What we should know about 2012

The more important stuff

+ The number of available girls in the market would increase in absolute terms, but reduce as a percentage (over number of available boys)  as increased means of communication with smart phones play a complimentary role to gtalk in establishing relationships in colleges!

+ The blatant use of ‘POKE’ button on Facebook would gradually recede replaced by strategic POKES ;)

+ Facebook will gradually shift from a social networking website to an entertainment / information platform. Kapil Sibal will open an account, and will get 1 billion pokes a day.

+ Manmohan Singh will definitely speak more now that he has a new PR guy (not sure if he will be heard though)

+ CAT will no longer meow as much as it used to

+ Indian Cricket team will make a comeback (Hell yeah!)

The less important stuff

+ By mid 2012, most of Europe will slowly enter into recession. Euro will take a severe hit, while US$ would start picking (slowly though). Germany would become the most powerful European country while the likes of Greece will suffer

+ UK will see a tremendous rise in tourism based revenue on the back of Olympics scheduled to be held later in the year

+ Manmohan Singh’s government will have to finally take a stand on various controversial issues including Lokpal, FDI regulations across sectors (especially Airlines and Retail)

+ USA would slowly withdraw army from Iraq, while American oil companies establish themselves in the region

+ Anna’s team will try their best to pressurize the government, while the Congress will continue to find charges against its members, slowly breaking up their spirit as public interest in politics would quickly wane away again

+ Increased murmur in power corridors across the world about screening of content on the internet, giving rise to overarching global laws on behaviour of an ‘internet citizen’ (five to six years from now)

+ Chances of a default by a European country though minimally low, put various American banks at risk, due to overexposure in the CDS market. Risks of a full blown global financial breakdown are low but not zero!

A fast track city!

I have been living in a metro for close to half a dozen months, and it has been quite an experience. The city has greeted me well with awesome weather, a mix and match of airport runways and Harappan pavements, better traffic than Delhi and lots of work! The reason I say ‘metro’ is because, I have never lived this long in one before, and to be honest I feel strange and out-of-place here! 

Just to give you a background, I spent 17 years in Dehradun, while it was still a small town with few people and good looking girls (it still has good looking girls, but can’t say the same about the population), then spent four years in Allahabad, the land of budding politicians and IAS officers, where people still use bicycle as a mode of conveyance and my latest two years, I spent at Shillong, the city that sleeps at 7 in the evening and wakes up at 6 in the morning..

So, I have landed up here ‘down-south’, and I don’t like it and I am not talking about food here. You know when they say, ‘when in Rome, do what the Romans do’, well, I just can’t get myself to absorb this ‘roman’ behaviour in India. There are things which really make me feel that either I am too narrow minded or I have grown too old! I have the following complains.

Heavy metal is not the end of music:

It is fine if you like the growls and loud metal sound, but you don’t have to make an ‘i rock’ sign every time your song plays and start acting as if you are ‘possessed’. It gets even more nauseous if you do it trying to impress a girl. I am not saying that metal is bad (no form of art can ever be bad), it is just the blatant display of ‘I am cool because I know that song’, what I don’t like. May be it turns your girl on, but there can be better ways to impress the ladies than acting high and bobbing your head.

ManU v/s Chelsea:

For all the EPL fans, your jerseys look cool (even I have a Gerrard jersey I got as a gift), but if you do not know who Sunil Chhetri is, you have no right to wear them (those who know, please ignore the rest of this stanza).  It is good to have interests and be passionate about things, but bragging about your knowledge of the latest scoreline, or ‘I am cool because I love Arsenal’ while you have no idea of what is going in Indian sports is not cool! 

For the bhaiyas and didis:

Just one request, Bhaiyas and didis, please control yourself in public places, there are kids around (families as well). There is a reason why we have walls in our house, otherwise it would have been doors, windows and ceiling only. Period.

Girls:

I will be honest, I had never seen a girl smoke before, and when I saw it live, it did startle me! I am not against girls who smoke, it is a free country and everyone has a right to choose how he/she dies. I just find it slightly difficult to assimilate.

There is a reason why men became hunters and women stayed at home, a reason why women have special seats in buses and metros, a reason why God made us both different. Women are supposed to bring more balance and sanity (IIMs are not offering a girls’ quota for no reason), and if they start acting like men, it feels uncomfortable. Maybe I have pre-historic views but that is how it stands. (Apologies!) 

It is also sad to see girls not brought up in big towns trying to act like they have never travelled on a cycle rikshaw before. Please, a sincere request, “wear it only if you like it” and “drink it only if you can handle it” (there is nothing more dangerous than a drunk girl), because this is not Rome, Paris or London. We are still in India. If not for anyone else, then please do it for Anna.


Autowallahs

I have travelled in Delhi, but it was never this difficult to commute in an auto. The Rajni inspired auto wallahs charge you at whim, and can even refuse to let you in. 'Wapas khaali aana padega, isliye jyada rate hoga'. I will never understand this argument. We are living a bloody metropolitan, not in a jungle, please someone explain, how "khaali wapas aana padega"?

There is much more I could write but I guess this would be enough for now! Ciao!

Disclaimer

The views expressed above are only author’s perceptions of things around him. The author bears no hatred or malice towards any gender, caste, religion, country, state or district. Penelope Cruze’s photo showing her smoking a cigarette is the author’s favourite photo of all time.(Movie: Vicky Christina Barcelona)

India and Batman

It was a fun filled month for all the Indian Batman fans as we had our very own desi version of Bruce Wayne trying to fight for justice and attempting to clean up our Gotham city. Mr. Hazare in his own unique ways reminded me of The Dark Knight, trying to rejuvenate a slowly decaying system. His greatest problem however is that unlike Batman, he has to face more than one Joker, and all of them are actually very SERIOUS, when it comes to standing against them. I attempted to analyse his actions against the government, and noticed certain very peculiar things, not uncommon for Batman, but certainly astonishing if you consider Mr. Hazare a simple Gandhian.

Timing of the protest: A fast unto death was organised during the auspicious period of Navratri. Whether Mr. Hazare seeked Goddess Durga’s blessings along with an approval for the Lokpal Bill, is merely a speculative question but the timing may have proved beneficial for the entire protest. Fasting Indians must have thought it was better to sit in Jantar Mantar or other parks across India, for it would not only help them show solidarity with Mr. Hazare, but would also covertly please Goddess Durga, so that they can have more of wealth, health, fame etc. etc. A protest squeezed in the week falling between Cricket World Cup and IPL, coinciding with Navratri was either a well thought out strategy (just like Batman), or a mere fluke. Anyways, lets move on to the next point.

Role of Indian Media: That Mr. Hazare’s protest was highly publicised and discussed is a well known fact. What astonishes me actually is that, there were and are, several other issues of critical national importance which have been sidelined by the Indian media. Whether an 80 year old man staying hungry by choice deserves more attention than a 60 year old farmer dying of hunger is a question answered by TRP. No one wants to know whether a city in India has been cut off so badly from the mainland that leave alone medicine, even the necessary food items have not been available to its residents for more than 20 days. People are more interested in seeing a close to 40 year old getting badnaam because of his brother in law, while his husband is nowhere to be seen. But my point is, how come Mr. Hazare gathered such media attention in such a short time? Think about it.

The name calling: Indian media has a very bad habit of adding prefixes, postfixes or using a pseudonym for a popular or infamous personality and frankly they are not very good at it. More than 90% of the names for scandals are an allotrope of the famous Watergate scam and it makes me wonder that we need either more creative or at least better read people, in Indian journalism. Anyways, calling Mr. Hazare a second Gandhi is an insult to both individuals according to me. While Mr. Gandhi was a great man who deserved to be called the Father of India (ignoring the subaltern studies), though it is another issue how his entire family has been shrewdly kept out of Indian politics by the Congress, he would never have preferred comparing himself with Hazare. Its like comparing Dhoni (Hazare) with Sachin (Gandhi), where Dhoni is yet to achieve what Sachin has accomplished. And also, we should have first asked Mr. Hazare, how he felt after being called a semi nude old man who needed a stick to walk straight. However, whether the name ‘Second Gandhi’ was coined by the media or passed to it by someone else is an important question. Yet again, think about it!

