Twelve years and eleven

2009-07-30T23:58:00.000-07:00

Back With a Thud

I am usually given to a healthy trot rather than a lazy traipse on any normal day. People who know me know of this and take rightful precautions – make way in narrow passageways, hiss at me when I start moving in the same direction as them or point a mean finger at me and follow it up with a colorful expletive. One pregnant colleague-friend even advanced her maternity leave by a week to prevent any premature drops.

The few times I have quizzed myself about this, the knowledgeable me has silenced the ignorant me saying that this is a personality trait, something which adds a tint of interest to an otherwise mono-colored personality (I am wheat-ish fair all over, spotted, though not unduly, with a few dark colored birth marks). So it was that, as I made a quick entrance to the office rest room in the morning, with a song on my lips as it were, I pushed open the door with more force than justifiable for the act. Little did I know perched behind the door was the gentleman who keeps the said place sparkling clean and odor-free. It’s not an exaggeration if I said I heard a thud behind the door and so I say it – I heard a thud behind the door. I had hit the poor man’s behind with a force that crossed the boundaries of a friendly pat on the derrière by a mile.

People who know me know well that I am not one to stave off sorry’s and really-did-not-knows at the slightest provocation. So I went ahead with the usual ritual made special by the use of a language largely unknown to me. There were bits of bhaiyya, laga kya?, dard hain kya?, malum nahi tha…in my minute long speech.

While my mental energies were channeled to support my linguistic challenges, I did still notice that the chap whose tail bone I had almost broken was smiling through it all. Before you go giggling and curling on the floor, let me assure you he was not in anyway amused by my language. He was indeed in pain. The thud was as real as any thud I have heard. He was smiling because he knew it was an honest mistake on my part. He was smiling because maybe he thought his social standing required him to do so. He was smiling because I was saab whereas he was I-still-don’t-know-his-name.

Whatever it was, his humility touched me in a way that nothing had in the last few months I have been staying in Mumbai. And I did what any other suave, socially-responsible, warm-hearted person would do in such a situation. I proclaimed the way I felt on twitter. Not many of my friends follow me there so I also wrote a blog post on it.

2007-05-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

Chaos or Ordain?

A while, a minute, a second. A spark, a smile, a wink. All that passeth between two people, two individuals. Love, hate and confusion.

What a world we all live in! Strewn with emotions, materialism, philosophy, art, politics…the list moves on and on into infinity. Into that tunnel whose end no one has even seen. Into that hole which opens not at one end. And still we tread miles walking the journey of life. We smile, we cry, we laugh but carry on we will. What leads us through this journey? Is it the hope of seeing light in the end? Or is it plain helplessness?

Why should one go through experiences that would distort the meanings of the words he knew from childhood? What is so important about character building that one should put in so much to gain it? Whose world is this? Who owns me? As I see my arms lift in a wave of goodbye to my loved one, I wonder who it is who pulled the string for me to do so?

2007-01-27T01:21:00.000-08:00

Two Heroes and One More

It was at one of the inaugural functions of a this-or-a-that where it all began. Goenka was a veteran by then and Ambani, the chairperson (CEO’s did not exist then) of 20^th Century India Private Ltd. It was one of the few times when money entered before the pen and did some nasty talking. “He is after all a pen-pusher.” And that sparked off all the rivalry between the two. While one made for the headlines for all the twisted routes he employed, the other showed how a pen can bring the heart of the other to come under the knife. Offices were burned, and bigger headlines made. Attention crazy politicos made some money and won a few votes. It was fought bitterly and shook the press. However this fight made two heroes. One – Ambani (there is nothing called negative publicity) and Capitalism. The law twister became the hero. Amitabh Bachan and other big stars of that age started acting the role of the villain. And Goenka? Well he was anyways a hero. And he shall remain so.

2006-11-15T05:33:00.000-08:00

MY OBITUARY - AS THEY WRITE IT

At particular times of our lives, we feel the need to see ourselves through the eyes of others. And to be read through without the usual prejudices that are, even by sheer chance, never uncommon is too much of an effort. There are far too many ooh-that’s-too-idealistic situations that obstruct our paths when one endeavors to do so. But, little angels flying past my room window did see the goodness in me and whispered a benediction or two that materialised within a very short time. There is this friend, a kid, who I thought and later found out for real, to my satisfaction, was capable of doing this deed for me. He would write me an obituary. One that would speak of me as a person seen by the outside world. One that would not be pressed by silly anxieties and one that would, most important of all, have no prejudices. He knew me through a hundred odd messages which, I must confess, went beyond the weather-talk. I shall say no more; here goes the memorial a dear friend writes for one whom his eyes have never washed over.

