows from where you get this infinite ammount of tolerance power, which lets you accept anything, lets you deal with anything. you face it, fight it, struggle with it, and yet hold your head high no matter what.
and then, time moves on, you move on... you begin to live life normally, getting back to daily routines, getting back to what you used to call life...
suddenly, one day out of the blue, when you've almost completely forgotten that some sort of an inccident ever happened with you, it some how comes back and stares at you.
right in the face.
when you least expected it.
and this time: you're tired.
tired of facing it.
tired of fighting it.
tired of struggling with it.
tired of holding your head high and going on, no matter what.
just plain simple tired.
because that infinite ammout of tolerance power that you had, when all this mess originally began, has conviniently chosen his very second to run out on you.
so what do you do now?
do you give up, and ruin all the hard work you put in to deal with the situation, since it began?
do you break down, finally letting it get to you?
no.
NO.
you pull yourselves up, by the bootstraps, if necessary, and smile. or at least try to. it doesnt matter if you can't make it all the way. what matters is that you tried. and you have to do this time and again.
whenever the ugly monster raises its head and stares at you in the eye, stare right back.
without blinking.
without flinching.
you are tougher than the world thinks you to be. you know this for a fact. now show it to the world.
and always remember...
just because something is difficult, doesn't mean you shouldn't try. it means you should just try harder.

untill next time...

oh what a day!

we went for the tcs annual picnic yesterday to a water park. Shangrila water resort, off nasik-mumbai highway. a corny lookin place with an even cornier name.
it would not be wrong to say that we were skeptical. very very skeptical.
and then,it would be an understatement to say that what we got was exactly opposite to what we expected.
we expected : chaos, crowd, mis management, boredom, irritation etc etc...
we got : pure unadulterated fun!!
all of you people who didnt come for whatever reason missed out on something real nice!!
what began as a bus journey at an unearthly hour (6:30 am) soon became the best day of the year so far!
i wasnt that keen on going into the water but these amazingly gutsy people actually pushed me into the pool!
i got sweet sweet revenge by dunking each one of them in the water. ;-)
from playin with a football in the water to splashing water on each others face, untill the other one couldnt see anything..we did everything possible!
the best part was that some or the other "chot" kept happening with someone or the other.

nishant (was) was standing like his confused self, right where people land when they come down a slide, and he got pushed so badly..my stomach hurt i laughed so much!!!

and we didnt even leave poor shailesh..he didnt have a change of clothes and yet we threw him in the pool! at the end of the day he was a much cleaner shailesh..he doesnt have a bath everyday na....
hehehehheeeee...

played donkey football with naveen, santosh, and viv and most of the time, i was the donkey in the middle!

to cut a long story short, we were very apprehensive about the whole day, and abhi and i had actually decided in the bus that if we get even the itsy bitsy bored we'll leave and go home on our own.
but at the end when they announced that the buses were leaving, we actually didnt want to leave. where time flew, no one realised!

bottom line : things are not what you expect them to be, so give everything a chance!!

and yeah..a peice of sincere advice : the next time you go for a picnic, dont take responsibilty of someone else's football.. its very difficult to actually keep track of it!!

untill next time...

Banking

we had mr bum's boring banking class today. when i was studying engineering,i used to wonder why they teach us all this. today was like deja-vu. we were taught how to fill in a form.
how to fill in a form!!!!
oh for god's sake -- we're not commerce students! we can read a form and fill it by ourselves.
but the best part was -- people actually had doubts! i mean imagine -- doubts in how fill a f***ing form out of all things!!
:-/

what i learnt in mr-bum's-boring-banking-class:
(not surprisingly, none of it has anything even remotely related to banking!)

life has a way of catching you in its mesh in such a way, that after a point, you stop realising what you're doing. everything is such a routine.