I thought it would be a great disrespect to our PM if I ignored him in this post about issues which matter to us. As it is, he has been ignored so many times by his own cabinet and his party that I feel sorry for him. Ministers in his ministry have acquired wealth equal to Ghana’s annual GDP, while he still has the same old blue turban on him. When the entire Anna Hazare issue took place, PM only said “Yeh acchi baat nahi hai” like Mr. Vajpayee used to say, but in English. Moreover, the Govt. sent out Mr. Sibal to act as the mediator while the PM remained silent as usual. Sir itni safai leke kahan jaaoge? Anyways, I hope he has not forgotten that his first responsibility is towards Indian citizens and then to the Gandhi family. Sometimes I get the feeling that he has his priorities the other way around! L

P.S. : Sometimes it is better to play the devil's advocate. Not only does it bring out better perspectives, but it is also fun!

To Meow or not

As soon as the CAT and other MBA entrance results are out, a pertinent question which had been delayed till the day of the results, comes back from the grave like the Undertaker, and starts encircling the minds of the 'aspirants' akin to the manner in which the wrestling God moves around his opponent. The question, or actually the only question which can make or break your chances of getting into a 'decent' MBA college - "Why do you want to do an MBA?". I am pretty sure that the only person who can answer that question with 100% clarity is Rajnikanth, for the lesser mortals, well, they need to prepare their defences. Here I will attempt to present the reasons why people should do an MBA and who should not, hoping it helps someone in making his final interview answer unique and interesting.

Why you should do an MBA

1. For freshers: If your graduation (you may include schooling) was like Greg Chappel's coaching and you have been turned into an Irfan Pathan with absolutely no clarity about your role, opt for an MBA and try to cool off for a while. Lay low, get your thought process straight before you go out into the big bad world. You may as well become a free rider, and enjoy two years of extended holiday. There are some who simply do not wish to join a company, well an MBA is the perfect medicine for you clumsy bastards who in four years of engineering, have changed three keyboards and two mouse pads with mouse, playing FIFA, CS or chatting with someone you thought likes you.

2. For Work-ex guys: I am sure that having worked in a company helps you a lot in building such a strong perception about everything, that not even American Air Force's best Hawks could carpet it down. Well, for those people who seem to be bored by their work, or want a change in career, or wish to laze around, or wish to run away from their girlfriend, or wish for something other than a 9 to 5 schedule, MBA offers you a package you simply can't reject. You have earned enough (you think), to manage your expenses so you do an MBA to realise that the person teaching you is not much older than you, and most of the stuff being taught to you, you already know! And most importantly you realise that half your class could have been your sons or daughters if you had married at an appropriate age! {On a serious note, I have a lot of respect for the work-ex guys, for it is them who bring some sanity and sobreity in the batch, which otherwise would become gang of hooligans if the freshers were left to themselves.}

3. Money: If you want money in life, do an MBA. Period.

4. Girls: MBA girls are like Vodafone 3G - Faster, Smarter, Better. So you may join and take your chance. In my two years I have seen a lot of young couples form within a span of less than 6 months and then carry on from there. If you have been deprived of female courtship in your graduation (BTech, specifically) and even while working you could not hit it off with girls, MBA is just the place for you. Sometimes, this makes me think whether Pt. Nehru thought about the concept of IIMs with Lady Mountbatten in mind. Anyways, you get the wind, the choice is yours!

Who should not do an MBA

1. If your name is Piyush Chawla, or if you have similar acquaintances: If you know people who matter in this country, you should not waste your two years reading something which is never even used. Instead you may spend your time in more productive activities like listening to good music or going on a world tour. Learn something from Piyush Chawla, how many domestic matches did he play (leave alone ODIs) before playing the WC - 2011? So, enjoy life if you can, MBA is not for you!

2. If you think that Newton and Leibnitz contirbuted far more to the society than Paul Krugman can ever imagine to do: Well, you are the one with the scientific bent! The world needs people like you! Go do an MS abroad (and a PhD if you remain sane), and conribute in a more productive way, rather than making pie charts and bar graphs. MBA is not for you!

3. If you like to sleep: If you have been living like a sloth so far and wish to continue your way of life, please do not join an MBA institute. Not only will you make life hell due to all the workload you will not be able to handle, you will also trouble your groupmates who will have to drag you along with them while working on case studies and presentations. Well, if you can survive with that moral guilt of making people slave for you, you may choose to come but at your own risk (there have been cases where slaves have murdered their own master).

With this I end this post! Hope you liked it and I wish it actually helps someone in making a choice between MBA and not-MBA.

WISHLIST

Lets make this simple. Following are few of the things I wish should happen in the coming year, and why I have come out with such a list would become obvious to you by the time you reach the end. So lets begin.

1. Removal of ‘About Me’ from all social networking websites. For God’s sake only three kinds of people who actually take the trouble of filling it. First in the list are those obnoxious, self-dignified narcissists who find themselves too hard to resist! Second are those who are new to such social networking websites and fill out all the details asked, as if they are filling an entrance examination form. Lastly, the third breed uses (copies) quotations, various fonts and satires which makes them seem like overly intellectual or creative! In all cases, the purpose of having an ‘About Me’ is subverted. So, Mr. Zuckerberg and Mr. Page please save us from the trouble!

2. Indian Prime Minister should start taking an ‘energy’ drink: The reason I wish this happens is because somehow in past year one of the most educated leaders of the world has shown his vulnerability when handling certain potent issues. His ‘perceived’ impotency will be alleviated if the Supreme Court (which itself requires a vaccum cleaner to remove all the filth it has accumulated) ‘suggests’ (as it usually does) a remedial drug for his ailment.

3. Mr. Suresh Kalmadi should become the IPL commissioner: The only reason why I want this to happen is because Mr. Kalmadi’s ineptitude at handling such events would ensure that we do not have to see to cheerleaders dancing like a mooncalf when a boundary is hit. It looks lame, seriously, those fair cheerleaders ‘grooving’ around near the boundary! If we want to watch a lady ‘groove’ like that, there are much better ways, please don’t soil the game of cricket.

4. Farah Khan should start full time social service: Studies show that after the release of ‘Tees Maar Khan’ sale of dispirin and other analgesics increased dramatically! May be coincidental, but she is not good at making movies anyway. May be her PR skills and ability to wheedle out money from poor producers can help in a social cause and contribute more to India’s growth than filling government coffers through entertainment tax.

5. India should win the cricket world cup: However, seeing their current form, the men in blue seem to be riding on a strange kind of luck than on performance! I hope it gets rectified because Sachin alone cannot always save the team from sinking.

6. I want less bloodshed: Half of our energy goes in controlling the Indo-Pak border, quarter of it goes in keeping an eye on the Sino-India border and the remaining is spent on handling internal violence and terrorism. My opinion (which does not count for obvious reasons) is that these problems should be added to the list of Millennium Problems if we are interested in a solution.

2011 is going to be full of surprises and mega events! So, till the time December comes hold on tight, because this is going to be the year of change!

The Unseen Thread

Scene 1

Scene opens: Two farmers talking at a distance, a young hermit sitting under a tree deep in meditation

Farmer 1: “Who is this strange sage, I have never seen someone so deep in meditation? I had once met a rishi from the Himalayas, he told me that meditation was a way to connect to God, however he never talked about a meditation after starving yourself”

Farmer 2: “I have heard he is some dethroned king looking for salvation. I wonder why he chose our city. He had the Himalayas to go to. Everyone goes there to meditate!”