“.....days went by....and days went by...

but i actually couldnt see that smile..n the twinkle in your eyes.
unknown by material and known only through msgs

____was a person I have never met yet ive always been with.
this is perhaps a very good example how technology has brought people closer.
he was a person ive communicated till today only by sms.....yet i could see those smiles n sparkles of his expression vibrating through words in glowing text. ......so common and deep .
so much expressible and thoughtful.....sometimes confusing.
they say never try to interpret a complete understanding from a message as u may be wrong.
but in this case it was never so.....it was always interpretable n clear.
he was not one of those people whom you had to wait for a reply for you would get them immediately....this person was pure spontaneity and expression.
there was always a spark of interest in his msgs which really brought a smile to my face,,,
a very good company at the midnight hour......n it was really amusing .....of all those music reviews and book talks.
as time went by,,,
smss popped up here and there and a good friendship bloomed by...
the sun shined
said good bye to those twinkling stars
invited the morning dew
and the morning wind coming by....
into the afternoon and .....
coffee at the evening hour...
as time went by
there was darkness again
and a tear drips by...
as i miss the day..just gone by.

but we must move on and oh yes we will
the fire never subsides but is just sometimes
invisible!
and perhaps it is so just here too
yet another memory
yet another story
but this one by expression
this one by thought
all by msgs.....n never a talk”

2006-10-27T04:33:00.000-07:00

LIVING IN THESE TIMES

Stocks are doing fine. Weather is being rated the best in a long time. Presidents are gaining weight; some of them growing luxuriant hair. Old politicos suddenly are rewarded some publicity. N-deals are being signed. N-deals are being rejected. Inflation is being controlled. Railways is bringing money to the country. The Swiss are getting richer. So are the Americans. So are the British. So are some Indians. Quarter results are being announced. Some are doing great. Salaries are being increased. Some are buying houses. Some cars. Damn the world – I am sad.

Gold is being dug. So is oil. Gold is looted everyday. I wear, he wears, you wear. Everyone wears branded clothes. Branded watches. Shiny shoes. Shiny cars. IPods are sold by the dozen. Every minute. Competition is kindling the long forgotten spirit. The human spirit. The stars are moving away. The sky needs to be darned. Diseases are born. Diseases are fought. I give a damn – I am dissatisfied.

Millionaires are made. Swords are bought. Paintings are auctioned. And paintings are bought. Animals are killed. Men are killed. Forests are murdered. Wood is burnt. Gods are born. Men are worshipped. Boys turn into men. Lust matures to respect. Respect fades into Vacuum. Mothers are killed. Mothers hang themselves killing the wife, the woman. Diamonds are polished. Diamonds are paired. Weed is grown. Weed is sniffed. Sixteen year olds turn seventeen. What the hell – I am not cared for.

Thoughts are dying. Ideas are clicking in everyone’s mind. Two headed creatures are being operated upon. Three eyes, four limbs. One heart. One dies; the other kills. Roads are constructed, flags are flashed. Television gets brilliant anchors. Brilliant shows. Of people dying. Of wars. Of jubilation. Of a ruler losing power. Of a little Miss flirting in public. Disgusting americanisms are born every minute. The English are ridiculed. Time is not honoured. Temples are built. Rats are worshipped.

But I am still hopeless.

2006-10-09T05:52:00.000-07:00

What shall I tell the author?

There are rough days, there are smooth days, there are rainy days and there are sunny days. And there are just days. And it is during these ‘just’ days that many things happen which we fail to remember. We might have remembered the events if it was a rainy day or a sunny day or a bread-for-breakfast day or something along those lines.

The whole of my school days, mostly, have been these kind of ‘just’ days. I do not remember feeling happy or sad, good or bad, excited or bored. In fact I do not remember feeling anything. Maybe things did happen. Important things which get etched in the fresh minds of the ever-enthusiastic kids. Maybe I did smile at a few of the happenings, laughed at a few jokes and secretly cried at some, secretly cried for other reasons as well – getting 14 on 25 in Maths and fearing the worst of treatments at home, not being able to talk as fluently as the next kid when we fought – but I do not remember any of these happening. Call it bad memory or discretion (I sincerely hope this is not the reason) here I am today liking where I am (‘where’ referring to the stage I am in now, number of years I stand on and also the people I find myself cracking jokes with and getting laughed at).