for(i=1; i=infinity;i++)
{
get_up;
go_to_office;
get_really_frustrated;
come_back;
sleep;
}

and one day in this routine, you realise that you've left most of your life behind. you dont know whts happening in the world, whats happening in other people's lives..
friends..family..everyone has moved on, and suddenly you dont know much about people you used to know everything about. its then that you must take charge of the situation, take some time out, and get back into peoples lives. get people back in you life.
without people, nice people, life becomes monotonous. boring. un liveable (i dont know if this is a word o no..but u get the point..)
as someone famous once said -- "it's never too late, untill you're dead."

untill next time...

misunderstandings

met up with a friend yesterday, and we were just chillin and catchin up, when she told me about this misunderstanding that happened with her and another good friend of her's.
after hearing her full story, i got thinking about all this.

why do misunderstandings happen? and why do misunderstanding happen usually with people who are close to us and are supposed to be elements of subset which is titled "people who understand me"
why are we so apprehensive to approach someone with whom we have a misunderstanding, and clear it out?

maybe because we expect too much from people. especially from those who supposedly understand us. a small misunderstanding has sparked off cold wars that last lifetimes, and sometimes even generations. and when someone actually cares enough to find out the reason, it turns out to be so trivial and actually so down right stupid, that nothin can be done about it. the best thing to do is go and talk it out. point blank. because no misunderstanding is big enough to loose a good friend over. drop your ego, but keep your self respect. and please for god's sake, dont believe gossip that you hear..gossip is the product of a very very bored mind. and it acts like fuel-in-fire for a misunderstanding.
talk, fight, scream, abuse, beat him up.. do whatever u want to..but get your friend back.
because at the end of the day, its friends that make life liveable. specially the ones that are elements of the subset titled " people who understand me".
for these are the type, who are very hard to find, and absolutely impossible to replace.
scared of getting hurt?
stop expecting. anything. from anybody. that way you'll never get hurt. ever. we decide who gets to hurt us or insult us. so if we dont give someone the power, they cant hurt us. but just because someone hurt you once, doesn't mean that you stop talking to them out of the fear that they will hurt you again. everything in life is a risk.

aur life mein risk nahin liya to kya jiya!

so chick, go take that risk. soon. you never know what life will throw at you tomorrow, and when you might actually need this friend.
your friend might be waiting for you.

untill next time...

God's own country

God's own country - kerela.
that's where i was for about 45 days, towards the end of this last year, and maybe thats why, when i got up today, on the 1st of jan 2006, i missed that place really badly.
i can still close my eyes and feel the chill of the place, the damnpness in the air, the faint smell of coconuts and something else that i've never smelled before...
sometimes, even though i may physically be present in bombay, my mind is still in trivandrum, at ILP, TCS-TVM.
the memory of the day i was leaving, is still fresh in my mind, as if it were only yesterday.
it was the middle of the night, literally, and i think everyone i knew was there to see me off. lots of hugs and last words were exchanged, lots of tears (mine) were controlled, and then i was off.
saying a very sad good bye to the place which i really didnt want to come to in the first place. sayin an even sadder good bye to friends with whom i'd spent each and every day for the last 45 odd days. morning to night.

i fell in love there.
with the place, the people i met, the fun i had..with everyting. and the funniest part is that i never wanted to go there in the first place. i had cribbed so much in the initial 2 weeks there..untill i settled into the routine, and made lots and lots of wonderful friends.
the day, or rather night i left trivandrum, was the last time i saw most of these people. i know, for a fact that i'm never going to see all of them again. some of them maybe, but definately not all...

when i came back to bombay, everyone wanted to know how was trainig?
i used all adjectives posible: fun, amazing fun, too much fun, loved it, good, better than good, the best...
but still i could never ever convey to them exactly what it was, and what it meant to me. as swara said, "babe..i think we left a part of ourselves there..."
feels like i left my heart there...

so as i say good bye to 2005, i also say good bye to ILP...
which was not only the best thing that happened to me in 2005, but maybe one of those best things that happen to people, only once in a life time.

nagme hain, shikve hain...
kisse hain, baatein hain...
baatein bhool jati hai..
yaadein yaad aati hain...

untill next time...