Farmer 1: “Anyways I have got lots of work to do. You keep admiring him while I finish my chores”

(Farmer 1 walks off)

Farmer 2 walks closer to the hermit and watches him for some time. The farmer knew that the hermit had been sitting under the tree more 48 days now and had neither risen nor had eaten anything. He wondered what madness drove this lunatic so much that he wished to die of hunger while meditating. The farmer was of a kind heart though, and wanted to help the hermit. So he decided to wait there for sometime hoping that the hermit would open his eyes and he would then ask him if he needed any food or water.

So, the farmer silently whispered in the hermit’s ears, “I will wait here for some time. If you plan to open your eyes and eat something, just tell me” and sat down. No sooner did he sit than the hermit opened his eyes and smiled at the farmer.

Farmer 2 was a little surprised and said, “So you actually were hungry!”

The hermit kept smiling and replied, “Not anymore!”

[Scene closes]

Scene 2 (Post war scene)

Bodies lie pell-mell, with red blood strewn all over them. Bows, arrows and spears all red with blood thrown around carelessly. One man stands in the middle of it all with tears in his eyes. He walks up to one body after another crying endlessly, frantically. He was looking for something, someone probably and suddenly stops. He falls down on his knees and picks up the body of an old lady.

The wailing gets louder as the man hugs the dead old lady close to him. His eyes, redder than the blood flowing, filled with remorse, guilt and pain, look up seeking redemption. He falls down un-conscious.

[Some hours later]

He wakes up in his camp. Still no word spoken. He lifts his sword and arrows and places it down on the ground and folds his hands kneeling down before the bodies lying in front of him.

Little did he know that he was about to write history on stone (literally!)

[Scene closes]

Scene 3

Two gentlemen seated in a makeshift meeting room consisting of a table, two chairs, two teacups and a briefcase. The older of the two seems animated and starts off, “Don’t worry now, you just leave the briefcase here and sleep peacefully”.

The younger man gives a sheepish smile, folds his hands and leaves the room. Another man enters the room and complains, “Sir, it is wrong! Taking money for granting a project is ok, but this would put lives of a thousand common men in jeopardy!”

The older man retorts, “Shut up! Just do as I say and you will get your share too!” The man shakes his hand as if dismissing all complaints and gets back to his unfinished tea.

The younger, seemingly displeased, lifts the briefcase and leaves the room.

[Few months later]

A newspaper headline reads, “Train derails near Kushinagar, as newly constructed bridge collapses. More than 700 feared dead.”

[Scene closes]

The ideas that should have paved the way forward for a new India somehow got lost in the sands of time. A young prince disregarded all his wealth and left his home in search of truth, because he could not bear the pain which he saw people suffering from. An emperor probably the greatest ever, wrote down in stone the facets of effective governance. Yet very few pay heed to it!

The thread that should have been a binding force for our nation has either been lost or chooses to remain invisible.

The Lost Pages

Imagine a child, a very young child, too innocent to understand the meaning of money, power and politics, whose restless hands are constantly itching to play with a new toy, given a book to read, as a gift. The child overwhelmed by his twitchy fingers tears off pages from the book, strewing them all over the house.

Now imagine, God being that child and that book containing the story of our lives. God being too arrogant and 'god-like' to make things easy for humans, enjoys ripping apart the story book of our lives and throwing the pages all over, like the child earlier. While we live, breathe, walk, smile, cry, dance, admire, love, get loved etc. all of us are picking up those lost pages of our life book trying to make sense of the ‘story’ as it unfolds and hoping to figure out the climax before it is reached!

For the past many years I have been picking up those lost pages trying to make sense of ‘my story’ but the only thing that I have learned is that God is an amazing mystery story writer, because ‘my story’ (like yours too) is one with amazing twists, dramatic scene shifts, soothingly funny incidents and agonisingly sad moments. No matter how hard we try to predict the occurrences in a mystery novel, by the time the novel ‘finishes’ we understand how naive we had been all the while. We try to judge ‘characters’ as good and bad, classifying ‘acts’ into evil and angelic and assuming that story will proceed as we expect it to be, yes we all make the same mistakes. We never understand that “good and bad never exist in reality; rather they are mere false conclusions made by us about characters and events, without reading the novel till the very last word!”

Thus it is best to pick up the pages as and when we find them, keep them and hope that one day we find that elusive last page and be able to make complete sense of our lives!

Why I chose to write on ‘The Lost Pages’ is because this happens to be the blog title [click here]of a person I have learned to admire and respect a lot! Somehow he had figured out much earlier that life wasn’t an aimless dance of a falling leaf, rather it was a continuous search for the lost pages of your life. Hats off!

On a Valentine’s Day

As I woke up today with a shoulder that hurt like hell, the first thing I heard (read from a Gtalk SM) was about a blast in Pune. The day proceeded there on. It is Valentine’s Day and my day starts with the news of an act of utmost hatred! I have never felt comfortable with idea of having a single day celebrating love. And that day too has been disfigured and moulded into a money minting exercise by the ‘corporate’. This along with the bad news made me call up home and talk to the person I love the most, my mom. It had been a while since I had talked to her (the network here in Shillong does need a lot of work) so I obviously felt lighter after talking to her (although the talking was mostly from her side asking the usual queries about food, health and weather).

There are days when you want to dance and have fun and then there are days when you want a quiet place for yourself. Today happens to be the latter for me. There are people dying because of hunger, war and terrorism, yet we make farce celebration of humanity and love today. The true meaning of love has been lost and all that remains today is charred debris of a noble emotion. All of us wish to be happy and continuously strive for it and in this endless pursuit very few pay attention to a neighbor with a sad face. We have lost our reason, our thought process lies in shambles and yet we have the courage to stand up and make a happy face.

This is all that I’ll write for now. And if you believe that I am feeling low today, relax, my motto in life is simple and straightforward:

“When I am sad, I stop being sad and become awesome instead”

Barney Stinson (HIMYM)

THE HISTORY REPEATS

Life at a fledgling management institute after graduating from an old and established engineering institution has been challenging. A lot of things have changed, and this includes my attitude towards life and humans (:P). The funny thing about my leaving college was that I was probably the last final year on campus. I went to see off everyone, each time returning sadder than before.
Before coming to Shillong, I was apprehensive about the kind of ‘friends’ I would make here, but more than four months down the pipe, I find that life is fun again. I have met a lot of new people, made new friends, learnt new things. etc etc etc…but somehow I find a similarity between the people I have met here, and my friends at MNNIT.

Following are small excerpts from big dialogues.
Sourjyo: Ideas become a part of cloud of other ideas. This is how logic evolves, which is just another abstraction of a collection ideas picked from the cloud.
Hassan: Life is like that buddy. Sometimes you go up, sometimes you come down. Mine has been down most of the time, but that’s another story.

Naagu (at 12:30 PM): Chaai piyega charre??
Mohit (at 12:30 PM): Chalo be chi-chi. Ek coffee maar ke aate hain..

Sai (In Mess): See I am incharge of only ‘Hostel Affairs’. Food quality is not under my jurisdiction. Please talk to Manav.
Hemant: Abhi caretaker se baat chal rahi hai.. jald hi naya menu aayega. Thoda sabar rakho.

Saumya Sir: Dhang se baitha kar..Lot mat lagaya kar... Tumhare chacha aayenge chaadar sahi karne.
Vishal: @##$^^$% ke… yeh chaadar tera baap sahi karega..aur yeh all out kyon neeche giraya..??