As often happens in the industry I find myself in, there are patches of time when you are on what is very glibly called ‘the bench.’ I have used this time to ponder about life and its close cousin death. On those days I used to ask my fellow bench-mate ‘Do you wish to go back to school?’ more as a means of trying to make the old onion nestled somewhere deep inside recall my days when the calendar showed less crowded days. If there is one question for which the whole world gives the same answer, I realized it was this one. Well obvi….. he said with a drawl that elicited enough of BP that my ear started turning red. Why is it everyone wants to go back to school? What is it that they had which I did not when going to that old institution? It is definitely not the institution, I am sure of that. This I say with the greatest of assurance because kids who studied with me at school are all members of the club which goes ‘Well obvi…’ or ‘Naturallllllllyyyyyy……’ or something to that effect every time they are confronted with the question. It is me then. Will I remember the days I am living now? Will I also forget these days of glory by the time the sun grows a bit more older? What would I tell the enthusiastic young writer when he/she comes to me begging to be the author of my biography? I do not want to be an imaginative story teller then. The author will then refer to my blog.

2006-10-05T19:36:00.000-07:00

Happy belated birthday Anupam.

May all your dreams materialise in the nearest future or whenever you have always wanted them to.

2006-09-29T05:32:00.000-07:00

Thank YOU

Some names may find you staring at them on my blog. Some just do not. They are not on my blog. This is to say to all those who think I care for them, who believe I trust them, who understand that my world is not the same without them –

Thank you – For the Lord for making them and dropping them where I got dropped.

Thank you – For Me for finding them.

Thank you – For you guys for being there.

Thank you – For the Lord again for having the sense to make you guys humans and not animals. I would not have really been friends with you then.

Thank you – For time and circumstances to put us in similar situations for considerable periods of time until we got to know one another well.

If I have not written about you it is only because I have not been able to word what we share as well as it ought to be.

2006-09-29T05:14:00.001-07:00

A Little About Me

In the Mornings - There is no question about any noise emanating from anywhere within a radius of 2 kilo meters. I CANNOT STAND ANY NOISE BEFORE 6 IN THE MORNING. If the world is shaking itself like a teenager gone crazy the person in front of me who has just realized that the house is going to crash has to use his theatrical skills alone to guide me out.

In the nights - There is no question about any noise emanating from anywhere within a radius of 2.5 kilo meters. I CANNOT STAND ANY NOISE AFTER 10 IN THE EVENING. Here even actions do not help. I hate people who make their presence felt after the above mentioned time.

I CANNOT get up to loud NOISE, bright LIGHT or ANY KIND of SMELL. The morning is supposed to be as plain as plain mornings can get. Alarms are okay but I spend a week or two in setting the pitch, the volume and the tone right.

DD NEWS IS A MUST. A day is not complete without watching DD News.

THE SUN MUST NOT BE UP BEFORE I DO. This was partly covered when I said I cannot get up to bright light.

Food must not get close to any kind of cloth. This includes curtains, bedspreads, jeans, rags…

I CANNOT stand any talk about ANIMALS while I am eating. I DO NOT WATCH ANY OF THE ANIMAL CHANNELS.

If you have started to think that I am a not-so-normal guy the likes of whom you would rather not bump into on your way to the park for a morning jog, stall. There is more to me than what I have just said. More of it to come in some time soon.

2006-09-28T05:52:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Shilpi!!!!

Here is wishing the girl with the best hair ‘Happy birthday and all that comes with it’

I hope she has the best of everything in this world.

2006-09-28T05:38:00.000-07:00

My Own

It is one of those days when life is as usual moving past you at a pace that may put to shame the fastest of runners, who have received the best of medals and beamed at the world. One of those days when time becomes a yard stick to measure, excuse me for interrupting, to only measure some milestones set by a middle-ager who is paid for doing nothing but just that – setting milestones. One of those again when smiles meet every face that cares to look at you. Who cares what is behind the smiles?