Sumit Kedia: Bhai who video dekha jiska link diya tha? Jabar video hai…
Mukul : Aa tujhe ek music video dikhata hoon masst wala..

SSP(f): Tera kuch nahi ho sakta.. Get lost.
Putaaiwala: Tu jindagi bhar aisa hi rehna.. Kuch ni ho sakta tera.. Bahar nikal kamre se..

RD (our OB Prof): Haan Anurag.. tumne hi badmashi ki hogi..
Kar Sir: Yeh bahut badmaash hai.. Pehchaanta hoon ise main..

Rana: Bas kar Jochi (yeah that’s how he pronounces it). Kitni ladkiyon ko sambhalega ek baar mein.... :O
Singla: Woh dekh be nimbu.. teri bandi jaari…

Lavneesh: waapas aana hai naa be.. Main ticket karwa raha hoon…
SoKuPa: Main bhi jaaunga tere saath.. karwa diyo ticket.. paisa le lena..

Hitesh: Hum to hain hi kaminey.. khule aam bolte hain.. but koi sunti hi nahi…
Pankaj: #@#^&**.. Mujhe farak ni padta ki kon ladki kya soch ri mere bare mein.. (After some time) Bhai but _____ aaj kya gajab lag rahi thi.. :P..

This and a lot more has happened in the past few months.. But the funny thing is .. Its so different. Yet it’s the same. Somehow…. :)

Light through a Prism

Fierce winds-Rain lashing down-lightning-face of a man appears-fear-darkness-splashes-someone running-gunshot-blood-murder-scream.

Tim wakes up, wet with sweat. He has been dreaming the same dream…again. Same dream since past 11 years. He felt his head, throbbing with pain. The agony of dreaming the same dream, every night was showing its effect. Sleep is good when you have different dreams every night. Some prefer a dreamless sleep. Nightmares are better than having only one dream flooding each night of your life. Yet philosophers talk about the relevance of a dream. They have talked about how dreams shape reality. Criss cross, zip zap… they say that it is when you dream..that you create… worlds are created and destroyed in dreams..future can also be seen…. But now imagine the plight of a man, who has not had a dream but one. Who before going to sleep each night, knows what will happen, and yet wakes up each night scared.. more than before..Tears roll down.. as the sun rises in his window..

_________________________________________________________

Imagine a market place, buzzing with activity. Right in the middle of the road, a lady screams out for help. Everyone hears, but no one listens. The lady, naked, cries out as rogues tear her clothes apart, rip them and burn them until they change into smoke..The smoke.. probably orange…or white.. or green..it was not clear..instead of going up, falls down, forming a cloud, blurring vision, so that nothing was visible. Shrieks could still be heard…and then suddenly a sound of gold coins, hitting the road, as the mystical lady cried and her tears fall on ground as gold..Minor squabbles give rise to more blood, as the on-lookers now rush towards the fallen gold.

The lady continues to cry, the rogues start cutting off parts from her body, hurling them miles away..and the people..indifferent..fill their pockets and rush home….

_________________________________________________________

A leaf falls from the branch, a gentle breeze starts to blow. The leaf it appears from a distance to be dancing, enjoying the light wind, the sun and freedom from being perpetually bonded to a tree. It had taken eternity for the leaf to be free, and now that it was, there seemed to be no end to its happiness. Nature it seemed, too enjoyed the leaf’s freedom as it continued to dance and fall gently. Then it hit the ground, with a dull thud and everything stopped.

_________________________________________________________

Wall

A wall stands by the road that leads to the old town of Tinsel. A wall that has seen times change, and has been withered down by torrential rains, heavy gusts and scorching sun. The wall painted in orange white green, each colour neatly painted as a horizontal stripe, now reeks of ammonia and mosses grow along the fissures. The white color has fallen apart, as flakes, at various points in time, when the sun was too hot or it rained heavily or whenever a young man newly in love, felt like making his love immortal by etching down his beloved’s name alongside his own. The green being closer to the ground is decorated in places by betel marks, red in colour, such that the green now looks like the political map of a democratic country, with spots of green separated by blood colored lines.

With time, the orange has slowly seeped down like slowly flowing lava consuming everything that falls in its path. Parts of white now appear orange-ish, with the wall giving the appearance of painter’s masterpiece that did not come out well in the end. The old and forlorn wall is often talked about by both the young and the old, as to how the wall was the dream of a few artists, who wanted it to compliment the journey to Tinsel. They wanted the travelers (going to Tinsel to realize their destiny) to stop by at the wall, sit in its shade and probably elongate the wall further along the road to make the journey even more beauteous.

But the wall today, made ugly by the fissures, patches from color that has peeled off, strong smell of ammonia and the red marks, now appears like a blood thirsty stinking monster, waiting to gobble down any human soul that passes it.

Its time to repaint.

The Snitch

In the game of quidditch, the snitch is third and the most important of all balls. It is the job of the seeker to catch hold of the snitch and as soon as that happens, the game ends. In real life, all of us irrespective of our gender, position, age and background are in search of our own snitch. It may be wealth, success, tranquility, leisure, pleasure, love, gain, glory etc. etc. etc. The list is endless. Just like the seeker, we need to be alert and quick to grab hold of the snitch. If we are too lazy to move or too distracted to look out for the snitch we shall miss an opportunity that might be decisive in determining the outcome of our life/game.

Each of these hunts for our snitch, ultimately boils down to a process of introspection followed by a period of evolution. The first step is always the identification of your goals followed by a series of attempts to achieve them. It is just like chasing a snitch when you see it. You may not be able to get hold of it the first time, or second time or the thousandth time. But each time you make an attempt to grab it, you learn something new about the snitch. You learn how fast it flies, how quickly it can turn, the response time, the effect of wind on its speed etc. All of this information will ultimately help us to reach closer to catching that elusive high flying treasure.

Those who understand the game of snitch are the ones who ultimately end up catching it. Only those who have the patience and determination to chase it are the ones who will be able to grab it.

‘All of us are like actors on stage, and there is only one thing that we should do. Play our character and leave the stage with a smile.’

15 th August, 1947.

In winters it is pretty easy to find ragged beggars lying beside the street, battling the cold. You watch them and pity them and move ahead, leaving the wretched poor man on his own. You go for shopping and stop by at a local restaurant for a snack. A small child comes up and hands you a glass of water. Some of us sadly contemplate whether the child should be at school, or working in a restaurant. While we are thinking about this, food is served and even before we are aware of it, we are out of the place, probably returning home or finishing the last of our shopping. You are standing by your father, who is visiting a government office for some work. He takes out a 100 rupee note from his pocket, gives it to another man, who happily accepts it and when you are getting out of the building your father seems to be extremely happy about something. You glance at him and obliges you by saying "chalta hai.!".

Such instances have often been quoted in the mundane essays on the moral degradation of Indian society and the current state of our country. The essays primarily target the lack of compassion, low sense of morality and the greed for fame and money that has become an inherent part of our civilization. But nothing so far has stressed specifically on the failures of our forefathers and its consequences on our lives. India currently faces its worst ever crisis situation after independence. We don' t realize the magnitude of the problem yet, but soon we will see how 60 years of carelessness affects the lives of the 100 million people in the country. Economic crunch, security crisis, parochialism, caste based politics, corruption, religious intolerance, low level of technological research, poor infrastructure, famished farmers and a failed leadership are few of the many problems that we face today. To cut a long story short, today all of us individually and as a country stand at the most critical juncture of our lives. The next five years of our lives will not only determine our future but also the future of our country. Our reaction to the sorry state of affairs that has been plaguing our lives for so long, would ultimately decide the fate of this country.