As the days progress, the people who I had be-friended, almost considered an extended family and with whom, I had for the first time ever felt a sense of belonging, are moving away inch by inch. One finds a job at an other company. One plans to join a production house. One left for Australia. One of the closer ones is leaving to join his Dad’s company. I shall take this opportunity to introduce, thus, some of my friends with whom I have built a bond; amidst whom a warm feeling makes itself prominent in the old bosom.

Today I feel bitten; bitten by the cold winds that I had just heard of. Not that I did not believe in it but I had never before experienced it. To feel poor you must have been rich once. I was rich. I had friends here, around me. The first two seasons of the past year I almost lived with them. Literally. This may be a badly written article, may not explain anything clearly but this is just to say thanks. I hope we shall ever remain friends. The sense of warmth that the best-days-of-my-life-yet brings is priceless. I shall remember them for ever. I do also hope it will be the same with you guys. Wherever you are I wish the best for you.

I shall reframe the same in some time when I get the time.

2006-09-22T06:15:00.000-07:00

THIS ONE – AN ODE

A few decades ago this man, Charles Something-or-the-other, came out with this theory which claimed to explain evolution. Whether it did or not is not something that I would like to get into now. But like all things that become famous just by a stroke of luck or by the power of the men with the papers one of his expressions stuck and how. ‘Survival of the fittest.’ I do not know where he got his English lessons from but I must say he missed out on a few major ones when they were being taught. Fittest? Is that how he categorises all the creatures that have lived long enough to see the light of the day today? And how audaciously he uses the superlative.

The life that Mother Earth harbours is variegated and well spread and mixed. It has creatures that are weak, creatures that are strong and a whole lot of them who fall between these two categories. The system that evolved was one that kept in mind to involve as many number of creatures as possible. Something that goes along the lines of massism. It is very similar to the line of best fit that we have learnt in school. Society or system is something that is like the best fit area that has been drawn from before we were born. And yes, it is rigid and it is not. Rigid for a particular period of time until the area involves the big numbers. But once these masses start moving towards or away from the previous location the area also shifts. And what you see as rigid is but the shape of the area which is wrongly interpreted by you as the location. Location keeps changing but the shape generally remains same. If this society has helped me and a lot of people like me who I proudly claim are not in any way close to being the fittest, then why not? I believe, not everyone, left on their own would do things that would help them live a life of luxury or satisfaction. There are weak minds. There are people who would wither away doing nothing all their lives if they were not forced to do what society, as a rule forces them to do. Here again one may ask why should everyone live within the bounds of the restricting system to benefit others? There are also strong minds. There are minds that could work so tenaciously and smartly that they would have done better than what they could with the restraining reigns of the system. But look at the numbers. I believe the number of people who belong to former category outnumber the people from the latter category by numbers as huge as the number of stars. This is the sacrifice that is expected by the human. To put at ease the lives of people who cannot match him in terms of intellect and strength. No one asks him to do this. The constitution has no rule which mentions this. And this is where society comes in. It lays down these rules that are not really documented as much as the constitution has been. And these are the rules that one would term moral obligation.

You may say that left to desperation all men will tend to themselves – in the process of which some may perish but ultimately we will have people who are all strong minded, strong-willed and what not. And also this process will take less time and we shall see the human race at an all time high with commercial success showing on everyone’s faces and all children of all countries that have survived the revolution going to nice vacations wearing pretty clothes. But the path way I choose, the society-way or the way set by the system is still the better one because though it may be slowing down the progress and increasing the time before economic success shows on the faces of all mankind and kids of all countries, it will ensure me that atleast the kids of all countries- all countries-mind you, will see a sunny morning. These kids may not really think of me or you when they are sitting after a round of games puffing and panting but sure they would thank all the elders and their elders in the form of prayers. Maybe that is why it is a custom to respect our elders and consider them as more than humans rather than just humans who have aged just because they have lived long enough.

2006-09-18T20:26:00.000-07:00

Who weaves who wears

As I trudged the backyards of my Granny's house, walked the streets to my great granny's house, jumped and skipped on my way to temples, played on the roads, fought with girls and guys alike, drove to school with the air of a kid whom no one cares, many an experience have crossed my path that defines the way I think, the way I act and the way I am. Over the years I have wondered if I would have been any different had the streets I have played on, houses I have lived in, people I have met, and temples I have visited been different from the ones I had actually played on, lived in, met and visited. Is it the 'Individual' that matters or is it the circumstances? Who has the bigger hand?