A country which has the potential to become really great, has lost its direction. More than three generations of indifference towards malpractices has led to today. Our parents and their parents and their parents too, all had a sole motive in life. They wanted their children and grandchildren to live a happy and LUXURIOUS life and so engrossed had they been in fulfilling this motive that they almost forgot about the country. No one cared/cares about who represents them in the Parliament, as long as he/she belongs to the same caste. Bribes are ok if it serves their purpose, but its bad when its shown on TV. India has bred a complete generation of hypocrites, who have torn the country and its future into tiny shreds. But my question is "Why should we pay for your mistakes? If you lost your pride as an Indian, does that mean that I too have to be selfish like you? Even if you were naive and immature, why do expect us to be the same?". Their actions have snowballed into a huge mass if ice rolling down speedily towards us. An action needs to be taken and that too, quickly.

The future is not as bleak as it appears today, but to make sure that India starts moving in the right direction, corrective measuers have to be taken. We need to rise above our individual differences and identify our goals clearly. If we want India to be developed by 2020, well, we have to work towards it. It is not just a single person from amongst us who has to stand up and take responsibility, everyone has to be a part of it. We have to understand how small individual actions affect the larger mass. A sense of responsibility not only towards yourself but also towards the person sitting beside you is extremely important. All of us are blessed with a sense of right and wrong, and its time that we start using it too. You who reads this, hold the key to the future of our country, just make sure that you open the correct door...


Thank you.

Story of a Boy

It was the last Sunday of May, an important day for the young boys of Picaris. It was on this day that an annual ritual was performed where all young ones made their own roller board and took part in a race. A race that did not mean much to the older men of the town, but for the local boys it meant eternal glory.

It was a little cloudy today, quite strange for the month of May. Sundays in Picaris were usually bright. But still all young boys of the town had reached the rendezvous on time and could be seen as a group of bright eyed and talkative young buccaneers ready with their boards. Their fancy boards marked a resemblance to their own spirits, as all of them smiled while covertly looking at the next person’s board. It was serious competition after all. All kids were accompanied by their fathers who watched excitedly from the sidelines as their sons made preparations for the showdown.

In all this excitement no one noticed a kid who stood alone quietly observing his own board, which looked like a piece of trash in front of the other gleaming masterpieces. The poor fatherless child had made it himself out of wood from a local carpenter’s shop. His mother had told him that it was impossible for him to even compete in the race without a proper board. Yet he promised his mother that he would take part in the race. Winning did not matter to him. But now a feeling of disappointment and fear had gripped him as he watched the other kids wiping their boards clean for the final race. He had only finished making the board yesterday and did not get the time to test it once. What if he failed? What if the board broke apart in the middle of the race? It would be a disgrace not to even complete the race. People would laugh at him for being a fool to compete without a proper roller-board. And more importantly the other kids had their fathers looking after them, whereas he stood there alone and dejected.

He closed his eyes remembered his mother, he remembered the promise he had made to her. ”I will not fail. I will complete the race”, he said to himself. He remembered how his mother had told him that God was his father and that he was always looking after him. He prayed to God to give him the strength to complete the race. He wanted to have the courage to face everyone lest he failed, so he asked God for that too. The sky had started to clear. The clouds had begun to disappear.

Closing his eyes he gently took his position. The race was about to begin, and all participants arranged themselves neatly in a line, ready to roll. The final whistle blew and all the kids pushed their boards to top speed. Five minutes into the race, one could see that a lot of fancy boards had swayed off course, out of the race track and were thus disqualified. The young boy’s board rolled steadily towards the finish line. The sun beamed happily across the child’s happy face. He could see himself finishing the race. God had given him the strength he wanted. And thus after a few more second the boy not only completed the race, but also won it. He was awarded with a trophy and some sweets. Other kids looked surprisingly at the kid and realized the importance of keeping the design of a roller-board simple. The fancy ones they had, didn’t balance the weight properly and thus strayed off course. The boy took the trophy and walked home. He wanted to see the expression on his mother’s face when he walked into the house with that trophy in his hand. People saw him looking up at the sky as he walked past them. No one but the boy understood what had just passed.

Perhaps we spend too much of our time in asking God to help us rig the race. We want him to help us win while we should seek his grace in giving us strength. The other kids had wanted God to help them win, while the young kid asked for strength to bear the troubles that lay in his path. It is unimportant whether he won the race or not, what is important is that he believed in God and more importantly he had courage. And just to end the story.

“Do you want to win or do you want others to see you win?”

I shall be waiting for your response. I had read the story a long time back in the ‘The Speaking Tree’, just wanted to share it with you.

Coffee.. anyone??

‘The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one’s self. All sin is easy after that’

I got very poor grades in my Moral Science in school, so theoretically I flunked at the very beginning of starting out my life as a social animal, and hence the following article is not exactly certified by the Board for Secondary Education. But then this is a free country, I can do and say whatever I like and get away with it. So this time, I am merely jotting down my views on a very common occurrence of our lives. A thing that gained my interest very recently, when I had to sit down for half an hour with a friend of mine constantly whining about cheating in examinations.

I do not intend to take a stand, and spit fire at those involved in the highly skilled art of cheating. The article merely mentions some very key elements involved in the complex problem. The difficulty with any argument against such things is that it continuously revolves around ethics and morality, thereby making it not only cumbersome but also hypocritical. I intend to elucidate certain aspects of this grievance which very often are forgotten when examining a problem of such nature.

Firstly, we need to define cheating. As oxford puts it ‘an act of dishonesty to gain profit’ is cheating. Overlapping the above definition with our educational system we get a clear idea of what cheating is. An action which gives you an unfair advantage over others in an examination will be termed as cheating. Therefore any such act like carrying chits, writing on desks, and other means can be easily clubbed together as an act of cheating liable for punitive action. But the definition has a flaw. Suppose in an examination of 100 students, 60 are involved in the unfair practices, does it still give you an extra advantage or does it simply bring you at par with others around you? Think about it..

Secondly, the ‘art of cheating’ as I put it requires both skill and courage to carry it out successfully without being caught. The level of difficulty involved in any method of cheating clearly keeps a check on the practice and only those in dire need of passing the examination resort to such methods. But when it becomes easy to cheat and gain marks, obviously there will be a swarm of students indulging themselves in such acts. When you are sure of not getting punished for doing a bad deed, can you be held guilty for trying to gain an added advantage in today’s competitive world?

Thirdly, any student involved in the act of cheating can never be trusted with a position of responsibility. As a student there are certain norms we must follow and groom our self for the future difficulties, while working within those rules. An act of cheating does not indicate a rebellion, rather it accentuates the weakness of a person’s moral fiber. A person who succumbed to the small pressure of passing an examination will obviously not be able to handle situations in real life which not only pressure but also money and lives of a lot of people. Entitling such a person to key position in any organization would only jeopardize the company’s future.

Fourthly, nobody is born a criminal; you become one only when the circumstantial pressures become overwhelming. Students resorting to cheating shows the amount of pressure being put on the young minds, and the fact that knowledge today is judged by the grades and not on abilities. I have so far avoided speaking on cheating being wrong morally simply because we today are living in world where we need logic and reasoning to prove everything. People today don’t understand emotions and look for reasons to explain every action. But there is a sense of right and wrong in every human being which cannot be denied, and our conscience clearly tells us what is morally correct and what is not. Stabbing a person is not the same as slapping him, and our conscience tells us this. We don’t need rocket science to prove the difference between good and bad. In a similar fashion cheating and using unfair means is simply bad and we know it. You don’t have to prove or disprove it. We already are blessed with a sense which does it for us.

Finally, cheating does in fact get you in a position of advantage over others. As we know that in war it is always beneficial to have a vantage point under your command. Hence I ask what is wrong with a person seeking a head over others in a difficult competition? Now the only answer I got was, that in a society like ours, driven solely by monetary gains, it is completely rational to cheat if it benefits you.

As you can see, most of the points mentioned above simply turn out to be self contradictory, and complexly intermingled. Also it can be seen that it is not that cheating is itself the problem, it is merely an outcome of a lot different things spiraling in space and intertwining with each other. Moral weakness, failure of educational system, overburden, pressure to succeed and most importantly the lack of moral values in today’s society, all add up to cause this evil.

I guess that will be it for now. And please do not forget to comment on this article. I would absolutely love to know your views on it too. Please do comment. .

A LESSON FROM THE PAST

Every great civilization has a history. A history which is very often marred with battles, conquests, achievements, and a continuous process of change and development. Ours is one such great civilization. We have a culture filled with engrossing myths, tales of valor, ideas of great thinkers and a thread of unity that has until now been able to tie us together into an ornament adorning the planet. We are a free country now, {or much better, were subjected to foreign rule for a few years in between}, a country marching proudly {seemingly} under the influence of the new found exuberance of technological bubbles.

I write today about something that is very closely related to our history and has somehow managed to travel through time and has now become a symbol of our existence and freedom. Something that epitomizes not only dynamism and change but also stands for unity and equality of humans. The object of discussion is an integral part of our national flag and very often gets ignored because of its size and diminutive appearance. It is merely ironic that the ‘Ashoka Chakra’ which once represented a great ruler and his flourishing empire now marks the presence of a free Indian society. The greatness of the ideas that this chakra represents has almost been forgotten today. Not only does the ‘Ashoka Chakra’ stand for a wheel of change and a continuum of evolution, it also symbolizes the views of a great king, the very reason for which the emblem was used.

In a country bleeding due to wounds of widespread parochialism, the emblem stands for equality and peace. In a country ruled by short sighted, self centered and selfish leaders, the emblem preaches the ideas of morality and righteousness in action. While we are governed by a bunch of [#$%^] who put their conscience up for sale for a few votes, the emblem marks the empire of a great emperor who realized the importance of good governance and citizenship in a civilization. In a country where people fight in the name of religion the emblem preaches non-violence and mutual respect. The emblem stands for ethics, freedom, change, and most importantly the forgotten human values of love and compassion. It is funny how a person realized these ideals more than 1000 years ago, whereas now while we call ourselves a modern society, our closet reeks of intolerance, corruption, suppression, and hypocrisy.

Our history is replete with such inspirational stories of great men and women. The significance of ‘Ashok Chakra’ is just one of many great ideas that survived the test of time. Next time you have a look at our flag, just remember what Ashoka realized after Kalinga,…. and passed down to us… to follow…

REQUIEM

In the world filled by darkness cold and fear,
I feel lonely again, longing for someone dear.

I speak now as if in a trance,
Caught in this state not by mere chance.

But due to some frailty of my mind,
When it pains me by showing dreams unkind.

And then I remember what I have seen,
And heard tales, fables, and stories, umpteen.

Of bees and blossoms and, springs and flowers,
Of wind and light and thunderous showers,

Of pain and gain and love and hate,
Of tear and smile and luck and fate,

Of blood smeared battles, and lustrous fairs,
Of acts of cowardice and courageous dares,

Of places where darkness sleeps,
While sunlight to the corners keeps,

Of people who killed for pride and power,
And of those who fell from their Ivory Tower.

I have heard it all and seen it all,
And I ask you know to make a call,

Of why you think it happens so,
That when you should let things go,

You hold fast as if holding a dream,
Undreamt, but you wish to dream?

Its strange how from so many stories told,
None spoke of how souls were sold,

For dreams that were, or were not, seen,
And world that is now or should have been!!

MOSER-BAER

I have always stated that I subconsciously try to emulate people I have met in my life and all I pen down is nothing original or creative. So in future if you come across someone who calls me a cheating liar, well, believe him.

I also promised that I would share some of the most important moments of my college life with you. What I merely wish is that the words of these people have the same effect on you as they had on me. So here I narrate to you a conversation I had with a person a day before he was about to leave college..forever..

It was just after our semester exams had finished, and people were packing their bags to go home for the much awaited summer break. I had my dinner and was walking back to my hostel when suddenly I remembered that [………] was also leaving tomorrow. The guy had helped me a lot throughout the year and I owe him a lot and so I went to his room to bid him farewell. Seeing me he asked in his usual manner,” So, what brings you here today?”.

“I came to say bye. That’s all.”, I replied.

He smiled and said,” And how am I supposed to react to that? I am not very experienced at talking to people bidding me farewell.”

I had actually disturbed him at a time when he was busy burning DVDs with the movies and TV Serials he had watched [and Downloaded], so that he could take them home. But he wasn’t displeased, on the contrary, he went on to say something that I still cherish and value.

“So, since I am the senior, I am supposed to tell you something which would help you survive in this hostile environment. Well, all I can say this that there were a lot of wrong things happening here when I joined, and nothing much has changed since then. Its not that I didn’t try to change them, but I just couldn’t. I have seen programs, circuits being copied from the net and being shown as a final year project. We already know what is good and what is not, yet most of the times we choose the easy way to bail out. The fault is not in the copying or apathy, whole of India does it nowadays, the problem is with our attitude towards doing things. Students are not mocked for studying or working hard here, they are actually treated as heroes for doing their job! We could all follow suit, but unfortunately we are too lazy or rather too tired. I am not saying that the crowd here is stupid or dumb. They are actually the best brains of the country, but what I hate most is the meek surrender against enticing evil of intellectual gimmickry. I agree that it there are problems with administration, but are we completely clean? “

Honestly, I didn’t have an answer to that question. I remained silent and watched the computer screen. It displayed the copying as 75% completed. He continued,” I am sorry but I was supposed to say some words of encouragement. Ok, all I’ll say is that to do well, believe that you are the best, act like the best, work like the best, live like the best and most importantly whenever you do anything, give it your best. Have faith in your abilities. If you have come this far you can obviously go further.”

The DVD copying was completed by now, and it ejected out. He picked it up and kept in the case nicely. “Have you had your dinner?”, he asked.

“Yes, just before I came here”.

“Good, then come, we’ll have a chocolate shake at Evergreen.”. He kept the case aside and we walked out of the room.

As we were about to lock the room before leaving, something happened to him. In a flash he unlatched the door went inside and came out with a DVD. “Take this, its blank. I don’t need it anymore. I couldn’t use it. It might be of greater help to you.”. I took the blank DVD and we walked out to savour the local ambrosia.

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I hope you liked it. Because I certainly did like the free chocolate shake. ;)

HOT SEAT

It has been a rollicking journey so far as an undergraduate. I have always stated that I use bits and pieces of others' personalities to form my own. Hence, I don't actually exist. My whole physical entity is more of an ensemble of thoughts and ideas of the people I have met in life who have influenced me.
And the last three years in college have somehow been a real transformation period. I have met people who have such a clear perception of life, that you cant help but look up to them. People of such determination and courage, that you are coerced to emulate them. I have learnt a lot from my fellow students and now I intend to give some of it back. Therefore I narrate this short incident that happened during our freshers party this year [2007].

As you can see, the heading suggests a lot about the incident. So avoiding unnecessary details, I move on straightaway to the scene. Its a hotel lounge. I am resting on the sofa along with my group mates. Standing in front of us is my senior coolly puffing a fag and castigating a junior for asking a question, “Who the hell are you to ask me such a question? Have you ever been to my room and asked me about my well being? Who are you to judge me?What you are saying is simply ridiculous. You say I behave differently these days and I'll tell you that I haven't talked to you for six months.”.

While all this was happenning, I felt sorry for the junior. Poor guy, he had merely asked a question as a custom, and now he was being punished for doing it. But I still think that my senior was correct in pointing out, that we had no right to judge him. Anyways, he continued speaking pausing sometimes for a whiff and said something which I feel as the greatest collection of words used to describe life. He said, a little appeased by seeing the junior so scared,” Well. its ok..But, I still wont answer that ludicrous question. What I will now tell you is my story, or better, every final year's story. I'll tell you about the four years of college life. I'll tell you what we do as students here. It is utterly insignificant whether what we do is right or wrong. What matters is that each one of us go through the same phases in these four years...” Here he broke off for a swig from a glass nearby.

He continued,” We enter here as first years,..or freshers..as they are called...not sure of ourselves, little scared of people around us. Walking cowed down, scared by the sight of seniors. But as the time passes, we form friends with people, start enjoying ourselves. Life becomes a little easy. I still say that friendship bonds formed in the first year are the strongest if they continue. You get accustomed to living alone. You start taking responsibilities. You tend to understand that its not such a bad world if you do things the right way. You begin to understand the high-handedness of authorities.”
Now suddenly I could feel a kind of energy in the air. Everyone was listening intently.
“Then comes the great second year. We feel like lions in a jungle. Free from the bondages of being a first year, we feel ourselves overwhelmed by the responsibility of ragging the juniors. Mouthing obscenities in every sentence we speak. There is also a lovely part. We fall in so called love. I'll tell you personally that it is a beautiful feeling and it can actually inspire you to do great things. Warmed by this strange feeling we tend to go around the college, hanging around in 'nescea' or panditji. We want to be seen and noticed. Its good if we get the girl. But what if we don't. Many of us, and I say this after seeing many people, tend to falter. I say that it is a bad thing to do. The feeling of love is too great,relish it,don't ruin it. We shouldn't expect anything else. And more importantly, damn it!..... we have a career to worry about.”
“The third year is the year of frenzy. Worried about grades and placement. People who do not have decent scores start feeling the pinch. Others just tend to worry about the big job issue.You feel the urge to study and do well, everytime you breathe.People you have been friends with for the last 2.5 years suddenly turn into competitors. So, I advice you all to please handle the stress well...Whooooa ... its here..”

By this time our auto had arrived and we had to leave..It was very late in the night and manager of the hotel had already warned us once. So we left. I hadn't noticed that I was walking alongside my senior. He placed a hand on my shoulder and asked,” What do you think of today?”. I said ,”Sir, I think sometimes we need other people to help us understand ourselves. You just did that to me.” With a smile he said, “Isn't life beautiful?”. I smiled back and said, “ Indeed, but only for those who live it.”.

This episode ends here. It was important in the sense that it made me understand why people do what they do. I knew what was coming to me in the next few years so I was prepared for it. But here is the catch...I still do not know about the last year..May be I'll have to discover it myself.

Anyway, if you are going home on diwali and if you liked this, please do not forget to get me some sweets. Personally I prefer rasgullas and kaju barfi..Rest is upto you. ;)

Wishing you a Happy Diwali...

A CUP OF COFFEE AND A LITTLE DRIZZLE

On a rainy night in september in Allahabad, a weather completely rare for the city, when a young romancer might feel lonely, when the breeze is so cool and serene that the tranquilizing effect it has can sooth the most enverate mind, or when the surroundings are filled with gentle music of the water trickling down and the sound of it splashing on the puddles. At these times of euphoric calm when others tend to relax and enjoy mother nature, my mind decieves me by making me think of days of past when I used to return from classes on rainy evenings, and my mom had a plate of pakodas or samosas and a hot cup of tea ready for me. The smell of the rain still remains the same, but what I miss most is feeling of being at home, being safe and knowing that you have people around you who care for you.

When the tiny trinklets of water strike my face as I walk briskly, so that I look as if I am trying to avoid getting wet when I am actually not, I tend to relive the times spent at my home. It rains heavily at my place around august and september so whenever I am presented with a chance to to enjoy the rain I never miss it. The feeling of nostalgia is sometimes so strong that its not only the clouds which are shedding water. I realise at these moments that I might not be able to spend stay at home, and having left home I know that I might not even be able to spend the same amount of time with my parents as I had when I was young. The tiny sparkles of water shining in the light of the nearby street lamp, while falling down from heavens, seem like the the days of my past..long gone but still fresh in my memory..

I think of all this and then I think of my present life, of my friends now, of the people I know, of what I have achieved in last few years, of all that I have lost and I realise that all of it is worth the price the I have paid for it..{especially you my dear BIWI ;) }.I have gained a lot more than I have lost. Last two years of my have been like riding on the fast lane. Things have happened so fast that even before I realised it I was a changed person. All this for my own good and for the good of people who know me. I do miss home often but I have grown accustomed to it. Getting used to pain just makes it a lot more easy to bear rather than crying it out. At last I realise that home is a mere misnomer, its how you live your life that matters. We are all nomads, it is not in our rule book to dwell at one place...

You might think of me as a retrospective nerd sermonising on things far above my station, but its just the way I feel.

And can you imagine that I thought of all this with a cup of hot coffee in my hand.. ;)

A girl’s speech on Independence Day

So much has been said already by people whose words carry much more meaning than mine, that it seems that whatever I write here might just turn out to be a mixture of ideas of various people over time. So I am not going to burden myself with heavy quotes and deep philosophical and social relevance of independence. What I will write about is a young girl’s speech on 15^th August. A speech which very few people heard and even fewer grasped. A speech that I remember to date, not because the speaker was voluble or cogent, but simply because it was the first honest oration I have ever heard in my life.

________________________________________________________

“Dear friends we gather today on the occasion which you are very well aware of. People before me have spoken about challenges in science, space and economy. They have talked angrily about our system’s failure in certain areas. Being a junior as I am, I agree to whatever that has been said by my predecessors. Therefore I will not discuss those things again with you. What I will tell you is the story of a young boy born somewhere in India. It matters not whether he is rich or poor , whether he is intelligent or dumb. What matters most is that he was born in a country which we inhabit too, and thus happens to be our brother.

His parents sent him to school to carry on the family tradition. To carry on the business already handled by his brothers. The business, he saw only benefited some of his brothers while others accumulated losses. So he decided not to take up the regular business. He decided to be a miner and dig for diamonds. The people around him, told him that there were no diamonds left in the country. All mines had already been exhausted of its jewels.

But, undeterred he carried on. He chose a site and started digging. He dug day and night, toiled hard but could get no diamonds. People around him, his brothers, forced him to stop, but he never lent an ear to what they had to say. He was determined to get diamonds for he thought that this was still a precious country. Then one day it happened. God appeared in his dreams and told him the exact site to look for diamonds. Next day he started digging at the same place and got what he wanted most. Those precious jewels which he had earned by his hard work and courage, were all his now.

This is where the story ends. You might think I wasted your precious time by telling you a story without any message. But if you think closely the message is clear and loud for all of us to hear.

“ At present we need less businessmen and more miners”

And with that message I close my speech so that I can also get a taste of the ice-creams to be given out today.

Thank you very much for your patience,

Jai Hind.”

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I hope you liked it and I don’t think I have anything more to say now. So even I say “Vande Matram” and sign off. Have a nice day.

A CUP OF TEA……

It is 2’o clock at night and I find myself sitting on the old, crippled bench on roadside teashop. I have decided against narrating my cause for being at such a place at such time. But, just to give you an idea, I had been working continuously for 2 hours and failed to find a proper solution to the problem at hand. The weather itself was not too great, so even while I was sitting outside I could feel no breeze, even at this time, thus obviously making it difficult for me.

Sorry, I have this peculiar habit of digressing into insignificant details when they can very easily be avoided. The reason I write this is that somehow I feel that I have degraded as a human being.

Living in this decadent world thriving on iniquity, I found that even I have been influenced by it. My reason for saying this is that while sitting on that crippled bench, I witnessed the state of poverty in India. I saw this young kid and his brother make me tea, {at this age where they should be going to school and not waking up nights to serve tea on roadside}, a beggar asleep on a four wheeled cart used by hawkers, a rikshaw puller half asleep on his rikshaw, another kid half-naked playing with stones, indifferent towards the trucks passing by at full speed. While I saw all this strangely I did not feel a thing.

Had I been a human being I would certainly felt something, but I had this strange apathy towards all of this as if it was usual for such things to occur. I was not like this earlier but somehow I have transfigured into this strange obnoxious fellow, who cannot see others’ pains. I was thinking all this, while the events unfolding themselves infront of me told a sorry tale. The kid and his brother took rest in turns on a disfigured three-wheeler nearby. And I did not feel anything in my heart even then. I paid the kid and walked back to my room, discontent with myself. All along the way I felt sad, not about the poverty neither about the kids and the beggar. I felt bad because I did not feel that way. I had been a good kid, but somehow during the growing up process, I had lost my compassion and soul or may be I had been robbed of it.

“ Is this what my mom wanted me to be?”, I asked myself. . But the discussion seemed fruitless and so did the introspection.

I went to my room, switched off the computer, and decided to go to sleep. I know I could not answer the question honestly, so hence I to put the matter to rest. I don’t know what went wrong where, I don’t know what kind of a being I am going to end up as, but I know one thing for sure I am not the only one at fault, for the change in me….But for now I feel as if I have hit rockbottom…

Signoff:::

“Sometimes I wonder... will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other?

Then I look around and I realize. God left this place a long time ago.”

-Blood Diamond

I wrote this one for a community post.Thought it was good enough to be posted here.

Hiding in a lie,
.........i fake a smile,to be with you.
Living in recluse,
.........i party all night ,to be with you.
Drenched in pain,
.........i laugh out loud,to be with you.
Bruised and hurt,
.........i heal others,to be with you.
Sick and tired,
.........i'll run a mile, to be with you.
Down and out,
........i besiege the world,to be with you.
Tears run down my cheek,
.......but still i fake a smile,for the sake of being with you...

TIME-TROUBLE

I have been thinking of writing this one for a long time now. Till now I have only written about some truths and done a little bit of surgeon-like dissection of facts. I have always tried to present facts, without bending them to suit my needs. Well in this one I try out an entirely different genre, and it might not come out well. But still taking a little liberty I try out my hand at fiction. The story proceeds thus:

Not so long ago there lived a boy called Timothy Green in a sleepy little town of Picaris inhabited by ordinary people like ourselves. No elves, no fairies had ever been seen in the town and it was rare to find people discussing about them. Tim as he was called by those who knew him, was also an ordinary plain boy, a boy who played soccer all day and still managed to complete his homework quite like a lot of young boys living around him. But he loved going to school not because he loved studies but because he had a special friend whom he was only able to meet in school as she lived far from his house.

Lily lived on the outskirts of the Picaris and had to take a bus to come to school. She was also fond of her school. Studying in seventh grade with kids of her age, with whom she could play in the intermission and chatter in-between classes, gave her enough of a reason to go to school everyday.

Like everyday she was playing hide and seek during the lunch break when suddenly someone hit against her while she was hiding behind a pillar. That someone was Tim, and Lily started scolding him, “Of all the places in the school, you had to choose this pillar to hide behind, now we’ll both get caught!”. Tim said, “ Not if you remain silent”. For five minutes they both hid behind the tall and broad pillar silently, until Lily decided to speak, “Tim, we have been best friends for quite a time now, and I talked to my mom about you and my other friends, and how I really love this place and how I didn’t wish to leave it, but she always tells me that people change and things change as we move on in life. Promise me Tim that you will always remain the Tim I know, the Tim I like, the Tim I….”, with this the bell rang and Lily scurried off to her class with a shade of pink on her cheeks. Tim stood there and simply breathed out something which sounded like, “I promise”, with his eyes looking in the direction Lily had taken.

Five years passed. Lily’s mom had admitted her to a new school close to their house as soon as she had completed her class seventh. Tim had kept his promise and as a result now when he was in his final year at school Tim had no friend as he did not interact with people around him and kept all by himself. He had stopped going out with his friends after class eighth and kept himself locked up in his room. He did all this to avoid getting affected by worldly influences. He had seen how boys in his class had changed their hairstyles, and girls had stopped talking freely to boys. In short he had seen people around him change. In order to stay away from all this and keep his promise to Lily he had done all this, though he had not seen her after she left school.

And then one day he saw her, there she was having a pizza in the shop nearby, he went to her and introduced himself. She failed to recognize him, and then Tim left the place with a broken heart and wet eyes. The fault wasn’t Lily’s. Anyone would fail to recognize you if you appear in a public place with outdated clothes. But a fault had occurred, and it had made Tim lock up his door from inside leaving him to cry out alone.

He felt dejected and cheated. She was the one who had made him promise not to change with time and today she also had left him. He did not feel like living anymore. And thus with a heavy heart he continued shedding tears until he felt someone touch his head. He turned back sharply and saw a beautiful creature sitting behind him. It looked like a girl except for the fact that it had a pair of gleaming golden wings. Tim stood up, startled by this sudden apparition and weakly said, “Who are you? And what are you doing in my room?”

“Stay calm Tim. I am a fairy who has come to help you. My name is Tira. You have been a good boy Tim, and have never done anything wrong, so God sent me to help you find yourself again”., said the creature.

“I don’t need anyone’s help. I have suffered enough. I am not able to understand the fact why things, people and surroundings change, Why cannot they remain static. The sun, the moon, the stars they never change then why do we have to go through this?” inquired the lad, in visible anguish.

“You see Tim, you trouble yourself too much over this. The fact that you decided to keep a five year old promise speaks volumes about you.”

Tim wasn’t satisfied with this, “Why do people have to change ?”

“Who is your favorite player Tim? And why do you like him?” ,asked Tira.

“Federer without doubt, I like him because he never bows down against any opponent and gives his 100%, but what has this got to do with my question?”

“This has everything to do with your question That Federer is able to compete so well is because he adjusts his game well. I hope you understand when I say that he has actually evolved himself. He takes the level of play to an entirely new dimension. Or we can simply put it as, that he has changed the way tennis is played.”- replied Tira.

“I think I am beginning to understand you Tira, but what is the use of such a change in life?”-inquired Tim. He wasn’t sad anymore but was rather intent on knowing more from his heavenly friend.

“What you call change, I call metamorphosis. You see Tim, when you chose to freeze time for yourself, you decided to violate the most basic law of nature. It is the destiny of the caterpillar to change into a butterfly. If a caterpillar refuses to develop, it is playing with its own fate. By changing I don’t mean that you become an entirely different person rather you groom yourself to face the challenges of life. A baby bird has to learn to fly, it cannot remain in the nest forever. Some people change for good others for bad but they do change, that is the rule and when you decide against it, not only do you hurt yourself but you also hurt the people around you who care for you.”- came the reply from Tira.

“I think I get you now. I promise you that I would never again force things on myself.”. No sooner had Tim said that than Tira disappeared in a flash of golden light so bright, that Tim was forced to shut his eyes. When he reopened his eyes he could see the rising sun through the window of his room.

First time in last five years had he woken up early enough to witness the birth of a new day……….

With this I complete my experiment on writing styles. If you have read this far I thank you. Please forgive me if you found the piece boring. It was my first ever attempt at writing such a thing. Now I sign off with a quote from a movie I watched recently:

“Artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up.”

- V for Vendetta

Previous blogs :

http://anurag3.blogspot.com

http://erebus-on-earth.blogspot.com

http://seekerleo.blogspot.com

http://leoheel.sulekha.com/blog/post/2007/04/i-sat-for-a-while.htm